Saturday, August 9, 2008

Open Up and Say, "Ahhhh...."

There simply aren't words to express my appreciation and gratitude for the many gifts in my life.  Gifts which include friends both near and far, who are there for me and offer words of support and a shoulder to lean (or cry) on when times are (or seem) tough.  I know that my previous post gave at least one or two of you reason to question our closeness and/or your place in my heart, and for that I deeply apologize.  It was never my intention to place blame or hurt on anyone, but to simply share a moment of disorderly thinking and internal suffocation that I happened to have awakened upon without warning.

I value each and every person who has touched and continues to touch my life, as well as savor the memories of those who have come and gone.  While I never wish anyone to feel as if they are alone in the world even for a moment, it was also somewhat calming to read comments that were left by those who could relate to how I was feeling in some way.  Yes, we all have those days, when we have to carry ourselves through with a smile ~ no matter how we may be feeling on the inside.  Let's face it, we all feel just a little empty sometimes.  Even when we know ~ if we really take a moment and think ~ that each and every one of us is blessed in ways we forget to be thankful for, when faced with even the smallest of circumstantial difficulty. 

A reader and friend (who deserves a tight hug) emailed me and offered the idea that perhaps if I opened myself up to others a little more, I might find acceptance and understanding where I least expect it ~ particularly by those who truly count.  It reminded me of the saying (and Maria, this one's for you): "those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter".  There are many facets to my personality.  Many unresolved issues, complications and contradictions in my life.  Those of you who have followed my journal and have come to know me through my words KNOW how moody and puzzled I can be at times.  One dear friend even went so far as to call me "mysterious" and is probably still wondering where I've been hiding myself. 

I still feel that writing is a very therapeutic and cleansing way to express oneself, and we all have different reasons and ways of doing it.  I judge NO ONE, for what they write, how they write or why.  And how lucky am I, to have such thoughtful and supportive people along for the ride, to share my own personal and sometimes cloudy journey through life with?  Extremely. 

Thank you.


(coming soon:  Job, family, Bell's, creative muse and LIFE update, while I work on that opening myself up thing... ::smiles::)


Thursday, August 7, 2008

Sometimes I wake up and wonder if there isn't a single person in my life who truly knows me.  Someone who knows how I feel at all times and is still there when I turn around, despite how I feel inside.  Anyone at all, who I don't have to pretend to feel or be something or someone that I'm not, for. 

It's a lonely place, to suddenly realize that there isn't.


Monday, August 4, 2008

(note:  the subject matter in the following words may be difficult depending on your personal experiences and/or beliefs.  i hope i don't offended anyone)

I think it was my senior year in high school, when I took a class called Death and Dying ~ or something sounding morbidly similar.  It was one of those Human Relations classes, that bridged the various cliques and personalities together in a way no other class could.  I remember certain classmates, who I never would have made contact with outside of the classroom due to differences that today of course, seem (and probably are) irrelevant.  Many times, the majority of us would walk out of that room a little more sensitive and empathetic to each other than we were when we arrived.

I recall one class in particular ~ one that pertained to the whole grieving process, that struck a chord in me which still chimes now and again some twenty years later. 

Tears stung many eyes that day, as many of us had already experienced such a loss in one way or another, but it was also uplifting in a sense, and that is what I'm thinking about today. 

I can still picture our teacher, Mr. Wood, standing in front of the class and demonstrating how the body is like a glove for the soul (of course, this was his own personal take on the matter, and I have to wonder if such a display would be considered inappropriate today). 

Holding out one hand (the soul), he placed the other over it (the body) and stated simply that, when we die, our body "slips off like a glove" and our soul is then free.  A simple idea, but where I went with it in the afterglow has been and is still very meaningful to me. 

Our physical being is a magnificent thing.  We are all different and our bodies don't always look, work or feel the way we would like them to.  Young or old, there are many who struggle physically in one way or another and that can have a pretty profound and lasting effect on who we are and how we feel on the inside.  Our bodies may delight, deceive, burden or strengthen us to an astounding degree, depending on circumstances within or beyond our control.  If we are lucky, in most instances those we are in physical contact with treat us kindly and lovingly ~ or, at the very least, respectfully.  But sometimes, it's when our souls  are deeply touched that we feel it the most, and I'm starting to wonder if that isn't what it's all about in the first place.  Our time on earth is so very brief, in the grand scheme of things, and sometimes, that thought scares the hell out of me and keeps me up at night. 

Other times, it thrills me to no end. 

So, friendly readers, may your souls be touched and well guarded in countless ways for many, many years to come, and your gloves be worn with beauty and grace. 

That's all for now.....  ;o)