busy-ness

How quickly the days are passing! Between house hunting and working my new waitressing job, I feel as though I’ve barely seen daylight in the past week. And my beloved laptop is certainly feeling quite abandoned these days. I have emails to return (my apologies…I have not forgotten you), homework to be done, clothes to be laundered, an apartment to be cleaned, etc, etc, etc. And all the while, my body is screaming for me to sleep. Between sinus problems and the adjustment of running around a restaurant for eight hours straight, my body is suffering from extreme confusion at the moment, and begging for nothing more than sleep. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), there is much to be done. I realize this email sounds like I am quite overwhelmed at the moment, and so let me clarify. I am indeed a bit overwhelmed, but I am good. Perhaps the busyness of my days is preventing me from focusing on the pain I spoke of last week. Perhaps that is just what I need right now. In any case, that is my life right now. And I am okay with that.

I hope you all had wonderful weekends. I am looking forward to getting some time later this week to catch up with this beautiful world of blogging. Love to you all!!

seeking the positive

“Seek out the positive and let the negative fall to the wayside.”
-Papa Joe-

These were my daddy’s words to me this morning as he imparted his wisdom and encouragement to walk with me through this day. What true and wise words these are. In many different forms, this message of finding the positive and letting go of the negative has interspersed my week. I have received beautiful letters from friends far and near, old and new, speaking their own words of wisdom and offering their own love and support. These words have guided me through a week of deep pain, mounting frustrations, and personal introspection.
Amidst the bad, I have found the good. Amidst the darkness, I have seen the sun beaming down it’s brilliant rays of warmth.
There are many things in life which we cannot control. Becoming aware of our lack of control and learning to accept it, is one of the hardest tasks any of us encounter. But it is an essential task. To realize that those things beyond our control may only change in their own right, to acknowledge our own vulnerability and helplessness in these situations, and to have the courage to embrace our own selves rather than fruitlessly trying to change that which is not ours to change. And yet even in these situations, we can choose to allow ourselves to embrace some feelings and to let go of others. To release some reactions and to know that some reactions are better left to be freed in solitude and then relinquished.
And so it is with this mindset, this attitude of acceptance, that I choose to walk out into the world today and see the hidden beams of sunlight. Beneath the pouring rain, behind the steely gray skies, there is a beauty that awaits us all.
May we all be able to find the positive and let the negative fall away. May we all choose to accept our limitations and embrace ourselves, to own that which is ours and release the desire to change that which is not ours.
May we all choose to see the beauty in today.

walking away

"There are people who can walk away from you. And hear me when I tell you this! When people can walk away from you; let them walk. I don't want you to talk another person into staying with you, loving you, calling you, caring about you, coming to see you, staying attached to you ... When people can walk away from you, let them walk." - T.D. Jakes

Some people find it so easy to walk away, to shut the door on some disappointed experience of their life. No doubt there are times that people should walk away. But far too many people in this world find walking away to be the easiest road, guarding themselves with this knowledge that there is always that back road, that well-worn path, to carry them far away when times get rough. I admit that I have often been that person, walking or running away, when life felt unbearable. But I'm proud to say that I'm no longer looking for an escape, for the easy path, for the difficulties in life to be brushed away beneath the plastic masks we all may wear. My dilemma now comes from the other side of the battle: if I am not the one walking, should I let the other walk? I've never been good at this. Unresolved conflict is not weaved into the natural fabric of my life tapestry. My instincts have always urged me forward, grasping at others' heels and searching, often desperately, for love and acceptance. I've spent a large portion of my life apologizing for things that merited no apology, begging forgiveness when I didn't honestly feel that I had done anything worthy of needing forgiveness. But apologizing and seeking forgiveness, wearing this mask, kept me safe from the unfinished business, protected from the unsettling awareness of open conflict. I used to believe that this was just part of my nature. I believed this through many years of others telling me that I should stand up more, that I should stop forgiving and forgetting so easily. The past few months have opened my eyes; I refuse to continue fighting battles that have no basis. I refuse to continue to apologize for being myself, for being honest. I refuse to continue allowing myself to be a doormat for others' anger. I do not want to fight back. I do not want to apologize simply to appease someone else. What I do want is to live my life with integrity, with strength, and with the knowledge that love and acceptance are not gifts meant to be bargained. True love and acceptance do not shut the door and walk away. The door may become weathered and in need of repairs. There may be moments when it is necessary to stand apart in order to later stand together. But if someone chooses to completely shut that door, to turn and walk away...I've chosen to let them walk.

roller coaster life

I’ve always thought of life, at least my life, as one big roller coaster. One continuous journey of highs and lows, ups and downs. Not always knowing when the next drop will appear, plummeting me downward with colossal force and tightly-gripped hands. Nor am I always confident on my ascents upward. I tend to loosen my grip only slightly at times, fearful that the next plunge will arrive before I have prepared myself. And then there are those beautiful, mind-reeling loops. Times when I find my world spontaneously turned upside down, sometimes screaming in terror and crying with fear. Other times with my arms up in the air and my hair blowing wildly in the wind.

And so the roller coaster goes.

I used to believe that I was strapped in, the journey being controlled by some force far greater than myself. And perhaps that is still the case. But my reactions, my terror and fear, my pure moments of blissful happiness and excitement…those reactions, those feelings, those are my own. I might not have chosen to embark on this wild ride, but I can choose to enjoy the ride. To sit back, with the sun beaming down on my face and the wind tousling my hair, and just ride the ride.

One of the things I have discovered about myself is that I often hang on too tightly, gripping until my knuckles have become white, my jaws clenched in anticipation. It is during these moments, when I suddenly find myself filled with panic or freefalling onto an unknown path, that I turn expectantly to seek the heights once again. It is during these times that my mind wanders, and my disillusioned fantasies expand to believe that there is a path where no lows exist. A journey where there are no terrifying drops. A ride where I can be surrounded by nothing but the sheer beauty of the clouds. And yet, as times passes, and as I grow, I am learning to embrace the highs and lows, the ups and downs. I am beginning to enjoy the ride.

And so the roller coaster goes.

a glorious day

After many days of feeling drowned by the pouring rain and my own tears, I have spent today relishing in the simple pleasures of a glorious day. Just as I was leaving the apartment to go pick up my newly bought 5 x 4 foot oil painting (which is such a joy in itself), the snowflakes started to fall. In Georgia, it is hard to differentiate a snow flurry from trash flying wildly in the air, and so it took a few moments before I realized that indeed these were tiny white flakes of the mystery that is called “snow”. I have spent the past several months, wishing and praying to look out the window and find a world bathed in white. And though the world is certainly not white now, I found myself filled with childish excitement and pure bliss as the flakes landed in my hair. So as I drove home, with my enormous painting of naked women being embraced filling the back of my car, and my windshield being pelted by Nature’s sprinkling of miniature pieces of happiness, I literally squealed in delight. One day, and two precious gifts…what a glorious day it has been.

still here, and sending love

Thank you all for all of your recent comments of support and encouragement. It lifts my spirit to know that I have such incredible people in my life and I am so very thankful for each of you.
I apologize for my recent absence and want to inform you all that I might be a little more absent than usual in this coming week. Midterms are imprisoning me at the moment...that and a lot of other emotional stuff that I will delve more into with you all later. I just wanted you to know that I'm thinking of you all and sending my love out to each one of you!!!

risk and regret

Periodically I find myself faced with making some emotionally-laden decisions. Every decision involves taking a risk, and every risk involves the possibility of a negative outcome. And so, in these times of making decisions, I am faced with an internal dilemma. If I take a risk, leaping forward with optimism, I take the chance of falling, with a potentially painful landing. But if I don’t take the risk, then I feel I am choosing a life sentence of regret. For it is not the things I have done in my life that have burdened me with regret; it is the things that fear has prevented me from doing that have resulted in regret. I do not want my life to end with unfilled hungers and unexplored wonders. I want to live my life, knowing that I have taken chances, knowing that I have taken the risk, and knowing that I have fully lived.

second tag

What were three things when you were little you wanted to be when you grew up?

a singer
an architect
a psychologist

You can live one day over again from your childhood. What day will it be?

my last day of play therapy at age 7…I painted a very bizarre picture entitled “my secret”…I would like to know what “my secret” was

You have two minutes (and a mover with you if you need heavy lifting help!) to grab 5 things from your home before it morphs into a polka dotted hobgoblin and hops away. What will you take? (Food/drink/family/friends excluded!)

my box of pictures
my journals
as many books as I can grab
the first cross-hatching picture Mark did of me
the miniature pearl necklace that my mama wore as a child (and her opal ring if I can grab that at the same time)

You have to paint one quote on your kitchen wall. Whats it going to be?

“Go out into the world today and help as many people as you can.” – my dad
-this is my daddy’s daily reminder to me and he is the perfect example of living life this way

What is one thing you want to have accomplished by the end of this year?

submitted some of my writings for publication…of course I would love to have something published, but just gaining the courage and energy to submit something (and knowledge of how to go about it) would be enough

You are moving to the moon for one year and can only bring one flower with you. What kind will you bring?

a cactus (the kind that blooms, though I don’t know what it’s called…someone help me here)

You just received word that aside from one flower, you can also bring five books with you too!
Your choices?

The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
100 Love Sonnets by Pablo Naruda
If You Meet the Buddha on the Road, Kill Him by Sheldon Kopp
a blank book to write in (I’m stealing that great idea from you, Megg)
the diaries of Anais Nin or Virgina Wolff (I have yet to read these, and don’t even know the official names of the books, but am eager to immerse myself in the writings of these brilliant women)

Tagging:
I know some of you don’t like to do these tags, so if I tag you and you’re not up for it, then please don’t feel obligated. However, I personally love these things as I feel that they teach us so much about the nuances of each other.

Baylor
Jeff
Jessie
Frankie
Amy
Sky
Tammy

the path of deepest passion

Sometimes I wonder if I’m following the path of my deepest passion.

Since the age of seven or eight years old, I’ve never doubted my desire to enter the field of psychology. Even as such a young and fragile child, my perceptions were honed. Intuition is an innate blessing. So as I sat before various therapists and psychologists and psychiatrists, I could feel the intensity (or lack thereof) of their sincerity, their sensitivity, their true understanding. Unfortunately, what I often sensed in those early years was a complete lack of authenticity. So many times, I would be asked, “so how does that make you feel?” I have no recollection of my specific answers to those generic questions. But I can vividly recall what I wanted to say in response. I wanted to scream, to yell, to shout loud enough for everyone to actually hear me, “how do you think I feel? I’m here aren’t I? I obviously feel like shit or I wouldn’t be here.” As the years have passed and my own education in psychology has grown, I have come to understand that perhaps those therapists were doing what they had been taught. Perhaps they were truly trying to understand me. But my intellectual understanding of this does not negate the emotional repercussions of never truly feeling understood or accepted. However, I do not regret those early years of therapy or lack of growth and comfort I found in myself or in my relationships with those supposed healers. Through their inexperience or ignorance or lack of empathy, they harvested the beginnings of my most prominent lifelong dream. Because I did not perceive a sense of understanding or acceptance or authenticity, I vowed at a very early age to become a psychologist. I promised myself that I would use my own experience and my own intuition to guide me down the path towards helping others caught in the very cages of darkness and fear in which I myself had been imprisoned for so long. And so it is no surprise to me, or those that know me, that I have continued this journey, with determination and perseverance. These days, I continue my journey, working day after day, to learn how to help and heal those suffering from mental illness. I continue to inch forward, whatever the pace may be, in order that I may fulfill this dream. And this is my dream.

But what if this is not the most important dream for me? What about my other dreams, my other passions? How do I find the time and energy and balance to pursue them all?

I began writing poetry at the age of eleven. Mostly, my poems were comprised of rhyming lines, depicting my naïve and innocent perception of love. As the years passed, I continued to write, but my writing changed. From words of pure innocence to words of confusion and resentment, my poetry metamorphosed into the rambling monologues of a depressed and self-loathing adolescent. From lighthearted depictions of love’s simplicity to the darkness of black holes and dreams of death, the words I expressed on paper mirrored the evolution of my youth. Still, I never considered myself a writer. I wrote for release, nothing more. During college, my writing stopped for several years. I gave little thought to the power of words on paper as I doggedly pursued my degree in psychology and enveloped my remaining time in the social comfort and freedom of adulthood’s birth. Gradually, I came back to writing but I still viewed it as a mere release of emotions. I’ve always loved to write and somewhere inside me, I’ve long harbored the dream of publishing my work one day. But with my dream of becoming a psychologist taking center stage, my dream of becoming a successful writer got lost in the background. It has only been in these past couple of years that I have come to recognize the power of the passion I feel for writing. Now, in my free time, I immerse myself in books and journals and paper. I read printed words with a hunger I have not felt for many years, desperate to ingest all the beauty and emotions of each word I read. I find myself reluctant to study or sleep, fearing that the passion will dissolve if I leave it alone for one more moment. And so I find myself wondering, is this a lesser dream than the one I have actively pursued for the past decade? Or am I merely fooling myself, believing that this dream could ever possibly reach fruition?

I honestly do not know which dream is more important to me. I do not know which passion is greater. All I do know is that my passion for being a psychologist and my passion for writing are both very real and very deep. As best I can, I shall pursue them both.

when time stands still...

The sky was a brilliant shade of blue, the sand a thick, grainy blanket of white beneath our backs. The turquoise water was clear and cool, the sun’s vibrant rays beaming their warmth down upon our bare skin. It was the beginning of a life-long bond and the peak of our youth. With no thoughts of responsibilities or regrets, we lived the days from moment to moment, reveling in the beauty of freedom. Our skin was tanned a perfect shade of golden brown, our striking blonde hair radiating with the blessing of so many afternoons exploring the native lands beneath the Caribbean sun. We lay there on that afternoon, in a perfect state of relaxation, recounting memories of the previous nights. Nights of dancing under the stars in the market square, getting drunk on the mixture of abandoned inhibitions and fresh coconut drinks. Nights when the sweltering heat was only soothed by immersing our sun-drenched bodies in the refreshing coolness of laughter-filled pools. We retold stories of the previous afternoons, spent shopping for trinkets in the outside markets and sliding shiny quarters into sparkling slot machines of the air-conditioned casino. We talked of the beautiful new friends we’d met and the sexy new stilettos we’d purchased with the slot machine winnings. We talked of blessings in disguise and the miracle of kindred spirits. And then we did not talk at all; we lay there in silence. With the gentle crashing of the waves luring us towards slumber’s calling and the promise of new dreams to fulfill, we laid there. Across the sandy beach towels printed in bright designs of abstraction, her hand found mine. As our hands clasped together, the fragility of each us faded as the strength of our bond was born. We sat there in contentment, staring out at the picturesque horizon and talked of those rare moments in life when time stands still. Moments when the world fades away, and the moment is all that exists. The words she said to me that afternoon have filled my heart for many years now. “This is one of those moments when time stands still.” With natural and pure smiles upon our faces and our hands still clasped together, the camera flashed. In my most treasured picture of us, time will always stand still.

*Dedicated to Baylor…my soul mate and best friend. Through laughter and tears, broken hearts and vows of forever, she has taught me some of the most important lessons in life. To cherish the uniqueness of my soul, to embrace my dreams with passion, to revel in the luxury of strangers, and to dance with abandon through this journey of life. But most of all, she has taught me to treasure those moments when time stands still.*