Category Archives: perspective

The Warrior

I have never been one to shy away from supporting the men and women who, not fearlessly, but bravely put their lives on the line every day for this great country. But with age comes wisdom and insight, and I no longer look at Memorial Day as “the end of the school year” and “the start of summer.” It is not a day only for hamburgers and hot dogs, or whatever you cook on the grill in celebration.

Memorial Day should always be remembered for exactly what it is, a day to pause and remember those who sacrificed so much, the very most that they could for us. It’s about the Warrior. For you. And for me. It is a day where we should gather and celebrate these lives which we never knew. And remember the families and friends that they left behind.

There is a line in the movie, a true story, Taking Chance, that honestly kinda drummed this in to me. Lt. Col. Michael Strobl wrote of his experience escorting Private First Class Chance Phelps, saying that “I thought that as long as he was still moving, he was still alive. But as they placed him over his grave, he had suddenly stopped moving.” To hear more of this quote, click here.

It really does not matter to me what country you are reading this in, we all have these heroes, and these days. Whether Remembrance Day, ANZAC Day, Volkstrauertag, it does not matter. We all should pause, and remember why we have what we have. This nation has shed blood all over the world, helping, protecting, guarding anyone who needed our help. Please, remember them this Memorial Day.

 

 

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#ImNoAngel

I had a dream the other night, one that had the sleeping me feeling so light and joyous, so much so that after I woke and cleared the cobwebs from my brain, I was still feeling the lingering happiness from it. I remember smiling as I swung my legs out of bed, my feet hitting the floor before starting my morning. I don’t know if anyone else has ever experienced a dream as completely as I did that night? I can only hope that you have, or will.

What was the dream? (It’s going to sound very narcissistic, but I promise its not!) I was, in my dream, my minds eye, so happy and thrilled with the look, share, and contours of my body, but most especially my stomach. The dream me had a flatter stomach, shapely thighs, and a waist that curved the way it’s supposed to.

After my feet hit the floor, still riding on that sleep high, I walked into the bathroom and turned on the light, looking at myself critically. The difference was, this time I was more accepting of myself. Was this a result of the dream? Or was it a result of a challenge that a friend gives me every once in a while while we are at lunch, having me name one thing I love about myself that day? Or was it me finally listening to my own words that I share with others, trying to get them to change their way of thinking? I don’t know. Was I happy with my body when I looked in the mirror that morning? No, not 100%. I know I have room for improvement, but its nice to not be as repulsed as I once was. I am still a work in progress.

Then this morning, checking my email before crawling out of bed to start my day, there was an email from Lane Bryant with their new campaign, #ImNoAngel, designed to represent the beautiful, amazing, real, average woman whose size falls in the spectrum larger than a 10. The #ImNoAngel message was beautiful put:

Some say

That sexy is defined

In just one way

But I say

It’s how I feel

It’s who I am

I’m all woman

A symbol of confidence

Who writes her own rules

And sometimes breaks them too

I’m beautiful

From my soul out to my skin

Loving every part of me

No matter what I’m in

I’m a woman

Unique and complete

I break the mold

Throw out the old

I’m all kinds of sexy

Movin’ On

Sometimes I wonder if Julie Andrews was right when,  from high atop a mountaintop in Austria, arms spread wide, she sings, “Climb every mountain, search high and low, follow every by way, every path you know… ”

I’ve talked in past blogs (I think) that a lot of life is based on perspective. A good friend of mine was advised to try and change perspective instead of letting things bother them so much. And they tried to, succeeding more often than not, but it seemed that finally the ability to change perspective just gets to be too much, that there are nor other options. No other glasses to look through. No kaleidoscope to peer through in hopes of seeing something -anything- better than it is.

You’ve lived on this mountain, trying everything to see better. You keep climbing up it, fighting battles, weathering all types of storms along the way. You either make it to the top, or you just know that that climb is too difficult.  Sometimes when you get to that point, at least to my way of thinking, its time to take drastic changes. If you don’t like the view that you have where you’re standing at, maybe its time to move to a new mountain.

You have the ability to change what you see, and how you see it. If you’re not happy, your friends will try their damnedest to cheer you up, but more often than not, the change, or choice, to be happy resides in you.  Is it easy? Nope. Is it scary? Hell, yes. Are you with taking the chance on? Absolutely. Go for it!7b7440cc3ac22a93fc7fbd164437f060

Masks II

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I’m a coward. Oh, I’m full of big talk when other people need my help, ask my opinion, or just need a good shoulder to lean on and an ear to listen, but when it comes to letting people know me? Not the top layer, but the real me that lies deep below the surface? Oh, no, I can’t let people get to know the real me. What will they think? Will they like this me? Hell, most of the time I don’t like that me, why would I ever think someone else would? I keep her hidden under so many masks that make up small parts of me…

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I know that the different masks that I hide behind are all parts of me, little snippets that I share here and there when I am finally comfortable enough with someone to let them in. I have a mask that I wear for my family, it’s one that is supposed to remain strong, that hides the fears and sorrows that I don’t want to share. This mask is made of a thick clay. It has survived so much, but like anything else, with time it has begun to crack, and I fear what will happen if it one day falls apart.

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Another mask that I wear, one that more people are getting to see and know, is my mask of creativity. Again, those damn insecurities about my writing, my singing, my expressionism, they hide behind a mask that is thin, like fine china, where you can see the light shining through it. It wouldn’t take much to break that one.

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The top most mask is the one I share with everyone. Only a select few get beneath this one. It is my shield. My line of defense against everything that comes at me. It holds truths about me, but it guards so many more. 9d31cb97bb2b71021afba95b798e41b2

How do I decide who to share the truth with? Oddly enough, the anonymity of this blog has been the most telling and revealing of the real, raw me there is. Its in writing this that I am trying to love myself. I remember writing enough blog post about masks over a year ago, and when I was rereading it just now, its odd to see how little has changed, and what masks I still hide behind. You can read that earlier post here. I try to face the darkness that hides in me, facing it dead on , and sharing it.

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How Do You See Things?

You know how sometimes you are so… off keel, that no matter how hard you try, nothing ever seems to work the right way? Nothing anyone says to you helps, in fact it only serves to push you closer to the edge of screaming than before? No matter how hard you try to get everything on your to-do list done, but so many other people or things force their way to the top of your list, to the point that, at the end of the day you feel like the white rabbit in Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland saying, “The hurrier I go, the behinder I get?” What if all it takes to get through those times is a new perspective?

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It took a moment of honest truth from a friend to make me realize that what I’m seeing might not be what’s really going on. Is it possible that I’m misinterpreting everything? Okay, yes, its very possible. But the realization is not without cost because now I have to remind myself that,  what I hear is not necessarily what is being said. It’s like trying to break a bad habit in myself… A near impossible feat.

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An artist can create perspective with the slash of a pencil, charcoal, or brush, changing how we see something, making it seem farther away, or nearer than it actually is. If you let things build higher and higher in your mind, eventually it’s going to topple like the tower in the game Jenga, and when it topples, it’ll take you with it. Its time to step back and look at it again with that new perspective, Its time to take control of your own life again.

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