Enough is Enough

I got a couple of e-mails earlier this week from someone with way too much time on their hands and a serious problem with control. The theme of these e-mails were eerily similar to the demeaning relationships I used to have back in the day. Only today, I see them for what they are - the toxic brain drain of a very sick person who just feels the need to reach out and hurt someone. 

Unacceptable behavior is just that - unacceptable. And I don't care who it is that's acting out - it is no longer OK to treat me with disrespect. Although I believe that we should be kind and compassionate, with love and tolerance for all, there comes a point that I draw the line. I have learned not to let anger rule my actions. To respond - not react. But when someone - anyone - acts out in a manner that is unacceptable, I have to take action. 

My skin has gotten a bit thicker over the years, and I am no longer offended by the slights of people who don't really think before they speak or act. I have learned that it's none of my business what others think of me - that at the end of the day I have only myself and my God to answer to. I have also learned that I no longer have to let anyone treat me like a doormat. Abuse, whether it be physical, mental, emotional, verbal, or even written, is just that - abuse. And it is wrong. No one has the right to treat me in a manner that I find offensive. NO MATTER WHAT RATIONALE THEY USE. 

Quite the contrary, I have the right - no, make that the responsibility - to say "NO, YOU CANNOT DO THAT TO ME." I don't have to respond with vulgarity or tears, and I don't have to act like some banshee bitch from hell. On the other hand, I also don't have to legitimize it and say it's OK.

No, I am a sane and sober WOMAN. I can just turn my back, hang up the phone, walk away or just hit the delete key and not feel one bit guilty about it. My happiness is my responsibility - no one else's. This is my dance space - bought and paid for with buckets of ink and gallons of tears. I will let you know when you are welcome in it. Peace.

Those Damn Heartstrings

"Lovers, I know you've had a few
But hide your heart beneath the covers
And tell 'em they're the only one.
And others, they know just
What I'm going through
And it's a-hard to be a lover
When you say you're only in it for fun."

Seems that ever time I pop in a CD, some song from way-back-when grabs hold of my heartstrings and jerks me nearly to tears. Those last two lines especially keep playing over and over in my head. In another time and another place, being in it just for fun, was well, fun - and safe - sorta. No commitments, no grief, but terribly lonely. 

Today, I know I deserve better, and that God is molding me for something very special.

Someone asked me today what I write about.

That's easy. I write about the things I see and hear as my day unfolds. The "what" of my day, if you will. The tricky part is to capture the "why" of those encounters.

What vs. Why

Someone asked me today what I write about. That's easy. I write about the "what" of my day - the things I see or hear as the day unfolds. The tricky part is to capture the "why" of those encounters. I usually write at night, so I have my jammies on and usually a cup of tea. Tonight, I am indulging in a bit of chocolate, and the message inside the foil reads, "It's never too late for a fresh start." 

Today, I spoke with a man I hadn't seen in some time. He looked haggard, thin and profoundly unhappy. I wondered why, as seemingly his life is quite on track. Why was this person so sad? You could see it in his eyes. In the closed-off body language; the tightness around the lips; the slouched shoulders; the emptiness. That was it. The emptiness. 

Here was a man with so much promise in his life. Promotion at work, new house being built, loving family and friends. Yet, his eyes looked washed out and empty. Why, with so much going for him, was he standing there looking so damn unhappy? And then I remembered how I had had that same look on my face at one time. Since then, I've learned that happiness doesn't come in shiny boxes. It doesn't live in a fancy house, drive an expensive car or have great luggage. (Well maybe great luggage) Happiness comes from within - with a sense of purpose, usefulness and belonging. All the other stuff only enhances that feeling. 

I’ve also learned that life is full of DO-OVERS, Thank You God. Why? Because we are perfectly flawed beings. We get a fresh start - a second chance, a new serve, a do-over. For no other reason than because we are loved by Him. Hopefully that man finds his fresh start - his do-over. Lord knows we all need one - or two - or ten. 

Second piece of chocolate (I worked out, so I can be extravagant) bears the following message: "Dream as if you'll live forever. Live as if you'll die tomorrow." Glad I had that second piece. There's still time to have another...

For Whiskers

Much loved. Truly missed.
Cross the Rainbow Bridge and go with God.
Your spirit be with the ones you loved for all time.

It's So Hard to Say Goodbye

For many people, making decisions about how to proceed with a terminally sick animal is just as gut wrenching as it would be if they were human. Unfortunately, the options are far more limited, though the pain is just as great. 

As humans, we oftentimes project our own thoughts, feelings and desires onto our furry, fuzzy and feathered family members. And when the end comes, we oftentimes want to do for them the things that we would do for our human family members. We lavish affection, treats and care. We spend time with them that we would normally spend on our work, home, etc. And when their time nears, we hope and pray it will be peaceful and quiet, just as we would for ourselves. But if not, we have to remember that we are entrusted to care for them - no matter how hard it may seem. 

But at the end of the day, animals, like humans, don't really want treats. They just want to be close to the people in their lives that they love. I've had to make the hard decision twice now, and I may have to again far sooner than I would care too. I can tell you this - it doesn't get any easier. But I know that God speaks as much through my babies as he does through people. 

They teach me about unconditional love, loyalty and what is really important; the "what" versus the "how" of my life. So I'll spend more time with the family and friends that love and care for me, and who allow me to love and care for them. For they are gone far to soon from our lives - and goodbye is so very hard to say...

If the phone doesn't ring...

"Lots of new friends,
but the same old answers.
Open your eyes,
you might see.
If our lives were that simple,
we'd live in the past.
If the phone doesn't ring,

it's me."

That Jimmy Buffet song was playing on my way home tonight. I couldn't help but think back over the last year, or three, or 30. It's funny how a song about one thing can trigger a memory of something different - yet the same, somehow.

Funny how the past, recent or otherwise, somehow pops up just when we least expect it to. Or worse, just when we think we got it all figured out...

"If it takes all the future,
we'll live through the past.
If the phone doesn't ring,
it's me. It's me. It's me."

Egomaniacs with Inferiority Complexes

Though I am rarely shocked, and only moderately surprised anymore, I am still somewhat amused by those people who feel it is better to go down in a blaze of shame than to admit they need help. (No I am not talking about Sarah Palin) 

  

Better to slog onward with your fellow co-workers thinking you have it all together, then to admit that you may not be the hot shit the woman in the mirror thinks you are. Not.

A few things I have learned along the way: The more I know, the more I know that I don't know, and not to take myself too seriously - nobody else does.  

P.S. Nobody gets out alive.

Soul Food Sisters

There is nothing so heart-warming, so soul-soothing, then to spend time with people who truly love and care for you; and who allow you to love and care for them. To just be in their midst is like being wrapped in a warm blanket, and know that all is well. The breaking of bread (in our case, dipped in a garlic-infused olive oil) and the sharing of one's heart, thoughts and opinions - even if they are diametrically opposed - is the essence of meaningful relationships. It is here that I am safe to be me. 

I watch and listen to my friends, four very different women, who are so strong, so loving, so smart and so much a part of my life. We may not see each other for weeks or even months at a time, but when we do gather, it is just as if we picked up were we left off. The thread of conversation never really breaks, it just unwinds a bit more with each gathering. 

For too long, I have allowed my work, my striving to "be" something, detract me from my purpose - to "be" a friend, a confidante, a daughter and a sister. To be a child of God. 

I read once that loneliness is a disconnect from God, and to trust in Him is to reconnect. His plans do not pass me by - I merely circumvent them with my willfulness. I know that God speaks through people, and believe the expression of His love is through the love we have for one another. It is in the relationship that I have with Him where I can open myself to receive the love and care of others. More importantly, the love that I receive feeds my soul - it is then that I am whole.

Seven Figures of Separation

Now I understand why there should be a separation of Church and State. Why is it that people feel they need to mix prayer with politics? I'm not talking about an invocation before a meeting - Lord knows we all need divine inspiration on a daily basis. 

Our founding fathers looked to the God of their understanding to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice and promote the general Welfare, so I'm all for bringing God to the table. Only, let's keep Him in our hearts and minds and not in the minutes. No, I'm talking about people who talk Christ but walk corporate. It's sort of like rubbing your belly and patting your head - you start out OK, but eventually one hand begins moving in the same direction as the other. 

My hypocrisy meter starts going off when the talk turns to dark angels of destruction and praying for souls when the subject involves anything over $5. And when the conversation turns to seven-figures - well, you get the picture. It would seem that politics is not limited only to politicians.

It's About Time

It's been a while since my last post - quite a while. But I was concerned about those nasty little buggers that were taking my posts WAAAAAAY to much to heart.

Stop internalizing everything - it's not always about you!

Anyway, I am back, and looking forward to giving you more insight about my encounters along this journey.

Til then, M.