A Quick Note….

When I was a kid, I had plans of becoming some famous rock star and then using all of the money I’d earned to help starving kids, or kids without homes, or kids with abusive families. I used to think my life’s purpose was to make a difference, to change the world single-handedly (hello, Ego). I started this Wordpress because I wanted to a place to express myself and to promote doing good in the world. It’s not generating much attention and I could say that it’s because I’m not focused on stories, poems, or even anything relevant.

Did you see my mention of the bombing of the only pediatric hospital in Aleppo? No? There wasn’t one.  I’ve been hiding from the pain. I said as much, I told you I couldn’t handle the pain of the world anymore. Does that solve the problem? No. It ignores it, like an ostrich with its head in the sand. The pain doesn’t go away because you don’t acknowledge it. It becomes louder and louder  until it’s screaming in your ear while you sleep at night. There is no rest.

The other day I wrote a piece about my coming into feminism. I stand by what I wrote, it came from a place of honesty, but I also feel like it promoted misandry (which, incidentally, I almost misspelled as misangry). I was angry when I wrote it and though I am allowed to feel angry, to feel indignant, and to wonder why people are the way they are or think they way they think, it’s hypocritical to rage in such a hateful way. I don’t want my life or my work to be about hate or anger. Those are important emotions, but I gave them too much of a spotlight.  I owe this world much more than selfish musings and angry commentary.

 

 

I Wasn’t a Feminist

My mother is a stubborn woman; a free-spirited, fiery, foul-mouthed broad who still doesn’t know when to back down. When my sister and I were young, not yet precocious pre-teens, she would tell us how the Bible demeaned women. She would tell us how, in the eyes of Christian men, a wife was the property of her husband and women were portrayed as mindless devils out to deceive the men of the world. It was impressed upon us how awful it was to be born female – the agony of periods and childbirth, the ways in which the world worked against us, how we would always be underestimated because of our gender. As a chubby kid who often wished I was thin and blonde like my sister, I also alternatively wished I would have been born a boy.

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A Little Lost, A Little Found

I’m a bull-headed woman; incongruously independent; unrelenting, unforgiving and undeterred about achieving my objectives – once they have been soulfully decided and moved upon. I say this as a kind warning. Telling me what I should do, reminding me of my responsibilities, and insinuating that I might not have examined a decision from all angles is sure to bring out my harshest qualities. Commitment to any idea, notion, movement, or philosophy is not something I take lightly; it cannot be done with frivolity. I may talk about this or that, but talk is cheap. When my actions begin to line up with my words – then you can be sure that my heart is wholly engaged. Like stopping a speeding train, only a catastrophe is likely to derail me.

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I think I can, I think I can, I think I can

After a four-day gastric plague of catastrophic proportions descended upon my home and family, I, rather happily, silenced my alarm and curled under my thin blanket for another 45 minutes of light sleep. This is my habit. The time I have allotted myself to wake up and practice yoga and meditation is usually redirected to sleeping just a bit more to give myself a bit of an oomph for the rest of the day. I don’t credit the extra sleep with the refreshed sense of direction and understanding I seem to be enjoying today. I slept literally all day Sunday after spending most of the wee hours of the morning retching. My son brought it home with him the Thursday prior and though I had hoped all of my Lysoling and disinfecting had done the trick, the virus still attacked me and I surrendered to it. (Damned immune system! Why are you not superhuman yet?!)

Today seems to be the day of renewed understanding – which is more than welcome! I’ve been in a bit of a fog the past few months, a little too caught up in my emotions, a little too all over the place. It’s okay. I go through phases like that. I’m choosing today to set modest goals, to handle things with as much kindness as I can comfortably muster, and to be a little more flexible.  Sound familiar? Continue reading

Whole Truths, Half Truths, and Bald-faced Lies

Yesterday I wrote about the trinity of my family – honesty, vulnerability, and kindness – and like most other people, after I finished the entry the theme stayed with me. I thought about some of the ways that I hadn’t been honest, vulnerable, or kind. I also reflected on many of the ways that I had observed my actions and made a conscionable effort to live more in line with my values. It’s easy, so easy, to get caught up in all the wrong we do, in all the ways we don’t walk our talk – at least it is for me. Life is our greatest teacher, but what good are the lessons if you forget them afterwards?

Until very recently, one could say that I was not living honestly. Continue reading

Don’t Lose Heart, Little One

Honesty, vulnerability, and kindness are the trinity that rule my home. When you’ve got a situation where kids outnumber adults (3:1), I learned pretty quickly that the best way to get all of us to work together is to be honest, even when it hurts and always try to be kind to each other (my youngest is naturally the kindest of us all). It can be difficult when you’ve got an emotional, imaginative (see: Pisces; Cancer Ascending) middle child (who happens to be the only boy) combating with a somewhat inflexible, protective (Capricorn; Pisces Ascending) older sister. The most effective diversion tactic for an argument? Ten pushups and a 45 second hug. It only takes about 15 seconds before one or both of them to start smiling and the transgression is (mostly) forgotten. They are who they are, individually, and we’re working to find a way to coexist amongst our differences.

My first baby is tweening right now. She’s ten, so we’re barely approaching the event horizon, but the hallmarks are there. She has questions about the world, the town in which we currently reside, and people. Continue reading

A Little Patience Goes a Long Way

I’m asking this of myself today. You see, before I embark on any endeavor I tend to research the crap out of it. I’m not so good with sticking to a plan, but I definitely like to be aware of any and all possible outcomes – including pitfalls, booby traps, and unforeseen whoopsies. Waking up and becoming aware of who you are and what you’re doing has made me want to take extra care with my time and the things I devote my energy to. So when I talk about, or think about, wanting to write my stories or this blog here, I have to remind myself of a few things:

  • Patience is a Virtue – everything takes time. -insert sigh here- Patience is probably the thing I was born without. As I tend to flit from idea to idea, I’ve not really given any interest enough time to come to fruition. Patience, Tess. You have to wait this one out.
  • Never Stop Learning – I have a lot to learn about blogging and about writing. So, doing what I do best, I’ll sharpen my researching skills and dive right into what I do best. There is always something to learn.
  • Do Your Work – Instead of devoting my quiet time last night to watching The Voice, I sat in quiet contemplation. I’ve begun ignoring the television in favor of doing something better for my sprit, my brain, my work. Yoga is my body work, Cooking wholesome (mostly vegan) foods is my soul work, Writing is my brain work. Everything needs attention, but my television? Maybe not.
  • Reach Out – I am an introvert. Reaching out can range from being somewhat uncomfortable to terrifying. Yeah, even on the internet. I’m just weird like that, okay? I will find someone to reach out, though. Like this, now, what I’m doing. This is me reaching out.
  • Rule of 7 – Seven, 7, is my lucky number. Three, 3, follows my life like some kind of omen. But on average, I’ve noticed that intentions come to fruition within seven years. I’ve given more time to worse things, so how about I just do the best I can in seven years?
  • Keep Breathing – It really will work out the way it’s supposed to.

 

News and an Exercise

Hi, hey, hello there! I’m a little energized for a Monday, but here I am and there you go (blame it on the coffee…). I hope you enjoyed a restful weekend – mine was full of busy-ness and games and company (a great weekend, in retrospect). This post is a bit of a hybrid; I have some news about Imogene and also a writing exercise (to help me sharpen my somewhat dulled skills). I won’t belabor you with minutiae –

The NEWS Continue reading

Mish-Mosh and Hodge- Podge; My life path is beckoning….

It’s wonderfully amazing to me how sometimes I miss the things that are right in front of my face – like big-eyed, silent tarsiers; unflinchingly staring until I finally understand the message.  I’ve been a fan of astrology and numerology pretty much my whole life. My mom introduced me to the zodiac when I was a little kid – for her, I think it was more entertainment- but my interest grew and as a teen, I purchased a huge textbook to try to map my own chart (I really wish I still had it); some of the information was true, some not so much (not yet anyway), but it was a really useful tool for self-exploration. Numerology is a different, and much simpler, method, but still plenty fun and interesting. It’s like anything else in the world – take it with a grain of salt. Continue reading

About Forgiveness…..

Really beautiful things happen when you start showing yourself some love.  I know all of us hippy-dippy, spirituality-seeking, peace-promulgating, love-spreading, yoga-bending weirdos are all about this idea and we just don’t. know. how. to. stop. talking about it. I feel ya – it’s probably annoying to be told day in and day out to love yourself (especially when you think or feel or know that you already do).  It starts with the notion of, “Of course I love myself. I’m pretty damn awesome!” which usually leads to, “Do I really love myself?” and then you get lost in a myriad of questions that need answers only you have, but don’t know where to find. It’s a maze, a trap, a Schrodinger’s cat type question. Can you both love and not love yourself? Continue reading