Keep walking up that hill!

Sometimes, I get scared. I am in the midst of enjoying my day, and all of a sudden, something pressing will occur to me: a bill that I have due, an unexpected expense that I can't afford, a family commitment that I am worried about, a job expectation that I am not sure that I can fulfill. And, I feel my stomach tense up, my heart beat a bit faster, my muscles tense....... I get scared. Once that comes on, it is hard to stop the progession of it.

What I am learning to do, learning to do more proactively and consistently, is to relax, to say the word "relax" to myself, out loud or in my mind. Relax and breathe and go with the flow. The bottom line, we will always have a path that is not straight and flat. There are going to be hills, steep hills, gradual hills, rocks and cliffs, winding roads as our path. So, one step at a time, one foot in front of another, KEEP WALKING UP THAT HILL.

After all, it is only a hill. It is not forever. It may be uncomfortable, it may hurt our muscles, we may have to really stretch ourselves and work hard to get up it. We may have to sit and rest on the way. But, relax in the process. No matter what, we need to climb the hills to get to where we are going. So, why fight it? Why fret about it, stress ourselves out about it? Enjoy the scenery........

Sit down on a log. Listen to the quiet, to the birds, to the noise that is beauty in itself. Look around you: what do you see? What lessons or beauty is there right in front of you, on the road to greatness? Remember, it is ALWAYS about the journey, not the destination. Make it meaningful; make it beautiful; and get there in a relaxed way.

I used to feel tested, tried, why does the hard way have to be MY way, God? I got sick of it, got angry, got frustrated, got discouraged. Now, I try to look at each journey, each road, each uphill, and downhill path, each straight and flat path, as a opportunity to learn, to grow, to get into better shape, to challenge myself. The journey is an amazing one, and I don't want to miss one step of it by obsessing over the "what might happen" talk.

Walk with me......

Blogging for LGBT Families Day!

From what I understand, and this is the first I am hearing of it, mind you, this is the third annual Blogging for LGBT Families Day! I did not have much luck setting up the link for you all, but will try to do so within this entry, so you can check out all of the blogs that are dedicating part of their space today to writing about LGBT families.

This is a loaded concept in some ways. One of those ways is that it won't mean the same to me as it does to some of my beloved friends on Soulforce, or some of the members of our church, or even for some of our couple friends. For our family, our nuclear closer-than-close family, being an LGBT family means, among other things, that we are two life partners that decided we wanted to have a baby, and so we did. The rest in the ten years (so far) that have followed is herstory (we have a daughter). However, we know many persons, in 3D and in the cyber world, who have children from different circumstances, some that choose not to have children, and some that have not had them yet. Some who are single and seeking family among others in the LGBT community, the list goes on and on. So, this is to celebrate all of our families......

In honor of this day, I have decided to recycle a blog post of mine from a few weeks ago, that just gives you one reason why I have such adoration for my family. Why I feel so blessed. Why, if I had to do it all again, I would not change a thing. Even being a lesbian; it has come to be one of the greatest gifts of my life. I embrace, I revel in it, and I celebrate it as often as I can.

Here you have it: Car rides......



Car rides........
About four months ago, my daughter stopped wanting to take the bus to school in the morning. Initially, it seemed to be motivated by sleeping a bit late, or just not being in the mood to deal with all of the kids on there. Then, before we both knew it, I was driving her to school every day. Believe me, I don't mind; I rather enjoy our morning time together. It was just such a strange transition, from her wanting to go on her own on the bus, to wanting to be with me every morning that she could.When she was born, I got to be at home with her for three whole months, day in and day out. It was heaven; we would just do our thing, go out or stay in, play or watch tv, socialize with others or not; we were so happy to be together; of course, no words on her part could describe it then, but she was devoted and smitten already.Then, my partner was home with her full time after she was just a few months old. Because we only had one income after awhile, I worked as much as I could, sometimes late in the evenings, and the weekends. It was always so hard to leave them both, to go off and do what I needed to do for us, but not be able to be home with my family. As much as I loved my career, leaving our daughter was so hard.Then, she started wanting a ride to school every day a few months ago. And, what quality time it is. It is about a twenty minute drive to work, and we talk about everything from the weather, to her school day, to her teacher that she dreads, to her friends, and our family. Sometimes the conversations are so deep and soul searching, it makes me eternally grateful that we have raised her the way that we have; to speak up when something is wrong. Now, every day, I crave that time with her in the morning; it starts off my day so beautifully.To just add to this enhanced family time, I recently made a decision to give up my evening part time job; now, we have dinner together frequently during the week; we enjoy our extra time together, we talk and laugh and play and discuss. It is worth more to me than anything in this world.

Here is the link; sorry for the tedious nature of it.......

http://www.mombian.com/2008/06/02/blogging-for-lgbt-families-day-contributed-posts-2/

body language

I have spent most of my life coming to terms with the body that I live in. I can safely say that for the majority of my years, I have loathed the vessel. Too fat, too short, hair too wiry, too many veins showing on my legs, you name it, I have probably thought it about my body. In my today, I am slowly, but surely, coming to a peaceful existence with this body that my spirit inhabits, its quirks and details and all of the little, and big, parts that are uniquely mine. It is a beautiful work of art that I am in the process of gaining appreciation for.

What I am also learning to do, besides embrace my body, is to listen to the language of my body. Not so much about what my body language says to others, but rather what my body speaks to me about what is going on. You see, my relationship with my body and my spirit is reciprocal in nature; what affects my mind and spirit directly influences my body, and what invades or affects my physical being influences my thoughts, my soul, my heart.

When I am physically ill, I am now paying attention to that. I am infamous for ignoring symptoms, taking care of the needs of all of those around me, and leaving my needs to long last, sometimes to my own serious detriment. I am now listening to those physical cues: a headache, stomach ache, dizziness, and even though they do not occur often, I tune into them to take care of any physical need that may be going on. What I am also learning though, is that at times, those physical symptoms are a physical exemplification of what is going on in my head, in my heart: I am thinking anxious thoughts about money; I am nervous about a work event; I am missing my partner and my daughter; I feel sad about a circumstance. When I really tune into my body, I feel the tension in my belly, the stiffness of my neck.............it is then that I know that I need to calm my thoughts and get back to a peaceful center.

My body is so precise and amazing it what it holds in terms of knowledge; it possesses my vibrant, beating heart, to keep me going for yet another set of beautiful days; it keeps my limbs strong and flexible, so that I can build and cook and create and work and play; it keeps safe my brain so that I can continue to learn and experience and explore. So, who am I to NOT trust that it knows what it is doing? It is the storage unit for all that has occurred in my life, past and present. It has an exact memory. It is resilient and flexible and accomodating.

It is my friend, not my enemy.

I am going to give my body a great big hug!

Another beautiful phrase of wisdom.....

By Melody Beattie, from her book of affirmations, Journey to the Heart.

"We find fortune when we open our hearts and learn the secret of life."

Amazing.

Another beautiful phrase of wisdom.

The beauty of divine love

I am almost constantly pondering lately on the doings of my life. In a relatively short period of time, about two years, my life has turned around almost completely. Sure, by the events and circumstances that have happened, by the relationships that I encountered, by the time that passed and the jobs that changed, that helps to describe the turnaround that I experienced. And, when I use the term turnaround, I mean, my head still feels like it is spinning at times because my life made so many twists and turns lately; the changes went from having been very gradual to everything kind of falling into place.

So, yes, those things all happened. But, there were even more deeply personal changes that occurred, that occurred within me. I felt changed, I felt moved...... I began to open up more, even though I always considered myself to be an open person, it was as if one day, my soul just completely revealed itself. As a coccoon opening up, to allow for the spreading of the wings of the beautiful butterfly (BTW, Vanessa means butterfly in French; how appropriate). I literally could feel my wings unfurling, spreading, showing their newfound colors.

I also felt like I found my voice, my REAL voice, which I had kept silent for most of my life. I have always had a big mouth, always been able to speak up for others, always able to express my opinion, but rarely did I feel totally at ease with speaking, openly, about who I am what I am about. My voice emerged. Some days in a whisper, some days in a roar.

My mind and my awareness has opened up in such a way that hardly anything escapes me. Colors are brighter, sounds are louder, music is sweeter, smells are stronger, and I feel alive and so capable. I still miss details, in such a hurry to take something in, but I am learning, boy am I learning. My mind feels more eager than ever to learn, to grow, to challenge, to read and gain knowledge.

I felt so alive I thought, all of those years of my life. But, I feel like much of me was in a deep, tranquil sleep. Sometimes it was fitful, sometimes restful, but never fully awake, alert and alive.

What do I attribute all of this to?

I have purposely and intentionally opened myself up to the wonders of the Universe. I have said a resounding "YES" to my receiving of divine love. The love of the universe embracing me; the love of self resounding within me and echoing out into my surroundings. The love for my fellow humans being shown and given freely. And, what makes this time so incredibly different, even though I have always enjoyed meeting others, chatting with others, serving others, is that I am doing it from my point of soul now; I really am listening to the tickings of my heart, in the same rhythm of the universe, and we are in sync, we are connected.

The power of that experience is nothing short of incredible.

Just because opportunity knocks.....

.......doesn't mean that we have to answer the door.

Not every opportunity is necessarily our opportunity.

Maybe we are in a tough situation; maybe our relationship is failing, and we meet someone who atttends to us, listens, and seems interested.

Maybe our job has been going poorly, and we hear about a job opportunity that sounds too good to be true. Sure, it isn't a job we would normally enjoy, but the money is good.

Maybe, we have heard about a new way to invest our money, even though it sounds kind of risky, the return could be incredible.

Sometimes, opportunity knocks.

Sometimes, it is better to not answer the door.

I know that this goes against many things that some of us have been taught. When opportunity knocks, answer. Take a chance. Don't miss a great opportunity. Invest now, benefit later.

And, there is not doubt that those opportunities will be beneficial to someone.

But, not every opportunity is an opportunity that is the right one for us.

Starting today, when opportunity knocks, instead of responding to the knock immediately, pause for a moment.

Instead, listen intently. Can you hear the grasshopper? Can you hear the sound of your own heartbeat? Sure, they aren't as loud as a knock or a doorbell, but they hold more firm answers to your future, to your dreams, than any knock on the door.

There are opportunities to be had for each one of us, and reasons why the knock on the door could bring some benefit to our lives. But, only in our hearts can we know for sure if it is the right thing for us or not.

We can't know fully based on advice from others, no matter how well meaning.

We can't know fully based on what a great opportunity it appears to be.

We can't know based on the short term gains.

We can only know by quieting ourselves, listening intently, and getting into step with the beating of our own heart, the calling of our own soul. We need to be listening hard enough and long enough to really know what the answers are for us.

I mean, we can all answer the door when it knocks; we have free will, it is always our choice.

And, no matter what, a lesson will be in store for us.

Are we ready to listen more closely, so that those decisions that we do make, feel more in sync with the rhythm of our lives?

Are you ready to ignore the knocks and listen quietly for the beat?

I dare you.......

I absolutely love this wisdom......

courtesy of Melody Beattie:

"The right time for the journey is when you begin it."

I love the simple truth of that.

The search for identity.

Our daughter is ten years old. She is a subject often discussed on this blog of mine, because watching her grow and change is such an amazing experience, and she is just such a great little human being in the making. I have been pondering the idea of a person's search for identity because of something that happened with her this week.

She is legally the child of both myself and my partner; and she has always known that, known that she belongs to both of us. Her last name, due to biology of birth, is mine. She was always given the option of hyphenating it, to carry both of our names, and we considered doing it on her behalf at times. But, in wanting to help her feel one of her peer group, we never did anything except keep her name as it is.

This week, she subtly but specifically told me that she wants to change her last name. Not hyphenate it, but change it to reflect my partner's last name only. I was surprised, a little shocked, and at first, felt really weird about that. Not my name anymore? What does that mean, and then, where do I fit in with her identity and origins? It was a strange reaction on my part, I didn't expect it, but have been trying to sort through it since she first told me. And, she only told me directly, not my partner.

Last night, over family dinner, we all had a discussion about it. We talked about the various options with her, and although she was interested in the option of hyphenating vs. changing it, she still wants to change it to her last name.

Now, as her parents, we could say, no, that is not okay. We could express our concern about the questions that she will get, the confusion it may cause with friends or school personnel, possible negative reactions. But, I think we are of a frame of mind that we want HER to make the choice. You see, we are a nontraditional type of family; so, we need to, at times, do things in a nontraditional way, to accomodate the needs of our child, of our family.

After I stopped feeling helpless, lost, and left out about the potential name change, it kind of hit me as a revelation of sorts: she is forming and shaping her own identity. She is taking control of who she is, and part of that, for her, is changing her name. She cannot describe to us, nor explain, why she wants to do it, but identity is a hard thing to explain or describe for any of us. What is our identity? Who are we? Her questions related to this will be far different from many of her peers, so this seems to be an exercise in that, to help her come to her own, loving and individual understanding. She is searching, and we will help her in anyway that we can, that seems reasonable, to find it and explore it.

And, I don't think we could express our love in any fuller of a way.

Tend to your own garden.

Oh, the experiences of life. We have all had experiences up to this point, some good, some bad, but all worthwhile and bringing us valuable knowledge and lessons. So, why not pass on that knowledge, those lessons, to those that we love and care about? After all, if it worked for us, shouldn't it work for someone else?

This used to be, and still is although I try to resist, the way that I would interact with those around me; or, as I have come to discover about myself, it was a subtle and not so subtle way to control. Wow, I can't believe I just said that. But, it is truth. And, the truth hurts sometimes.

I have been a social worker, counselor, therapist for my whole professional career. That is a sum total of 24 years now. In that role, I get paid to help people find out what they need to do differently to change their lives. I get paid, and I enjoy the work, of helping others to solve their problems, brainstorm solutions, give suggestions. Even though it is something that I get paid to do, I enjoy doing it because I enjoy helping others, respecting others in the times when friends are hard to come by. I didn't feel like a social worker in my personal life, but I was.

My friends are so important to me, my partner is struggling so badly, if I just gave them the answer that worked for me, then they will feel better, be happier, feel more in balance. Right? Wrong, wrong and wrong. What a very hard lesson for me to learn. Because, by my putting upon my loved ones what I thought they should do, I was controlling; I was dictating; I was taking away their freedom to have their own process, to tend to their own garden, so to speak.

Sure, it is okay to want to weed someone else's plot for them; it is admirable to bring seeds that you have had success with; it is appreciated when you have some extra manure you want to share. Problem is, too much shit is a bad thing. Too much giving of what you think will work the best leaves the other person powerless, helpless, and less confident in their own abilities. And, I have to admit, again, I cannot believe that I am doing so, that it can be great for the ego when something that worked for me, works for someone else. God, I hate admitting that, but it is true.

So, I have made a career now of tending to my own garden, and encouraging those that I know, those that I care about, to do the same. How am I doing this?

Well, I am doing it on the job, by not fixing everyone, but rather, showing them where they can find the tools to fix themselves. I am not their moms- I am a guide, a person just pointing them in the right direction. What a great feeling of satisfaction my clients have when I empower them to do it for themselves; I don't want them to be thanking me anymore, I want them to be grateful to their own self-will.

With those closest to me, I am biting my tongue (literally, sometimes- that hurts!), I am pausing a lot in conversation, when I would previously have given a laundry list of ideas, and letting the other person finish telling their story, or until they have more than a moment's breath for them to figure out what comes next. Tend to their own garden. Grow their own beauty. Mind their own patch of earth and sky.

As I write that, it reminds me of another thought. If we all just told each other how to do things, how to make things right, how to be happy and blessed, we would have a monochromatic version of my favorite fleece blanket. It would keep me warm, but it wouldn't be much to look at. However, if I point people in the right direction, empower them to find their own way, their own answers, their own destiny, and we each take care of our own garden, our own patch of earth, what a beautiful mosaic of quilted beauty that would be. That will be. That should be.

I am learning, forever learning, and forever grateful for the learning...........

What you believe is what you will see.

Have you ever noticed this phenomenon? That, those things which be believe about ourselves, seem to appear as self-fulfilling prophecies in our lives? We believe that we are unlovable; therefore, we have no current love relationship; We believe that we have lousy luck; therefore, we get every red light, sit in traffic, cannot find a job.

Our lives are so much about perception, what we think is around us, through our own individual lens. So, if my perception of my self is derogatory, negative, self-deprecating, then I will only see around me persons that will abuse, denegrate, and abandon me. I will certainly believe that I deserve no better than what I have. Even if there is a few loving souls on the periphery of our lives, we cannot see them, because we believe that we are unlovable, so we are unable to see the good stuff, the love stuff.

Sure, there are so many things in our lives that are out of our control. I am not trying to state that we cause bad things to happen to ourselves; I am not making light of how bad circumstances take a very heavy toll on people. They have taken their toll on me. But, I am a firm believer that what I have believed in the past, determined what I would see in my local world.

Now, I believe so much more in the power of my own being; in my own light and purpose; in the love that I have to give to my family, my friends, the world. So, what do I seem to find myself surrounded by most these days? Love- pure, sweet LOVE............

It was not always so. When I was living on my own last year, when I got sick, when my daughter was not with me, I was convinced at times that all had abandoned me, that I was totally alone in the world; and, at that time, I was. I isolated myself from those in my life that could assist me. What I believed was what I saw.

When I believed that I had too much guilt to leave my part time job in favor of a better paying, better security, full time job, I did. I had guilt by the car load. Until, I believed that I deserved to not work so hard, to have an easier time of things, to be properly compensated for my work. And, then, that is what I saw: opportunity, new challenges, ease of living.

What we see is not what we believe. There may be things that we accept as truth at times in our lives, because the thinking may be that if it appears to us, it must be what we need to believe in. I have thought this way in the past as well. But, now, on this day, I firmly BELIEVE first; I have beliefs and values and foundations that lead me, open my eyes, give me sight.

Believing is seeing.

Car rides........

About four months ago, my daughter stopped wanting to take the bus to school in the morning. Initially, it seemed to be motivated by sleeping a bit late, or just not being in the mood to deal with all of the kids on there. Then, before we both knew it, I was driving her to school every day. Believe me, I don't mind; I rather enjoy our morning time together. It was just such a strange transition, from her wanting to go on her own on the bus, to wanting to be with me every morning that she could.

When she was born, I got to be at home with her for three whole months, day in and day out. It was heaven; we would just do our thing, go out or stay in, play or watch tv, socialize with others or not; we were so happy to be together; of course, no words on her part could describe it then, but she was devoted and smitten already.

Then, my partner was home with her full time after she was just a few months old. Because we only had one income after awhile, I worked as much as I could, sometimes late in the evenings, and the weekends. It was always so hard to leave them both, to go off and do what I needed to do for us, but not be able to be home with my family. As much as I loved my career, leaving our daughter was so hard.

Then, she started wanting a ride to school every day a few months ago. And, what quality time it is. It is about a twenty minute drive to work, and we talk about everything from the weather, to her school day, to her teacher that she dreads, to her friends, and our family. Sometimes the conversations are so deep and soul searching, it makes me eternally grateful that we have raised her the way that we have; to speak up when something is wrong. Now, every day, I crave that time with her in the morning; it starts off my day so beautifully.

To just add to this enhanced family time, I recently made a decision to give up my evening part time job; now, we have dinner together frequently during the week; we enjoy our extra time together, we talk and laugh and play and discuss.

It is worth more to me than anything in this world.

Just for the fun of it..... can you answer all of these??

1. Do you like blue cheese? Absolutely; not good for a healthy eating plan, though, I am afraid.....

2. Have you ever smoked heroin? Nope, never, and can safely say never will, either
3. Do you own a gun? Nope
4. What flavor do you add to your drink at sonic? No sonics near me; where are they??
5. Do you get nervous before Doctor Appointments? Not usually
6. What do you think of hot dogs? I usually only get in the mood for them in the summer, at cookouts and at ball games; I am SUCH a cliche........

7. Favorite Christmas movie? It's A Wonderful Life- TOTAL tearjerker
8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Did someone say coffee??? BLACK only
9. Can you do push ups? I actually can in my "older" years.... and like it, too.
10. Age? 45
11. What's your favorite piece of jewelry? My past,present and future necklace from my love; my heart locket from my daughter for Mother's day
12. Favorite hobby? blogging, watching movies, travelling, music
13. Favorite Actor? Jodie Foster

14. Do you have A.D.D.? No
15. What's one trait you hate about yourself? My compulsiveness about time, at times.....
16. Middle name? Leigh
17. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment: I am hungry, is it cold outside, is it 5:00 yet?

18. Name 3 things you bought yesterday: dinner, bananas, graham crackers

19. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink? Water, wine, coffee
20. Current worry? Fixing up our front porch
21. Current hate right now? The weather; I am cold all the time...
22 Favorite place to be? By the ocean somewhere with my family.
23. How did you bring in the New Year? We all got in our jammies, took pictures with hats on, even on the dog; had special snacks, barely saw the ball drop at Midnight in NYC......

24. Where would you like to go? Right now? To the ocean with my family.

25. Name three people who will complete this? The possibilities are endless; I am posting it on my blog!!!!

26.What kind of shirt are you wearing? Long sleeve cotton purple sweater
28. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets? Nope; either flannel or crisp cotton are my faves

29. Can you whistle? sometimes
30. Favorite color? PINK, without a doubt
31. Would you be a pirate? No
32. What songs do you sing in the shower? Well, today it will be Kung Foo Fighting...... otherwise, usually based on whatever is in my CD player in my car at the time; today it is Bjork.

33. Favorite girl's name? Hannah (wonder why???)
34. Favorite boy's name? Devon
35. What is in your pocket right now? Lint

36. Last thing that made you laugh? Having the song Kung Foo Fighting in my memory......
37. Best bed sheets as a child? Was there something exciting about them? Don't remember my sheets from childhood..........

38. Worst injury you've ever had? Falling into a hole and gashing open my knee, getting stitches

39. Do you love where you live? Yes, all aspects; location and home

40. How many TVs do you have in your house? 3
41. Who is your loudest friend? Mary

42. How many dogs do you have? One; Abby
43. Does someone have a crush on you? Not sure; I guess that keeps the element of surprise alive and well.......
44. What is your favorite book? Anything in the Harry Potter series

45. Where were you born? Pennsacola, FLA
46. What is your favorite candy? Good n Plenty; or, Reeses Peanut butter cups

47. Favorite Sports Team? Boston Red Sox
48. What song do you want played at your funeral? Be Not Afraid; On Eagle's Wings

49. What were you doing 12 AM last night? Sleeping
50. What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up? Is it really Monday already???

Inspiration Point

Do you know where your Inspiration Point is?

The Inspiration Point places in our lives don't have to be a destination. Sure, we all have probably had the experience, that we didn't feel like we could fully relax, enjoy, unwind, and be ourselves, unless we were at the beach, near a mountain, on a retreat, meditating, sky diving, or many other special endeavors. It really doesn't have to be that way at all.

We may all have our own special places, special destinations that we look forward to as a way to connect, to relate, to wind down and listen to the quiet voice within. Maybe, it is our church. Maybe it is the woods or mountains a days' drive from home. Maybe it is driving to the sea, and looking out over the vast ocean. For me, the deepest sense of peace and refuge comes when I am near the ocean; the roar of the surf, the feel of the sand under my feet, the cry of the gulls, the most beautiful sunrises and sunsets that I have ever seen, the shell seeking on the beach for hours; I feel so connected there. But, I have been learning, and what I have learned is: I cannot get to the ocean as often as I would like. What else could be my inspiration point?

Basically, everything. Every moment, every breath, every minute of every day, can have instilled in it a moment of inspiration, of support, of beauty, of life. Of course, it is not there if we do not have the eyes to see it. If we enable ourselves to embrace the daily, moments of beauty in our lives that occur all of the time. There is beauty in joy, beauty in sorrow, beauty in anger and loss and frustration and monetary gain; every moment of every day, we can experience beauty and inspiration and solace, peace and balance- if we are willing to see it.

If I had to wait until every time I was able to get to my beloved ocean to feel inspired, then how sad my days in between would be!! I don't want to live a half-life; one in which I only spend half of my days actually living. I want to live it all.

What are my Inspiration Points?? My partner; her beauty, her wit, her compassion, her arms around me; her heart. My daughter; her laughter; her hugs; her love; her curiosity; her independence looming ahead of us. My home and yard; its greenery; new life in baby trees; blossoms on apple trees; lilacs about to bud; deer that roam around our yard. I am telling you, I really seek inspiration in everything, I mean EVERYTHING, that is around me. Even the shitty stuff, the challenges, the burdens, the griefs, I try to find how it can lead me to my higher purpose, my guidance, my support and refuge, my future strength and growth.

You don't have to go to a special destination to find your Inspiration Point. The closest place to visit it is within yourself.

Go visit there today. And, don't forget to send me a postcard.........

Forgive yourself.

What are you waiting for?

Sure, maybe you messed up, maybe you made a wrong choice, maybe you even made a right choice for you, but bad for someone else.

Forgive yourself.

Guilt does nothing but destroy. Whether it is put upon us, or we heap it upon ourselves, it destroys anything and everything good that we formerly believed about ourselves or someone else. Guilt can destroy our self esteem and our relationships with others.

Forgive yourself.

Sometimes, we may put off, or neglect, to forgive ourselves, because to do so, we need to face up to something that we have done, even though what we did was not wrong. However, if you need forgiveness, mustn't that mean you really screwed up?

Forgive yourself.

It means you are letting yourself off of the hook, for something that you have led yourself to believe was bad or wrong. If it was, apologize and make amends; if it wasn't, or even if it was, forgive yourself as well.

I have often apologized to others, when it was called for, in a very genuine way. But, the step that I often missed, was apologizing to myself, for condemning, for damning, for shaming myself. I have had to give myself forgiveness. That creates so much damage to our souls, to believe that others are worth of forgiveness, but not ourselves.

Forgive yourself.

The longer you don't, the longer that you are denying yourself the peace, comfort, and joy of the present day.

Go ahead, do it. Forgive yourself.

And see what joy is in store for you today.

Perfect strawberry love.

My friend, Aud, just posted today her soon to be a bestseller dictionary publication. It is inspiring me to want to write about one of my own little ditties, that I came up with years ago, and sticks with me to this very day.

June is strawberry season around here. Every year, in the middle to the end of the month, local strawberries are available by the bucketful. We try to go every year, to a local strawberry farm, and pick as many berries as we can carry, and then take them home, make jelly, and eat them until we turn red. It is amazing.

One year, during such a season, many years ago, I was sorting through the berries that we would use to make our jelly. And, I came across one of the most perfect strawberries that I had ever seen. No bruising, no green color, just perfectly red and perfectly ripe all the way around. Yet, it was not perfectly round; it was an odd shape, and it had a big stem, leaves and was covered with seeds.

Perfect strawberry; like love to me, in that moment. Ripe, moist, just right in so many ways, on the outside; yet, still some imperfections, still little, individual differences that make each of us unique.

If we partake, if we dive into that strawberry love, and take a bite, we get to experience that sweetness, that juiciness, that ultimate experience of perfect strawberry love. Looking at it from afar is a great experience; actually having it, eating it, is even sweeter.

When I first thought of this, it came to me that I do not mean that love is perfect, or that every love experience calls this analogy to mind. Love is far from perfect; it is the height of imperfection. But, for me, love, the love that I have now in my life, and have had for years, is the epitome of this analogy. I had sorted through so many other strawberries, and ate many that were still a bit green, had a bruise or two, or were way too big, overgrown.

It was not the love that I was searching for, or waiting for it to find me.

When I came across the most perfect strawberry I had ever seen, it was not perfect, but it was fully ripe, ready, firm, yet soft....... it was ready to be consumed.

And, the sweetness was beyond anything that I could have imagined.

Now, in hindsight, I can't say that all of those other strawberries were wasted; that I didn't have some enjoyment in them.

The difference, is that I enjoyed them; I found joy in this one.

Perfect strawberry love.

What comes to your mind?

I am kind of hijacking this idea from Vishesh, one of my more recent readers, who is also a tremendous writer, at such a tender age.......
The question that she posed to her readers was: What comes to your mind when you read these words:
life
pain
joy
happiness
suffering
love
friend
earth
death


I did offer a response on her blog, something to the effect of the chronology of life, from beginning to end. Which, I believe to be true in one way. To me, when I read the words as she posted them, as I have posted them here, the appearance and flow of those words seemed to depict a chronological order of sorts in my mind. Now, in the light of a new day, I wanted to expand a bit upon them, in terms of what most quickly comes to mind when I think of them.

life: everything, all encompassing, that which we all pass through and experience.
pain: physical, psychic, spiritual or emotional, at the time that it occurs, we believe we won't possibly survive to come to the other side, healing and repair.
joy: almost indescribable, intensity, pure happiness and bliss, experienced more often the more evolved and self-aware that we become.
happiness: the step of feeling pleasure before we learn about joy. The things we do to remain content.
suffering: the requirement, the dues that we must pay in order to fully have what we are meant to in life; that which we go through on behalf of another, or in service to another.
love: is why we do everything that we do, whether it be good or bad; we all want love if we don't have it, want to keep it if we do, and want to despise it at times, because of what it is and of how badly we need it in our lives. Love is the center, the embodiment, of true souls.
friend: it is those rare, few people in our lives that know when to hold on, when to let go, when to support and encourage, when to guide gently in another direction, but always present even when they are not present. Friendship is not boastful, dishonest, demeaning, or vain. Friendships that are true just are.
earth: our mother, our life blood, our sustenance, our strength. Earth earns my highest, utmost respect. her power and might are so destroyed and disrespected, yet she remains ever true, ever providing soil for our foods, trees for our sustenance, water for our joy and refreshment; mother earth does not turn her back on us, although I cannot say the same as us for her.
death: that which we must all pass to; that which is a mystery and a fright as much as it is heaven and beauty and peace and pure nirvana. I go between fearing death and accepting death, in myself and my loved ones. Death comes too soon for many, not soon enough for others who suffer greatly, and too catastrophically for those who are unprepared.

I am such a thinker, a dweller on ideas and concepts, yet some of my best writings, my most vivid creations, come when I just allow the words to flow from me, as freely as a running stream, to cross over the rocks in its path, smoothing them on the way, but remaining every constant, ever free and flowing.

Dreams don't come for free.

Last night, I saw an old friend driving behind me. I am totally sure it was her; I recognized her vehicle and her as well. She knows my car, she has seen it before, it is loaded with stickers as well which fully indicate it is me; yet, she did nothing to acknowledge me, or my daughter, who was also in my car. No wave, no nod, no nothing, and she was right behind me.

For an hour or more after this, I was bugged, bugged by her ignorance, bugged by the fact that she has done that to me in the past, but I always excused it. Bugged because she never calls me when I call her; she never checks in just to say hello; she doesn't appear to be happy for me and my life and love. Bugged because I feel like I didn't make a good choice in her as a friend.

Part of my frustration, my bugginess, about situations such as these, which I have written about here before, is that this particular friend said that she was genuinely happy for me about my reconciliation; that I was moving back to my home; that I was getting my life back, in a way. But, she has never shown me that. She has cancelled plans, or blew off making plans, when it was an opportunity for her to meet my partner, to come to our home, to hang out. So, what I have come to believe and to understand, is that happiness for me reminds her of her own unhappiness, which I always knew to be true, that deep down, she is an unhappy person.

Why the title of this thread? Because my belief is that those that do view my life as happy, and theirs as unhappy, start to resent my life in a way, in part because they view me getting what I want as my own, dumb luck. Like the goodness falls into my lap, like I don't have to do anything to obtain it.

Happiness, bliss, satisfaction in one's life, doesn't drop into my lap. I have had to work, and to work hard, on my world, and on my self, in order to have the things that I want, that I desire, that fulfill me. DREAMS DON'T COME FOR FREE. Dreams cost our time, our energy, our heart........the cost is always worth it in my mind, even if I fall short, I always learn, I always gain in some way.

DREAMS DON'T COME FOR FREE..........

I believe that dreams are born of a desire, and also, a self-will that is courageous enough to walk on in spite of being afraid. I have paid every cost that there is, in order to achieve, and to gain, and to have, what I have. I will continue to do so, because I will continue to dream.

BUT, DREAMS DON'T COME FOR FREE.......

YET, THEY ARE AVAILABLE AT A PRICE I DON'T EVER MIND PAYING, AND THE PRICE THAT I WOULD PAY FOR NOT PURSUING THEM IS WAY TOO HIGH........

Love is like a broken bone.

About two months ago, our daughter was at her weekly dance class. When she was attempting to do one of the moves, she fell and held out her left hand to break her fall. Instead, she broke her wrist. A nice, clean break, no fractures or anything. Painful, uncomfortable, and a long recovery process, which required keeping the bone stabilized to make sure that it would grow back strongly and correctly.

Two weeks ago, her cast came off, yet, she still needed to avoid contact sports or other dangerous activities that could re-traumatize the area. Now, as of today, her bone is fully mended, and she can go back to her normal activities.

When considering her healing process, the process of a portion of her physical body being hurt, and then, healing, it reminded me a lot of love, of the love that I have with my partner. Like a broken bone. Two years ago, almost to the day, I told the love of my life that I needed to leave what we had created together, that I was no longer happy, that I believed that we were not going to make it. I practically heard the structure of love break in half at that moment, the earth stood still, it seemed surreal.

And, what a break it was, full of intense pain, uncomfortable sleep, heartache. Loss. Loss of ability to do things that I used to do: like having someone to talk to, laugh with, cry with...... I was alone. She was alone. We both were hurting deeply, grieving, grasping at what was no longer there. The love was broken. Like a broken bone.

One year ago, after keeping our love and our relationship in suspension for a year, after casting it and letting it heal, for God only knew what the outcome would be, we started talking about it again. We started to slowly resume what we used to be able to do, because some healing had taken place. The cast was off, we had some additional time to get strong, and then we resumed our activities, like a broken bone. We talked, we shared, we laughed and we cried together. We began to actively, slowly, use the love that had been healing for a year.

After my daughter broke her wrist, my dad told me that when a bone is broken, it grows back even stronger.

Love is like a broken bone, if we let it be. If we heal it properly, gently, and take care when the cast is removed, that love will be stronger than ever, more able to whether the stressors on it, more able to engage in activities that it enjoys.

Love is like a broken bone...............a casted bone........a healing bone....... a stronger bone.

Prepare Ye the Way....... the concert.

Let me begin by saying that my concert event was AWESOME, SPECTACULAR, ENERGIZING, CONTAGIOUS, SPIRITUAL, AWAKENING, and HUMBLING............

What a amazing experience for me, for my brother, for his congregation, for my family, and for the spirit within.

I was nervous going into the first of two performances on Saturday night. During the day, I just puttered around the house, tried not to talk too much, rest my voice, drinking tea, and mentally preparing. The biggest crowd we would probably expect was about fifty people, but virtually all of them would be strangers to me. My daughter came with me early to the church, to assist in set up, and also to practice some tunes. We then went to have a bite to eat with my brother and his family, and came back to the church to prepare.

The concert took place in the church's fellowship hall, which is in the basement of his Lutheran church. They had set up couches, tables with chairs, and lamps and other low lighting all over. The name of the band is Living Stones, so they had beautiful stones on each table, and smaller ones with the band's name on the front table for each person to take.

The crowd filtered in from about 30 minutes before the show. All of the seats were taken, half of them were persons that don't even attend there! I started to get a bit nervous, maybe I am not prepared enough, maybe my voice will crack, etc.

No worries were necessary. It seemed as if my voice came from a place within myself that I had never tapped into before. I was not timid, I did not crack, I was able to focus, and it was pure and uninhibited. We sang for one and one half hours, and the audience on Saturday even asked for an encore!!!!

After Saturday's show, a woman from my brother's church complimented me on my voice, and told me that when I sang "I Don't Know How to Love Him" from Jesus Christ Superstar, the hair on her arms stood on end!!! Intense.

The show on Sunday was just as exciting, and energizing, although the audience was a bit more subdued, mellow. The house was even more full, and more chairs needed to be brought in to have enough seats. My brother was asked when myself and the other female guest vocalist there would be joing the church and the band!!! Distance won't allow me to sing with them every week, but I would enjoy continuing to do it.

The other big pay off for me, was the connection that I had with my brother. We stood in the front, next to one another, him playing his bass, and singing, and it was just so SWEET. We hardly ever do anything together anymore, and this activity could not have been more perfect for the two of us.

It was just the best.........

A singing career re-emerges!!!!

Or not!

This is totally related to my previous post, about spirituality and how I connect with that side of myself. Curious???

Not many of you who know me, or read my blog, know that my original career choice, while I was in high school, was to be a singer. Long before American Idol, I was going to go to college and study music performance, and try my hand at making it in the industry. I attended a two week music camp at Hartt School of Music in CT, I competed vocally with my high school choir, I sang barbershop with three other women, I was very versatile in my singing. However, my dreams of such a career were crushed by my well intentioned music director, who told me that I didn't have the chops to make it, to deal with the rejection. She is probably right, but I was devastated.

Two years after I graduated, my brother also got the singing bug, and spent his last three years of high school also active in the choir, and competing. He then formed a few different bands that played some local places near our home in New Hampshire, and the notes, lyrics, and the energy brought him alive every time.

My brother lives about forty minutes away from me, the closest he has ever lived to me in our adult lives. He no longer has a bar band, but rather, a church one. Along with the pastor of his Lutheran church, they have created a band called Living Stones. They have made CD's, played concerts at coffee houses, and sang at services weekly for a couple of years. I have sang with them here and here, but this weekend is the mother lode.

We are performing, the band including me, a musical tribute to the life of Jesus, all in song, from his birth to his death and resurrection. We are doing tunes from Godspell (my absolute favorite show, next to "Rent"), Jesus Christ Superstar, and a show called The Witness, which I was never familiar with. I am singing with the band, and singing a solo tune, "I Don't Know How to Love Him" from Superstar. The performances are tomorrow and Sunday, free and open to the public.

I cannot fully express how excited and filled with joy about doing this, for many reasons. First, my love of music is intense. I have not had opportunities to perform it in the last few years, and when I am able to, due to time constraints or breathing constraints (I have asthma) I fully embrace the moment. Another reason, is the opportunity to perform with my brother; I love his singing voice, and we rarely get to do things like this together, and it really brings us closer.

One final reason, most closely connected to my previous post, is that I feel like God is fully in my heart when I raise my voice in song, especially songs about him and his son. The love that embodies a tune, the angst of the struggles, the power of his message, it all comes through so much more intensely for me in a song.

I am bursting with joy and anticipation!!! My song will carry love to the heavens!!!

Our spiritual connection.

I have always considered myself to be deeply spiritual. Even though I have a poor memory, so there is much that I don't remember about earlier years of my life, what I am able to recollect is the power that spirituality has always shown in my life.

Now, I am not really talking about religion here, except in the sense of how my spirituality has shown itself over the years. I am talking about a longing, a connection, a deep sensitivity to a realm totally outside of myself, yet part of me at the same time. Larger than anything in this world, yet small enough to fit inside my soul. The fear of the unknown, colliding with the peacefulness of knowing that all will be okay, all will be well.

Let me start by talking about my earliest memories of my spiritual experiences. I remember in my early teens, going to our local Catholic church, with my family for the biggies: Easter, Christmas Eve, Good Friday........ and the part that connected me to that spiritual side of myself was not so much the hymns, the prayers said in unison, the connection with others in the pews; it was the feeling of being in the presence of God, the knowledge that he was there, in that space, with us and watching over us. It was the incense and the candles and the sense that as current as I was, I was also in a time long ago, on the roads that Jesus walked......... spirituality at that time in my life, was observed by many, but it felt very much individual to me. My experience felt personal, I never spoke about it to anyone, and I really experienced most intensely when I was in a church.

As my teen years went by, I also found some connection with nature. I am Native American by heritage, of the Poarch Band Creek Nation from the state of Alabama, and enjoyed buying books and gaining knowledge about tribes, and spirits, and loving the earth. Being connected to animals, earth, and water also helped bring me a sense of soul, purpose, and connection. But it was still personally my own; I did not share it with others, I kept my thoughts and feelings to myself.

When I entered college, a Catholic college, I spent a great deal of time my first year in the Chapel, which was on the ground floor of my dorm. When it was late, and I was unable to sleep, and was plagued with concerns or worries, I went there for solace, for peace, for connection. I went during formal services also, sometimes even singing with the folk group, but my experience remained my own, my own journey, my own searching for God in those spaces alone.

In my twenties, I turned my back on churches. I was so sick and tired of churches judging me, judging others like me, putting restrictions and expectations on how I should worship, how I would be worthy to worship. I again turned to my Native American roots, I spent a lot of time alone, soul searching, I read many books, I sat by water, I grew my hair, I even had a vision of sorts; so, I saw spiritual connection in all that was living and part of the earth. I no longer darkened a church door to find it there. I was beginning to find it in the world at large.

Now, in these middle years of my time here on earth, my spiritual connection seems almost limitless. It doesn't only occur in my little quaint Methodist church that I belong to; it isn't only in the deer that run through my yard, or the trees that I plant, or the stars in the sky. I now see God in everything; every person, every object, every event. I feel His presence around me constantly; I sense Jesus' teachings and words in my every day actions; I feel the connection to the elders of my tribe of origin with every step I take upon Mother Earth. And, I share, I share my stories, I share my feelings, I commune with others of faith to also bring spiritual connection.

I have connected with what Melody Beattie calls the Divine Rhythm of Life.

The Bravery, Chapter 2.

Wow. All I can say is- wow. I have stated before to people, when I conduct trainings on lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender identity, that every time that I come out as a lesbian, right before I say the words, I feel like I am jumping off of a cliff. My stomach churns, my hands shake, my voice trembles, and I am afraid. Then, I jump. And then, I let go of my fear on the way down, and always land ever so softly, like a big, feather pillow catching me.

The WOW is because last night, during a meeting of our worship committee at our Methodist church, where we have been members for almost four years, I came out. I didn't come out and say, "I am a lesbian", but I spoke on behalf of the congregation beginning a adult Sunday school class, to discuss the damage some churches have done to those with a homosexual orientation. I also showed them a copy of a movie I recently purchased, called "For the Bible Tells Me So", which I want to show as part of the group. I said the words, and before I knew it, I was free falling through the air. Actually, the nerves begin in anticipation of the jump; but once I jump, once say the words, an overwhelming sense of calm and peace comes over me.

If this is not your life experience, that you have a gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender orientation, then it may be hard to understand the fear. It is fear of reaction, fear of rejection, fear of fear of others. Many persons, when they come out, and some even before they come out, are rejected by their families, friends, schools, and churches. And, I think that churches have the potential to do the most damage.

Why? Because, the church, or those in it, claim to know what God thinks about this issue, what the Bible factually says about this issue. Now, let me be clear. My partner and I joined this church as members, along with our daughter, four years ago. We had her baptized in this church one year later. We feel safe, secure, and loved there, by our pastor and our church family. However, I know that the Methodist church at large struggles a great deal with how welcoming it is willing to be to homosexual persons. So, there is work to be done. Even on our local level, conversations need to be had.

And I am ready for those conversations.

The response was overwhelming positive. People thanked me for speaking up with the idea, and agreed it is a great idea. My pastor agreed that we need to start talking about this important issue, that we all need the spiritual growth. And, I believe it is my calling. Not to be self-serving, not to have my own agenda. But, I firmly believe that God, Jesus, they are calling me to my congregation to bring this to light, educate and inform, and learn a lot myself in the process.

One more step in my journey of self-actualization. I am on the road to full self-love, the road to further spiritual awakening and connection.

I am ready.

The presence of arrogance.

I at times believe myself to be arrogant in my manner.

Bear with me here, just for a bit.

It is a strange thought pattern that I seem to go through. I believe myself to be very caring, loving, compassionate, knowledgable about many things.

Not all things.

However, there are times, times when I am encountering a person who I am giving new information to, when my knowledge seems to border on arrogance. At least, that is what I feel like. Even when I am not intending to be arrogant, I think I appear to be that way.

Confidence at times appears like arrogance to me. Why???

Maybe, it is a reflection of my own lack of confidence on some level; because I am not fully confident in the information which I share, I feel like I am giving an air of arrogance as if I "know it all".

Maybe it is because self-confidence is so misrepresented at times by persons in our culture; to be self-confident is to be self-absorbed, self-righteous, self-serving.

I don't believe myself to be any of those things. At least, I think I don't believe it.

What I have come to understand about persons that I have surrounded myself with in the past, is that, it can be very intimidating for someone to be around a person who exudes an air of confidence. The air of feeling very sure of herself, carrying herself in an upright, determined way, setting her sights on horizons that she is interested in.

What could be wrong with that?

As with so many things, things that bug us about other people are those things, or aspects, that we most loathe in ourselves. I find it to be so true of human nature. I am a confident person, so that means that those that have confidence issues, struggle with who I am. So, either they decide they no longer can be around me (although won't tell me that), or they treat me like total crap.

What a drag.......

And, if I state openly and assertively that I am confident, that I am working hard to achieve my goals, that I willingly go after things that I want, I appear to be bragging to others.

Tell me, isn't it a good thing if a person feels their own self-worth? Besides serving others, isn't that what this world is all about? Realizing the gem that we know as our true self??

It is one of those mysteries. One of those human conditions that still needs to be explored.

I am confident. I am on my true path. I feel great about those aspects of my self.

I think!!

COMFORT.......

I love to be comfortable, cozy, relaxed. For me, comfort looks like a nice, warm blankie on a cold rainy day. Wrapped up, cup of coffee, watching an old movie, snuggling with my favorite girls. The blankie, and it IS a blankie, not a blanket, is the softest of fleece, white with pink and red hearts all over it, a present from my girls for Valentine's Day. I love the comfort that it brings to me.

We all need comfort, even if we don't admit we need it. We all desire comfort, and I am talking a deeper form of comfort that having a house with all of the amenities, a car that has heated seats, or a job that pays a load of money. I am talking about comfort, comfort for the body, heart and soul. A deeper sort of comfort that sinks in deep. Can you picture it?

Take a moment, and think about a time when you have felt most vulnerable, most raw with pain and emotion? Maybe you were physically ill, maybe your heart was broken, maybe discouraged by the challenges of life. What did you envision as the thing, person, object, that would most make you feel better?

Before I resorted to a blankie and a cuddle, my comfort was always my mom. I had a comfort with my mother, when I was growing up, like nothing else in my life. I could tell her so much, in many words or very few. And she listened. And she hugged, when she could. And she was there for me. And she guided me, and she scolded me, too. But, to me, my mom was total comfort. When I was alone last year, and when I felt alone or sick or scared, I only wanted one person the most: my mom. Now, that is the comfort I am talking about here.

When I was growing up, we lived twenty miles from the town where I worked as a teen, and the town where my high school was located. So, when I needed to get somewhere, or get home from somewhere, my mom would drive me. And, we would talk, really talk, during those long car rides. About my day. About my friends. About my dreams, my fears. Comfort.

When I wasn't ready to face the school day quite yet, I would crawl into my mom's bed, after my dad had left for work, and just lay next to her. Comfort.

When I was sick last year, all alone in my apartment, my mom and dad were with me to help to take care of me. They brought me cool cloths for my head, made me soup, gave me my medicine. Comfort.

I still need my mom every now and again. And, when she is not with me, I have learned other ways of having comfort that feels as deep and as warm and as lovely. My blankie. My girls, honey one, and honey two (or, honey dew as she likes to say). An old movie.

As a mom, it is interesting how the cycle seems to repeat. Every day, I drive my daughter to school, because she doesn't want to take the bus. So, this morning, it hit me like a bolt of lightning: I have been here before, except, back then, I was the one in the back seat with the book bag. She talks to me, she shares secrets, she opens up. It is indescribable.

And, she crawls into bed with me when she isn't ready to face the day. She cuddles under her blankie next to me when she feels sad, lonely, or afraid. She comes up and stares into my eyes deeply.

Comfort.

What's yours?

Get some today, and every day. Life is too short to deprive yourself for one more minute.

New life is here!!!!!

My nephew, the newest addition to our family, my sister's first child, was born on Sunday morning at 3:45 AM. He is healthy, peaceful and perfect........

I am sitting on the edge of the chair at my desk all day today, because tomorrow morning, I will be getting in my car and driving to Virginia to see him, to hold him, to smell him, to absolutely fall in love with him.

I sense the change in my sister, my sister who for the last 81/2 months has called me almost daily, with every shift and change in her body, moods going up and down, crises and challenges that occurred, and plans that had to be made.

But, I know, it is now a major change. She has begun her new life, as mom. Mom to a little being that needs her more than anyone right now. I am anxious to view her in this new role, and also nervous, because I know that her new role changes my role in her life as well. I think that sounds selfish, in a way, although I don't mean to be selfish. I just know that I have a sense about what has changed for her, some changes she may not even realize yet, and the changes that are in store for us.

All of that aside, good or bad, tomorrow at this time I will be hours from viewing his beautiful face in person.

I love the smell of new babies.......

What are your intentions?

My belief about human behavior, is that almost everything that we say, do, think, and feel, we are in control. Behavior is holistic to me; so if we are thinking about something specific, which we do have control over our thoughts unless we have a severe mental health issue, those thoughts directly influence our emotions; hence, we have control over our emotions. I also believe that all behavior, all of the things that we do, say, think, and feel, are purposeful. There is a purpose and reason for everything that we do, even when what we do or think doesn't seem to make sense. It serves some purpose for a lesson, either now or further down our life's journey road.

Now, this does not mean that we always make the best choices; I am certain that many of us can identify with this; sometimes the choices that we make are harmful, destructive, or painful, yet the lessons come regardless, and at the time, it seems like the best decision that we can make. When I left my ten year relationship, and not only left it, moved out of our home, I was devastated, I was heartbroken, I was tired and drained, and I really believed that I was making the right choice. I still believe that was the right choice, it didn't feel good at the time, but it did feel right. However, when I was alone, in an apartment, without the familiar, without my child at times, without a partner, sometimes even without a friend, I drank. Drank way too much. This, I know, and I knew at the time, was a destructive decision, but it was the best I could do at that time, and as far as purposeful, it got me through the pain. I firmly believe it kept me from checking out........

So, I am going on and on here about what I believe the motivation of human behavior is; purposeful, in full control, lessons to be learned. Where does intention come in?

Our intentions are those things that we rely on as far as what we REALLY want. I am not talking here about the new car or the better house or the classy job; I am talking what in our hearts, we really want from something or someone, and also, what we are willing to do to get it. Intentions, on our part and on the part of others, are not always honorable. They are manipulative, needy, self-serving. They may be very subtle and go "under the radar", so to speak; we may not see the manipulation. I understand that we all meet a need for one another; my friends are in my life, not only because I enjoy their companionship, but also because we meet some need for one another, which is good and honorable. If we are open and upfront with ourselves, and with others, about what our intentions are.

I have met many people with less than honorable intentions toward me. They wanted something from me, something that was unsaid, but brought it to my life under the guise of friendship, of honesty and being forthright. I cannot tell you how many persons that I called friends I have encountered like that in the last couple of years; it is disturbing. Persons whom i enjoyed their company, helped me through painful times, laughed with me, and who I connected with. However, when I returned to my relationship, they disappeared. They stopped calling, they dropped out of sight. Why? I will never know; all I can suspect is that they had intentions that were not met for them. So, when I returned to a life that I feel very connected to, that is right for me, that fills my soul with joy and peace, it no longer met what they needed from me.

Did I know honestly what that was that they needed from me? Nope. It was never honestly spoken about. Even worse, their intentions were misrepresented in some ways: no expectation, no judgment, no agenda hidden up their sleeves. However, once I made some choices to carry on my life in a direction that was different from when they entered, or reentered my life, they disappeared...........

I have wondered on and off about why; did they have feelings for me? Did my return to my own relationship give them doubts about their own relationships? Am I too out about my gayness that they just cannot handle it for themselves? Was I meeting some need that helped to further their career? Did I dispel their own loneliness??? I have stopped wondering recently, because frankly, if a person does not tell me in what way I am or am not meeting their needs, in an honest and upfront way, I am powerless. I cannot solve a problem that I don't know exists.....

I also need to be clear in what my intentions are with others in my life. What purpose are they meeting for me? Is it emotionally healthy? Am I treating that person with respect? This is my own system of self-evaluation that I do in regard to my relationships, because I believe that everyone that I care about has a right to know where they stand in my life, as I have a right to know about where I stand in theirs. Intentions can be veiled, and when that happens, can be hurtful and manipulative.

And I am sooooooo not patient anymore for anything not up front and honest. I am way too old for that bullshit!!!

Day of Silence

Today is known as the day of silence. The day of silence is a national recognition, most prevalent on college campuses, of the silence that many gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender persons have to maintain in portions of their lives; to keep themselves physically, emotionally, or psychologically safe. It acknowledges that there are millions of LGBT persons in our nation, in our world, that we don't even know exist, because of fears that they possess.

What are those fears, and why do we have them? The fears are many, and the reasons are several. Fear of repercussions and rejection from family for their sexual orientation; fear of the church rejecting him or her; fear of job loss or housing discrimation or verbal or physical confrontation. Even fear of being killed. Sound overdramatic? Unfortunately, it's not.

Ever heard of Matthew Shephard? He is the young man, who already almost ten years ago, was at a local bar in Wyoming, and encountered two men, both heterosexual and angry, and extremely homophobic. The men told him that they were gay, and invited Matthew to leave the bar with them. They proceeded to beat Matthew severely, about the head, face and body, and then tied him to a split rail fence near his community. He was left there to die; he was discovered by a biker the next morning, having been hanging there all night. He was unconscious and barely alive. His face was covered with blood, except for the places that were streaked from his tears........

Matthew died a week later in the hospital. His mother, Judy, now travels the US and speaks to groups and legislators all over the country about the damage that homophobia and hatred can do. It can kill. I feel certain that if Matthew were alive today, he would not be living in silence, but out loud trying to change the ideas and beliefs held by some about gay persons.

But he isn't alive, is he? I find his death, as well as so many other deaths due to homophobic attitudes and hatred, senseless. I find all of those deaths that occur because an LGBT youth is rejected by everyone that they love in their lives when they come out, and kill themselves, senseless, angering, sad and it hurts my heart.

This is, indeed a day of silence. Silence in rememberance. Silence to acknowledge the need for so many of us, to hide away in shame, fear, self-loathing. On the other hand, I find it an appropriate time to speak out, use my voice, claim my sexual identity rightfully, proudly, and loudly. I feel certain, by having listened to the whispering of my heart, that I am totally perfect the way that I am. That I have the complete obligation to myself, and to my community, to speak out about the need to educate, inform, and reduce ignorance and hatred. I don't want to have to observe the Day of Silence forever.

The Whisper of your heart.

Have any of us ever had the experience of someone whispering in our ear, cupping his or her hand so that the message is only heard by you? Maybe giggling or even stumbling over what they want to say? Do you recall, if this has been your experience, how you need to really tune in as the listener, to be able to be fully attentive to what is being said? And, even sometimes, the whisperer has to repeat what he or she is saying, so that you make sure that you heard it correctly?

I know I have had this experience, most recently, the whisper of a child, usually my child, in my ear. The warm breath, the spit that hits the earlobe as she tries so hard to be quiet about it, the need for her to repeat it.

So it is with our heart, our true heart. Our heart whispers to us also. If we are busy living in our heads, filled with the lists of musts, and shoulds, and wishes, and mandates, then we never hear it, well, almost never. Living in our heads I guess, on most days, is a necessity of life at times. We need to take care of business, we need to work, we need to walk the dog, we need to pay the bills and rake the yard. But our heart patiently waits, and it is always talking to us.

At times, when our heart speaks to us, it sounds like a barely audible whisper. Again, that is if we are tuned in and listening. Because our heart doesn't always show itself mightily in order to be heard; we have to be the active listener for it to be heard. That whisper may be so quiet, that we need to strain to hear it. We need to stop, stop, stop what it is we are filling our moments with automatically, and really, REALLY listen........ what did you hear it say?

Other times, the heart, when we are tuned in to it mind you, is pounding at us loudly, consistently, waiting for us to become aware and respond. I don't know about you, but I really don't like being shouted at, to me this means I really haven't been listening. But, our heart voice has to do something to get our attention.

When I am really tuned in, tuned in to my heart voice, that whisper of a whisper, I feel so much more calm, so much more at ease, so much in better balance, a total part of my world around me. I feel like I can accomplish anything, that my dreams really can come true, that there can be a peaceful world, and that everything, no matter what the circumstances, is going to turn out just fine.

What is your heart voice saying to you? Remember, it is saying SOMETHING. What do you need to change in your life in order to attend to it, to really listen to what it has to say? Is it a barely audible whisper, or is it screaming to get your attention?

For every moment, every situation, every opportunity that you let slide by, that you do not listen to the whisper of your heart, you are missing a priceless opportunity to open the doors to everything you have ever wanted and dreamed. You are missing the opportunity to tune into your soul, and to feel complete.

Don't miss a day of completeness. Listen today. JUST DO IT.......

And, let me know what it says if you like!

The definition of culture.

I have been doing training and education in the area of culture, cultural diversity and cultural awareness for many years now. With each training that I conduct, with each group that I meet with, with each point of view that I hear, I learn something new. I learn that there are actual cultural differences, and at the same time, I learn that there are not. Confusing? You bet.

What I have learned the most over the years is that I have a lot to learn. Like many of us, I always thought of culture, at earlier points in my life, as basically what your religion is, what race you are, and whether you are male or female. Boy, was I shortsighted!!!! How was I know that culture is, oh, so much more than that......

I have come to embrace a definition of culture that I came across as a trainer, and I believe best fits my point of view. Culture: represents the vast structure of behaviors, ideas, attitudes, values, habits, beliefs, customs, languages, rituals, ceremonies and practices "peculiar" to a particular group of people. It provides them with a general design for living and patterns for interpreting reality. It determines how we see the world- and the way we see the world is reflected in our behavior. Wade Nobles

Wow. That is SOOOOOO beyond religion and race and gender. Takes some time to absorb and make sense of. But, it DOES make sense. Let's look at it a piece at a time.

First, the structure of behaviors, ideas, etc; particular to a group of people. This makes sense to me. For my purposes, when I was being raised as Catholic growing up, being Catholic meant going to church, repenting my sins, receiving communion, and fearing God's wrath. Growing up in the country, meant that we had to drive everywhere to get somewhere; meant that we saw wild animals in our yard at times; meant that we couldn't hear traffic on the road. Growing up with two parents, meant I came to view and expect different aspects of parenthood from my father as my mother; meant that I had two parents around when I needed them. Growing up with a Native American heritage, although we did not traditionally observe any rituals, meant that I was tuned into the earth, the sky, the importance of caring for living things. Being college educated helped me to view the world a certain way, to make friends, to learn about the world, to leave home and survive it. All part of my personal experience, therefore, all meant to be aspects of my culture and cultural experience.

Now, the second part of the definition. Provides us with a general design for living, patterns for interpreting reality. How true is this???? All that I say, do, think, believe, even learn, occurs through my "cultural lens" if you will. How I see the world, is directly influenced by how I have been brought up into the world right up until today; every experience, every moment that I have already lived, brings me to now. So yes, that includes the biggies like religion and race and gender, but it also includes where I was raised, my family dynamic, what our food traditions were, whether we spent time with extended family, whether I went to private or public school. All of these cultural experiences influence how I view the world, therefore, how I also interact with the world.

Now, I didn't grow up with one particular ethnic background that got perpetuated through the kind of foods we would eat, or the traditions that we would observe, or even our manner of dress. Our ethnicity in our lineage is pretty diverse, everything from Scottish to Irish to German to English to Native American; I embrace and appreciate all of those diverse cultures that make up my culture.

The more I learn about individual cultures, the more that learn that even though there are some similarities, among those similarities there are stark differences as well. What do I mean by this? If someone were to tell me that all Catholics observe not eating meat on Fridays, I could assume that all Catholics, all good Catholics anyway, should do that. Learning about commonalities among persons of the same culture can create the habit of generalizing about groups of people. When I conduct training on lesbian and gay identity issues for adolescents, many times those in my groups will ask me to tell them how different ethnic and religious groups view gay identity. I can't do that, I can't just put a label on someone that perpetuates a generalization.

This is a tough balance however. Because I am not suggesting that we should not all have our cultural observations and traditions; at the same time, we need to respect the individuality and differences within that culture. In addition, we need to recognize the similarities between different cultures and cultural experiences.

Sanityfound is so right, when she writes about blogging as a way to break down barriers, and to be able to traverse the cultural landscape of this world. What an opportunity that we have before us here, in the blogosphere.......to reach across divides and create unity.

Maybe peace on earth is possible after all!

New life yet to come.

I have a sister, who is only a few years younger than me, who is turning 40 this year, who I still call my baby sister. When we were young, she was just a tot, she was sick so many times, in the hospital frequently with pneumonia. My parents would spend days by her bed, until she was ready to come home again. There were times when I would go visit her, because she would eat and cooperate for no one else but me. I would carry her around on my hip, keep her close. Then when I got a bit older, I would beg my mother to keep her away from me and my friends; she would still lurk around corners, waiting for me. I would go into her room to check on her, I would love to watch her growing and excited about things.

As a young adult, she struggled with so much emotionally. She struggled with her view of herself, and came very close to death by not caring for herself properly, because she didn't CARE for herself. She begged me not to tell our parents, but I was scared that she would die, so I did tell.

She was mad at me for a very long time.

Then, she got married. I wanted to like her husband, but it was hard because I wasn't sure that he would be good to her. Well, I did end up liking him, and he ended up not being nice to her. I felt helpless, and intrusive, and didn't know how to help her.

Then, she left him, found her own voice, her own space, a career that worked for her, and we spent time together. Distance kept us from being together often, but when we were, we made it priceless time. Just talking, sharing, laughing, hugging, crying, remembering.......

Last year, she married the man who she is destined to be with. He is a blessing, a genuine person who is just himself with no apology, and lets her be herself, with no apology.

A match made in heaven.......

She desperately wanted a child, however. She always believed it would not happen for her. There were almosts, there were disappointments and tears, and there were worries and anxious moments.

But, it came true. My newest nephew is scheduled to arrive, fully developed, any moment now. When I think on it long enough, it feels almost unbelievable to me, that the dream she wanted most for herself, but feared most for herself because she thought she would be no good at it, is coming true for her, for them. I can't think about it for too terribly long, because while I am waiting, I have to work, I have to drive, I have to sleep.

But, I can't wait to see him. Better, I can't wait to see her see him........

I love my sister so much.

The Bravery.

There is a band called this that I have not partaken yet, although I am intrigued by the name. And I use that as my title today, because I called up the bravery in myself today. It must have come from a true, real source within, because I knew that it felt like it was beyond me as it was happening.

I scheduled an appointment with my representative of my district today, to discuss my concerns about SB 1250 here in Pennsylvania; the Marriage Protection Amendment. It wants to amend our state's constitution, to declare marriage as only between one man and one woman, and to not allow any room for civil unions, or any other kind of joint relationship acknowledgement for LGBT couples.

I don't know if I was born a radical, or destined to be an activist. But, I am, that is for sure. I am an activist simply because I actively participate in the process; I don't just sit by and let it wash over me. I don't get complacent about issues that are important; I mean, the reality of life is that different issues become important at different times of my life. But, the bottom line is, I don't want to sit idly by and let the world make the rules, fair or unfair. And, then gripe about them without using my voice to speak up.

And, today, I spoke up. Spoke up about why amending our constitution is wrong; spoke about why my committed, long term relationship should be validated; why gay marriage will in no way negatively impact on straight marriage; why my family deserves protection. I found my voice yet again, and the bravery it took to not get laryngitis.

I am woman, hear me ROAR......

Walking, waking, deliberate meditation.

Do you meditate?

If so, how?

I do, at least in my definition, I do.

There are various definitions of meditation, I think. Depending on what works for you as an individual, it could be sitting still, postured, for an hour or more at a time. It could be in writing, painting, drawing, singing. It could be time in nature; time with children; time alone. It could be all of the above.

My definition, or action, of meditation has definitely changed, or even, evolved, over the past twenty or more years of my life. I remember my life BEFORE meditation, running here and there, never stopping to take a breath or a moment even, to think about my presence here. My older sister, Cindy, introduced me to it, although I am not sure if she did so intentionally. I was in my twenties, and she was paying me a visit. She brought with her a dozen or so books, with various affirmations in them. She told me, and showed me, that she spent an hour, or more, every morning, reading, writing, and reflecting. She told me that it influenced her mood, in a positive, calming way. I liked the idea. So, I tried it on for size.

Back then, meditation looked almost identical to the way in which she showed me; I would get up a bit earlier in the morning, read a few affirmations, be still with myself, and write and reflect on life and the day, on the writings, on the stillness of the morning. Then, after a time, I might only read an affirmation in the morning, in between swilling down my coffee or rushing out of the shower. Then, I did nothing, because I DIDN'T HAVE THE TIME.......

The evolution for me of meditation is now not just a reading of affirmations, a writing in a journal. It is being ever present ALL DAY LONG. That is a challenge, for me anyway. To pull myself out of the task at work, the financial worries, the broken wrist of my daughter, the dance recital, the holiday, and to just be present in the moment of it, without visually reading in my mind the list of all of the things that I must not forget. Be here, be now, just for now......

I believe that meditation has evolved in this way for me, because of my perspective on the value of my life, and the fact that, every moment, every event, every day with its tasks, holds lessons, gifts, and obstacles for me that I don't want to lose out on. So, my ever presence means that I am meditating, on the gift of life, almost all of the time. It is not perfect, but it is the closest I have at this point. It keeps me balanced, it keeps life in perspective, and I really believe it keeps me healthy and sane......

The Challenge of Friendship

I will often refer to the fact that I have many friends. Friends in different parts of the country, friends through the work that I do, friends that used to be lovers, friends that came into my life unexpectedly. There are friends who have been in my life for years, and others that I have recently met. Friends all around.

The concept, and I use that term intentionally, of friendship is a very complex yet interesting one. Friendship definitely means different things to different people. That is fine, as long as everyone is clear on the definition for themselves, and for those that they call friends. That is where it gets complex and a little hazy at times. For example, if my definition of friendship means that I will hear from my friend in response to a telephone call, email, or text, but that person defines it as getting back whenever they have a chance, that could create conflict. I like to think that I don't expect that those I know drop everything when they hear from me, but at least, CALL BACK. TEXT BACK. SOMETHING.

I have gotten to be pretty saavy about figuring out why a person is in my life, cosmicly, I mean, and not only why, but what capacity they are to be in my life. So, I know that one friend in particular came into my life to help me to explore my academic side and to recount my history; I have one friend who calls to the activist in me; I have a whole slew of friends, internet friends no less, that call me to a higher level of learning and connection to the human race, to my spiritual side, to my nonviolent side. Others remind me to stay in today, have more fun, take care of your family, and have another drink. So, figured out that side of it.

The part that I read on, and am now pondering, is what role I play in THEIR lives. That is part that needs to remain a mystery. Yet, in the past, the times that I have gotten stuck is when I try to think I KNOW what purpose I have had in my friend's life, without that friend sharing that info with me. Meaning: I try to read their thoughts/heart/process to know the TRUE reason them to want to keep me around. Truth is, that ain't my truth to know. I can wonder about it, suppose about it, fret or obsess about it. It won't help me to know it, unless that friend brings it to me, in gratitude, in anger, in sadness, in elation. I CAN'T KNOW WHAT THAT REASON IS; THAT IS FOR THAT PERSON ALONE TO DEFINE, AND TO SHARE OR TO KEEP WITHIN.

I believe in the truth, the spoken, written and heart felt word. However, many people don't. Too afraid, too burned, too isolative. So, all that I can do is speak my truth, live my truth, love my truth, and trust that I will always know MY purpose. That is what counts.

Saying goodbye.

I have recently been thinking on the idea that I don't like the thought of death, of those that I love the most leaving this earth. There are many days that I feel very close to God, and to Jesus, and believe that in the afterlife, we are all well cared for. However, it is the idea of loss of those that I love being present here on earth, being able to call them on the telephone and hear their voices live, hug and kiss them in person. However, we are all called at some point, and my parents are aging, so I am trying to come to some peace about it, in some ways at least.

Yet, there is another part of my relationship with them that is equally as difficult to let go of, to say good bye to. My dreams, my dreams about them and for them. My dreams about them are that they will live healthy lives, make healthy choices, that my dad won't drink every day, that he will understand how booze will kill him, that my mother won't enable him or eat food in the middle of the night. That my brother will lose 100 pounds or more, so that he doesn't drop dead tomorrow of a stroke, or heart attack. That he will challenge all of his demons from years ago head on, so that he can get rid of that control on him and live a happier, healthier life.

But, the thing is, those are dreams. Dreams of how I want things, or wish things to be. Things that may be, but will probably never be. The more that I focus on what I hope or dream that they will choose, the more struggles that I have with the way in which they currently live their lives. I don't want to define who they are to me in that way. The thing is, these dreams come from a place of hope and love for my family; but to a certain degree, it is also a way for me to be in control of something that I have no control over.

So this weekend, I decided to let go of those dreams; put them on the shelf. Live my life and love my family just as they are in this moment. I may have them for years to come, or maybe not. But in the meantime, I want to love them as fully and gratefully as I can. Because they are doing the best that they can do, and I am loving them for it.

Radical dyke!

Okay, now I know that some days more than others, I think I am a little off center. A bit strange and peculiar. It is probably not any more peculiar than anyone else, but have you ever spoken to someone, and see the glazed stare come over then in the middle of you speaking? Well, I have to say that it happens to me fairly often.

I have come to understand about myself in the last few months that I am becoming quite radical in my older years. I have always been inclined to speak my mind, and to try to aspire to fully be myself, but that version of myself has been more open in the last few years. Not in any way more than in regard to my sexual orientation; hence, the word DYKE.

There seems to be times when this word is most appropriate. For years, I called myself "gay", meaning I like women, and I am a woman. Gay did not seem to be affiliated with one gender or another; I never felt the need to ascribe to the idea that only men who like men could be referred to as "gay", so it seemed to fit.

Then, I began to use the word "lesbian", that yucky, uncomfortable word for most of the lesbians that I know. They hate to hear it, hate to say it, hate to be called it, even though factual. I mean, it is our own, personal word. I would never call a gay man a "lesbian"; it is strictly reserved for us women who love women.....

Now, "dyke" has not been a word that has ever been personally used against me. And, there are times that I have used it in a derogatory sense about other women that I have met in the LGBT community nearby. But, call me old fashioned or strange, I am taking a liking to this term. In describing myself, I mean. I like being a dyke (and I am a poet and don't know it...).

However, the word "dyke" has to go with the word "radical" before it for me, because it seems to fully describe where I am at in this present time of my life. I feel the need to educate, inform and help others to have an understanding of who I am, and who LGBT people in general want and need. But, as peaceful and nonviolent as I can be in those endeavors, there are also times that I just want to be a radical dyke: WE'RE HERE, WE'RE QUEER, GET USED TO IT. That kind of radical behavior. I have days when I am just so sick and tired of those people that say they just cannot understand, that just want to believe how flawed and diseased and perverted we are. There are those that just don't want to believe that for me, it is all about the love, the connection, the place of peace and serenity where I belong.

Radical dyke, hmmm.

I am liking it a lot. I am coming into my own. I am ready to speak up and speak out and not be afraid to say what I am out loud and proud, with no apologies and no exceptions. It is about being as self loving as I can possibly be, and shouting it out on the rooftops.

Is there a job description for being a radical dyke?

If so, sign me up.

I am all over it.

Life goes on........

Last week, my partner had to have one of her cats put to sleep. The one that she has had the longest; she had her for eighteen years, since the cat was a tiny kitten. Abandoned. She had been getting sicker over the last year, and had a flare up last week that was just awful. So was the decision to take her to the vet. We are all still crying over it.

At first, we were all, the two of us and our daughter, reeling from the loss. Not sure how to feel better, seeing her all around the house, hearing her meow, waiting for her to come up on the bed for the night, hearing the purr. It was like an open wound, still is in some ways. We talked about and thought about new life, a new kitty to come in. I mean, we are total animal rescuers; every pet that we have besides the angel fish is a rescue (although, we did rescue the angel fish from the pet store!!). Three of the cats we had left were found in the street, dumped or left behind. One was adopted at the shelter, as was the dog AND the guinea pig. We tend to find the animals in trouble, or maybe they find us.

Well, the day after Pookie died, one of my partner's coworkers told her about a stray kitten that had been spending a great deal of time on her deck. Calico, young, cute, needing a home, which she was not able to give her. At first, we both said no, we are not ready. But, then, the hole in our hearts felt so great, that we decided, why not?

We brought our new baby home on Sunday. Her name is Luna Tasha Lovegood. She is adorable and cuddly and friendly, and after three whole days, she acts like she has been with us her whole life. I know that there are some people who are not "pet people"; that certainly does not describe us. Even on the days when we are tired, frustrated, and the last thing we feel like doing is changing a litter box or walking a dog, they look at us adoringly, or cuddle with us on the couch, and then we know, this is our calling.

Life does go on, as different as it is the same. We love you Pook.......

The truth.

The truth of my life has been nagging at me for the last few years now.

Truth. What a concept.

Truth about what I want. Truth about who I am. Truth about what I stand for. Truth.

There are a great many people in this world who are not truthful. I don't think what I mean by that is that he/she is lying about something, although, in some ways, he or she is. I mean the more subtle untruths.

Untruths about who we are, who we love, what our value is.

We have been told lies, and told our selves lies about who we are and who we love and what that all means. And yes, those are lies. They are damaging, hateful, destructive lies.

Those lies have cost the LGBT community lives and lifelihood. Sanity and good choices. Years of self-esteem. Relationships that seemed right, but were what society wanted us to be.

Lies perpetuated by a system bigger than ourselves.

I believed those lies once upon a time. Lies about who I am, and who society said I should, or should not, be. Not just society, religion too.

So, the truth.

The truth has always been nagging at the back of my brain. Whispering to me at first about who I REALLY am and what would make me TRULY happy.

At first, I couldn't bear to listen. To listen meant change, struggle, pain, angst.

But then again, the lies meant change, struggle, pain, angst.

At some point, I kicked the lying voice out of my head and out of my heart.

The truth is no longer whispering to me: IT IS A ROAR.

And the roar says: You are worthwhile. You are vital. You are beloved. God adores you. You deserve everything. What you want, what you have the right to, MATTERS.

That roar has gotten so loud in my head, that now I have to ROAR.

And roar I shall. For me. For my partner. For our daughter.

FOR OUR SOULS, ALL OF US.