If Ignorance Is Bliss, Am I Too Smart to Be Happy?

I hesitated to write this post because I know how cocky it may make me seem. (Of course, if you know me, you probably already use that word to describe me. Ha.) Plus, it practically begs others to catch me in the middle of some stupid mistake. 


But, I happened to be on www.dictionary.com and wouldn't you know it? This is the word of the day:

 OBSCURANTISM      opposition to the increase and spread of knowledge

So, now I figure it's some grand sign from the universe or something. <smirk>


Let me make this much clear from the beginning: my frustrations do not stem from the idea that I'm just so much smarter than the general population that I can hardly tolerate others. Rather, I'm well aware that, while I am indeed intelligent, I'm certainly not the smartest person in existence. There are soooo many people who are brilliant compared to me. 


This is the very reason that I'm baffled about how things that seem so obvious to me (a barely above-average person) are apparently difficult for others to grasp. 


I recently came to this realization: Ignorance is not the same thing as stupidity. Ignorance is a lack of knowledge whereas stupidity is the inability to learn. (Or, at least, the inability to learn easily.)


So now I think my irritation does not come from believing there are too many stupid people in the world. Instead, I think there are too many lazy people. That's right, too many people who are too apathetic to educate themselves.


Apparently it's just convenient to not be knowledgeable (thus the bliss - without working towards something, you're basically on a perpetual vacation from reality). There seems to be this common belief that being uninformed somehow absolves one of personal responsibility. 


Um, that's not how it works. You can throw all of your bills into the trash without opening them, but that doesn't change the debt you owe. 


(And, ahem, if you're alive then you owe something good to the world. We all should be contributing.)


Perhaps, it's because I've spent the last year working in a customer-service-type position that my frustrations have escalated. While I have the pleasure of interacting with many pleasant people, I'm also exposed to a vast number of less-than-charming and idiotic people. 


Some particularly annoying things happen a little too frequently. For example, there is a form patients fill out that asks this optional question: What is your religion? 


The list includes Catholic and Protestant. Too often, the patient looks at me and says, "Uh, I'm a Christian. Why isn't that on here?" And then eventually I hear this statement, "But I'm Baptist (or Methodist, Pentecostal, etc) not Protestant."


Now, do I expect everybody to know that Baptist is a denomination under the Protestant religion? Nope. But if you're going to consider yourself a die-hard Christian, dedicated to a certain belief system associated with the title Baptist/Methodist/Pentecostal/whatever, and especially if you're going to go around touting that you have Jesus, so you have all the answers... then YES, I expect you to know what the fuck you're talking about. And that most certainly includes knowing the very basics of your religion of choice.


This is a minor thing. My real grievance is with the world at large. Because the world is an illogical place - and I plead with someone to prove me wrong.


Why are there so many kind and wholesome women who struggle to get pregnant only to then miscarry four times when there are other women who have four abortions in a matter of three years because they're too lazy to use actual birth control?


Why is it illegal in this country to drive, smoke, drink or join the military before a certain age, but the government will pay for a teenage girl to give birth to a child she will neither love nor take proper care of? 


Why do people seem to think it's okay for a wealthy celebrity to pay over ten million dollars for a wedding (and then get divorced two months later!) when there is so much hunger and disease in the world? I believe in enjoying life, but I'm not okay with blatant disregard to the current human existence. I do no care how much of your wealth you already donate to charity - it is not acceptable to spend that disgusting amount of money on a single luxurious event when there is still so much suffering in the world.


I know this post is... depressing. But sometimes the frustration in my mind and the heavy feeling in my chest is too much to keep inside. These are the things that keep me up at night - and understandably so. When your eyes are wide-open, how can you sleep?


Writing (and, yes, sarcasm) is my weapon of defense.

*As you can see, I've always had this little smirk*

If Ignorance Is Bliss, Am I Too Smart to Be Happy?

I hesitated to write this post because I know how cocky it may make me seem. (Of course, if you know me, you probably already use that word to describe me. Ha.) Plus, it practically begs others to catch me in the middle of some stupid mistake. 


But, I happened to be on www.dictionary.com and wouldn't you know it? This is the word of the day:

 OBSCURANTISM      opposition to the increase and spread of knowledge

So, now I figure it's some grand sign from the universe or something. <smirk>


Let me make this much clear from the beginning: my frustrations do not stem from the idea that I'm just so much smarter than the general population that I can hardly tolerate others. Rather, I'm well aware that, while I am indeed intelligent, I'm certainly not the smartest person in existence. There are soooo many people who are brilliant compared to me. 


This is the very reason that I'm baffled about how things that seem so obvious to me (a barely above-average person) are apparently difficult for others to grasp. 


I recently came to this realization: Ignorance is not the same thing as stupidity. Ignorance is a lack of knowledge whereas stupidity is the inability to learn. (Or, at least, the inability to learn easily.)


So now I think my irritation does not come from believing there are too many stupid people in the world. Instead, I think there are too many lazy people. That's right, too many people who are too apathetic to educate themselves.


Apparently it's just convenient to not be knowledgeable (thus the bliss - without working towards something, you're basically on a perpetual vacation from reality). There seems to be this common belief that being uninformed somehow absolves one of personal responsibility. 


Um, that's not how it works. You can throw all of your bills into the trash without opening them, but that doesn't change the debt you owe. 


(And, ahem, if you're alive then you owe something good to the world. We all should be contributing.)


Perhaps, it's because I've spent the last year working in a customer-service-type position that my frustrations have escalated. While I have the pleasure of interacting with many pleasant people, I'm also exposed to a vast number of less-than-charming and idiotic people. 


Some particularly annoying things happen a little too frequently. For example, there is a form patients fill out that asks this optional question: What is your religion? 


The list includes Catholic and Protestant. Too often, the patient looks at me and says, "Uh, I'm a Christian. Why isn't that on here?" And then eventually I hear this statement, "But I'm Baptist (or Methodist, Pentecostal, etc) not Protestant."


Now, do I expect everybody to know that Baptist is a denomination under the Protestant religion? Nope. But if you're going to consider yourself a die-hard Christian, dedicated to a certain belief system associated with the title Baptist/Methodist/Pentecostal/whatever, and especially if you're going to go around touting that you have Jesus, so you have all the answers... then YES, I expect you to know what the fuck you're talking about. And that most certainly includes knowing the very basics of your religion of choice.


This is a minor thing. My real grievance is with the world at large. Because the world is an illogical place - and I plead with someone to prove me wrong.


Why are there so many kind and wholesome women who struggle to get pregnant only to then miscarry four times when there are other women who have four abortions in a matter of three years because they're too lazy to use actual birth control?


Why is it illegal in this country to drive, smoke, drink or join the military before a certain age, but the government will pay for a teenage girl to give birth to a child she will neither love nor take proper care of? 


Why do people seem to think it's okay for a wealthy celebrity to pay over ten million dollars for a wedding (and then get divorced two months later!) when there is so much hunger and disease in the world? I believe in enjoying life, but I'm not okay with blatant disregard to the current human existence. I do no care how much of your wealth you already donate to charity - it is not acceptable to spend that disgusting amount of money on a single luxurious event when there is still so much suffering in the world.


I know this post is... depressing. But sometimes the frustration in my mind and the heavy feeling in my chest is too much to keep inside. These are the things that keep me up at night - and understandably so. When your eyes are wide-open, how can you sleep?


Writing (and, yes, sarcasm) is my weapon of defense.

*As you can see, I've always had this little smirk*

The Truth's Quirks

The truth hurts.

So... either I have an unusually high level of pain tolerance or I get some kind of minute amount of pleasure from pain - because I have an obsession with the truth.

See, I'm that chick who could handle being cheated on or stolen from without flinching but can't stand being lied to about it. It's not those actions that would get to me as much as the deception. I guess it's because it insults my intelligence, and that annoys me more than most things.

I also have pretty decent intuition. So what happens is if I suspect you aren't being completely forthright about how you feel/why you feel/what you've done/why you've done it and so, I'll push and push until I hear you say it.

And let me just tell ya, it's exhausting. Most people are lying to themselves so it's extremely difficult to be honest with someone else.

Now, am I suggesting that my love for the truth means I never lie? Yup.
(Ahem, that was a lie.)

However, I am indeed quite truthful and this has gotten me in trouble on numerous occasions. The thing is, I feel like if I can admit to being clumsy and sometimes abrasively direct and sarcastic and dramatic at times, I think it gives me permission to point out when you're being a control freak or overly sensitive or if the pants you're wearing are completely unflattering. (Let me clarify, though, this isn't information that I'll necessarily volunteer; I'll just be honest if you ask - or if you provoke me.)

Shockingly, this doesn't always go over well.

(And let me also add that my truthfulness does not just include negative things. I don't mind telling you when your girlfriend looks hot in that dress or if the job you just landed suits your talents.)

Where am I going with all of this? Well, lately I've discovered something that has been... well, a hard truth. It turns out that sometimes the truth is just as much emotional as it is factual. And that makes it complicated. That means the truth isn't flawless and that, to be blunt, it's quirky.

I'll use the *awesome* show True Blood as an example. (Not just because the title of the show itself is perfect for this post, heehee.) I love and adore Bill - and I was well aware that things were never really "over" between him and our darling heroin -- but, damn, was I thrilled when Sookie finally hooked up with Eric (and admitted the attraction that was there all along).
*I'm not even going to bring Alcide into the picture at this point. Whew.

Yeah, it's TV but life it full of situations like that (minus the biting and crazy-powerful blood, but you know what I mean). That's why "love triangle" is such a common term and theme. Yes, you can truly have feelings for more than one person just like you can truly have a friend that you simultaneously love and hate. You can have more than one motivation for your actions - I'd venture to say that's the case most of the time, actually.

I'm writing this mostly to myself, as a reminder to go easier on people when it comes to my investigation of the extreme truth. Why? Because most people can't handle the truth.

It's too much work. I've got to breathe a little easier and channel my energy into the situations that really matter.

And I've come to this conclusion: The truth is not black and white or even shades of grey. It is simply a piercing white (hear me out; I'm not being racist) that is in actuality made up of a spectrum of colors. For some people, it is easier to focus on a single hue. Lucky for me, I can handle - and prefer - looking into the intensity of that bright light that encompasses the full rainbow.

Re-Lie-Able

I've got two types of people in my life:

the reliable ones 

and

those who are able to lie repeatedly 

What sucks is that I seem to have a whole lot more of the latter than the former. I can name several people who are charming and funny and smart, whose company I simply adore. The problem is, I never can count on actually having their company. (Which is kind of ridiculous, because I'm pretty damn charming and funny and smart myself.)

I can't even count the number of times I've made plans to meet someone for lunch or for shopping or for a movie... and then had that someone send a text or call at the last minute to say he/she is not coming because of same random lame-ass excuse (I'm tired... I forgot...I just met the hottest guy ever... my ex just stopped by to talk...). Or WORSE he/she is doesn't even bother to contact me at all!

It's not that I have an issue being alone - I can rock a table of one, no problem. It just blows my mind, because I simply can't fathom doing that to someone. If I make plans to do something with you, I'm going to do everything I can to keep our arrangement. And if for some reason I can't, I'm sure as hell going to give you as much notice as possible... and I'm going to be pretty apologetic about canceling (especially if I'm aware of the trouble you've gone through to get off work or to spend your gas money or arrange for a sitter, etc).

If you have a major event coming up (birthday, graduation, wedding, the birth of your child...) you can generally count on me to be there. For those of you who can't say the same, I'm actually a little jealous of your ability to be so self-centered.

Yeah, that sounds a little harsh, but I mean it. Partially, because it irritates the hell out of me when somebody says he/she is going to do something or be somewhere, when he/she knows from the very beginning it's untrue. But secondly, I've realized something. Yes, part of the reason I'm going to be there for you is because I care about you and support you; it's how I show my love. But it's also not about you at all - it's because of who I am. I'm just the dependable sort. (Sure, I've got a series of flaws, but unreliability ain't one of them.)

Because of realizing this, I've had to change some things. I've literally had to refrain from being "too supportive." I think sometimes my friends don't want me to drive three hours to be at their 4-year-old's birthday party, because it puts pressure on them to do the same... and they know in their heart, it simply isn't going to happen. It doesn't mean they don't care about me; they'd just prefer to keep in touch with me through Facebook.
(If you really really do want me there, just say so!)

For those of you who remember my birthday, don't bail on me at the last minute, who'd never dream of saying  you're going to be somewhere and leave me searching for your presence... for those of you who have rescued me from sucky situations at your own inconvenience... god, I love you! I'm so grateful to have you in my life -and shame on me if I've ever made you feel under-appreciated.

You're my <delicious> cake batter; everyone else is just a sprinkle. :)   

 For those of you who are genuinely hurt or annoyed by this blog, I'm sorry. But if you have the right to be unreliable and still consider yourself my friend, I have the right to bitch about it and still be your friend ;) XOXO

Oh Hoppy Day, Mommy

A couple of mornings ago Gavin (my clearly very intelligent 2-year-old) climbed into my bed and tapped me on the shoulder. I opened my eyes slowly and he grinned.

"Mommy, what's a cow say?" He whispered.When I didn't respond immediately, he answered, "Moooo!"

A moment later he asks, "Momma, what's a dinosaur say?" I yawned. He continued with a "Rawr!!"

Just as I was closing my eyes again he says, "Mommy, what's a bunny say?"


This time I opened my eyes, puzzled. What does a bunny "say"?? 


Without missing a beat he responds, "Oh hoppy day!"

(That's right, he's TWO. Does he even get the joke? I'm not sure... but he sure gets comedic points in my book.)

I've been giggling for days now, every time I replay that moment in my head. There's no way to deny it, one of the most exhilarating days of my existence was when that little boy arrived... and the days have been pretty "hoppy" ever since.

Especially since I've been working at an OB/GYN office, I've noticed pregnancy and  childbirth are the perfect parallel to what motherhood is like. You're going to grow and change, everything that you're used to will be stretched and you won't always like the results.

You'll be exhausted and nauseated at times, but you're only real concern is not about you at all - you want to feel the baby move, hear the racing heartbeat within your belly, see a tiny face on a black and white screen, hear that first irritated cry, see that beautifully misshapen head emerge from your body and put on your chest...

There are always going to be moments of intense pain and fear and panic - when you love someone that deeply, those emotions are unavoidable. But as cliche' as it is, you really do forget those excruciating moments as soon as you know your child is safe. It's a unique relationship and it certainly deserves to be acknowledged.

To all the mommies out there, and especially to my own: Don't forget that you may be the one and only person in your child's life who is capable of loving him/her unconditionally. You may not always be properly acknowledged, but your role is incredibly significant. May the things you've done "right" outweigh any poor decisions and may you receive a love that comes close to matching what you give.

Oh, hoppy Mommies Day, ladies!! 

(**Thank you Ashton, Brianna and Gavin for making my life waaaay more meaningful**)
(Mom, I know I can reveal anything about myself and you'll accept me no matter what - thank you, I love you! Ma Cat, you did what you could with what you had - I know it was never easy. Thanks u xoxo! Annetti, you're a good mother. Thanks for embracing me.)

Can You Feel This?

It was like there was sandpaper on the roof of her mouth making each word that came out sound scratchy and weak. But she couldn’t afford that; it was time to be strong.

          “You’re not supposed to be here, Timothy.”

          “Julie-”

          “I asked you not to come back.”

She turned her cheek against the pillow and studied the tension evident in his back muscles as he sat on the very edge of the bed with his head down. After a moment he stood, faced her. She watched his chest expand with a deep breath. He toyed with the bed knob, drawing tiny circles on its surface.

“Let’s just talk.”

“We’ve been through this, for months now. I can’t talk to you anymore.” Julie shook her head vehemently. “I can’t, Timothy.” Her hands remained folded, politely resting on her stomach.

“Why?”

“Because I have too much to say.”

She could see the disappointment circling his pupils. She understood the despair that caused his brow to crease. Every part of her ached to console him, to make it all better.

Well, not every part of her ached, she reminded herself bitterly. Some parts of her simply felt nothing.

One by one all the reasons they couldn’t be together anymore streamed through her mind, agonizing pieces of information she could not get past or ignore. The rims of her eyelids began to twitch and burn with unreleased emotion.

She would not cry.

Even though her eyelashes might go up in flames at any moment, she would not cry.

With long strides Timothy crossed the room headed for the door. Julie held her breath. How could she so desperately want someone to leave and stay simultaneously?

“Damn it, Julie!” He slammed his fist into the doorframe, making her flinch. Somehow, in some sick twisted manner, it gave her hope. “I just don’t understand… how could you… why won’t you..?”

When he turned to face her again she saw that, unlike her, his resolve was melting down his cheeks. His voice became low, childlike. “If you don’t want my heart anymore why won’t you just give it back?”

Her rib might as well have punctured her heart. Love came gushing out, painful and sticky, coating her insides, seeping out of her pores. “I’m trying to.”

Timothy rushed to her side, sitting on the bed with one arm poised across her body. He peered into her eyes as if he could some how hypnotize her into changing her mind.

She looked away from his gaze. “I can’t bear you children.”

“You don’t know that for sure yet. And so what? I’ll have you; we’ll have each other. And we could always adopt if we really wanted kids.”

It was the same argument he always gave. She looked down to see that he had moved his hand from the mattress onto her lower torso. His thumb stroked her hipbone softly, tenderly. She could almost feel it. Almost wasn’t enough.

To her demise her lips tasted salty when she continued her argument. “Timothy, we can’t make love.”

“Fine. We don’t need to make something we already have.”

A trembling hand came to her throat. Oh, god, how she wanted to believe him. But how could half a woman be enough for man so great?

“Sometimes I think…” Her voice came out in a whisper. “Sometimes I think my heart is overcompensating for what I can’t feel below the waist anymore.”

Timothy pressed his lips against the edge of her jawbone just below her ear. “Can you feel this?”

“Y-yes.”

“And this?” He made a slow trail of gentle kisses from her neck past her collarbone until he rested between her breasts where her heart pulsed dramatically. Each time he paused to ask, “Can you feel this?”

She gazed down at him, sadness tainting her pleasure.

“Julie?”

“Timothy?”

Several long quiet moments passed. He outlined a heart on her chest.

“I’ll leave, I’ll go without looking back, the day you don’t feel anything right here, beneath your skin and any stupid nerve endings. And there’s nothing you can do to make me leave before then…” He smiled. “You certainly can’t kick me out, now can you?”

Slowly, Julie smiled back.

Kind of Nice

How you treat other people is more about who YOU are and less about the other people.
I'm sure I'm not the first person to say that, but I've realized it's pretty freakin' true.

It's obviously not good to be mean to others, so I want to focus on the difference in being nice and being kind. I mean, nice people are cool... they're polite, they tolerate others, they're... nice. But kindness surpasses niceness.

Forgive me, I've been too lazy (or, ahem, reallllly busy) to do the in-depth research about the root of the word "kind", but it seems like it is somehow related to words like "kin, kindred" etc. That's how I got my little epiphany.

When you are kind to someone, you are saying "I recognize we are kindred, we are related, we are of the same kind." It's looking beyond age, gender, race, sexual orientation and every other possible difference and acknowledging that we are all connected.

When I looked up "kind" in the thesaurus, "nice" wasn't even listed as a synonym! Niceness may tolerate you, but kindness accepts you... loves you because you are family.

Kindness is putting namaste into action. 

Happy 25

I have never understood a person who doesn't like to celebrate his birthday or a woman who is ashamed of her age. Sure, it's just another day - nothing miraculous happens at midnight or anything. Still - it's the one day a year when the people around you are supposed to stop and remember why they are grateful you're here. It's not about celebrating a day; it's about celebrating YOU. And, why the hell should you be ashamed of your age?? At one point did that ever make sense? Especially if you're taking care of yourself - you should be proud to look good and be knowledgeable at whatever age you are.

Well I turn 25 today and I woke up feeling... beautiful... whole... happy.

It's not that I no longer screw up or make mistakes. It's just that I'm capable of receiving criticism (constructive or not). I'm not afraid to take responsibility for my actions and I know how to make a genuine apology.

It's not that my legs grew longer or my boobs got bigger. I've just realized that my body is beautiful as is, so I take care of it and appreciate it. Somewhere along the way small became lovely and short became sexy.

It's not that I've had my novel published and now I feel affirmed. It's just that I have learned that I am a writer, published or not, and I'm confident in submitting my work.

It's not that all of my relationships are smooth and easy. I've just figured out that the ones that are worth it are worthy of dealing with the rough and bumpy parts. And I know now that I'M worth it- I deserve to be loved not just when I do something right, but when I'm struggling too. 

It's not that I think I have a superior relationship with God. It's just that I know that my spirituality cannot be determined by anyone else. There is something I feel beneath my skin in the space that links my heart to my belly button that makes me know I am loved, I am connected... and I am not afraid.

I woke up today feeling beautiful, whole... and happy. Happy birthday to me.

Using the Right Kind of Light

The dark can be scary and intimidating. Especially if you're alone. (Then again, maybe it's worse if you're NOT alone... I mean, who wants to be left in the dark with a serial killer??)

Anyway, if you're the one in the dark, it's a big relief for someone to shed some light. The thing is, depending on where you are and what you're doing, the type of light matters significantly. Sometimes plugging in a little night-light is the perfect solution. It brightens the room a bit so you don't have to worry so much about the unknown, but doesn't keep you from resting.

Sometimes a flashlight is the right tool - it lets you see your path without disturbing someone else. And if you feel the need to alert others of what you see, flip the light switch and illuminate the whole room.

Now, there are occasions that demand a spotlight, but those times are sparse - and it's almost NEVER  a good idea to throw a spotlight on someone who's been in the dark. It can be downright cruel. His/her eyes won't have time to adjust... a light so intense won't help him/her, but will only cause pain and panic.
(Really, think about it. What's the first thing a person does when a bright light is suddenly thrown on his face? CLOSES his eyes - now, who does that help? ... And how often does someone flinch when a candle is lit?)

The other thing about putting a spotlight on someone? It leaves YOU in the dark.

Yup, this is all a big metaphor. I like to assume you get it, but just for the record: Don't push so hard for someone else to see things the way you do. Even if you are doing it out of genuine concern... because if you DO sincerely care, you'll want to take the more effective approach. Usually that means "little by little" and not "a lot at once."

Slow Dancing in a Burning Room (John Mayer)

I don't care what you think of his voice or his personal life (as if you really even know him), you have to recognize how incredibly talented John Mayer is when it comes to writing lyrics. Here are some of my fave excerpts:

Pretty much the entire song for Slow Dancing in a Burning Room lol
   "It's not a silly little moment; it's not the storm before the calm. This is the deep and dying breath of the love we've been working on.
    "Can't seem to hold you like I want to so I can feel you in my arms. Nobody's gonna come and save you - we've pulled too many false alarms.
    "We're going down and you can see it too. We're going down and you know that we're doomed. My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room..."

OMG!! Is there a more beautiful way to say "Hey, babe, I know we still love each other but it's over."??

Heartbreak Warfare:
   "Drop his name. Push it in and twist the knife again. Watch my face as I pretend to feel no pain."

That last part gets me every single time.

   "How come the only way to know how high you get me is to see how far I fall?"

Assassin:
   "I was a killer, was the best they'd ever seen. I'd steal your heart before you ever heard a thing. I'm an assassin and I had a job to do. Little did I know that girl was an assassin too."

Half of My Heart:
    "Your faith is strong but I can only fall short for so long. Down the road, later on, you'll hate that I never gave more to you than half of my heart. But I can't stop loving you... with half of my heart.... Half of my heart has a right mind to tell you that I can't keep loving you with half of my heart."


   "Half of my heart is the shotgun wedding to a bride with a paper ring. Half of my heart is the part of a man who's never truly loved anything."

I Don't Trust Myself with Loving You:
   "If my past is any sign of your future, you should be warned before I let you inside."

Daughters:
   "Fathers, be good to your daughters; daughters will love like you do. Girls become lovers who turn into mothers, so mothers, be good to your daughters too."

Why Georgia:
   "It might be a quarter-life crisis or just a stirring in my soul. Either way I wonder sometimes about the outcome of a still verdict-less life.
   "So what, so I've got a smile on. It's hiding the quiet superstitions in my head. Don't believe me when I say I've got it all down." 

No Such Thing:
   "They love to tell you to stay in the lines... I wanna scream at the top of my lungs I just found out there's no such thing as the real world. Just a lie you've got to rise above." 

The Heart of Life:
   "Pain throws your heart to the ground. Love turns the whole thing around. No, it won't all go the way it should... Fear is a friend who is misunderstood... but I know the heart of life is good."

Words for Peace

Why is my blog called Word Peace? Well, there is that obvious play off of "world peace" but more so it's because writing brings me peace.

Life is what it is - beautiful and fun and joyous... and painful and awkward and overwhelming. We all need some form of release, some method for dealing with the highs and lows. I've been guilty of using a less-than-desirable method* to cope, as most of us have, but writing is the one that has blanketed me with a calmness every time - helped me rest when it's oh, say, after midnight and I have to be up really early but sleep just won't come.

Of course, I've also used words to discourage peace, in all fairness. (Hey, I'm only human - have I mentioned that part yet?) I don't believe in "bad" words, but words can certainly be used as weapons, be used as hurtful reminders of someone's failures, be used to encourage heartache instead of comfort. Most of the time, I manage to save the nasty words for my private journal (in really big, bold, chilling handwriting... it's much more effective that way) but whether they are taking canon ball dives off of my tongue or escaping from my fingertips like a creepy fog, sometimes I just say/write exactly what I'm thinking. Oops.

*If you're waiting for me to inform you what exactly that "less-than-desirable method" is, you might as well move on. I'm not ready to be quite that honest. I just figured the intrigue would keep you reading... heh heh.

So what's the point of this post? Mostly, I just want to be able to go to sleep (and I opted for writing here instead elsewhere because it's been a lil while). But also, I hope when you are feeling restless or sad or overwhelmed, you'll choose the method that ultimately heals you instead of the one that ends up destroying you.

*yawn*

Why, Thanks!

I don't know why bad things happen to good people. However, in my current lifetime I have noticed something very interesting:
Yes, bad things happen to "good" people. But bad things also happen to "bad" people.
Good things happen to "good" people. And good things happen to "bad" people.

It makes me think of that Bible verse about it raining on both the just and the unjust.

Sometimes it seems like Karma totally works... and sometimes, if I'm honest, it seems like Karma feel asleep at the wheel. (Hahahahaha, get it? A wheel is a circle.. karma is the idea of what goes around comes around...hahahahaha. Hey, I found it verrrry clever.)

Anyways, the point I'm getting to is this - I could say that you should be thankful, because if you're thankful you'll set yourself up for more good things to happen to you. Truth is, I can't guarantee that. What I can say is that having a thankful heart will enable you to see how much good is already in your life and will keep you in good shape for noticing the good things that'll happen to you in the future. Likewise, if you're not thankful for what you already have, you'll be more inclined to pay the most attention to any negative things that happen to you in the future.

It goes along with that saying about money not buying happiness. After all, it's never about what you have, what your relationship is like, or what your health is. It's always about how you perceive yourself based on what you have, how you see your relationship, how you feel about your health. Ya know - perception is the ultimate reality, it's all relative, etc, etc, etc.
*Not to say it doesn't suck to be poor, lonely or sick - I'm just digging a little deeper than those surface symptoms.

Basically, I just don't think that gratitude is a magical formula that brings good stuff your way. I think gratitude is like a good pair of contacts or glasses that puts things in better focus.

Happy Thanksgiving. 

Roses Are Not Automatically Romantic

I don't know many women who care much for roses, and yet most women I know love to receive flowers - preferably in public with plenty of witnesses.

So what does this mean? It means there is more to romance than what most people think. Romance is more than the cliche' of rose petals and wine, candles and tear-jerker movies. That doesn't mean it won't sometimes include things of that nature, but it's more about paying attention to the details of the object of your affection.

For example: A man could buy a half dozen red roses for his girl because they're generically associated with love. OR he could buy her daisies because on their first date they went to the fair and she got a daisy painted on her cheek.

Roses say "Hey, I love you and I was thinking about you." That's sweet.
(Granted, some men never even bother with buying roses. Jerks.)

But the daisies say, "Hey, I know you and I love you. I pay attention to this relationship because it means so much to me."

Of course, the daisies are just an example. Maybe the woman you love has a thing for orchids or tulips. Heck maybe she's allergic to flowers altogether but really loves Snickers -- the bite-size ones, mind you. So fill a flower vase full of those and drop them off at her workplace =)

Want more help in the area of sweeping a woman off her feet?
Visit me at
www.theRomanceTeacher.com

But I Really, Reallllly Want It...

Recently I took Gavin to this gorgeous little park area to hear Hubby’s band and I was delighted to have all that space for the kid to run around. But five seconds into it and the little dude has uncovered some cord linked to a nearby light post. What the hell? It’s the same type of thing at home. If I bring out his blocks, books, cars and noisemakers to distract him while I clean, within minutes he’ll be unlocking the dishwasher and pulling out knives to “play with”. How does he have this sixth sense to find the one thing in a room that he’s not supposed to mess with? More so, since he has this sixth sense why doesn’t he use it to stay away from the hazardous things instead of being drawn to them?

The thing is, Mommy still has this habit too. And I’m guessing that when you see a sign that says “please use other door” you still instinctively see if that door will open. Same thing with a “wet paint” or “wet floor” sign. You just have to test it. This is why diets are such a struggle. The moment you tell yourself something is off limits, the craving becomes uncontrollable. Thanks to my metabolism I’ve never been much of a dieter… but let’s just say I have quite the attachment to Dr. Pepper. (I’m averaging only one a day which is incredible. Ok, two, dang it.)

Once I had this crazy unexpected attraction to a guy. A strong attraction. I was convinced that because what I felt was so strong, there was no way it could be one-sided. The two of us were like magnets, irrevocably drawn to one another. Turns out he was the magnet and I was just… a paperclip. One of many paperclips. And some of those other paperclips were much shinier. Ouch.

So now I’m still wondering: I was genuinely surprised by my sudden attraction to this guy, but was my attraction to him genuine? Or did I subconsciously figure out that I could never have him and thus my attraction was born? I really like to think that if the feelings had been mutual, that we would have had an enjoyable relationship, but maybe I would have been turned off the moment he said he liked me too. I guess I’ll never get to know.

Alas, I’ve still learned something. Yes, it is good to want what you have – a grateful heart will take you a long ways. But it’s also natural – and good – to want what you can’t have. Why? Because it’s that hunger that pushes you for a better life… it’s that drive that makes humanity evolve.

Once upon a time, if you were a woman you couldn’t have an education. Well look at me, I’ve got my very own blog – based upon my ability to read and write, and the encouragement I’ve been given my whole life to think and dream.

There are so many diseases and world problems that will not be solved in our lifetime, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t chase those cures and solutions. Because what we learn and do accomplish in our lifetime enables the next generation to go one step further until inevitably the world really is a better/healthier place. Look how far we’ve come, imagine how far we will go. It’s all because we continue to want something that we’re told we can’t have. 

Are You Breathing?

"This relationship is dead." Someone said that to me once. And it hurt. I mean it stung. But I couldn't argue. In that moment I wasn’t even taken by surprise, because the truth was of course it was dead – I had been holding my breath during the entire relationship. Extended time without oxygen and things tend to cease existence.

I held my breath because I was terrified of being a disappointment, horrified that once a few of my less-than-flattering character traits made an appearance I would be abandoned. Or worse – that my presence would become tolerated but not wanted.

In the end though, it wasn’t the fact that I’m imperfect (shocking, right?) that pushed him away. It was the fact that I couldn’t just be myself… I couldn’t just breathe around him.

Why did I struggle with this? What was that fear that if I showed a little freaking humanity I’d no longer be worthy of love? I think it goes back to Sunday school where I was informed that I had to earn God’s love by being on my best behavior. You know, get good grades in school and no more painting my brother’s nails hot pink while he was sleeping. (I ended up the valedictorian of my class, but admittedly I’m still mean to my sibling on occasion…)

Whatever the reasoning, I’d like to ask – Are YOU breathing? Are you comfortable being yourself, your true natural self? I don’t just mean in your romantic relationships… I mean when you’re in the company of friends or family, when you’re surrounded by strangers... when you're alone?

I’m telling you, there is definitely something to this breathing thing. That’s why there’s a lot of focus on it during meditations, it’s a huge part of the birthing process, and it plays a significant role in any exercise or sport. Speaking of… Let’s take it to the bedroom. “Talking dirty” might get awkward but a little heavy panting… Now that’s a turn on every time.

Maybe I am the only one who’s been holding her breath, but let me tell you what I’ve learned. It’s better to breathe and risk rejection than to… um, suffocate.