from blah to beautiful in a day

You know those days when you feel like blah for no reason?  Except there are reasons?  This sort of day happened to me recently. I was missing my family like cray.  I'm still in transition so everyday feels like I'm a tester for roller coasters, and people are showing me who they are and for better or worse, I am believing them. I've recently realized and accepted the fact that sometimes our hearts intertwine and stay that way forever just because. Other times, we fully face and seek to embrace the reality that shelf lives, seasons, and expiration dates are for real. Another reason that propelled me into blah-dom: In the same night, I experienced euphoric heights of love and connection with my tribe, and then somehow crash landed into a desolate island where foolishness had gone to seed and taken root. The juxtaposition was a jarring yet poignant reminder of what I choose to embrace and that which I can entertain no longer...

All of these feelings were a cocktail of contrasting emotions.  Sitting on top of my own turbulent heart sensations were the tough situations of folks I love and adore.  It was all too much and I woke up with a sense of drowning in overwhelm. Flying down the highway I said a whine of a prayer that went something like this: Please help.  Everything feels so harsh right now.  Like it's all too much and I am not feeling the love. The very thing I thought would heal me has brought me undone. It feels like I cannot sense love and beauty anymore.  Open my eyes and help me see.  Help, help, help. 

I floundered and felt bottomed out emotionally for a few hours, but I kept pushing through--on the verge of tears--taking one step at a time.  A phone call from my favorite uncle was the first sign.  His call was the lifter of my head.   We talked for hours and it was food to my soul. Food.  To my soul, yall.  Monarch butterflies were the next omen.  All day, everywhere I went, they fluttered nearby and made my heart leap.  Their orange wings brought me hope for the present moment.  Even Neighbor was involved without knowing.  She rounded out the trifecta when she so lovingly ran an errand for me.  I didn't ask or expect her to yet she *always* does things like this for me; however, on this particular day, she delivered a loving message from the librarian. Her exact words that echoed in my heart: You are loved by even librarians. 

God's answer was undeniable: See the beauty and feel the love because it is SO there.  

Earth Angels are real yall! 

The day could have ended right there for me because I truly received the message and my heart was full; however, "my cup runneth over" when my doorbell rang and a true Earth Angel was standing on my porch with the most glorious bouquet I have EVER seen. Blow me away, sweet Baby Jesus.  We talked, took a ride together, and then talked some more.  Just being with Earth Angel undid the crash landing, unraveled the overwhelm, and healed another little piece of my heart.  Friends, there is hope for the present moment.  May you see the beauty and feel the love.  May your overwhelm come undone and your heart receive sweet healing.  If you need a sign, just ask. Surely it will come (tweet it).

   

transitions

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Anybody other than me going through some major transitions and changes right now? Lord, I sure do hope I ain't the only one. While I welcome change and transition like I would welcome a beloved, lifelong friend, somehow I always seem to forget how difficult periods of alteration can be.  So as I sit smack dab in the middle-- well, hopefully, more like three quarters of the way into this leg of my life journey, I can see how I've grown and matured in some ways.  I've learned to take things like this in stride a bit better than before. I've always known and chosen to believe that no matter what happens, I am going to be alright. Nevertheless, there is still a small part of me that wants to throw a tantrum, pout it out, then sit down and have a real good cry.  Why? Because everything feels so raw.  I feel extremely vulnerable and fragile because I have no idea about the ultimate plan and the unfolding timeline of events.  I've done all I can, and now, I must trust the process.  And wait.  It feels like I'm standing in a corridor.  Just standing.  Out here.  Unable to go into a room yet.  You know, just hanging out in the hallway.  It's dark and it's awkward because I can hear the buzz of activity going on behind the doors that are around me-- even though I'm not currently immersed in any of those worlds.  I'm waiting for the light to come on, for a door to fly open so that I can walk in dancing. I've done all I know to do, so now I'm waiting: Learning patience.  Resting: Learning more about Self Care.  Playing: Learning what Play looks like to me now in this stage of Life.  Keeping my friends close and letting the drama and its minstrels fade into oblivion.  Even though it feels uncomfortable, I know I am in a really good space.  Transition seems hardest when I'm trying to look cool, calm, and in control of the ride; however, when I let go of my perceived route and just roll with the reoccurring recalculations of the GPS, then (and only then) does the light turn on in the hallway.  And in that illuminated moment, I realize that I've got this.  And by this, I mean that I can jam, dance, laugh, and sing because my only job right now is to rock out in the hallway, and then keep the party going when the right door swings open.  

about giving people flowers...

My Grandaddy, my Mom's Dad, used to always say, "Give people their flowers while they're living." He was a passionate preacher and hard-working patriarch who did not take no mess. He lived by strong spiritual truths and convictions and he held up the plumb line for others as well.   Before I tell you about the flowers scenario, I want to make sure you know that my  Grandaddy was gangster.  Seriously. He was too legit to quit decades before M.C. Hammer was even born.  Let me share a few gems from the treasure chest of memories:

When hoodlums vandalized our church, he got on the news with his shotgun and said he would shoot the people if they came back.  He was not joking.  And he may or may not have locked and loaded his shotgun during the interview...

tulips from my garden :)

Early meant on time for him.  He worked a job for 40+ years and was late by two minutes ONE time.  Yes, late one time in 40+ years.   An accident on the freeway brought traffic to a complete stop for 30+ minutes and this is the reason why he was two minutes late.  You'd think one slip up in 40+ years would be acceptable, ok even.  No.  He felt like that was a mar on his record.  Anytime he was going somewhere, he left waaaaay early and had NO problem leaving you if you weren't ready to go.  He left me and my Granny *plenty* of times before we finally gave up on the notion of riding anywhere with him. LOL

He sang loud and changed the key of the song whensoever he pleased.  We were song-jacked in church all the time.  And like idiots, we would continue to start out singing congregational hymns in the key of G only to be redirected to the key of C whenever he decided to come in singing, which was usually around the second stanza. 

He would call you out in front of Jesus, Mary, Saint Peter, Joseph and whoever else was present.  If you were doing foolywank, he had no problem letting you know the error of your ways and that he would not and could not co-sign on your foolery.  He meant it in love, but that did not stop the sting of the truth.  

So now that you know and understand his gangsterness, let me tell you about this sweet, tender and endearing flower saying.  It is the ultimate challenge to express love and appreciation to folks on the daily.  A reminder to let people know how I feel about them and what they mean to me while the blood is still running warm in our veins.  It is a reminder that I do not need to wait until someone has passed away to declare my love and their importance to me because I can do this everyday in many, many ways.  All that matters is that I do it.  I really try my best to let people know exactly what they mean to me. That I love them.  Dearly.  When my Grandaddy died and when my brother died, we did not buy flowers because we had already given them their flowers while they were living.  

Why don't you give someone a flower today?  Let their heart savor its precious scent knowing that unlike flowers from the store, these special flowers my Grandaddy was talking about will last forever and ever and ever. 

yeah, I suck my thumb... so what?!

I don't suck my thumb, but my kiddo does and when people make uninvited comments and antiquated assessments about it, I am momentarily baffled.  Why?  Mainly because my child is Minding His Business (perhaps these people need to take a page out of that book?) and  neither of us asked for personal opinions on thumb sucking.  I've noticed that people just trudge right on in to uninvited territory to say, you're too old to be sucking your thumb or stop that.  We just look at the offender like they're a fool.  And they are.  Because offering an opinion when no one cares what you think--evidenced by the fact that they didn't ask-- is synonymous with foolery.  Typically I want to offer them a warm glass of shut the hell up or quip off some uninvited advice of my own: yeah, you're too old to be tanning and orange isn't a good color for skin anyway... or  maybe you should try thumb sucking instead of smoking, drinking, overeating or whatever... or Hey there Stranger, thanks for the ten second voluntary parenting tip, but no thanks. Really.  

But then I remember that 

a) mean is ugly
b) I need to treat people the way I want to be treated

c) responses like that are not representative of my best self      

d) it's best to respond with the truth in love

So, I end up saying (with a smile!) something along the lines of you know, we're not worried about it, so you don't need to be either... or he'll know when it's the right time to stop sucking his thumb... or my husband sucked his thumb when he was a kid and he's an awesome guy, so pretty sure, he'll be just fine too. 

Sounds much better than shut the hell up, right?

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So me and my cute lil' thumb sucker move right along happy and carefree as ever.  And then later on I started to wonder: Why do we think we have the right to tell someone else-- who we are not in charge of-- what to do?  While I am a fan of encouragement and challenge even (when relationship warrants it and it is absolutely necessary) I do not believe we have the right to verbalize indignation and concern over the personal preferences of another, especially when these personal preferences are not hurting or infringing upon the rights of others.  When and why did we stop taking the time to care, question and perhaps understand rather than make swift comments and  harsh judgments about such trivial matters?  It's foolywank.  So please, let's stop offering our uninvited opinions and stop attempting to boss the lives of others, which will help us all look a little less foolish, really. What do you say we all get outraged, undignified, bossy and nosey about the things that actually matter like poverty, prejudice, sickness, disease, and injustice?  United we could do so much to exact change in a positive and meaningful way.  I wholeheartedly believe we could make a difference where it counts, and if a thumb sucker is in our midst, so be it.  

naming things

I really like to name inanimate objects.  Been doing this my whole life.  I have named every car I ever owned:

Dakota 
Piccolo ("pick-uh-low") 
Isabelle 
Bruno 
Bella 
Big Blue (this name came with the car, actually)
Bessie
Moose
Charles Xavier
Lucypearl

I even nicknamed two of Neighbor's cars:
Delores
Comanche



I also nickname my favorite people:

Mig
Wee
Sithy
Neighbor
Mendell
Reet
A.Y.A
CUZIN
Muffy

This list is not comprehensive because there are too many names to list; however, these names may come from shortened or extended versions of original names. Sometimes I add an extra syllable or make up a new name altogether. I may call them by their last name, first and last name or first name with a faux middle name (usually Lee, June or Mae).  Why do I do this?  Because...

Nicknames are love.  

when god bless you goes wrong

I have noticed an oddly disturbing, awkwardly interesting trend.  People throwing a fit, acting a fool, lashing out or just being plain hateful and then tacking a good ol' God bless you at the end.  I don't have a problem with people throwing fits as I have been know to throw my own from time to time, and hey, we all act a fool now and again.  Lashing out and being hateful can happen to the best of us if the irritations align just right.  To have our differences, air our grievances and live with the consequences, this is just part of the human experience, I guess; however, tacking God bless onto the end of such foolishness is what I find to be intolerable.  "I don't like you.  I never did and you smell like poop, so stay away from me.  Forever.  God bless." 

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Can we stop doing that already? If someone smells like poop, talk about it, deal with it, offer soap, deodorant or whatever.  Address the issue.   And if you can't, agree to disagree and keep on truckin'.  There is no need to do life with people who irk the dickens out of you or insist on rocking the stink.  And by all means, if you aren't received, shake the dust off your feet and keep it moving, but in the name of all things holy, do not tell somebody off and then throw in a God bless at the end for some semblance of good measure.  Keep the faux-grace.  Why?  I don't know... maybe because telling people off and God bless you don't go together.  Or perhaps that God bless you makes vitriolic comments seem justified and palatable.  A faux God bless you takes the ugliest behavior and attempts to pass it off as sanctified.   So please, save the God bless you for a truly sincere, loving and heartfelt expression.  You know, one that is not  crass, caustic, and childish with rapid-fire emotionalism on display.  Let's work through our differences with a deep reserve of love and respect, patience, an openness to seeing the other point of view, and mindfulness.  Because really, to say God bless you is to say, You are God's child and you are loved.  And something about that statement just does not mix well with an attempt to rip someone to shreds. I love you and God bless!!! (hahahahaha I HAD TO!!!) 

But really, God bless.  

dear daylight savings time, you suck

Can anyone tell me why in THE hell we still carry on with this Fall back and Spring forward nonsense?  It's 2am and I'm sitting here wide awake.  (sidenote: I did accidentally drink an iced coffee around 8:45pm which has further exacerbated the situation.) Feels like I read somewhere that all this time travelling changing is to help the farmers.  You know, give them maximum daylight hours for sowing and reaping. And if that is the case, well, OK because I love to eat and I sure do appreciate the farmers who help to make that  happen.  But so help me sweet baby Jesus, if there is no doggone good reason for this chronological tomfoolery, I am going to do something like move to Arizona because at least there they have sense enough to leave time the hell alone.  

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