tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17593663606454301872024-03-12T22:29:00.212-05:00Save This MGMy journey in the restoration process for my 65 MG Midget is over. I sold her. But, that doesn't diminish the lessons I learned and am still learning.Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.comBlogger209125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-43938482387090472302018-10-07T09:07:00.001-05:002018-10-07T09:07:41.399-05:00AngerI see that the last post I made was in 2017 and it was about activist fatigue. Interesting that the first post in a long time is about activist anger.<br />
<br />
I'm angry.<br />
<br />
Angry that women aren't listened to. Angry that some men, especially those in power, seem to have this loathing for women. Angry that women haven't raised their sons to respect women. Angry that women roll over and show their bellies to men and some angry women. Angry that women seem to be okay with subservience, who don't believe that they are equal and should enjoy the same status in life, politics and business that men do.<br />
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I'm angry at the men who aren't listening. Angry that men aren't raising their sons to respect women. Angry that men expect women to roll over and show their bellies. Angry that men expect women to be subservient and don't believe that women are equal and should enjoy the same status in live, politics and business that men do.<br />
<br />
I'm angry and yes, the above statements are broad generalizations which we sometimes make when we're angry. Of course there are exceptions to all of the above. I know very good, kind-hearted men who do what they can to raise up women, who have worked hard to raise good, respectful sons, who work everyday to make sure they are setting good examples for the males in their lives. Unfortunately, their voices are being drowned out by the angry men who want to denigrate and humiliate women, who think it's perfectly acceptable for a boy to get puking drunk and try to rape a female.<br />
<br />
And of course there are many good, intelligent, strong women out there fighting the good fight against the angry men and women who are standing in opposition to every forward step we are trying to make.<br />
<br />
I'm angry and know that anger opens up the pathways in our brains that keep us from saying things we don't really mean or prevents us making clear, logical, well-reasoned statements about what we do think and feel.<br />
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It also gives us the freedom to say "fuck that" and just let the words flow.<br />
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Right now, in this moment.....FUCK THAT! To those who disregarded what a victim stated, especially the women....FUCK YOU! Anybody that doesn't know what a victim of sexual assault goes through when coming forward and telling their story has not paid attention and if you DO know and chose to ignore it, FUCK YOU even harder. I'm angry about that.<br />
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I imagine I'm not the only one that's angry and struggling with what to do next. I'd offer this...take a moment to BE angry. Feel it. Smell it. Taste it. Become friends with it. Anger isn't the enemy unless we let it control us. Anger can be a fuel that will sustain it...a fire. But, like any fire it as to be tended and controlled.<br />
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This is where we are. Rejoicing and dancing in the initial flames. Feeling the heat on our skins and seeing the reflection in our kindred sister's and brother's eyes.<br />
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Dance with it. Grab the light, feel the heat, my brothers and sisters, and use that to feed you, for the work we have in front of us is daunting, arduous and strenuous both physically, spiritually and emotionally but not impossible.<br />
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I'm angry but believe that change is coming, that good will prevail, that evil never lasts and is weak and cowardly when confronted.<br />
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I'm angry today. Tomorrow I will be calm and gear up for the fight that's coming. I hope you will join me.<br />
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Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-107814102891603712017-02-16T06:41:00.000-06:002017-02-16T06:41:18.497-06:00Activist FatigueLawd, I don't know about y'all but I'm feeling the burn of working my activist muscles. It feels like we're being bombarded from all sides with horribly hateful bills at a state level and just pure incompetence at the national level. The question I get over and over is, "What can I do to help? I just feel overwhelmed and don't know where to start."<br />
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I hear ya. Sometimes it's good to stand still for a minute and let your mind calm. Take a moment to evaluate where you are, the information you have and determine what you believe will have the most effect on your life and/or what you can affect the most in your life. I liken this political season to walking through a carnival. You are hammered by every carnival barker begging for your attention and the sound gets overwhelming. Before long, you hear nothing except the ringing in your ears. That's when you find someplace quiet.<br />
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Think. We have a totally incompetent ass in the White House and he's surrounded by cockroaches on every side. Maybe I should liken them to flies because flies eat shit and that's what these people are doing...feeding on Trump's shit. I digress. You have people in the state legislature who are taking this moment of seemingly triumph on their part to propose and pass bills that will hurt a lot of people in this state. Unnecessary bills. Discriminatory bills. Awful people doing awful things. Sometimes I think that if Mae Beavers had just one really good orgasm she'd turn into a different person. But who on earth would want to poke.........ugh. Sorry. I digressed.<br />
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We have people on our city council who (while not bad people) act out of ignorance and fear. We have people on the county commission (while not bad people....except for one bloviating, spittle--spewing, hate-filled, unhappy human who also desperately needs to have a orgasm--heyyy....maybe we could hook....dammit--I digressed AGAIN) who also act out of fear and ignorance. For them, we must make this personal. We must put a face to their actions and show who would suffer the consequences of their decisions. We must be out and active.<br />
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Yep, we're tired and I believe our legislators use that to their advantage. I heard a state legislator say that a strategy is to keep rolling bills because eventually the people will stop showing up. We can't let that happen but we also can't work ourselves to the point of activism fatigue. The is a marathon, not a sprint and we must treat it as such. We MUST keep showing up. We MUST continue to support the work of the people and organizations that are out there everyday putting a face to the consequences. We MUST help those who are shutting the press conferences down or challenging the lawmakers to answer our questions and we must persist until they do give those answers.<br />
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The fat lady hasn't sung. We are not finished. We will rise up everyday and tilt with each and every windmill that pops up in our path. We are smart, kind, caring, thinking, pissed off humans who have right on our side and right will carry this day but we have to keep putting one foot in front of the other and pick our battles carefully and strategically.<br />
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Hang in there. We got this.Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-58117234573735201332016-12-03T08:38:00.001-06:002016-12-03T19:11:41.750-06:00"God's" WillSay that fast enough and long enough and it begins to sound like godswill. Godswill. And that's exactly what I think all this nonsense about the election outcome being "God's will" is all about.<br />
<br />
As painful as this may be, this little soapbox dissertation is going to require that we talk about our--well, mine, anyway--idea of God. This vengeful, meddling being that many preachers and people talk about, I don't believe exists. That's a made-up human construct created to frighten people into submission so that weak, pathetic false "leaders" can control them. We use "God" in the same way we use Santa Claus. "If you don't do right, you won't get....." whatever that may be. "If you don't do what I say and what I say are "God's" words, then you won't...." what? Go to heaven? Be blessed?<br />
<br />
Da fuck? <br />
<br />
The "God" I believe in has one rule. Love your fellow human with the understanding that loving them means you take care of, honor, protect, communion with all of them regardless of their race, gender, orientation, hair style, height of the heels, cost of their clothing, value of their car, square footage of their house, their paycheck, savings account, taste in food and wine (though I might have some thoughts on that), hair color or how many children they have. In "God's" eyes, we are the human race.<br />
<br />
Say it...human....again....HUUUUman. "God", my god, has no concept of race or geography or ritual. "God" only conceives of humans. And so should we.<br />
<br />
Those people out there who are saying, "It's God's will" about whatever they saying it about are only trying to absolve themselves of the conscious choices they have made. Remember in the bible where it says that man was granted free will after that little episode in the garden of eden? Right, people, "God" said, "Fine, make your own damn decisions." But "God" didn't say there would be no consequences.<br />
<br />
If everything we did was "God's" will then we could go around doing whatever we wanted without fear of retribution or adverse reactions. "OH, yeah, I shot that dude but it was "God's" will." Bless you son, carry on because "God" knows all. And that thunderclap you just heard is "God" smacking its forehead. By the way, while we're in the paragraph, "God" isn't male or female or "God" can be either, depending on your personal belief system which makes "God" transgender. Let that sink in for a moment.<br />
<br />
Which leads me to this election. "God" had nothing to do with Trump getting elected. Bigoted, hate-filled, frightened humans had everything to do with it. Own it but don't you dare try to absolve your choices on the back of "God" and "God's" will. God is as heartbroken over what we are choosing to do to each other as any of the rest of us. Every time we say, "Send them back", "Ship them home", "Don't let them marry", "Hang the nigger", "Kill the bitch/witch", "No choice over their own bodies", we are talking about "God's" children. "God's" humans. <br />
<br />
As a reminder to you creationists, those are "God's" children. Your "Father's" children which makes them your siblings, your family member. Unless, of course, you think that "God" is out there having unprotected sex outside of marriage then, I suppose, those children are illegitimate. But that would mean "God" made a mistake...but....wait, "God" never makes a mistake right? You said so. You say it every time you say say, "It's "God's" will."<br />
<br />
Fuckers. Don't you dare try and wash away your guilt/sin/choice by calling "God's" will.<br />
<br />
Fuck...my head hurts. I guess that's "God's" will.Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-69318695077871783352015-02-11T09:04:00.001-06:002015-02-11T09:06:35.126-06:00My PeopleI lost two of my people very suddenly and very unexpectedly about 24 hours ago. When something like that happens, I always say, "Love your people." And you should. We all should because what happened just reinforces that you never know. Sometimes ends come quickly. Sometimes the end comes agonizingly slowly. I've had both.<br />
<br />
I reached out to a couple of folks to let them know that they're my people and I said, "Love your people." I was asked, "Who are my people?" I had to stop and think about that for a moment. How do you not know who your people are? And I'm not talking about your person. Everyone should know who their person is. Mine does. And I know exactly who mine is. But, to not know who your people are? That kinda took me aback.<br />
<br />
Your people are your friends, your family, whoever your people are, I said. Only you can decide that, I said. OK, she said. Huh. <br />
<br />
So, I started thinking about my people. You know, membership in that group changes from time to time. Sometimes they enter into that group for one specific purpose or "lesson" and when it's learned, they move on. Or are forced on, whatever the case may be. Many times, once you become a member of my people group, you're in for life whether you like it or not. And there are times when you won't. I'm not always an easy person to be a person for. I'm stubborn. I'm opinionated. I'm grumpy. I don't deal well with foolishness and nonsense and when that is dealt out to my people from others...well, I don't deal well with that either. Don't attack my people. But, I'm also fiercely loyal and demand that from my people. I am sometimes honest to a fault and expect that from others. Do whatever else you want to me but don't lie to me. We can debate lies by omission later.<br />
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Why are my people my people? Some make me laugh. Some make me think. Some I may only have contact with once every couple of years and some I have contact with everyday. My people are those whom I choose to listen to, not always talk to. Some find me pallets and gnomes and send me post cards and give me gifts even after I tell them not to. But they all like or love me no matter what. They don't always agree with me but how boring would life be if you only surrounded yourself with "yes" people. I like "no" people and "whatthefuckever" people and "fuck yeah" people. I like crazy and passionate and fun and committed people. <br />
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My circle of people--my large circle and my inner circle--complete me in some form or fashion. Some are the edge pieces and some are the ridiculously complicated inner pieces. They all fit around me. They make up the three dimensional complicated puzzle that is me.<br />
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I believe my people know who they are. I belive my people know I love them either through my words or actions and if you have a doubt, ask me.<br />
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Love your people, people because you never, ever know.Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-91202945555552347352014-11-28T08:14:00.001-06:002014-11-28T08:14:23.720-06:00A repost that I thought was appropriate.The original post was put up in 2012. Given the incidents of recent weeks, I felt it was somehow appropriate to reprint it. We need to take a moment everyday and really think about what goes on in other people's lives, become aware of their experiences and try to understand choices they make. The human experience is universal regardless of nationality, color, race, gender, age, orientation or ability. Compassion is human and divine and as soon as we all realize and believe that, things will change. I am learning patience with my children. I am learning patience with my fellow humans.<div>
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Reprinted unedited.</div>
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<a href="http://www.savethismg.blogspot.com/2013/05/i-felt-his-anguish.html" style="color: #6699cc; text-decoration: none;">I Felt His Anguish</a></h3>
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We were at dinner with friends for another friend's birthday. I saw them walk in, a mother, older, a son, maybe in his early 20's and a father. All seemed relatively normal so I didn't pay much attention. When we all walked in, the family was sitting at a table behind us and I heard the son say something along the lines of, "Girls!" I was then aware that his mental age was maybe 5, maybe 6.<br />What happened next had a startling affect on me. He began to act out a little. Like any child, he was hungry and when children get hungry they get aggitated. Those of us who have children have all experienced this. All you want is a cracker to shove in their mouths. A kingdom for a cracker.<br />He was hungry. He was a 5 year old in a 20 year old body that weighed 300lbs and he wanted a fucking cracker. He started his tantrum. It was a 5 year old's tantrum in a 20 year old's body. He began to cry and beg his parents not to make him leave because he was hungry and he would be good. All of this while pushing himself in his chair across the restaurant towards the back and all the while, his mother telling the people around them that they were trying to get him out.<br />A 5 year old, you can pick up and sling over your shoulder or your hip. Not a 20 year old, 300lb human with the mind of a 5 year old.<br />I felt his anguish. I felt how badly he wanted a cracker or his dinner. I felt his parents' anguish at having a son who isn't like other sons. Parents who tried to deal with him with calm and patience. Parents who have probably seen this behavior numerous times and who probably hope that this would be the last time but who probably know it won't. Parents who are trying to have a normal life and give their son a normal life but who know it's anything but normal. Parents who live with the stress everyday of not knowing how their son will behave next. Parents just trying to raise a child and give him a cracker.<br />I felt that to my soul and it hurt. I also heard and saw the reactions of the people around them. The staring. The whispering behind their hands. They were afraid and they were judging and THAT pissed me off. It made me angry and hurt for that family. A family who has a soul that chose them and chose to manifest as a child in an adult's body. A soul that mixed with many souls who were in that moment and all together for a reason. There was something to learn.<br />Sad thing is, most of those people staring and whispering have missed the lesson. Most didn't feel what I felt or those parents felt or that child felt. They were too wrapped up in having their dining experience messed up by a child who just wanted something to eat.<br />Most were probably thinking, "There but for the grace of God," and I'm thinking, "There by the grace of God." I realized that though there are times when we struggle with our children, our problems are not nearly as profound or hard as theirs. And while our boys are young with still developing male brains, they are not 5 year olds who only know that in that moment they wanted a fucking cracker. And we are parents who can still handle our boys. And for the most part, we can be confident that when we go out in public, we won't have an incident or episode that disrupts our evening and causes other ignorant people to talk behind their hands and whisper hurtful or judemental things about us. At least not for that reason.<br />I also realized that the love those parents have for their child is truly unconditional and I felt humbled because I haven't always been able to say that about my children. It had to be unconditional otherwise, why continue to put yourself in that situation? They just want a normal child. They don't have it. I'm sure they are doing the best they can and it's put me to shame. And it should have shamed everyone in that restaurant who has children or who was thinking of having children and who said, "There but for the grace of God," but should be saying, "There BY the grace of God."<br />I will find and carry that fucking cracker for my children and will remember that incident forever and will remember this lesson everytime I lose my patience with my children.</div>
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Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-31992937468136334012014-08-25T05:24:00.000-05:002014-08-25T05:24:53.472-05:00HmmI looked at the date of my last post and just said huh. It's not that I haven't had anything else to say in all that time because I have. It's just that there are easier outlets. Facebook. Twitter. Other blogs. And quite honestly, I just sometimes forget that I have this forum.<br />
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Writing is hard. It opens you up and makes you vulnerable. We all love the positive reinforcement but the negative...well, that's a kick in the pants. Sometimes. And sometimes it's good. It get the creativity going. It motivates.<br />
<br />
So, maybe I need to set a goal of updating once a week and give myself freedom to write about anything. Doesn't have to pulitzer prize material all the time.<br />
<br />
A constant source of entertainment is my job but I have to be very careful about what I write about there. Can't break any confidentialities. <br />
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So, not much happening here this morning. Stay tuned.Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-66551127607021403012013-11-26T09:40:00.000-06:002013-11-26T09:40:31.427-06:00CastoffsA few days ago, I noticed that there was a box of old toys sitting at the end of a driveway in our neighborhood. I'd passed several times and never really thought about what was in it until one day I had the realization that someone had made a conscious effort to go through a child's belongings and decide what should be discarded and what should be kept.<br />
<br />
Was it an effort to make room for the new things that would be coming wrapped gayly in shiny christmas themed paper sitting under an equally gayly decorated tree? <br />
<br />
Was it because said child needed more space in their room or was it because that same child had lost interest in these "old" toys and no longer loved or played with them? Was it just because?<br />
<br />
A few days later I noticed that several of the toys had been taken from the box. No doubt, the sidewalk gods had visited and pleased with the offereings, took them to a new home to a new child. New toys to play with. Quite probably a gift that would be wrapped gayly in shiny christmas themed paper sitting under an equally gayly decorated tree and opened by a child filling the room with squeals of delight and love for their new toy.<br />
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They would hug it and love it and pet it and name it...<br />
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Then I thought what life must be like for that child and those parents. To be in a place in life in which you must pull items from a trash pile, clean them up the best you can and offer them to your child for christmas must be disheartening. And for the child to know that this is not a new toy because there's no box or tag must pierce a heart just enough to bring a drop of blood.<br />
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To borrow a line from a song, "Love is the rock we throw ourselves against." Well, this is that parent's and that child's rock. Love picked that toy up. Love cleaned it up. Love will wrap it up and put it under that tree and love will light that child's face up and heal that pierced heart. <br />
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I'm not sad for them. It took greater fortitude to stop their vehicle, get out and rummage through that box risking derision and pity from those of us who might have seen them. It took courage. More courage than I have. That parent isn't driven by the latest and greatest item that Target or Toys R Us tells us we must have. They aren't spending the night in a line outside a store to purchase whatever the current craze might be. They are too busy dealing with life.<br />
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I believe that child will be just as happy with a used, castoff toy that their parent took the time to rescue and clean up for them. I believe that child will grow up understanding what giving is supposed to be about. <br />
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I wonder if the rest of us do. Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-84369052516309217522013-05-18T07:20:00.001-05:002013-05-18T07:20:32.301-05:00Milestones<p>My youngest graduates High School today. This is one of the major milestones in one's life and what a wild, twisting, winding, bumpy, pot-hole-filled road it's been. I will never EVER say that's it's been easy or without anguish, tears, angry words and total frustration because it has been. Getting a piece of coal to a diamond takes lots of heat and pressure and time. Good lord, I thought child-birth was hard.</p><p>As a parent, it is now our job to push him out of the next and you'd think that having already done so with our oldest, this would be a cakewalk. It's anything but. It scares the hell outta me. The oldest is in college and safely (mostly) ensconsed in the protective (mostly) confines of a dorm on campus. He's not out there having to face the cold, cruel world just yet. It's coming. But, the youngest is heading out to another state to work, to get paid, to manage money, to follow rules set by someone other than his parents. To survive and my mind spins in vicious circles asking and arguing with myself over whether we've fully prepared him for what's coming.</p><p>And I just don't know. I guess we won't know for years to come. I believe that we've done our best, that we've taken from our own experiences as young adults and tried to teach him or at least explain to him the possibilities-both good and bad-that are out there. Whether any of that has penetrated his still developing brain is anybody's guess.</p><p>I worry because when demon-spawn isn't standing in my kitchen, he's the kindest, most generous, most loving and trusting child I have and it scares me because that opens him to all sorts of people who will take advantage of him. I've already seen it in some of the people he calls friends. Friends of convienence. Friends who need a ride. Friends who need a coke. Friends who need a sandwich. Friends who need and rarely give back. It breaks my heart.</p><p>My oldest's soul is like memphis bbq. His flame burns low and slow. My youngest is a Thai wok. His flame burns hot, bright and fast and it consumes a lot of energy and resources. He has a mind that is on super sonic speed all the time and it's exhausting just trying to keep with, much less stay ahead of him all the time.</p><p>Both boys' souls were brought to us for a reason. Their souls have been surrounded by this group of souls for a reason. Some souls have moved in and out of the group and those that have come back, have come back for a reason. I know that ALL of the souls in this circle have lessons to be learned from this group. Our job is to figure out what they are and evolve from them.</p><p>I have found strength in many of the people traveling in this circle of souls. Sometimes in the most unlikliest of people and I've also found judgement. None, though, have judged me more harshly than I have myself. I suppose all parents go through this and I suppose I'm not different than any other parent, it's just that in this moment, I feel like I'm the only parent out there with a child about to walk out into the cold, cruel world.</p><p>Balderdash</p>Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-46360939152618615762013-05-11T06:27:00.001-05:002013-11-26T09:45:32.731-06:00I Felt His AnguishWe were at dinner with friends for another friend's birthday. I saw them walk in, a mother, older, a son, maybe in his early 20's and a father. All seemed relatively normal so I didn't pay much attention. When we all walked in, the family was sitting at a table behind us and I heard the son say something along the lines of, "Girls!" I was then aware that his mental age was maybe 5, maybe 6. <br />
What happened next had a startling affect on me. He began to act out a little. Like any child, he was hungry and when children get hungry they get aggitated. Those of us who have children have all experienced this. All you want is a cracker to shove in their mouths. A kingdom for a cracker.<br />
He was hungry. He was a 5 year old in a 20 year old body that weighed 300lbs and he wanted a fucking cracker. He started his tantrum. It was a 5 year old's tantrum in a 20 year old's body. He began to cry and beg his parents not to make him leave because he was hungry and he would be good. All of this while pushing himself in his chair across the restaurant towards the back and all the while, his mother telling the people around them that they were trying to get him out.<br />
A 5 year old, you can pick up and sling over your shoulder or your hip. Not a 20 year old, 300lb human with the mind of a 5 year old. <br />
I felt his anguish. I felt how badly he wanted a cracker or his dinner. I felt his parents' anguish at having a son who isn't like other sons. Parents who tried to deal with him with calm and patience. Parents who have probably seen this behavior numerous times and who probably hope that this would be the last time but who probably know it won't. Parents who are trying to have a normal life and give their son a normal life but who know it's anything but normal. Parents who live with the stress everyday of not knowing how their son will behave next. Parents just trying to raise a child and give him a cracker.<br />
I felt that to my soul and it hurt. I also heard and saw the reactions of the people around them. The staring. The whispering behind their hands. They were afraid and they were judging and THAT pissed me off. It made me angry and hurt for that family. A family who has a soul that chose them and chose to manifest as a child in an adult's body. A soul that mixed with many souls who were in that moment and all together for a reason. There was something to learn.<br />
Sad thing is, most of those people staring and whispering have missed the lesson. Most didn't feel what I felt or those parents felt or that child felt. They were too wrapped up in having their dining experience messed up by a child who just wanted something to eat. <br />
Most were probably thinking, "There but for the grace of God," and I'm thinking, "There by the grace of God." I realized that though there are times when we struggle with our children, our problems are not nearly as profound or hard as theirs. And while our boys are young with still developing male brains, they are not 5 year olds who only know that in that moment they wanted a fucking cracker. And we are parents who can still handle our boys. And for the most part, we can be confident that when we go out in public, we won't have an incident or episode that disrupts our evening and causes other ignorant people to talk behind their hands and whisper hurtful or judemental things about us. At least not for that reason.<br />
I also realized that the love those parents have for their child is truly unconditional and I felt humbled because I haven't always been able to say that about my children. It had to be unconditional otherwise, why continue to put yourself in that situation? They just want a normal child. They don't have it. I'm sure they are doing the best they can and it's put me to shame. And it should have shamed everyone in that restaurant who has children or who was thinking of having children and who said, "There but for the grace of God," but should be saying, "There BY the grace of God."<br />
I will find and carry that fucking cracker for my children and will remember that incident forever and will remember this lesson everytime I lose my patience with my children.Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-22430363544137960162013-02-20T05:36:00.001-06:002013-02-20T05:36:06.337-06:00The Things You Find<p><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'comic sans ms'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; background-color: #ffffff;">So, I'm cleaning up the back yard which includes scooping Abbey's (the lab puppy) poop. Now, for most people, that would be an unremarkable thing because for most people, dog poop would be just dog poop.</span><br style="font-family: 'comic sans ms'; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; background-color: #ffffff;" /><br style="font-family: 'comic sans ms'; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; background-color: #ffffff;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'comic sans ms'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; background-color: #ffffff;">Not on Maury street and not in our back yard. It's an adventure. Today, I found a piece of RCA universal remote, numerous pieces of a blue, silicone supposedly indestructible chew toy, about 8' of multicolored yarn, a pile of poop that only had enough poop in it to bind together the 2 lbs of various pieces of fabric from what I can only assume were once stuffed animal chew toys and the lid from a small plastic bottle that once contained my test strips.</span><br style="font-family: 'comic sans ms'; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; background-color: #ffffff;" /><br style="font-family: 'comic sans ms'; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; background-color: #ffffff;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'comic sans ms'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; background-color: #ffffff;">She's also very fond of pooping in the monkey grass and vinca major and one can only assume she does that to hide her poop from us so that we can't see how much crap is IN her poop.</span><br style="font-family: 'comic sans ms'; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; background-color: #ffffff;" /><br style="font-family: 'comic sans ms'; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; background-color: #ffffff;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'comic sans ms'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; background-color: #ffffff;">Clever girl.</span></p>Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-43747314961138865662013-02-20T05:35:00.001-06:002013-02-20T05:35:11.157-06:00BREAKING NEWS<p><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'comic sans ms'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; background-color: #ffffff;">BREAKING NEWS: This just in....A rodent aka flying squirrel aka sugar baby was released from her kidnappers and torturers aka "those damn cats" and one eager bouncy lab puppy this morning at approximately 4:32AM. The victim was found confined in the bathroom and hiding in the shirts belonging to one human known as Ginger Leonard. According to records, those shirts were hanging on the back of the linen closet door. The human, clad only in a t shirt, was able to scatter the cats and control the lab puppy long enough to cradle the frightened rodent in a wadded up towel then release said rodent in the front yard. The hostage crisis ended peacefully and the rodent was said to flick her tail in appreciation towards the human hero. </span><br style="font-family: 'comic sans ms'; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; background-color: #ffffff;" /><br style="font-family: 'comic sans ms'; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; background-color: #ffffff;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'comic sans ms'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; background-color: #ffffff;">-endit-</span></p>Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-34593134600775548492012-12-25T07:43:00.001-06:002012-12-25T07:43:28.303-06:00Christmas Day 2012<p><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', times;">It's Christmas day. The oldest just walked through the living room in a stupor headed for the bathroom then returned to his room and went back to bed. I'm not sure he's even conscious. I'm not sure I am.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', times;">What happened to the day when the boys couldn't wait to get up and see what Santa had brought them? What happened to the day when I couldn't wait FOR them to get up and see what Santa had brought them? Right, that sort of died when they found out who Santa really was. The glitter fell off of the day. The shine left and now, it's not much more than a regular day.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', times;">At least that's what this one feels like. Of course, we've never really made a huge deal out of it probably because until this year, Hannukah was a big deal, but even this year that was just a blip.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', times;">I'm not sure why. Maybe because there's been death and loss and heartache for much of the year. Maybe because we said goodbye to good friends and family. Maybe because child-like left this house. Maybe...maybe....maybe....</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', times;">I remember when I found out who Santa was and I was crushed. It felt like I was forced to grow up and leave child-like behind. There have been many other events in my life that has forced me to leave child-like behind and I'm discovering that I have some resentments about that. I know--I know--resentments are poison. I'm working to identify and release them. There was a photo on facebook that read something to the effect of forgive and release. That's my new year's resolution but don't get me started about those. That's an entirely different post.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', times;">Christmas is a big deal, or at least it should be. Not because of the material things that come along with it. That's a product of brilliant marketing and greed. It should be a big deal because of the emotions and sentiment that comes with it, the traditions that many of us have created and fostered over the years, because it brings the child-like back. It should be a big deal because of what it puts into our hearts. It should be a bigger deal because it should reinforce that what we feel around this season should be felt and practiced all year. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', times;">Why do we hold one day out to give a gift? To express our feelings for one another? Why is it safe for only one day to do this? Why have we set ourselves up like this? Why have we made one day to either elate us or set ourselves up for a grand disappointment? </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', times;">Maybe this day should be just like any other day.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', times;">Or maybe, just maybe, all the Who's down in Whoville, all the creatures big and small, should make every day just like this one special day.</span></p>Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-66861681192307794112012-12-15T15:12:00.001-06:002012-12-15T15:12:50.441-06:00Girls Who Drive Pickup Trucks<p>I love 'em. There's just something about a girl who drives a pickup truck. She has attitude. She has a swagger--some bigger than others. In a former life, she probably rode bulls and in this life probably rides figurative bulls.</p><p>A girl who drives a truck gets looked at. Some people are thinking, "What the hell?' and others are thinking, "Wow." Some are thinking, "what a weirdo," and some are thinking, "holy hell, she's doable." Some avoid girls who drive trucks and some go out seeking them.</p><p>Whatever the case, girls who drive trucks get noticed.</p><p>I drive a truck. It's a truck that suits me and represents me. She's bossy and comes down the road sprinkling attitude everywhere she goes. She has blemishes and externally looks like hell chewed her up and spit her out but she is a monster workhorse when it counts. So do I.</p><p>I have attitude when I drive her. I feel strong. I notice people noticing and just don't give a shit. I drive a truck. I drive that truck for a reason, because THAT truck doesn't look like any other truck on the road. Because THAT truck gets cranky when I get cranky and gets quiet when I get quiet. Because THAT truck will pull and push and drag and carry and haul and work when I need her to work. So do I.</p><p>I love my truck. I love that there are other people who love that I drive that truck. I love that there are other people who love me because I drive that truck. I love that there are other people who understand me either because I drive that truck or in spite of it. I love that I don't really care what other people think about me driving that truck.</p><p>I'm a girl who drives a truck. Cope.</p>Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-21957582294746245012012-11-12T12:37:00.001-06:002012-11-12T12:37:09.091-06:00Perspective<p>Perspective. According to Webster, it means: </p><p> </p><p><div class="header" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 2px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; word-wrap: break-word; color: #333333; background-color: #ffffff;"><h2 class="me" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; display: inline; color: #000000;">per·spec·tive</h2>  <span class="pronset"><span><embed id="speaker" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="17" height="15" src="http://static.sfdict.com/dictstatic/d/g/speaker.swf" flashvars="soundUrl=http://static.sfdict.com/dictstatic/dictionary/audio/luna/P03/P0307100.mp3" wmode="transparent" allowscriptaccess="sameDomain" salign="t" menu="false" loop="false" quality="high" align="texttop"></embed></span> <span class="show_spellpr" style="display: inline;"><span class="prondelim" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">[</span><span class="pron" style="font-size: 13px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; display: inline;">per-<span class="boldface" style="font-weight: bold;">spek</span>-tiv</span><span class="prondelim" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">]</span> <a class="questionmark" style="color: #333333; font-size: small; background-image: url(http://static.sfdict.com/en/i/dictionary/newserp/Sprite_New.png); background-attachment: scroll; background-color: transparent; height: 16px; width: 16px; position: relative; top: 2px; display: inline-block; background-position: -176px -215px; background-repeat: repeat repeat;" href="http://dictionary.reference.com/help/luna/Spell_pron_key.html"></a> <span class="pron_toggle" style="display: inline;"><a class="pronlink" style="color: #999999; text-decoration: underline; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px; cursor: pointer; margin-left: 11px;" title="Click to show IPA">Show IPA</a></span></span></span></div><div class="body" style="margin: 0em 0px 0em 0em; padding: 0px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; color: #333333; background-color: #ffffff;"><div class="pbk" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; font-size: small;"><span class="pg" style="font-weight: bold; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; display: inline; font-style: italic; font-size: 13px; padding-right: 3px;"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">noun</span></span></span><div class="luna-Ent" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 5px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 1em; background-image: none;"><span class="dnindex" style="font-weight: bold; color: #7b7b7b; display: block; float: left; width: 28px;"><span id="hotword">1.</span></span><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 37px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword">a</span> <span id="hotword">technique</span> <span id="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword">depicting</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">volumes</span> <span id="hotword">and</span> <span id="hotword">spatial</span> <span id="hotword">relationships</span> <span id="hotword">on</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">a</span><span id="hotword">flat</span> <span id="hotword">surface.</span> </span><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword">Compare</span> </span><a style="color: #333333;" href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/aerial+perspective">aerial perspective</a><span id="hotword">, </span><a style="color: #333333;" href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/linear+perspective">linear perspective</a><span id="hotword">.</span></div></div><div class="luna-Ent" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 5px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 1em; background-image: none;"><span class="dnindex" style="font-weight: bold; color: #7b7b7b; display: block; float: left; width: 28px;"><span id="hotword">2.</span></span><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 37px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword">a</span> <span id="hotword">picture</span> <span id="hotword">employing</span> <span id="hotword">this</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">technique,</span> <span id="hotword">especially</span> <span id="hotword">one</span> <span id="hotword">in</span> </span><a style="color: #333333;" href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/which">which</a><span id="hotword"> <span id="hotword">it</span> <span id="hotword">is</span><span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">prominent:</span> </span><span class="ital-inline" style="display: inline; font-style: italic; font-family: Georgia, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword">an</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">architect's</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">perspective</span> <span id="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword">a</span> <span id="hotword">house.</span></span></span></div></div><div class="luna-Ent" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 5px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 1em; background-image: none;"><span class="dnindex" style="font-weight: bold; color: #7b7b7b; display: block; float: left; width: 28px;"><span id="hotword">3.</span></span><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 37px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">a</span> <span id="hotword">visible</span> <span id="hotword">scene,</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">especially</span> <span id="hotword">one</span> <span id="hotword">extending</span> <span id="hotword">to</span> <span id="hotword">a</span> <span id="hotword">distance;</span> <span id="hotword">vista:</span> </span><span class="ital-inline" style="display: inline; font-style: italic; font-family: Georgia, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword">a</span><span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">perspective</span> <span id="hotword">on</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">the</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">main</span> <span id="hotword">axis</span> <span id="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword">an</span> <span id="hotword">estate.</span></span></span></div></div><div class="luna-Ent" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 5px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 1em; background-image: none;"><span class="dnindex" style="font-weight: bold; color: #7b7b7b; display: block; float: left; width: 28px;"><span id="hotword">4.</span></span><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 37px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">the</span> <span id="hotword">state</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">of</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">existing</span> <span id="hotword">in</span> <span id="hotword">space</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">before</span> <span id="hotword">the</span> <span id="hotword">eye:</span> </span><span class="ital-inline" style="display: inline; font-style: italic; font-family: Georgia, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword">The</span> <span id="hotword">elevations</span> <span id="hotword">look</span><span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">all</span> <span id="hotword">right,</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">but</span> <span id="hotword">the</span> <span id="hotword">building's</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">composition</span> <span id="hotword">is</span> <span id="hotword">a</span> <span id="hotword">failure</span> <span id="hotword">in</span> <span id="hotword">perspective.</span></span></span></div></div><div class="luna-Ent" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 5px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 1em; background-image: none;"><span class="dnindex" style="font-weight: bold; color: #7b7b7b; display: block; float: left; width: 28px;"><span id="hotword">5.</span></span><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 37px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">the</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">state</span> <span id="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword">one's</span> <span id="hotword">ideas,</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">the</span> <span id="hotword">facts</span> <span id="hotword">known</span> <span id="hotword">to</span> <span id="hotword">one,</span> <span id="hotword">etc.,</span> <span id="hotword">in</span> <span id="hotword">having</span><span id="hotword">a</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">meaningful</span> <span id="hotword">interrelationship:</span> </span><span class="ital-inline" style="display: inline; font-style: italic; font-family: Georgia, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword">You</span> <span id="hotword">have</span> <span id="hotword">to</span> <span id="hotword">live</span> <span id="hotword">here</span> <span id="hotword">a</span> <span id="hotword">few</span> <span id="hotword">years</span></span></span></div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 37px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"><span class="ital-inline" style="display: inline; font-style: italic; font-family: Georgia, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword"> </span> <span id="hotword">to</span><span id="hotword">see</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">local</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">conditions</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">in</span> <span id="hotword" style="cursor: default;">perspective.</span></span></span></div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 37px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"></div></div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 37px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;"></div></div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 37px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;"></div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 7px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;">This speaks of distance and the physical relationship of one object to another. I supposed I could use this to put relational importance on my problems as compared to those around me. </div></div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 7px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;"></div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 7px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;">Sometimes, we get so caught up in our own thinking and surviving that we forget about others. Our problems become huge, in our minds, because we have nothing to compare them to. </div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 7px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;"></div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 7px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;">My house is a wreck. That is a huge problem for me but unless something reminds me, I forget that there are others out there who have no house. That puts my problem into perspective.</div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 7px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;"></div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 7px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;">I have a cold and it sucks and for me, in this moment, it's about all I can think of. And then--something reminds me. I have friends who have loved ones who may not make it through the night. I have friends who have lost loved ones recently. Puts my cold into perspective.</div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 7px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;"></div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 7px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;">I have had several reminders today that as large as I may think my problems are, there are those out there who have problems much worse than mine. Puts my stuff into perspective. Finding perspective gets me to grateful. Getting to grateful gives me grace. Grace gives me strength and strength gives me courage which helps me examine my perspective</div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 7px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;"></div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 7px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;">And spun from that circle is peace. </div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 7px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;"></div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 7px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;">Today, I have peace and all that goes with it. Tomorrow will bring a new perspective.</div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 7px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;"></div><div class="dndata" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 7px; font-family: verdana; font-size: small; text-align: left;"></div></p>Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-18951354671532571852012-11-08T06:39:00.001-06:002012-11-08T06:44:32.177-06:00Good Grief<p>Apparently, my emotional shit storm isn't over. I had an experience this last Saturday and it's awakened something in me, or at the very least made me aware of something I have probably had all along but didn't trust it, believe it, know it....pick one.</p><p>I was sitting on the futon this morning and just suddenly started crying. That's not me. That's someone else, only I don't know who....well, maybe I do. </p><p>I was told once that in most of my past lives, I've been a healer. I believe I am in this life too. I look back and see how many people would come to me just to talk and whatever words I found seemed to help them--even when the words weren't all that nice. </p><p>It happens at work too. I have a big white chair in my office and I'll have a parade of people come sit in it and the next thing I know, I know their life story or I know their most recent emotional injury and when they leave, they tell me they feel better. Go figure because I'm not really a warm and fuzzy personality.</p><p>I know I've had people come to me just because of how I hug them. Bear hug, not this cheek to cheek shit. Hugs heal.</p><p>I've had people call me and ask me to just talk them to sleep. I know what you're thinking--"It's because you bore them into sleep." To you, I'd say, "Bite me." I believe it's part of my gift.</p><p>So, whatever messages, images, thoughts or feelings I'm now aware of are meant to heal. I just have to figure out how to use it and on whom. I also have to find a teacher because if I don't learn how to control this, my head will fly apart.</p><p>Welcome to midlife.</p>Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-70741224268832103082012-11-03T19:29:00.001-05:002012-11-03T19:42:49.842-05:00Lessons<p>Today was an interesting and enlightening day. It was beautiful. Sunny. Hot. My morning started with a bike ride with 117 other bikes to help raise money for the Ronald McDonald House, a place where families stay who have children with catastrophic illnesses. So, I started my day grateful.</p><p>Pulling into the parking lot of the House filled me with peace and the knowledge that I would do something good today.</p><p>The good I did there wasn't the good I would do today. That good came later and is, hopefully, still coming.</p><p>Today was a private gathering for a woman whom I felt an attachment with only I didn't know why until today. I was included in the private gathering which felt right but had me scratching my head. I knew that this woman would always make a point to come sit with me and talk to me. She sat close, touching, but it didn't feel odd to have her in my space. It felt right. Familiar. Old. Comfortable.</p><p>So, I went but not just for me. It turns out I was there for someone else, only I didn't know it until I hugged her and then I knew why. And that felt right too.</p><p>At some point, everybody went inside because someone was going to say a few words. I tried to go in even though I was in my motorcycle gear, standing out like a sore thumb but I didn't care because she didn't care. I just couldn't stay in the house. Something wouldn't let me go in beyond the entryway and something kept pulling my back outside.</p><p>So, there I was in the front yard when it hit me. She was there. I felt her. I asked if it was her and started crying because she was sad. She very clearly told me to tell everyone there that she was sad because we were sad and she didn't want that. She told me that she was exactly where she was supposed to be. She told me that I was there because she was supposed to tell me that. She also told me that I was there to help hold someone else up.</p><p>It lasted for only a moment but touched me deeply. </p><p>I hope those who need to hear this hear it or read it and realize that it's meant for them.</p><p>If nothing else, learn this--If you feel something for someone then tell them before it's too late. Tomorrow isn't a given.</p>Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-9110012389416002632012-11-02T05:21:00.001-05:002012-11-02T05:21:50.468-05:00Friends<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Friends. What makes one? What are the rules, if any? I'm having to think about this because it appears that who I counted as friends has changed or is changing and maybe that's they it should be. Some friends remain with us for life. They may drift close then away then close again but they're always there. Sort of like something floating at the edge of the surf...in...out...in...out.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Do you out grow people? Probably. I believe that we all travel in spheres of time and for a while, certain people will travel with us and then they fall out of the sphere to travel at their own pace. Sort of like the turtles in the western current in Nemo. If you pop out of that current, you lose ground and either you can catch back up or you can't.</p><p class="MsoNormal">They say that when the student is ready to learn, the teacher appears. I would suppose that once the student learns the lesson, the teacher disappears. Makes sense. The real trick is to figure out what the lesson is, and for some, we may never figure out what that lesson was because our vision is clouded with grief or anger and we refuse to either work through it or let it go.</p><p class="MsoNormal">So, for your own sake, you grieve the loss of that friend, because it is truly a loss, and then you move on. You go through all of the stages and them come out better on the other end. You learn to become self-aware, self-conscious and by that I mean "self" conscious, not self-paranoid. We develop and understanding of who we are and why we are who we are. We have the "ah ha" moment of realizing that everything that has happened to us has made us who we are in this moment. We also begin to realize that who we are right now is not who we will be next week or sometimes even by the end of the day. </p><p class="MsoNormal">The awesome thing is that through the process and through the contact with that person, you make other contacts and other people show up in your life to teach you something else. We are always learning and as humans, our life is experiental. It has to be or we wither and die, if not physically, certainly emotionally and spiritually. And some of the experiences we have, we go into knowing it is going to hurt but we are compelled to do it anyway. Because we just have to touch that hot stove, or that live wire (which I've done) because we just can't believe that it will hurt us and when it does, we're surprised. Or are we?</p><p class="MsoNormal">I believe that our souls travel in a pack and have since the beginning, whenever that was. Our souls chose to incarnate because there is either a lesson they have to learn or the souls around them do. When I realized that my soul has chosen to put me in this circumstance and surround me with the people and the experiences it has, I had two reactions: one of anger because why in the hell would my soul make me go through some of the things I'm going through now or have gone through? And one of relief because it means I'm doing and feeling and experiencing exactly what I'm supposed to.</p><p class="MsoNormal">My circle of souls has experienced a great deal of loss lately either through physical death or through the migration of friends. If you close your eyes and picture a rope of light extending from your heart out to the hearts of the other souls in your circle, you should see something that resembles a spider web...or a dream catcher. You should see ropes of light that go from soul to soul without a direct line to you. And the more people we touch, the brighter that light becomes. It has to. It lights the darkness and eventually, you would see enough ropes that it looks solid with no room for darkness. </p><p class="MsoNormal">And if you keep looking, you will see that none of the strands are disconnected because while the physical person may leave, their soul still travels in the circle and though we may never again know them as who they are in this life, we'll be with that soul again. We will be a brother or a sister or a lover or a wife or a husband or a friend or a child or a mother or a father or whatever our soul and their soul needs us to be.</p><p class="MsoNormal">So, while my circle has lost some people important to us, my soul space still blazes with the bright light of my soul circle. Some in my circle, including me, will grieve the loss of one in this circle. We will be sad and angry and feel lost and bewildered and struggle to understand the how and the why but if we take a moment and look within we will all see that the light is still there and still just as bright.</p><p class="MsoNormal">And that's comforting and gives me strength.</p>Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-14532762378773360052012-10-26T08:15:00.002-05:002012-10-26T11:26:52.599-05:00I Know What's Wrong with MeSo, you know, I've been doing the weight loss journey which has started some emotional sloughing off as well. And that's kind of interesting because as you know, when you lose a layer of skin, the layer underneath is very tender and sensitive to the slightest little things. I'm finding that to be true now. One emotional layer is lifted and the one revealed is just bloody hypersensitive.<br />
<br />
<br />
As one also knows, when that layer heals, it's usually a little more rugged than the one before so, as the saying goes, what doesn't kill us only makes us stronger. As each layer is revealed and allowed to heal, I only get stronger.<br />
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<br />
Maybe more honest with myself, which is just a frightening thing for me. I've always been able to compartmentalize my life and I still do. I'm good at it. But, I'm finding that I don't have to do it as often as I used to.<br />
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<br />
I'm also learning that there are things that I just don't have time for. For instance, a long, hard and fast rule for me is don't lie to me. I can tolerate theft, a body check, an insult and hatred as long as it's honest. I can't abide a liar because all you have is your word and I place my friendship and trust in your word. You screw that up and the foundation of my friendship and trust is blown ALL to hell. It's happened.<br />
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<br />
I have less energy for the energy vampires out there and we all have them. People who just try to suck the wind and juice out of you. If you aren't willing to try and make changes to make things better then SHUT THE FUCK UP. I don't have time for you anymore.<br />
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I've learned that this emotional trip has opened me to new friendships and experiences and I like it. I still don't like crowds and prefer smaller settings with close friends but am not opposed to going to large parties. Just not all the time. <br />
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I don't have time for fake and I find that at a lot of large parties. People who will be nice to your face then spit on the floor when you walk away. Don't like that. See comment about energy vampires.<br />
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As I go through this emotional purging, my filter is getting thinner and thinner. If you ask me a question and don't like the answer, don't get angry with me. Check your own self cuz that's your issue, not mine.<br />
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And finally, you may not like me when all of this is over. That's ok. If you can't stick with me through this then...well...fuck off. I needed to get rid of you in the first place.<br />
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<br />
BTW...I was 217 this morning. Started at 24.5. I'm 3lbs away from my 5% goal. Bouyah!Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-72058668711688509012012-10-23T05:59:00.001-05:002012-10-23T05:59:01.966-05:00Journey<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal">I've started a journey. I finally reached a point in which I was uncomfortable enough to do something about my weight so I started Weight Watchers. After seeing how well my co-worker has done I figured it would work for me.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Apparently I was right because I see results on the scales. I started at 224.5 and am now at 214.2. I need to see change and I am or I get discouraged and quit.</p><p class="MsoNormal">It's also started an emotional purging. I'm releasing old regrets, old memories. people, anything that is bad for me. While this is a good thing, it's hard because those old regrets and memories had become like armor for me and to be stripping those away--well, it leaves me vulnerable, open and raw and in a state which would allow me to be easily taken advantage of so I have to stay on heightened alert which is exhausting.</p><p class="MsoNormal">It's necessary though. I've written down feelings and regrets that I need to let go and have burned them. I've done some other things to help release what I need to release. And after doing that I feel freer but have to remain vigilant so that they don't creep back in.</p><p class="MsoNormal">It's a work in progress. Hang with me through this.</p><p> </p>Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-83266365697404889922012-07-08T07:50:00.001-05:002012-07-08T07:50:34.013-05:00New Website<p><a href="http://playhousestories.blogspot.com/2012/07/welcome.html">http://playhousestories.blogspot.com</a></p><p> </p><p>In case anyone is interested.</p>Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-43218731920337001612012-03-11T09:01:00.001-05:002012-07-08T07:01:39.128-05:00It's been hot<p><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', times; font-size: x-small;">And I feel guilty for not being busy outside. Go figure. Actually, I've felt this need to be outside for whatever reason. I'm feeling closed in if I'm inside 6 walls. I'm not sure what that's about.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', times; font-size: x-small;">I had a tarot reading not long ago that said money was coming and things were changing at work. Not sure if they're related and not sure if my need to be outside is related to that. Maybe the change at work is because I'm feeling squeezed where I am and I'm about to burst out.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', times; font-size: x-small;">Like the Hulk.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', times; font-size: x-small;">Only not turning green.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', times; font-size: x-small;">Maybe like the catepillar and the butterfly.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', times; font-size: x-small;">Change is coming, I feel it.</span></p>Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-18312965715675235112012-01-08T07:42:00.001-06:002012-01-08T07:42:18.304-06:00Happy New Year<p><span style="font-size: small; font-family: 'times new roman', times;">Well, so far, it's been uneventful which is exactly how I like it. Last year was a mess. An emotional roller coaster that wore me the fuck OUT. I'm not looking for a repeat. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: small; font-family: 'times new roman', times;">I've been reading all of the New Year's Resolutions that people are making. "I resolve to lose weight or I resolve to eat less sugar or I resolve to...blah blah blah. My resolution? I resolve to be a grumpy hardass on only the days ending in Y. How's that? I'm pretty sure I can keep that one. There are some I'd like to give a go at such as not eating sugar and refined white flour and white rice. I'll give a go at not yelling at my children or spouse. I'll give a go at have more compassion at work which means I'll be sympathetic when I fire someone. I'll still fire them but I'll have feelings about it. I'll give a go at not worrying about money and bills. There is no debtors prison anymore so what's the worst that can happen? I know how to live in a tent.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: small; font-family: 'times new roman', times;">Moving on....</span></p><p><span style="font-size: small; font-family: 'times new roman', times;">My horoscope for this year keeps talking about movement in my career. Whatever. Not seeing that happen because that would require that some people in my group leave and I don't see that happening for a long time soooooooooo.....</span></p><p><span style="font-size: small; font-family: 'times new roman', times;">Anyway, it's a new year. I have good friends and a good family. My boys aren't in jail and haven't gotten anybody pregnant so I'm grateful for that. I have a spouse that is still managing to run the household and do meaningful volunteer work which is remarkable. All in all, I'm pretty happy even though I don't wear that happiness on my shirt sleeve. No, that spot on my shirt sleeve is probably hotwing sauce.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: small; font-family: 'times new roman', times;">I do have one wish and that is to be funny. Making people laugh is a good thing. I'll work on that. On days ending in Y. Those Y days are filling up with busy work already. Jeez</span></p>Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-35295858875998080182011-08-26T06:11:00.002-05:002011-11-12T07:05:08.091-06:00Huh<p>That's just how this day feels. So far, anyway. It's early.</p><p>I have managed to finish painting the back of the house. Now, that doesn't mean the eaves, just the main part of the siding and I have no intentions of apologizing for not painting the eaves. Who looks at them anyway? All that's left is the front part of the house then to tidy up the trim because let's just face it. I was a little sloppy. You would be too up on a 24' rickety aluminum ladder. I inherited it somehow. I don't even remember how I got it. Doesn't matter because I need a new sturdier one to be safe. </p><p>More ramble.</p><p>I think that tonight I'll light a fire in the firepit and watch what we call camp tv. Why is fire so mesmerizing? it's almost hypnotic. Maybe it's the constant movement of the flames. Maybe it's the color. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's what it represents to our deep, evolving psyche. Fire helped to civilize us. Or so we're taught. I wonder sometimes if we're civilized yet. Look at what we do to each other and are doing to our planet. That's not civilized. </p><p>What IS civilized anyway? Using the proper fork? Maybe. Or maybe that's just manners and we should never mistake one for the other. Hitler knew which was the appetizer fork and yet look what he did to his fellow humans. </p><p>Civilized. According to webster,</p><p><span class="pg"><span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">adjective</span> <span class="hwc"> </span></span></p><div class="luna-Ent"><span class="dnindex"><span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">1.</span></span><div class="dndata"><strong><span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">having</span> <span class="hwc">an</span> <span class="hwc">advanced</span> <span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">or</span> <span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">humane</span> <span class="hwc"> </span><a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/culture">culture</a><span class="hwc">,</span> <span class="hwc">society,</span> </strong><span class="hwc"><strong>etc</strong>. (There's your arts, music, proper fork and knife and books)<br /></span></div></div><div class="luna-Ent"><span class="dnindex"><span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">2.</span></span><div class="dndata"><strong><span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">polite;</span> <span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">well-bred;</span> <span class="hwc">refined. </span></strong><span class="hwc">(Soooooo, bubba swamp person can't be civilized? Hardly.)<br /></span></div></div><div class="luna-Ent"><span class="dnindex"><span class="hwc">3.</span></span><div class="dndata"><strong><span class="hwc">of</span> <span class="hwc">or</span> <span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">pertaining</span> <span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">to</span> <span class="hwc">civilized</span> <span class="hwc">people:</span> </strong><span class="ital-inline"><strong><span class="hwc">The</span> <span class="hwc">civilized</span> <span class="hwc">world</span> <span class="hwc">must</span> <span class="hwc">fight</span> <span class="hwc">ignorance. </span></strong><span class="hwc">(Ignorance of what? To listen to some politicians, half the population is ignorant and must be told what to think and how to act. God KNOWS that women are incapable of making their own decisions about their own bodies and God FORBID that we should hold the men just as responsible. Unless I'm mistaken, there is only one virgin pregnancy. Takes sperm to fertilize that egg so why aren't we screaming at the men and boys to wrap that thing up and be responsible? Because, people, everybody knows that women are the most powerful beings on the planet. One flash of poonany and men just lose their minds. They kill for it. They compromise their careers for it. They destroy nations for it. They write books and music and plays and movies about it. They can't control themselves because of it. Ladies...we should harness this power. Let's meet later over coffee and discuss it. Men. Ignorant fools.)</span> </span></div></div><p><span class="dnindex"><span class="hwc">4.</span></span><strong><span class="hwc">easy</span> <span class="hwc">to</span> <span class="hwc">manage</span> <span class="hwc">or</span> <a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/control">control</a><span class="hwc">;</span> <span class="hwc">well</span> <span class="hwc">organized</span> <span class="hwc">or</span> </strong><span class="hwc"><strong>ordered</strong>:</span> <span class="ital-inline"><span class="hwc">The</span> <span class="hwc">car</span> <span class="hwc">is</span> <span class="hwc">quiet</span> <span class="hwc">and</span> <span class="hwc">civilized,</span> <span class="hwc">even</span> <span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">in</span> <span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">sharp</span> <span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">turns. (Well look at that. "Easy to manage or control." "Well organized or ordered." This may be why the Occupy folks scare so many civilized people. This may be why they have some politicians and rich bankers upset. They're.....say it.............unCIVILIZED........gasp. I'll bet that many in that group know what fork to use, are polite, well-bred--whatever THAT means-- and refined--whatever THAT means. And still, they are uncivilized, according to some. They are shaking and questioning the status quo. They are not easy to manage. They are not well organized (though some are getting better at it) and they are not ordered. Chaos. Chaos scares us because it's uncivilized.)</span></span></p><p><span class="ital-inline"><span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">We kill each other. Steal food from each other. Subjugate each other and yet we have the audacity to call ourselves civilized.</span></span></p><p> </p><p><span class="ital-inline"><span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">Thanks. I'll pass. I can do without the culture and refinement if that's what makes me fit society's idea of civilized, if that's what lumps me in with those who are wreaking havoc on this planet and those who live on it.</span></span></p><p> </p><p><span class="ital-inline"><span class="hwc" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">Give me a fire and turkey leg and I'm happy.<br /></span></span></p>Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-12628854685866585252011-07-16T07:16:00.000-05:002011-07-16T07:16:55.366-05:00Florida BoundSeems like forever since we were there last but it's been only since March. Time for me to recharge again. I am drawn inexplicably to the ocean. I think it's the sensations of the sound and wind and rocking of the water, the rhythmic crashing of the waves and how they make smooth the roughness of the sand. In some ways they bring order to the chaos of the tiny grains. They wash away the footprints of those who walk by. <br />
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Life is chaos and I don't know about you but I do things--mundane things--to bring order to that chaos. Loading the dishwasher kills the chaos of the kitchen and the mess of feeding the family. Ironing kills the chaos of the wrinkles on the cloths. It puts sharp crisp lines in the pants where wrinkles and muss once were. Getting work off my desk brings order to the chaos of dealing with the mess of employees and humans in general.<br />
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Humans create chaos although almost every single one will tell you they hate it. They will tell you--myself included--that they prefer an ordered life and yet we do things that shake up that ordered life.<br />
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We have children. There's chaos multiplied. They are messy both physically and emotionally. We have husbands and wives and partners. They are messy. Some take on extra lovers. There's a mess and all the while we keep saying we prefer order. Crazy ain't it?<br />
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Life is messy. Life is chaotic. Human need the chaos to thrive. Put an animal in a cage with nothing to do and watch it go slowly crazy. Put a human in a cage with defined structure and order and watch it go crazy. Watch that human do something to create chaos. We aren't wired to do the same thing day in and day out. We need change. We need chaos. <br />
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Love is messy but we need it. We crave it. It's probably the most chaotic of all. It makes us crazy. We do things we wouldn't normally do. We fight. We make up after the fight. We do things to pick fights just so we can make up. We laugh and cry and get frustrated enough to chew our shoes. And yet, we look for it over and over as if we keep trying to find the perfect chaos.<br />
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We need chaos. But we also need something that gives us the illusion that we are taming that chaos. Conquering that chaos. For me, it's the ocean. It's ironing or cleaning the kitchen or hugging my children or hugging my wife. For those few moments I've killed the chaos monster knowing full well that in the next 2 minutes something will happen and the chaos monster will return.<br />
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I'm alive and I know it because chaos makes me feel it. Finding order makes me strong enough to defeat it and face it again.Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1759366360645430187.post-44968274203418352262011-06-12T06:15:00.001-05:002011-06-12T06:15:23.532-05:00Ran and Haslam Sitting in a Tree...<p>They're both jackasses.</p><p>Ron is crowing about this</p><p>http://www.tennessean.com/article/20110611/NEWS/306110040/TN-Planned-Parenthood-chapters-stripped-federal-funding</p><p>Nothing to crow about. How many jobs has our legislature created? What? I can't hear you. Oh...NONE. That's right you jackwagon Ronnnnn....NONE and now you're defunding a program that helps stop creating people who need those jobs YOU'VE DONE NOTHING TO CREATE. </p><p>Tennessee is slipping back to the 50's. Look out women. Look out teachers. Look out people who post pictures to the web. Big Daddy is watching.</p><p>Fuckers.</p>Save This MGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08922374493922701067noreply@blogger.com0