Step On a Crack

We all remember those childhood rhymes ‘step on a crack, break your mother’s back,’ right? However, at that point in our pleasant naitivity we never once thought about how those phrases and sayings would take hold on to us as we age. Age with beautiful, well-earned gray hairs, changes in the flesh that we speak of as if they were some terrible scar that we should hide; and my favorite facial wrinkles. Those wrinkles are well earned and tell a long story of the life I’ve lived, more accurate than my words can ever tell. Those lines by my eyes; they tell you that I have smiled a lot, worried greatly and had many thoughts of great consternation. Why should I or better, would I hide the lines that speak great volumes of the many chapters of this life.

These changes are well earned and should be worn with pride as a badge of honor that say ‘I Have Survived.’  I have lost ones that I love, seen friends succumb to their demons and fought lions. Yes, I have fought lions. Hungry, blood thirsty lions that run in a dirty pride and have attacked me at my weakest. Those lions though, cannot survive without the support of the rest of the pride.  Their numbers are lessened by the one whom dares to take them on or refuses to give ground.

But, who will step in to the central of the pride and challenge their reign?  Perhaps I will be that one little girl that dares greatly and fears not of stepping on a crack. She has seen every crack, bravely took that step and broke their back, and in the end earned one more line that can only be seen if you get close enough, or can get close enough..her new favorite line, scar or imperfection.  No, that is her perfection! Read More »

No Mas!

Some days I am good; and when I am good, I am great! I mean, like really great.  Other days, my brain feels clouded and like I am in a haze. These other days, I just can’t get anything done and spend the day chasing myself. These other days, I just want to crawl under the bed and hide from the boogie man. Don’t even bother turning on the television, it’s just all bad news of someone dying, persecuted or the world is on fire.

I need some sunshine on my face; enough to bring out my freckles. I love my freckles. They are like snow flakes that are unique and mapped out perfectly for my face. Sun in my hair and lighten it to MY real shade of blonde. Tan lines remind me that this body has been outdoors, usually sweating from a run or an afternoon on the boat.

I have pictures of the sunny me. I just haven’t seen her in person in a while. Care free and without a worry in the world.

Worry. I said it. That is the boogie man that scares me back into bed and under the covers I go.

Bullying or Criticism

Yesterday and today have been a bit challenging.  I must decide how I feel and will react to decisions that I feel are unjust and have no control over.  I may either roll with the tide as it ebbs and flows or stand firm in my beliefs and draw the line in the sand.  Many of face how we will react to similar situations each day.  My challenge is that my moral compass is so intense that I could not willingly ignore the morals, values and sense of right if I tried.  What does one do in this situation?  It is sink or swim.  Sink while trying to hold another above water, or swim in shark infested waters while bleeding from the gaping wound that was last inflicted?

This internal debate makes me weak.  Not in the sense of giving in (I can’t and I won’t), but weak mentally.  It feels like running a marathon each day, but for some reason I keeping running.

I have included a few short thoughts or statements that I have come up with and like to occasionally reflect on when I am in that marathon with another 6 miles to go.

  • It is not the criticism that I fear; it is how persuasive the critic can be in getting others to believe their opinions.
  • I can accept the criticism, if the critic can accept that in the end I was right.
  • Be careful to choose your own critics. Accept their critique with the value you place in the critic.
  • I don’t need you to point out my flaws. I am already aware of them.
  • When you find yourself fighting out of vengeance and spite, instead of your cause; it is time to get out.
  • What doesn’t kill you doesn’t make you stronger.  It leaves scars.  Scars that remind you that you have survived, that the enemy got close enough to inflict the injury and the memories of the battle.