You don’t have to be all things, all-knowing, or perfect.
What if you are just you, your true self, flaws and all.
It’s okay if you’re not good at everything.
It’s okay to be yourself.
No one cares if your outfit is a little mismatched, a bit wrinkled, or tired.
You’re supposed to look older and have a gray hair or two.
The only thing expected of you, is you, your true self, the person living on the inside.
Your job is to just be and nothing else.
Let it happen.
Do you ever wonder why we expect so much of ourselves and why we can’t get over the fact that we aren’t everything we want to be or everything someone else wants us to be? Can you live with yourself as is, without regret? It’s hard but I’m realizing just how important it is and trying my dammedest to do it.
A while back I talked about the book A Sea of Whispers that I self-published. After receiving my copies, I gave them out as Christmas gifts to my family. I mentioned in a previous post, offering this book in my Etsy shop sometime in the future. That future isn’t today. It still might happen. I’ve realized that it’s not important to share what I think or feel with the world but to offer something that captures your thoughts and views. I’d like to merge this book into a journal that records your self- discovery and journey through life. A place where you can record your thoughts without being censored. A place where you are free to be your authentic self. This idea gives me something to work on. I plan to talk to the company that published my book and see what we could offer at an affordable price.
We are all on a journey and have a story to tell and that’s important. I have to say my journey would not be the same without each one of you. It’s funny that it’s so easy to share myself with people I’ve never met. Perhaps it’s because we have a certain need or connection that bonds us so tightly. Or maybe we feel comfortable because we never have to meet face to face. It’s kind of like having an imaginary friend. The fact that you are very real sometimes overwhelms me. I can’t believe I have shared so much of myself with all of you.
Thank you for listening and just being there when I needed to share. You’ll never know how much it’s meant to me.
Colorful but uncomplicated,
warm and true,
there’s beauty in all things simple
and simplicity in all things beautiful
Have a warm and beautiful day- keep it simple!
BTW I’ve made a few tweeks and sent my book back to the publisher, it should be available soon. (opps that was a secret)
All right, without further delay or procrastination here it is, the honest scrap about me.
This honor was bestowed upon me by my good friend the Seawitch.
1. I live in the same town where I was born- moved away once but came back. I always thought I would grow up to be famous and live in a big city.
2. I have been writing crazy little stories and poetry since I was 12 years old.
3. I am fiercely loyal and can become dangerous if you mess with my kids 😉
4. I had a stalker when I was 15. Thank God that’s over.
5. About 12 years ago I ran into a burning house and retrieved 3 kids and 2 dogs. I put them in my car/van and waited until their mother arrived home.
6. I’m a terrible speller, spell-check is my friend.
7. I have only finished reading about 6 books in my lifetime I get bored too easily.
8. In 10th grade my girlfriends and I hid in the locker room of the opposing football team at half time and never got caught. We didn’t see much but it was still worth the thrill. he he
9. I had to stuff my bra for my best friends wedding because I missed my last fitting and well it didn’t fit. Thank heavens everything stayed put.
10. I believe helping others is the best way to help yourself!
That’s it, 10 things you don’t know about me. Have a great weekend!
If you are white, are a girl, have a family and look pretty ordinary than you just might be considered the girl next door. I never really subscribed to that theory or most other stereo types initiated by the middle class. Growing up middle class in a small town I felt protected, a little ordinary maybe but still protected. I never worried about whether there would be food on the table, a warm bed to sleep in and I never thought about violence of any kind. I wasn’t allowed to watch R-rated movies (which are more like the PG movies of today) and anything labeled adult conversation was not spoken in front of the children, ever! I was a country girl from the mid-west and knew very little about life outside small town America. It was implied that I would finish school, get married and raise a family, whether I had a career or not was up for grabs. Things were pretty simple and quite ordinary back then. I was considered the girl next door. I knew a lot of girl next door types and some were quite ordinary like me but then there were others that were anything but ordinary. They might have been considered the girl next door at first glance but if truth be told their membership would be revoked in a heart beat. But the world was a little more polite back then (I’m talking the late 70’s- early 80’s) and we lived by the golden rule of don’t ask- don’t tell. I’m not so sure that’s a good rule, well it doesn’t really matter because that rule has changed. Kids are no longer sweet & innocent until they arrive at adulthood and you’ll be hard-pressed to find a sixteen year old kid that hasn’t seen at least one R-rated movie.
So what happened? Is it a good thing that the girl next door doesn’t exist anymore. Are we any safer now that our kids know what the world is all about both good and bad? What they don’t know can be googled in 30 seconds, anyway. Although, I believe it’s dangerous to be too naive, fear invokes limitations on people. They used to say “what you don’t know can’t hurt you” but today there isn’t much we don’t know. That theory was completely bogus anyway.
Now that this middle class- girl next door approaches middle age she kind-of, sort-of misses her bubble of innocence but then she also wonders what would have been if that bubble had never existed in the first place. What if I’d known then what I know now…
Follow me to the secret garden
She came to this place as though it were by instinct. The pathway to this hidden place was lush and closed in around her as she approached the hedge. The old hedge of Crepe Myrtles stretched 30 feet or more along the hillside. When she stepped past it there was a heavy wrought iron gate that was now rusted and broken away from its hinges. It was covered in thick vines weaving their way through every hole. Everything looked so intriguing through heavy iron and leafy vines. The gate made the garden more alluring and she heard it call her name. Temptation forced her to take a peek and she was rendered breathless at the sight. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to hide this place it must be a secret worth keeping. It looked as if this garden had a mind of its own and was not willing to reveal its secret too easily. It resembled an old Gothic graveyard and a most unusual sight, like a time and place in another world. It was so close and hidden in a landscape of open beach dunes only a few feet away. The garden was hauntingly beautiful but it was filled with a resonance of deep sorrow that radiated throughout the grounds. Roses and honeysuckle vines grew wildly and the moon flowers were just beginning to open as the light began to fade. Night Jasmine saturated the air with a luring scent that said come closer. The graveyard garden was bordered by a rusty iron fence and each three foot section ended with a 7 foot pole. Hanging from each pole was a glowing garden lantern. The light that flickered as the lanterns swayed with the breeze dazzled her eyes. It bathed the garden with shimmering light and set it apart from the landscape that surrounded it. The plants seemed to respond to her arrival by growing taller and unleashing an intoxicating scent as she passed by.
Twilight, lovely flowers, and a lantern’s glow set this garden apart from the world. It was silent except for the sound of the breeze that whispered through the vines. The whispering silence made her feel on edge and uncomfortable standing in her own skin. Her heart raced as she felt every breath hot and damp coming from her lips. It seemed more like a dream; this place couldn’t be real. She looked to the center of the memorial garden and there was a beautiful angel standing seven feet tall with her wings gracefully opened wide. The base of the statue read, “Angel of Hope”. Suddenly she got the feeling that she didn’t belong and was intruding on a private space but then she noticed something. The name on the little head stone at the base of the statue was familiar. It was in the middle of tiny flowers and several other broken headstones. Rose vines had taken over and grew wildly in and out of the head stones and over the wrought iron fence. A honeysuckle vine was spewing a heavy scent into the atmosphere. If it weren’t for the stunning beauty of this place it would be almost unbearable. The emotion of this secret garden was overwhelming and she couldn’t help but be over-taken by the power of sadness that resonated. Her time in this secret garden was a walk that weaved its way through the lies of her life but she didn’t recognize the truth that was standing right before her.
It felt like a good day for story telling. This story is based on the time I went searching for my roots and found the truth in a beautiful garden/cemetery.
Enjoy this day and everyday!
OOch! I’ve been tagged.
So just as promised I will do the tag thing for Ricardo. Now this should be fun- for me.
I had to rack my brain to decide what 10 true things about me you didn’t already know. Well here goes….
1.When I was a senior in high school my career aspirations were to be a professional cheerleader/dancer. Don’t laugh! I got as far as a final audition in Chicago and then my parents put their foot/feet down. I had no frickin idea how to get to Chicago on my own and my boyfriend refused to help me out.
2. I am a middle child and so I must be deprived or lacking something, right? I was the child that my parents worried most about.,too trusting, too free and so delicate- or so they thought.
3. I really thought I was adopted until about age 16 or so when there was no denying that I looked too much like my parents and must be biological. I was different from everyone in my family. I liked different things and dressed in a different way even thought a little differently. The day I met my cousin’s college roommate she said ” Oh, you’re the one I’ve heard so much about, so different from the rest of the family. Huh…. the nerve! My cousin’s face was barn red.
4. My family was wonderful almost perfect actually but kind of plastic-that’s why I didn’t fit in. I was real and free and couldn’t be molded. I wasn’t allowed to say anything unless it was nice and politically correct. Poop and butt were four letter words in my house. (oh yeah, I guess it does have 4 letters) I hope no one from the fam is reading this.
5. I don’t drink that much but when I do: life is beautiful and I love everybody until I get sleepy.
6. I practice yoga when I’m not too caught up with this blog…. It connects me to myself and keeps me in the flowwwww of things.
7. Nobody knows my little secret- I do everything on line under an assumed name. So who am I really? I can’t tell you because of the whole witness protection thing. OOOpps what happens if I lie on this thing. 😉
8. I have 3 little dogs. I love dogs but sometimes they are really a pain in the (4 letter word). I’m the only one who laughs at my jokes but you probably knew that 😉 The three of them fight over my lap when I’m writing to all of you. The little gypsy above is my fave shhhh! don’t tell the others. Remember beauty lies within!
9. I quit my last job because my boss was having an emotional crises and lost her mind. On top of all that I got tired of the stress and some my co-workers were really weird or strange, I don’t know how else to tactfully say it .
10. As I’m sitting here typing this post: a man I have never seen before walked in front of my house on his way down to the pond wearing dress clothes, carrying a fishing pole in one hand and a tiny dog in the other (not mine). Granted the pond doesn’t belong to me but my house is the last one on the street and it backs up to the woods and then a meadow and pond to the left. It amazes me how many people go down there. I have to be careful because I don’t have curtains on my windows. I love windows and don’t want to cover them up. I like to look out and enjoy the light. I would love to live in a place where glass wasn’t necessary just openings for windows, bringing the outdoors in. One morning at 6:30 am I looked out and a boy with a machete was standing done by the pond, yes very freaky!
Right now I have a charlie horse in my back leg. I know TMI.
That’s all folks now you know me better than you ever wanted to.
It has been several weeks since I heard such an interesting confession. Penny (let’s call her that) was a beautiful girl with a boring life. Her confession started with what she liked to do for fun. She said she liked to stalk people she was envious of until she got their routine down. Then she would break into the house when they were away and pretend to be them. Touch their things, wear their clothes, lay in their bed. This really creep-ed me out. I wasn’t quite sure if she made it up to impress her me or if it was for real. She described her last scenario play by play and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Here is her startling confession as told to me from the Velvet Lady:
Penny knew exactly where the key was hidden and it took her less than a minute to get inside. She quickly made her way up the long staircase. She knew right away which bedroom belonged to Debra and Dan. As soon as she opened the closet and began to touch Debra’s clothes, a snap came over her and the fantasy began. She touched her sweater, touched her robe, touched the boiled wool coat Debra got for Christmas, touch, touch, touch, jackpot, this was the one. She chose the silk nightgown with a matching robe that was trimmed in a fluffy feather boa. It fit her like a glove and flowed off her body in a very sheer fabric. She sat down in front of the dressing table and brushed her hair, next came the make up and the jewelry. Then she walked down the steps in Debra’s black pumps and opened the refrigerator to pour herself a glass of orange juice. Just as she sat down at the kitchen table and opened the newspaper she heard a car door slam. She jumped to her feet as her glass of orange juice shattered across the floor. She tugged at the slider but it wouldn’t budge. She then saw the wedge in the bottom track and removed it. The door slide open, she kicked off her shoes and ran across the lawn, around the shed and to the side of the house. She peeked around the corner to see Dan open the front door and walk inside. Penny made a dash for her car and drove off down the dirt road in Debra’s see-thru nighty. She said her heart was turning summer salts, but it was the most exciting twenty minutes of her life- even better than sex.
Penny laughed as she touched the souvenir she was wearing. It was a pearl necklace that belonged to Debra. Penny said it was the best pearl necklace she ever got.
Who could make something like that up? It must be true!