Lessons of Life and love

Keep walking up that hill!

2008-06-03T06:51:00.000-07:00

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!

2008-06-02T10:05:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-02T07:42:00.000-07:00

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.....

2008-05-30T13:44:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-05-30T13:43:00.001-07:00

The beauty of divine love

2008-05-28T06:50:00.000-07:00

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.....

2008-05-27T07:42:00.000-07:00

.......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......

2008-05-23T08:43:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-05-22T06:32:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-05-21T09:09:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-05-20T13:21:00.000-07:00

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........

2008-05-20T13:01:00.000-07:00

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??

2008-05-19T08:26:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-16T19:47:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-05-13T09:51:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-05-13T09:35:00.000-07:00

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?

2008-05-09T09:58:00.001-07:00

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.

2008-05-07T09:10:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-05-07T06:40:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-05-06T12:04:00.000-07:00

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!!!!

2008-05-02T10:05:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-05-02T07:55:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-04-30T05:38:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-04-29T11:48:00.000-07:00

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.......

2008-04-29T10:19:00.000-07:00

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!!!!!

2008-04-23T06:39:00.000-07:00

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?

2008-04-23T06:17:00.000-07:00

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

2008-04-17T06:34:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-04-17T05:56:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-04-16T06:12:00.001-07:00

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.

2008-04-15T10:31:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-04-11T13:33:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-04-02T05:33:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-25T12:12:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-03-17T12:39:00.000-07:00

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!

2008-03-13T08:12:00.000-07:00

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........

2008-03-12T09:34:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-03-10T09:22:00.000-07:00

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.

The new and improved definition of service.

2008-03-07T11:55:00.001-08:00

I was reading one of my affirmations today. From the book, "Journey to the Heart", by Melody Beattie. She inspires me almost daily. Today she wrote about redefining the meaning of service in our lives. It really spoke to me.

I think that I have lived a life of some type of service or another for most of my life. Wanted to give, do, be there for others. Those others were family members, friends, classmates, pets, neighbors. Whether it was cleaning the house, walking the dog, babysitting, helping a friend through a difficult time, giving a ride, I was giving and helping and doing for others. I believe that I always gave genuinely and willingly, and I really don't think that I wanted anything in return. Nothing, that is, except love and acceptance. With my family, love and acceptance came easy for me. Sure, there were times when I was sick and tired of being told what to do, or having to deal with being a big sister, or having to do stuff around the house because both of my parents worked. But I never felt unloved or unappreciated. I was pretty secure in that regard.

Friends? My peer group? That was another story. No matter how okay I felt at times about myself, I really never thought that I measured up. I was too fat. I didn't have the most modern clothes. I didn't have my own car. I wasn't in the popular crowd. I didn't stand up for myself very forcefully. In those days, for much of my life, I didn't really love , or even, like myself all that much. I wanted to, I really think I did. But it just didn't come. My view of myself was based on what others reflected back onto me. So, when the light was shining from others, I felt a bit better. When they weren't so kind, neither was I to myself.

The new and improved definition of service is one in which the service comes fully from a soul that truly loves itself. And, you know what? That TOTALLY makes sense. I mean, how can I truly give of myself to others, if that "self" is unworthy of love? Doesn't that have to come first? Self love before all else? At times in my life, I have thought that self-love seemed kinda hokey. Not anymore. I really think it is true and necessary to make lasting change to ones' life. And, I see the transformation.

For me, there is nothing like giving, or serving another, when there is absolutely nothing in it for you except the knowledge that you put a hand out to someone to pull them up. Not recognition, not awards, not admiration. But, to truly serve others in that way, you need to love yourself enough to give that. Be secure enough in yourself to share what you have with others. And have faith that you are special enough to have that gift to give them. It is about being led to what we truly need to do, not what we think we ought to do. That is the purest form of love. Love of self that you are willing to share.

LIVE BIG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-02-29T07:06:00.000-08:00

I have always been a doer. If something seems interesting or exciting to me, I like to try it out. Nothing dangerous, mind you, I scream like a baby when I am scared, like an amusement park ride that is too fast and too high off the ground kinda scared. But, if I like the sounds of something, I try it on for size.

I was reading one of my affirmations today, and was thinking about how there are so many people in this world that don't take chances. That don't try something on. They may read about adventure, inquire about travel, think about changing jobs, or dream about meeting that special person. But, they don't just do it. I know that I take for granted that I have that drive in me, that many do not.

What is it that holds people back from just doing it? Insecurity about their own abilities to do it maybe. Maybe a fear about what others will think. Maybe in striving for perfection they believe that they will fall short. Wanting to fit in they don't want to rock the boat. Maybe because they envision their lives in a certain way and cannot envision change for themselves. Now, I have had many of those thoughts, fears, and insecurities as well; I have worried what it may look like to pursue a certain path, strive for a certain goal; I may worry that I will fail, or at least, be not very good at it. I worry that it isn't the right decision, that I should just stay put.

However, a couple of things are at play with this that help me through it. First of all, I always want to be able to say to myself that I at least TRIED something if I was interested in it. At least then, the mystery is no more. The other part is bigger though. When it all comes down to it, if I don't like that new job or I am not happy with my new hobby, I don't feel satisfied with the person I am dating, I always have a choice to change it. No decision has to be the end of the line; it is always okay to realize when something does not work out for us, and to check out what our alternatives are. And, I don't ever believe that time spent on something that doesn't work out is time wasted. There is always a lesson in it, some more profound than others, but always significant and always pointing us more toward where we need to be going.

Life is good, and I want to live it, and live it big. I don't think I know how to dream small anymore, or how to tell myself that I can't do something. How grand!

Why is it that people just don't understand?

2008-02-26T11:35:00.000-08:00

When I was growing up, I imagined and daydreamed about one day, meeting the man of my dreams, getting married, living in a house with a white picket fence (no, really!) and a dog, and having a few kids and being happy for the rest of my life. Even driving a station wagon, which today, would be a mini-van. I really believed in the dream.

Then, one day, late in my adolescence, I discovered that the dream would be a bit varied from my original imaginings. Instead of the man, it would be the woman of my dreams, not sure I wanted a white picket fence anymore, or a station wagon, but for sure wanted the kid, or kids, and the secure way of life with the woman of my dreams. Doesn't sound so strange, does it?

I feel like most days, and on some of those, most moments of my days, are spent on finding a way to either hide who I am, tell people that appear to be safe, or justify to others why my relationship and family is perfectly okay the way that it is. To try to convince them that it is not sinful, it is not perverse, it is not abusive, it is LOVE, pure and simple. I am a high energy person, and also a person with a lot of patience, but frankly, I get damn sick of it after awhile.

I mean, who can argue with love that shows itself in every thought, every word, every action, every moment? Who can deny the level of commitment that we have made to one another, and to our child, our home, our pets, our livelihood? Who can call it a "lifestyle" and really think that the term can fully describe what we have or who we are?

I know that much of the problem that persons have with lesbian identity is based on religious beliefs. I have heard the Bible quotes used; never used on me, but on others that I know. I know that for some of those people, they really care about my salvation and well-being. I know that they believe that they are being God loving, or maybe, God fearing people by enlightening me on the right way to live my life.

But, you know what? I am also a child of God. And a follower of Jesus Christ. Proudly following the teachings and example of Jesus. And, I believe not in a God or Jesus that serves my selfish needs. I am not trying to make God something that fits me, rather than me going to Him on his terms. But, my representation of God that I most want to emulate and reflect upon is Jesus, His son. And I feel confident in Jesus' love for me, and respect for all aspects of who I am. I live my life as a good person; my partner and I are both very loving, giving people. And, we are raising our daughter to be that way as well. And, we go to church, and have a church community that openly embraces us. They don't appear to have any problem with who is in our family, and don't seem to think that we aren't a reflection of God's love.

What more can any human being do, except be the best person that he or she can be, and try to be happy without hurting others along the line? I know that we have the right idea. I just wish it weren't so hard for others to view us so harshly. Maybe that means I am closer to God than they want to believe......

My journal.

2008-02-25T07:27:00.000-08:00

I have had to learn many lessons in life, about many different types of issues. Being gay. Being a parent. Being a counselor. Facing challenges of addiction in the family. Love. Death of loved ones. But one area that has been a struggle for me most of my forty something years of life I see whenever I look in the mirror. My weight.

I am not a person that obsesses over my appearance due to some misperception of how I look. Well, in part it might be that. But it is rooted in the fact that since I was eight years old, I have been overweight, sometimes a lot, sometimes a little. I currently am about ten pounds more than I should weigh for my height, but I have been as much as eighty pounds overweight in the past.

When I was a kid, I was teased, got called names, and not just once in a while: ALL THE TIME. Every day in grade and middle school, less in high school, but by then, the damage had been done. I tried to feel good about myself, but it was difficult when I had been teased so often. For so long. It really sucked.

I did every diet and diet plan there was. I counted calories. I did the cabbage soup diet, I did Slim Fast, I did pill supplements, I joined TOPPS (Taking off pounds sensibly); there, you weighed in weekly, and got on the scale backwards, and then, they announced your loss or gain in front of the entire group. Public humiliation. I was 13.

I never had to fight the battle alone. My whole family battled with weight, mostly being overweight, although my younger sister fought anorexia. Both were eating disorders; food was a friend, a consoling means, a boredom fighter, food became more than nourishment.

Over the last few years, since I gave birth to my daughter ten years ago, I have lost probably seventy pounds, slowly but surely. Maintained for periods of time, then gained a few, then got back on track. Weight Watchers seems to work the best, as far as an eating plan. That is where the journal comes in. I do much better when I write stuff down. Each meal, each measure, to keep a general idea of my intake and what I am actually eating. It may sound funny, but I need to be aware of my eating to keep it in control. I have to be a conscious eater.

This task, my journal, my eating journal, that is, is the easy part to me. With the right level of motivation, I can stick to any eating plan. The hard part is the other reason I want to resume using an eating journal. I cannot wake up in the morning and look in the bathroom mirror without doing an assessment of my body. Does my waist look thicker than yesterday? Are my thighs touching today? Are my hands swollen? Do my thighs spread out more when I sit on the toilet than they did yesterday? On the days that I think I overindulged the day before, I will purposely not look at myself naked in the mirror, because of how horrified I will be at the sight of an extra bulge or two. May sound strange, but ask any person who has struggled with weight for years, I bet these are some of the same types of behaviors they engage in. But what I realized this morning, is that my mirror perception is as large of a part of this issue that I need to address as what I eat, and how much exercise I get. I don't even know if my perception in the mirror is accurate, but I gauge my day on it.

So today, I made two commitments to myself. First, I am going to buy an actual journal to keep track of my eating, and my thoughts about my body and my weight. I need to kick this monkey the hell off of my back. Next, I promised myself on this very day, that every time I look in the mirror, which I will intentionally do every morning, I will say/think something positive and actively loving about what I see. I need to embrace all of me, and I have done so much for the inside, I need to love the outside, too.

Waiting for the snow.

2008-02-21T20:21:00.000-08:00

I am an early bird. And I am a night owl. How can the two species thrive in one body, and possibly get enough sleep, you ask? Simple, I DON'T get enough sleep. I am always so afraid of missing out on something, so I stay up late because I am not ready for the day to be over, to just have to sleep and wake up and start work again. And, I love getting up early to greet the day, enjoy the quiet, drink hot coffee, and be thankful to be here. Unfortunately, there is not always that many hours in between late night joy and early morning caffeine.

I have recently been trying a new regimen. Less caffeine in the evening. Not turning on the television. Reading which helps me to wind down and get tired. Until I just fall asleep out of pure exhaustion. Tonight, though, besides watching the Presidential debates, in part, so I can really decide where I am between Barack and Hillary (I think I know, actually; it has been a challenge since I REALLY wanted John Edwards), I am waiting for the snow, hence, the title of this blog entry. We are due for, yet again, a REALLY BIG STORM. Snow, sleet, freezing rain, starting any minute now, and going throughout the day tomorrow. For the rest of you northerners who have snow more often, are you aware of the quiet in the air, just hours before snow begins to fall? The streaky, cloudy sky, and the moon barely visible through the pre-snow mist? The change in the pressure of your head and sinuses? The crispness of the air? Believe me, I am ready for the spring. I want to see the flowers blooming and feel the warm sun, have it be light out when I wake up, and not have to shovel. But, one more BIG STORM would be fun, to not be able to drive anywhere, just be stuck at home, cozy and safe, and not having to do anything.

So, will I be up early tomorrow? You bet. I need to see what schools are closed. And see if I get a snow day, too.

What a long, strange trip it's been!

2008-02-21T08:47:00.001-08:00

I have had the weirdest, most significant two years of my life. I have been through so many changes, ups and downs, moments of despair and moments of pure joy. Losses, gains, love lost, love regained, health good and bad. I can easily say, in looking back on it, that it has literally been the most profound personal changes that I have ever been through. No small task, considering that I have most of life, felt like I was in a constant state of change and evolution.

It began two years ago, when I left my long term relationship after months of struggling. It was the hardest decision I have ever made. However, I really believed that we would self-destruct as individuals and a couple if I didn't leave it. As much as it was about us, as a couple, it was mostly about me. Selfish, huh? No, more like self-loving in my eyes. I had really stopped loving myself, even stopped liking myself much. Actually, as I say that, I don't know how much I really ever had liked or loved myself. I don't know that I had to BE ALONE to figure it all out, but at the time that seemed like the safest way to do so.

Then, I got sick. Really sick. Sicker than I have ever been in my entire life. Sick enough to need my mom close by, and she was with me, thankfully. So sick that I wasn't sure I would get through it. Overdramatic? Not really. Just felt that bad, that powerless to what was affecting me.

Then, I got REALLY depressed. So depressed, that I told a friend that I just wanted to crawl into a corner and just disappear. I cried more than I think that I ever did in my whole life. I cried some more. I spent time alone and time with others. I wished and prayed for my life to get better, but believed that it wouldn't. I tried different paths that seemed to go in the right direction, but were totally wrong. I drank way too much and too often. I isolated. I smoked. I gave up, in a way.

Then, I woke up. I have to say, that I believe that 12 steps saved my life. Not because I went to meetings; not because I got sober, although I did stopped drinking every day. I read, and read, and read, affirmations every day. Affirmations about love, loss, hope, redemption, forgiveness. It really was/is the main thing that gets me through. I faked it til I made it, acted as if I was okay until I was okay. Acted like I was lovable until I believed it, until I embraced myself with self-love in the most open way I could imagine. This is one example of an affirmation that got me through, by Melody Beattie:

"Many of us have been pushed out of the nest. Something unexpected happened, and our world changed. We may have fought valiantly to get back in the nest, to return to the safety of life as we knew it. But life had pushed us out. We had no choice but to flap our wings and learn to fly the best we could. With all of your fears and resistance, it has still been a grand and powerful time. You flailed around a bit, wondering who to trust. You tried to trust others, then found that didn't work. Finally you understood. THE VERY LESSON YOU WERE LEARNING WAS THAT OF TRUSTING YOURSELF. YOU WERE LEARNING TO LISTEN TO AND TRUST YOUR INNER VOICE. YOU WERE LEARNING TO OPEN YOUR HEART. DESPITE ALL YOUR FEARS, YOU HAVE DONE A GRAND JOB. LOOK HOW MUCH YOU'VE CHANGED! YOUR INSTINCTS AND INTUITION ARE FINELY TUNED. YOUR INNER VOICE IS CLEAR. AND DESPITE ALL YOUR FEARS ABOUT BEING ABANDONED, YOU NW SEE HOW MUCH YOU ARE LOVED."

I do see it now. I see it reflected from those I love, I see it in my dog's eyes, but most of all, I see it in myself. I see how I have come to love this quirky person I call me.

Don't forget the FUN of it all.

2008-02-20T11:51:00.000-08:00

I have tended to be a serious person by nature. I think that is true for a couple of reasons. First, I grew up in a loving and supportive, but very serious type household. Do your chores. Watch your brother and sister. Help with dinner. Take out the dog. And, make sure that you go to work every day, school even when you are sick, and always be responsible. I also grew up as a more serious type, I think, because of the culture of alcoholism in my family growing up. My dad still struggles with addiction, and it always affected our family in a very serious way, all in different ways, but serious.

The other reason that I think that I am so serious is because of the work that I do. I think that I was born a social worker, a helper. Again, the home environment influenced that, no doubt about it. But, as a social worker, I often see the worst part of people, the most complex and disturbing problems, the highest level of need in a human being. After awhile, it is hard not to view all of life as one serious ride.

Lately, however, I have been having more fun. No, I am not riding more roller coasters or watching more comedies on television. HAVING FUN. That means something different for each one of us. But, for me, it goes beyond having a good laugh, although that is certainly part of it. It is also about embracing the joy of the moments, seeing the smiles and the happiness around you without being brought down by reality. There are two biggest ways that I meet my need for fun.

First, I LIVE IN THE MOMENT. I experience/throw myself into whatever is going on at any given time, and try not to let myself be distracted from it. Just enjoy, savor, take in, take on, be with, be in, whatever is going on. Even if it is not so pleasant, there are always aspects that lead me to my other way I meet my need for fun.....

I LEARN. I am a lifelong learner, no doubt about it. Even when I give myself a hard time for having a horrible memory, I love to learn new facts, things, tidbits, and skills. So, even when a moment doesn't seem to have much fun in it, and actually may even be painful, there is always a lesson in it. A lesson that I have learned already, and need to relearn, or a new one. But, to me, learning is fun. Fun is the payoff for learning; learning enables me to engage in this upside down process of life more fully, more informed, more equipped for anything that comes my way.

I am surrounded by many people in my life that like to have fun, but the most frequent reminder of the need to do this is my daughter. She just throws herself into something, even if she feels tentative about it, and you can tell that she is enjoying herself. So, next time you try to talk yourself out of enjoying an aspect of life, JUST DO IT, DO IT JUST FOR THE FUN OF IT. It is worth it, guilt free, and necessary for a healthy life.

The love of a child.

2008-02-13T09:23:00.001-08:00

I have a daughter, who is ten, and if you are a parent, you know that ten is MUCH older than nine. Seriously. Double digits, fourth grade, independence looming, whatever it is, it is WAY different. But the love feels the same. Our daughter is a total miracle, I mean, what else could she be being born to two moms? From the moment that she was thought of, she was loved beyond compare. From feeling her moving around in my tummy, to seeing her moments after her arrival on this earth, to watching her walking, talking, running- for the first time. To wiping away the tears, crying with her, cheering her on, feeling her despair, all of it is love of a child, love for a child.

There are moments when I can absolutely hardly believe how amazing I think that she is. How smart that she is, how creative, loving, selfless. However, it is when she looks into my eyes, or grabs my hand, that I feel that love that she has for me. Her heart is overflowing, and I feel it run from her to me, heart to heart. When we are walking in public, and even though it isn't cool to do so, she grabs my hand all of a sudden, and walks with me. When I am just barely asleep, and she tucks me in with my stuffed animal. When I tell her "I love you", and she says back to me immediately, "I love you more"; it absolutely sends me into orbit.

Without her, I would be dust. With her, I am over the moon.

Good versus Evil

2008-01-23T11:00:00.000-08:00

Heath Ledger died yesterday. For those of you that do not know who he is, he played Ennis DelMar in the movie "Brokeback Mountain". He moved me to a sobbing mess each time I have watched that film. It was a stunning performance. His death is tragic enough- 28, father, gifted actor, family support, good hearted guy.

Then, if his death weren't enough of a loss, Fred Phelps and the Westboro Baptist Church have decided that since he played a gay character in a movie, then he depicted and encouraged a way of life that is an abomination. So, according to Mr. Phelps, Heath has not only found his place in Hell as of today, but he and his followers will be picketing at Heath's funeral, holding up I assume some glorious signs such as "God hates fags", and "Pervert". As if his family won't be tortured enough. This is the same man, Mr. Phelps that is, a man of God supposedly, who carries these same signs at the funerals of individuals that he believes may have been gay, including Matthew Shepherd. He also presents his group at the funerals of soldiers who have died in Iraq, because any soldier who dies for a country that supports homosexuality should be doomed to hell.

Huh??? I just don't get some people. Mr. Phelps believes that we as gays and lesbians are so henious, so evil, that he believes he is justified in saying such awful things after a loved one has passed on. And, at the same time, declares he is doing it in the name of God. Are you serious? I mean, I believe in God, I believe in the presence of Jesus in my life, I believe in all the beauty and awe that surrounds me as being outside of my control, yet I am gay. Could I be that loved that God made me exactly as I am? I know that often this derogatory message that he carries is met with anger and resentment, because he portrays God as vengeful, angry, almost hateful in his manner toward his followers. Even when I know that I make mistakes, even when I seek forgiveness, I never believe that God wants to belittle, shame, or punish me. I know that I am a good person. I know that I am not evil. I am not even sure how prevalent evil is in our world. Until Fred Phelps comes along. Then I wonder.......

Meeting needs aren't mutually exclusive, are they?

2008-01-18T12:11:00.000-08:00

I am a dreamer. Always have been. At times, the realist in me has taken over, and I have faced up to the real life drama that is unfolding in the moment. But, much of the time, I feel the need to aspire, be, do, MORE!!!! What I have figured out about myself is that, it is not that I need to work five jobs, or that I will never decide what I want to do for a career- it is that I want it to be big, really, big, and really see the impact on those that I help, educate and serve.

But, is it possible for two persons in a relationship to BOTH have what they BOTH want, as individuals? Is there room in an intimate, partnered relationship for more than one person's dream? Or is it that only one can be pursued at a time, and the other sacrifices willingly, until it is his/her turn? I never really thought it worked that way. Again, remember, I AM A DREAMER. In addition, I BELIEVE THE REALIZATION OF DREAMS IS POSSIBLE, NOT ONLY POSSIBLE, BUT NECESSARY TO STAY WITH THE VITALITY OF LIFE. We need to not only dream what we want, but understand that those dreams can become our life, our days, our unfolding joy. I do believe, I do believe. And, I do believe that both persons in a relationship can have that for themselves at the same time. And, the corny, crazy part about it for me is, I want her to have her dreams, goals and desires. I want us both to have them, and all the more intense and joyful our future will be if we do. My desire to have it for myself is not so that I can have it for myself without her right beside me- been there, done that. I want us to walk the path together, doing what we love as a couple, and as two powerful, courageous, beautiful women as well. When you love yourself that much, to go after your dream, I think it becomes less about sacrifice and more about just the way things ought to be.

DREAMER, you say?? You bet your life. And I would have it no other way........

life, love, reflection, and no going back......

2008-01-08T17:09:00.000-08:00

what a year it has been! I mean, leaving the love of my life, soul searching, looking for meaning, trying to connect, to be, to figure it all out. Then, reuniting with that same person I am so meant to be with!!! I feel like I just got off the roller coaster after riding ten times in a row! But this is a new year, a new year with joy and promise and hope and tons of redemption. You see, I have finally forgiven myself. Not that I needed to do that, but for some foolish reason, i thought I had to forgive myself for leaving in the first place. I have realized that it isn't so. I don't need forgiveness, even to myself. I left because the love was lost, and now, the love has been found again, by both of us. So, we begin anew. No regrets. No resentments. A fresh start, a clean slate, a chance to do it from today forward, with a new perspective, and a greater respect for one another and the relationship. My life is so blessed, so vast and great of a journey, that I cannot help but enjoy it and find adventure in each day of it!! No looking back, no wondering about what ifs, just going forward into days and weeks and months of newness and love and connection and support and respect and joy, pure joy.

I have had several persons ask me if splitting up is what saved our relationship. To me, that is oversimplistic, and trite in some way. I don't know that we had to split up to survive, but I think that it allowed us to explore and to better understand what we needed to do to keep it working, and keep communicating with one another. For I firmly believe that we will grow old together, be there for one another, send our daughter off into her life, and still be holding hands and basking in the joy of our love, for all eternity..........

Embrace the joy!!!!!

2007-07-25T13:11:00.000-07:00

Today, this is my ode to joy. I can't guarantee that I won't break into song as I write it, but it is not THAT kind of "Ode to Joy". It is my tribute to that feeling of pure being, pure love and connection and beauty, that I would call JOY.

I have been contemplating many, many things today. My reuniting with my love, a new job on the horizon, moving back into our home that we shared for years. And, most recently, facing some health issues that could be serious. Yet, my word and thought and feeling for today is JOY!

You see, no matter what challenge I face, no matter how dire it appears, no matter how frightened I may be, I feel pure joy and presence in my life as it is. I am grateful, humble, overwhelmed, connected, and loved. I am so appreciative of all of the gifts in my life, in the forms of humans, animals, nature, feelings, intellect, and spirit. I feel like my soul is constantly alive with the introduction of new and exciting experiences. I trust that no matter what I will face in this life, I will be strong and supported enough to endure it, to survive it, to handle it, to embrace and savor it. JOY.

There are, of course, moments of my life that I recollect in my memory that are more joyful than others, by far. The birth of our daughter. The recent marriage of my sister. My college graduation. Falling in love with Jamie. However, they may be the highlights, but are by far not the only moments of joy in my life. Life, to me, is one, eternal, joyful ride.

I read on a friend's blog today, about drinking champagne punch, any ol' time. Not drinking champagne just for those extra special moments, not waiting until a formal occasion to dress up, to dance, to celebrate. The joy of our lives is NOW, HERE, TODAY. Please, please, I say to all of you, JUMP ON AND DON'T MISS IT!!!!!!!!!

Have respect for the lessons

2007-06-15T06:28:00.000-07:00

In the last few months, in the last year even, I have tried, and sometimes been successful, in trying to understand the meaning of some of the lessons that I have had before me. Many of those lessons were painful ones, and, possibly like many of you that read my crazy kind of blog, I often seem to need to learn my lessons in life the hard way. And, often, it takes several times of facing the same challenge before I am good and ready to learn the lesson at hand.

There is no doubt that I have learned to fully let go in the last year, to not obsess over the reason for a lesson to come my way. Given time, and patience, I always came to know why the lesson was there. I also learned to become grateful for the lessons that were in front of me, even those that I was angry about, or hurt, or lost, or just plain old fed up. Eventually, I learned to become grateful for those lessons on loss, hurt, and pain. They always brought me good outcomes and information about myself and others.

I have learned a new aspect of lesson learning in my life. That is, the concept of having respect for the lessons. Not just being grateful, not just gaining an understanding of what the lessons mean. Not just trusting the process of what I am going through. But the actual lesson of respect at the immense nature of what I am learning. Being in awe of how beautiful the living of life is, and my role in that. The absolute stunning nature of the path that I am walking, of the scenery on that path.

I further believe, through the idea of respect, that I learn to have it more for myself as well. I mean, it has been one hell of a year. Probably one of the most challenging of my life so far, without sounding overdramatic. Respect for the darkness, respect for the light, respect for the strength I managed to bring up in the midst of illness, heartache, physical and emotional pain, goodbyes, and moves. Strength in the midst of new adventures, love, new people, new places, and pure joy and peace. Respect is about putting forth what an immense impact something, or someone has had on you. I respect this journey, this life, these lessons, so much. In gratitude, and respect, and awe, I express my blessings and joy in today, and all the todays yet to come.

Peace out......

Never, ever, say never!

2007-06-07T06:30:00.000-07:00

I remember when I was in my teens, and believe me, that was quite awhile ago...... Anyway, I remember reading articles about women listing all of the things that they said they would never do, and then, later in life, ended up doing them. I swore I would NEVER be one of those women, that there was surely some things that I would NEVER, EVER do. Like color my hair (what was I thinking? It is great to try new colors, especially if the colors cover the gray.....). What else? I would never smoke again after I stopped smoking ten years ago- WRONG!!! I would NEVER go to graduate school- I went and finished years ago. I have been thinking about this, and am really not sure why it was so important to say NEVER to certain things. What was I afraid of?

I am looking at the idea of never a little bit differently today. In my present state of mind, which seems to be pretty calm, clear, and coherent, I believe that to say NEVER to something, anything, is to limit the possibilities of your life. I doesn't mean that we have to take a no holds barred approach to our lives, that anything goes. But, if the word NEVER keeps us back from trying something new, healthy, or hopeful, we need to stop using it and living by it.

For me, I think the word never in my vocabulary, even in the last few months, has been used out of fear. Fear of what will happen if I do that particular thing, if I date that particular person, if I try again at that long term relationship. The word "never", at least for a time, kept me protected, so I didn't have to be vulnerable to all of the untidy details of life. Boy, I am SOOOOO glad that I was wrong about this word.

I really believed that I would NEVER, EVER, have a second chance at reconciling with my true love. WHY? Because I really believed that she would NEVER, EVER forgive me, or forget what had happened when I left her. I really believed that we could NEVER move forward from that hurt, even though I was hurt, too, I didn't know if we could walk a new, brighter path together. I was so wrong. If I had continued with that way of thinking, I would not have tried to reach out, be vulnerable, FACE MY FEARS. I have faced a lot of fears in my life, and I have to say some of the most daunting have had to do with saying I would NEVER do something, and then, putting on my courage and trying that very thing.

Do yourself a favor. NEVER say NEVER again. How free you will be!!!!!!!!!!!!

Do you hear nature speaking to you?

2007-05-31T06:44:00.000-07:00

I love nature. I love every aspect of nature, whether it is a running stream, a field of wildflowers, a family of bunnies living in my yard, planting flowers, or watching the first snowfall. There are dozens of other examples, but suffice it to say that I feel one with nature, connected to it in a very intimate, personal way. It could be my Native American roots that strengthen that bond. I have Native heritage on both sides of my family, and my identification with that specific part of my ethnicity could help to explain the closeness. I not only admire nature and all it involves, but I have great respect for it as well, and try to treat it as gently and lovingly as possible.

Today, I am actively contemplating what aspect of nature most speaks to me, one that is like a nagging voice in my head more often than any other. I feel a strong connection to bodies of water, and that which I feel most connected to emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually, is the ocean.

I have made vacations and day trips to the ocean since I was a small child growing up. I remember many family vacations, camping trips, and day trips, to Hampton Beach in New Hampshire, and to Cape Cod in Massachusetts. I remember standing in the sand as the waves broke over my feet on the beach, and how it appeared that I was moving, when I wasn't. I remember romping in the waves, riding them, getting knocked over, tasting salt in my mouth, my eyes and throat burning.

As an adult, I have made a pilgrimage to an ocean destination almost every year. Whether it be the North Carolina coast, where my parents rented a house for a week for ten years, or trips on vacation to Provincetown, Dennisport, or other Cape Cod destinations, or even areas in Delaware such as Rehoboth or Dewey beaches. I even visited the ocean last month in Florida, and got to romp in the Gulf of Mexico.

The ocean speaks to me when it roars, waves high and crashing loudly, knocking me over, surfing me to the shore, and reminding me of how mighty it is. The ocean speaks to me when it is calm, softly touching the sand, reflective and soothing. The ocean speaks to me with the sun and moon reflected in it, showing all that exists above it.

I remember when I was in my thirties, and my older brother died. I knew I needed to grieve, although his death had been imminent. I knew that my grief had to be observed in my own way, separate from my family, because of the level of denial that they had about his disease. I knew I had to go somewhere that would allow me to feel comfort, and also to feel the presence of his spirit. Without hesitation, I knew that I had to go to the ocean, somewhere, to connect. I travelled to the Jersey shore, I am not even sure where exactly. It was March, so it was cold and desolate there. The town was locked up tight. I walked out on the sand, stared at the wide vastness of it all, and spoke to the ocean, and listened to it speak back to me and give me comfort. I was there for only a few moments, but it brought part of my healing process that I so desperately needed.

Do you hear nature speaking to you? Is it whispering or shouting? Will you answer?

The power of healing

2007-05-21T08:00:00.000-07:00

I wasn't really sure what to title this segment of my ongoing life saga. But healing seems to be a pretty constant theme in my life recently. Healing of mine, healing of those around me. After so much pain and growth and tears and tearing apart of things, I think I was long overdue for some serious healing time.

One year ago, I made a decision that tore at the heart of my life at that time, by leaving my committed relationship with my partner. Believe me, it was not a decision that was made easily, or not after what was months of self-talk and thinking about it. It was the hardest decision I have ever had to make in my life. But necessary. Necessary or not, self-loving or not, it hurt like hell. It opened up a wound in me that I thought would never heal, for the rest of my life. Seriously. I had believed for so long, that we were for keeps, that we had what it takes to really make it and grow old together, without giving up, but I was pretty sure that she had given up, and I know that I had given up. I got tired, I didn't know what else to do, so I left it.

Each time in that year since I said those words of "it's over", I felt like I was healing a little bit. I made active choices about my work and my social time to try to create some healthy ways to get better, move forward, go in a positive direction. Yet, the wound remained open, and sore, and vulnerable. I did a lot, I was busy a lot, but never seemed to feel like it was really getting better as it should. The wound continued to be a slow healing one.

Today, I can see the progress of the healing. The wound finally feels like it is not so vulnerable that it stings, because it is still open. The skin is still new, and it still needs time and nursing, but it is much better than it has been. I finally feel like, I understand the purpose of this whole crazy, scary, painful last year of my life. I really believe that in order to come back to where I needed to be, I had to leave where I was. Which I did, and I ended back where I started from, but different. Same location, different attitude. For both of us. We have both healed enough to be able to walk forward in this together. I think that we have both learned how to nurse our own wounds, so that we can be fully whole with one another. That feels really good to me.

Lessons Learned

2007-05-10T07:40:00.000-07:00

Any American Idol fans out there? I really enjoy the show, although I don't have as much time as I used to for the show every week. But, I do remember the year that Carrie Underwood was the winner of idol. I liked her, but she wasn't my first choice. No doubt, she had the talent, but I wasn't sure of how genuine she seemed to be. I know, kinda weird, not that I know her personally or anything, but I have always believed that a person has to be genuine in their message, whether they have a talent for it or not, for it to be meaningful to me.

Anyhow, my daughter got her CD last year, Some Hearts. She enjoyed listening to it, and I really liked the song, "Jesus Take the Wheel", which still moves me when I listen to it. This morning, while taking my daily stroll around my campus here in Northeastern Pennsylvania, I decided to listen to her CD during my walk. I listened to "Jesus" this morning, with tears sitting in my eyes waiting to fall, because I woke up this morning afraid, afraid of what the future will bring, when I have reconnected with my true love, and I am so afraid of what I don't know that is yet to come. I needed to give in, turn it over, let go, let Jesus take the wheel. Trust. Then, after skipping over a couple of the tunes, I listened to another tune on the CD, this one called "Lessons Learned". It told my story completely. Of how grateful I am "for every break in my heart", of how hard it has been to get through some of the days, and nights, on this journey. Of how hard it is to think of those lives that I have hurt in the process, so hard to believe that it was all meaningful in some way. "Some pages turned, some bridges burned, but there were lessons learned." And this is it completely for me. In all of the lessons that the last year of my life has brought me, or that I have brought to myself, I have had to let go of many things, ideas, habits, and behaviors. Ones that are ready to be burned. I won't have to go back that way again. There are also things that are in a previous chapter of my life, and although I am turning the page, they are always there as part of my history, as part of who I am and who I have become. And, the lessons learned are literally countless. Lessons that often take me several tries, but are now permanently etched into my being.

Rock on Carrie, and thank you. You put it all together for me.

Second chances

2007-05-03T10:04:00.000-07:00

Is there such a thing as second chances in life? I firmly believe that there is. Second chances on career, on having a family, on being healthy and happy. We may not always notice, or takes ourselves up on the second chances that come our way, but I think they are almost always there. What about second chances on love, real love? I believe that it can be- again.

I spent ten years with the love of my life. We built an existence together, and also had a child to share in that. Over the years however, it seemed like the love was slowly drifting away, that we were growing apart. I never stopped wanting the pure love that I knew we were capable of, but it seemed to be gone, and there seemed to be little hope of reviving it.

So, after much anguish and pain, I left. I left the life, I left her, I said no more, because the absolute emptiness of it felt too great. I tried to create a life on my own, and actually, got strong in my own right again. Connected with friends, new job opportunities, focus on spirit and health, but still something was sorely missing. Even though I tried to get on with my life, and in many ways I did, I missed her terribly. I dreaded our strained, difficult conversations about shared parenthood and not much else. I missed my lover and my best friend. I hadn't ever stopped loving her, I just thought we stopped working at the stuff that couples are made of.

We have been shown, and are taking, a second chance at love with one another. We have opened the door together, and we are walking through together, with mutual respect, both willing to work hard at communicating, compromising, and allowing for individuality with both of us. We have a lot of work ahead of us, but I am so grateful to God and the universe for this path, because it brought us right back to one another, better than ever before.

Saying goodbye to a beloved friend

2007-04-30T08:18:00.000-07:00

I have a full, sincere enjoyment of the written word, both by reading it and creating it. When I first came to college, as a student, to the same institution for which I now work, I was eager and excited to be here. I was ready for almost anything that would come my way. I was not ready, however, to feel transformed in the first semester that I was here, by an instructor named Barbara Hoffman.

Barbara was my instructor for Writing Skills. She came to our first class session, dressed in her clown outfit, full face makeup and all, and proceeded to pull items out a trunk, to symbolize the various aspects/details we needed within ourselves to be outstanding creative writers. She pulled out a bottle of champagne at the end, popped it open, and we all celebrated this new, exciting adventure together.

In the months that followed that semester, I wrote about things such as Hershey's kisses, and Elton John's closet. I studied every detail of an experience, every allowance that my imagination would offer to me, and put it to paper. Every paper that we wrote in class was returned to us, full of comments in every open white section of the paper, about what was great, and what could make our writing even better. I learned more about myself and my creative writing ability in those few short months than I ever thought possible.

Barbara died yesterday. She was preparing to retire from here in a couple of weeks, and to travel to faraway places. I found out while sitting with a friend, who encountered her twenty five years after I had, but our experiences with her were much the same. An impact that lasts a lifetime.

I guess she is travelling after all. Be free with that wonderous spirit of yours Barbara. Enjoy every moment, as you always have. I will NEVER, EVER forget you and your impact on my life.

Remember that love means FREEDOM.

2007-04-27T08:29:00.000-07:00

How many of us have ever said to the partner/person in our lives "If you loved me, you would....."? I know I have said it, probably more than a couple of times. Like, by having some contractual agreement for you to do what I want you to do, that will prove your unending love for me? Besides the fact that it is controlling and constraining, making those types of demands on another person just doesn't work. I don't know that it ever brings results that are lasting, let alone healthy.

What is does speak to is our own desperate need for love, to be acknowledged, cared for, nurtured, embraced, appreciated, adored. I crave that as much as the next person. But one part of my self-discovery that seems a little less pleasant to deal with about myself, is that I believe the desire, and then at times, the demand for that from another person, is a subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, form of controlling the other person to give you what you want.

What is the worst thing that would happen if I let my partner just be who she is meant to be? If I allowed her to make her own choices, do her own thing, and loved her because of that? I don't think it would be a "worst thing" scenario, I am coming to realize and accept. I think, the BEST thing that could come of that freedom, given to myself and my partner, is that, by having that freedom, each of us never stop being our individual selves, while sharing this cool journey together. We both have uniqueness and flair and energy to bring to the couplehood, always some new aspect to discuss, always something new to discover and explore about the other. It keeps the mystery, the passion, the independence. It leaves less room to resent, to compete, to become too intertwined, to lose our personal identity.

"Love that restrains isn't love. It's insecurity. We may tell others how we feel about something that they do or don't do. We may make decisions as a reaction to other's choices. That is our right and our responsibility. But to restrain another in the name of love doesn't create love; it creates restraint." Melody Beattie

Love, by nature, is a concept that I visualize as open, free, flying, on the breeze. I want to continue to capture it as that, so I need to love something, or someone, by setting it free. Not to have it be mine, but to have it be what it is meant to be.

Our Passion for Justice, by Carter Heyward

2007-04-24T08:13:00.000-07:00

"Love, like truth and beauty, is concrete. Love is not fundamentally a sweet feeling; not, at heart, a matter of sentiment, attachment, or being 'drawn toward'. Love is active, effective, a matter of making reciprocal and mutually beneficial relation with one's friends and enemies. Love creates righteousness, or justice, here on earth. To make love is to make justice. As advocates and activists for justice know, loving involves struggle, resistance, risk. People working today on behalf on women, blacks, lesbians and gay men, the aging, the poor in this country and elsewhere know that making justice is not a warm, fuzzy experience. I think also that sexual lovers and good friends know that the most compelling relationships demand hard work, patience, and a willingness to endure tensions and anxiety in creating mutually empowering bonds.

For this reason loving involves commitment. We are not automatic lovers of self, others, world, or God. Love does not just happen. We are not love machines, puppets on the strings of a deity called 'love'. Love is a choice- not simply, or necessarily, a rational choice, but rather a willingness to be present to others without pretense or guile. Love is a conversion to humanity- a willingness to participate with others in the healing of a broken world and broken lives. Love is the choice to experience life as a member of the human family, a partner in the dance of life, rather than as an alien in the world or as a deity above the world, aloof and apart from human flesh."

This above writing has been assisting me in redefining love for myself in my world. I never doubted that love is full commitment, but where I take pause is in the idea that love does not just happen. It requires tasks and duties that keep it alive and nurtured. It is represented by so many acts that we perform daily with and for the ones that we love the most. However, with romantic love, this gets lost so often, even on a lover like me. I get so stuck in the need to be verbally, symbolically reminded of the romantic, full heart love feeling, that I neglect to see the love that is expressed in all the tasks, duties, daily little rituals that occur. I understand that those are expressions of love, but those expressions are often not enough for me. I need to hear the words, see the look, feel the power from my lovers' arms. There has to be a balance in there somewhere. I just need to find it.

Fear shows its face, and it aint so bad......

2007-04-23T10:33:00.000-07:00

FEAR. I even dislike the word. I have been afraid of fear, in a sense. Impossible? I think not. I have always, I really think I mean ALWAYS, been unafraid of fear. I have, most of my adult life, at least, believed that courage is not the absence of fear, but rather going on in spite of our fears. I have believed in my own level of courage, of strength, of perseverance, but never really stopped to consider what those fears were that I went on in spite of. I know that for much of my adult life, I have convinced myself that I had no fears about anything much at all. Besides airplanes, and snakes, and some other nagging fears of things outside of myself that I quiver about when confronted with either one. But, the kind of fear that I am talking about here, the one that I have had the hardest time naming and taming, is one that lurks within me, is a fear related to a belief system that I possess, a goal or dream I have for myself, the unknown at times.

I realized, probably only a few days ago, actually, that I am not just afraid, but terrified. But, realizing this was really little comfort to me, because even though I was willing to take that first step, in acknowledging my fear, I still needed to name it, label what it was that I was specifically afraid of. And, what I came up with was relieving as well as upsetting, because I realized how long I had denied a fear that is very real for me, very normal, and able to be faced and dealt with slowly and gently.

I am TERRIFIED of being forgotten, of not being memorable. Okay, without sounding too dramatic, I really mean it. I was trying to figure out why it is that when I like spending time with someone, whether as a friend, or me wanting something more, that I obsessively call, text, drop by, to acknowledge my presence to her. WHY do I do this? I do it every time I meet someone new that I really like. I cried on it and thought on it for hours, days, last week. And that is my answer to myself. If I call or text that person, frequently, it will be almost impossible for her to forget me. That is my total fear. I even do it with persons that have been in my life in the past. Even if our parting was not good, even if we have not been friends for years, I feel the need to recollect myself to them, if I have a way to contact them. I DO NOT WANT TO BE FORGOTTEN.

My other fear was even a bit harder to admit. Since I have been single in the last year, I have noticed that I view almost every lesbian I meet as a potential mate. I have done this most of my adult life. Maybe others do it too, I don't know. But, it seriously interferes with making new friends, and just viewing people in a objective light. It also keeps leading me to think that I need to be actively looking for a partner, because the moment that I stop looking for her, she will walk by me in the street and our opportunity will have been missed. I don't think this is a fear of being alone, it is more of a fear of missed opportunity, to not answering the call of fate when it is at the door. I DO NOT WANT TO MISS THAT PERSON THAT IS MEANT FOR ME.

So, what to do? One thing that I am not doing, is beating myself up emotionally for these fears. When I really started to explore this stuff, I actually felt some huge relief at starting to figure it all out. And, believe me, some days, it is certainly not as neat and tidy as it might appear on the page, at least not in my mind and heart. But, I feel like I have taken a step, discovered a clue, that can lead me in a direction that I literally haven't gone in yet. It is really the most free, in my spirit, than I have ever felt. Free to be, free to face life head on and not crack up. FREE......

Letting go and letting God, once and for all.

2007-04-20T08:11:00.000-07:00

I have such a hard time with one particular lesson in my life, usually in regard to my most personal, intimate relationships. That is in the aspect of letting go. By trade, and personality, I am a helper. I want to assist others, ease their pain, dress their wounds, and heal their hearts. I have almost always felt a sense of satisfaction, gratification, and almost self-worth in my ability to help them in ways that they have been unable, or unwilling, to help themselves. So, logically, I have taken on a career in the helping profession, counseling and assisting those that seem most vulnerable and in need of help, usually meaning children and families.

Now, I know that this is in the very fiber of my being, the need to help others. I am not faulting myself or giving myself a hard time for considering that as an important focus for my life. I mean, as human beings, I think that we are called to serve and to assist one another, especially those most in need of our help. The trouble for me has become trying to be the helper in every segment of my life. I hold onto the helper in me, desperately and hopelessly, in the situations when I need to let the person help herself the most- my personal relationships.

I have always seen myself as a person who trusts fully when I am in a relationship with someone, almost blindly at times. However, I always seem to find myself with persons who have a difficult time trusting, who are struggling with trying to discover who they are (but in reality, aren't we all at times?), persons that in hindsight are intrinsically unhappy with their being. So, what better way to prove my love, concern, absolute regard for them, then to save the love of my life from herself? Show her the guiding light, the way to absolute happiness? There is always a willingness, at least at first, for my guidance to be accepted, for my nurturing to feel good to her, for her to "try on" what has worked for me, and try it for herself. But, we always seem to go down a darker, less selfless road. She ends up feeling resentful, at my insistence on doing and controlling aspects of the relationship, and I end up feeling unappreciated for giving up all of my self, for her to develop her self. What a mess. And no where near where I need to be in terms of letting go. I read an affirmation on Letting Go every day, my copy of the book is so worn out the binding is broken, almost every page has highlights or writings in the margins, I have read and read and read it. Today is the day I actively use what I have read.

What I am now, finally, thank God, understanding, and more importantly, ACCEPTING, is that letting go is an issue of trust. Who, me? I trust everyone, I trust anyone, I tell everybody my life story if they are willing to listen. But, what I am really doing is giving myself away, I think in some desperate attempt to make myself indisposable to that certain someone. Then, they have all of me and I have none. In all of these years, the one that I have been afraid to trust is God, that he would care for me always, and that caring for me doesn't mean telling me everything as it is to happen. Trust in God, for me, means that I COMPLETELY let go, I completely allow him to guide my life, based on my own healthy choices. I am totally scared of doing that. I want to be in control, I obsess about control, I need to be in control. But, I am not. No matter what I choose from day to day, He holds the cards. Today, I need to begin to remember that, and trust that it is all for the good.

The lessons of today......

2007-04-19T10:12:00.000-07:00

I love to read affirmations, touchy-feely versions of what life has in store for me on any given day. And, actually, what happens on many days, is that the timeliness of what I read is directly related to what is going on in my life at the time. I guess that is the Universe speaking to me, sometimes in a whisper, sometimes in a screaming mimi kind of bellow. Which ever of those, it does reach me, and I always understand the language it is spoken in. The human language, which gets me right in the heart and soul every single time.

Today's life lesson is about old emotional baggage. I have a close friend in my life, who believes that I torture myself with sad, lonely emotions when I feel them, and if I stayed more in the moment, and stopped obsessing about wanting something I can't have right now, I would feel better. I beg to differ. I believe, that every little detail of emotion that I experience at any given time, is there for a purpose. And, for today, Melody Beattie agrees. I love her for that. I am almost always a happy, upbeat person. And, that is not just for appearances' sake. I really feel happy, to the core of my being, the majority of the time. But, when life throws me a curve, even when I am willingly in the ball game, I fall, I eat dirt, I choke. I feel small, helpless, and sadder than I think I can ever possibly feel. Melody tells me today in her book of affirmations, that sometimes our emotions take us out of the present moment of our lives. A feeling from our past comes creeping back up, that we have kept hidden away for a time. Instead of that being us getting off track, she believes that it is a doorway to healing. And I absolutely agree. Because, do you know what I realized in the midst of this raw, painful emotion? Is that, every time in my life when I am needing to fully let go of something, or someone, it hurts so badly that I think I could just about disappear. Then, I do let go, of the rope, the branch, the obsession. And, when I did that this time, I actually felt better. It was as if the cut started to heal almost immediately, I felt relief, and strength, and my glimmer of hope came back.

When those lessons are occurring, I despise them, because of the pain it brings. In the light of the new day, I am grateful for those lessons. Grateful to see the sun again, and grateful to be even stronger for my next challenge.