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


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…


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.


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.


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.


364 Days

Dear Mom,

It’s been a year without you now. People are right, grieving does get easier with time. I have quit reaching for the phone to call you whenever something good, funny, sad, or frustrating happens in my life. I know that you’re not going to be there on the other end of the phone anymore, a habit that took me months to break.  I know that the last thing you would have wanted was for me and Dad to stop living, and to be honest, for a while we did. It took several months for us to start living again in stages.


My first step was quitting the job that had ceased to make me happy, the one that was slowly draining the life from me. I am so much happier with my current job, and making slow and steady progress there. It had been too long since I was happy with myself at work.

My second step was following one of my dreams and writing a book; I hope to God I’m not done with writing yet…

The third step was travel. I finally made it to Ireland, and fell in love with a country and its people. I am ready to go back tomorrow if I could…

The fourth step was letting Daddy know that its okay to live, to create new memories and (hopefully) make new friends, try new things.

While this year has been a challenge of adjusting to the new reality, I did it, and I know you’d be happy for it.

I miss you. I love you.



Love Remembers

Does anyone else go through waves of things to say? I’ll hit a point where I have so much that I want to write down and share, and sometimes I do, but then there are other times when I don’t. And then there are times when I wish I had something to say, but my my mind is nothing more than the shifting sand dunes of the Sahara Desert. Wait a second, if this is my blog, and I have stuff that I want to say, then why would I want to sit on it, not share it when so much of my post is unfiltered and personal? That’s a good question, and one I am still working on. I’ll try to explain here in a bit.


This week is bound to be a stress filled, emotional, anxiety driven week for this gal. Today, November 10, is my parents 51 wedding anniversary… Another in this shitty year of firsts that my family is dealing with after the loss of my Mama. Daddy has gone back to Georgia to be with her mother, and to visit Mama’s grave. I have to stop there because I’m now blurry and teary eyed.


I think I’m better now? I guess we will see as I keep writing. The stress and anxiety part of the week for me comes on Tuesday when that little dream I decided to make come true when I wrote about it (see here). That dream, and my first ever novella called Cold Heat goes live for sale then. Will keep writing, I have more stories inside me that I want to tell, and I know that I will improve with every word, paragraph, and story that I write.


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The last thing about this week? Well, I flip to a new number on my odometer on Friday… Yep, it clicks over to to 44. I’m not sad about this (or not too much, anyway) because the alternative to aging is not. I only wish I didn’t suddenly see so much evidence of the wear and tear of the years spread across my face.


There you have it. Until next time 😉




Live Bold

First, a little bit of a “Hurrah!” (in a completely nerdy way) because I am now the proud owner of the domain name, which will, I hope, make finding me and my posts here a little easier. *Like I said, a bit nerdy*


Second, I was thinking today about things, too many things to be able to fully wrap my brain around. Things and thoughts about the past and how muchI hope I have grown in the nearly a year since I started this blog. Thinking about how last summer it was solely created to focus on my quest to lose the excess fat and become a health and fit woman in her 40’s, and all my struggles with that quest from too much motivation and excitement, to far too little as I burned myself out in a short time. My blog them morphed into something that was still me, and perhaps a deeper look into the real me as I expounded on whatever came into my mind while my family was facing one of the most important and then most devastating battles we have had to face while my Mother was diagnosed with, fought with everything she had in her, and then too shortly after her diagnosis lost her battle with breast cancer. The words that flowed from my fingers onto the screen of my laptop were one of the greatest coping mechanisms I had, and I had hoped that while I was expressing my grief and all of the cycles one goes through (and I am still working through) that I would say something that someone would relate to, and maybe breathe a little easier knowing that some, if not all, of the stuff they are working through is being shared by someone else. They, you, are not alone. It happened again, for the better I hope? My words and thoughts, there is that thinking again, they transformed into more of the same randomness, but this time I am trying to focus on positives, on encouraging words when I know I need them most, and again, perhaps, someone else needs them too. Now, after having thought all my thoughts on that, and asking a couple of my friends who read my words and random thoughts, I have decided to keep on with my current blog platform that will include the random thoughts and words, plus my renewed quest for health.


The third think that I had/ have circling in my brain is my ongoing quest to, well, not better myself per se, but to better myself to the point where I start to  push my own boundaries and live a little bit bolder. My two youtube songs… My love for singing, good, bad, or ugly, I may just keep putting myself out there with my own musical stylings, Carpe Diem, and all that. Dance lessons, not just any dance lessons, but ballroom lessons. As a single. Need to find the courage to walk into that first lesson alone, and I will, because I want to live bolder. My last thing towards living bolder is writing. No, not just my blog, but putting an actual story onto paper (and hope it doesn’t suck!), but whether it does or not, at the end I will be able to claim “I did it!” and it it the sum of all these little “I did its!” that will help me to live bold, and isn’t that the point of living anyhow?