Posts Tagged With: love

don’t f**k with Mr Zero

Years ago, I adopted a saying from the movie When Harry Met Sally.
“Don’t f**k with Mr Zero.”
I am Mr Zero.
Do not f**k with me.
And for your own good, do not f**k with my kids.

We were at the U.S. Capital building on Monday. A tour with YBW’s cousin, her husband, and their three year old daughter, who are visiting us from out of town. Joining us, YBW’s brother and Thing G.
All was well until YBW’s brother displayed a bit of “hangry” behavior. Y’all know what hangry is, right? Means you act like a great big dick with the excuse that you’re hungry. (note: that’s my definition, not Webster’s or OE’s)

Now I know something about hangry…only I never actually called it that. Thing 2 is hypoglycemic and can become grouchy when her blood sugar is low. A quick protein-rich carbohydrate snack to bring her blood sugar up quickly and keep it up, and boom! She’s right as rain.

Anyway.
YBW’s brother needs to eat. Like, yesterday.
So Thing G offers him a piece of gum to tide him over. Well, the gum is declined. Not rudely, but not exactly with politeness either. Thing G being the Thing G he is, is happy to accept the decline of his offer, but wants to explain why he offered the gum. His uncle doesn’t want any part of hearing it. He turns to the kid and just shouts, “NO!”
And that’s when my hackles go up.
Don’t talk to my kid like that, mother f**ker! (Only I don’t say that out loud.)
What I do say is, “Whoa, how about no thank you?”
I take Thing G by the hand, who is still trying to explain…
His uncle says, “I’m just hungry!”
I reply, “I understand that, but don’t take it out on us.”
So I hold Thing G back a moment as his uncle keeps walking.
Thing G says, “I just want to explain why I offered the gum.”
I got close to his face and said, “Let it go, bud. He doesn’t want to hear it. But you can tell me instead.”
By this time YBW has caught up to us, I signal to him that I’ve got it.
Thing G explains that sometimes when he’s hungry, chewing a piece of gum will tied him over until he can eat.
Makes a kind of sense.

I’m freaking livid.
Don’t you talk to my kid like that. I don’t give a damn if you’re hangry or not.
But I calm my heart and take Thing G’s hand and we go down the stairs together.

Meanwhile, YBW’s brother has eaten and has returned his normal likable self. So instead of letting this eat me up inside, I let it go. I protected the kid when he needed back up and he’s safe so I can retreat from momma-lioness mode. And we talk and joke and move on about our day.

A bit later, YBW comes to me and says, “Thanks for defending my kid.”
I look him in his eyes and say, “He’s my kid too. But, you’re welcome.”
Thing G sees this. He has a little smile on his lips as he takes his next bite.

Now, I ride that kid hard, and sometimes we don’t see eye to eye.
But I will cut you before I let you be unkind to that kid, or treat him with disrespect.
I love him.
He is part of my brood. Therefore under my protection. Now, I might kick his ass, but I’ll go down swinging before I let somebody else do it.

Of course, Thing G will eventually need to learn that he won’t always be able to express his own point of view. He’ll have to figure out how to accept that and function through it. He’s grown so much in the last four years. And I don’t just mean he’s now taller than me. I mean he’s beginning to advocate for himself. He’s beginning to show how capable he can be. He’s beginning to figure out his place in the world. This is trick for any seventeen year old, but especially so for one with his diagnosis.
But Thing G isn’t his diagnosis. It’s taken his family quite some time to really understand and accept that. It’s taken him a bit longer to understand and accept that. He’s a work in progress. (Like every single one of the rest of us.)

When it comes to the children in my brood (however grown), listen well. All of you.
I am the Mistress of All Evil and I. Will. Cut. You.

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occasionally I burst into song

Standing in the bathroom yesterday morning. YBW is shaving and I’m doing my hair.
I begin to sing about what I’m observing. Just belting it out, making it up as I go along. The tune comes from nowhere, the words are silly and mostly make a kind of sense that doesn’t.
He chuckles.
I say, “See! Real people sometimes burst into song in their daily lives!”
He nods, “Yes, but you’re not singing verse after verse.”
“Neither do I have a choreographed dance number.” I say with a wink.

Folks really do sing at random as they go about their day.
Sure, huge orchestral music and background dancers aren’t involved. (At least not in my random song bursts.) But there are times that life really is a cabaret, old chum, and one must burst into song.

Not all of us are fortunate enough to have the Sherman brothers

or Stephen Sondheim

be our personal lyricists.
But that’s OK. When you’re moved by the situation and need to create a little music about it, go ahead. Belt it out! Sing as though MGM has created an entire technicolor soundstage as a place for you to stand.
Sing the song of your life.

After I sang about personal grooming, I switched into Libertines mode and sang I Get Along

So sing your song. Sing loudly or quietly. Sing on or off key. Sing with your eyes wide open or shut. Sing the song of your life. Sing the words and tune that happen in your soul at any moment.
It’ll make you feel good and if someone gives you grief or causes you to feel embarrassed, just remember my favorite line from I Get Along:

I get along just singing my song, people tell me I’m wrong.
F**k ’em.

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paying attention to my gratitude

I’ve been thinking about what it means to feel gratitude.
What it means to appreciate what’s important in your world.

These thoughts have been bouncing around for a few days, inspired by my therapy appointment, another with the acupuncturist, and a long-overdo conversation with my beloved sister in law. And though these thoughts are not as fully formed as they might become, it feels to me that they’re ready to hatch.

In living my intention, I’m inclined to believe that in love, all things are possible. But somehow I think it’s more than that. Well, perhaps not ‘more’, as much as ‘in addition to’. (Remember up there where I said these thoughts might not be fully formed?)
Nothing will ever convince me that the word with which I intend to live my life is not love. But…I’m always open to adding new meanings to my personal definition of love. And that’s the pinball of thought that’s been bouncing around in my brain.


A woman I love so dearly commented, “I just love this pic and your life.” in response to this photo.
And you know, for the first time in a while, I stopped and actively thought about it. I love my life too!
I mean I really love my life!
I’m grateful, thankful, and joyful for who and what I have in my life!

I get stuck in my head so frequently. So damn frequently that I don’t actually stop to look around me. And I miss it. I miss all the little things. Sometimes the big things too. And in those moments of recognition, gratitude bursts forth from my heart like a dam breaking.

I don’t think the people in my life experience my gratitude. How could they really, if I don’t?
I told YBW how much I appreciate him. How grateful I am for him. Not only as my husband, but as a human being. His kindness, his patience, his ridiculous sense of humor. My life would be lacking without him.
I’m not sure he feels it. So I’ve charged myself with being more mindful about showing my gratitude, especially to him.

I’m grateful for new and different healthcare providers that have helped me feel well for the first time in years. Thank you for helping me move from a place of being actively sick, to being actively getting healthy!

I’m grateful for my nieces and nephews, none of which are my blood kin. The love we share is sacred. Each one of them is so precious to me. And when I get a random voicemail from one announcing he’ll be in the area with his boyfriend and best friend looking for a place to stay, there is no hesitation. I simply open our home to them. Wherever I am will always be home to my giant brood of children, grown as they are.

I feel gratitude for the relationships I have with my stepsons. My love for them is much bigger than I think any of them understands. Thing C and and Thing G are a blessing in my world. They’re teaching me how to understand boys in a way I have never experienced. And though I’m quick to say I need more estrogen in my world, I’m grateful for the life lessons these guys share with me.

I’m grateful for the women I love. The ones that call me when they need to be talked off the ledge, or that I call for the same reasons. Though we may not see each other or talk as often as we’d like, not a moment has passed in the in between.
That by my precious Sally saying she loves my life, I remember to stop and love it too.
That when Nicole calls me from across the country because she can’t break the cycle of chaos in her brain, I can tell her that she can’t fix it. And it settles her because she knew it, but needed to hear me say it to get there. That Jessica and I can speak of all our joys or troubles with love and understanding.
That Sundance and I are able to communicate oftentimes without even using words.

I’m filled with gratitude when I see my grown girls living their lives. That Thing 1 has become a woman I am constantly awed by, yet retain the feeling of knowing what it’s like to hold her in my arms and keep her safe.
That even though my relationship with Thing 2 feels more like navigating a minefield at the moment, my heart fills with gratitude for all the years of loving each other.

I’m so much more grateful to YBW than he can even imagine. I took a leap of faith all those years ago, and trusted him when he told me he thought he was falling in love with me. That leap of faith has brought me great joy and some pain. But mostly it’s brought me love. A new and different way of loving. When I think “hashtag love my life” so much of that is because of him. I’m the me I am now because of my relationship with him.
Now, I’m the first to admit this me is still me in progress…but I’m a pretty damn good me.

Huh! Looks like Destination Girl is learning to be grateful for the Journey after all.

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pinball machine thoughts

I’ve been sick since we got home from NYC. Is it allergies? Is it a virus? I don’t know, but there is enough mucus for several people sloshing around in my head.
The coughing is even worse. Because after two babies my pelvic floor isn’t what it used to be and I’ve had more “accidents” in the last two weeks than when I was a toddler.
TMI?
My apologies.
I’m just keeping it real here in my nest.

I still haven’t gone through the photos I took in New York. I mean I moved them from the camera to the computer, but there they sit. No edits. Nothing in my ‘to be printed’ folder. I’m either really taking my time or I’m just not up to it. Either way, I’m about to have loads of time on my hands. Only eight more days of school (including this day).

We did have a lovely time. We walked everywhere! All the way down to the Brooklyn Bridge, half-way across, and back.
We ate delicious food. Drank good wine and spirits. People watched in Washington Square Park. And even got shouted at by a creepy homeless guy.

Vintage shops were a disappointment.
But the bookshops were not!
At Strand (18 miles of books, don’tcha know) I found some very cool used books, a brand new one I’m pretty excited about, and bought my very first Moleskine notebook à la Dash and Lily. Only mine is navy instead of red.
At Books of Wonder I drooled over the books in the rare collection. (22K for a first ed. of Where the Wild Things Are signed by Maurice Sendak with a Wild Thing doodle.)
I spent a goodly bit of time choosing a couple books I couldn’t leave without. If I still had a preschool classroom I would have bought more. There were (are) so many books to use as the jumping off point for lesson plans!

I’ve been thinking a great deal about the Thing 2 situation. We still haven’t spoken, though we have exchanged texts. I’m not sure how I can help her in her journey. I’m not sure it’s my place to help her at this point. I do know that “getting yourself together” shouldn’t be a reason not to be together.
I wonder if children have any idea how hurtful the things they do really are. I believe they know instinctively that nothing will make a mother stop loving her child…but I wonder if they understand that one can only bend so long before there is irreparable damage. I wonder this because I don’t know the answers. I wonder this because I know I hurt my mother in my growing up.
It’s hard for an adult child to believe her mom is still protective of her “baby”. That makes sense to me. Only, Thing 1 and I have come to a new place in our relationship. One of mutual love and respect as adults, with a bit of “I need my Mommy” and “I want to protect my baby” sprinkled on top.
A mother’s love has many forms. Looks many ways. Is unpredictable yet constant. That will never change. But it doesn’t mean a child’s words and actions aren’t hurtful. I think even adult children don’t understand that their parents are just human and get their feelings hurt. That realization didn’t really resonate in me until I became a mother.
I don’t know. I love that little girl (yeah, she’s my “little girl” even though she’s about to celebrate her twentieth birthday) but I feel like this must be one of those times of ebb in the great ebb and flow of our love in this life. I hope the tide changes. It hurts more than I ever expected it would.

In the category of ‘getting yourself together’ I’m working on that too. Starting back to school after a three month term break.

Nah, it’s cool. Two more terms and I can wash my hands of this foolishness. Not that a degree is foolish…just I’m so over it. It’s taken much longer than I’d expected and I don’t want to be in this degree program anymore. Only it’s too late to switch to anything else without more courses…
I feel a bit like Marlon Brando in Guys and Dolls. “Stick with me baby I’m the fellow you came in with.” Only it’s not luck…it’s a degree plan.
Whatever. At this point it’s fulfilling a commitment to myself and a means to an end to move into a M.Ed or MSW program.

It seems my thoughts are bouncing around in my head like a pinball today.
You know what? That’s OK.
Let ’em bang around bouncing off each other for a little while.
It might be a great way to start the summer.

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at one with myself

Today, for the first time in a quite some time, I wrote a long stream of consciousness email to my friend Jack. In the process of that, I had a relatively quick text conversation with my friend and mentor, Jessica.
I’m sharing them here this evening because I’ve been moved by the power of my own thoughts and feelings.

I sometimes wonder if I enter this sort of ‘calm before the storm’ mindset before all hell will begin to break loose. I say that partly because after a three month term break, I’ve no choice but to start a new school term in June. I’m so over it and my heart isn’t in it anymore, but I’m no quitter. So I’m going to get it sorted as quickly as possible and finish up and be well shot of every bit of it. It’s strange to be in a degree program I’m no longer passionate about. But I’m so close to the finish line now and I absolutely refuse to trip!
And partly I sometimes think I’m not terribly successful at loads of “free time”. But, the last time I had loads of free time, I was sick and miserable and depressed and just over all pretty pathetic.

Or perhaps I really am ready to tackle all the things I’m excited about along with this six month term I’m not.
We’re about to find out.

(excerpt from email)
I’m feeling healthy for the first time in literally years. I know I’m finally ready to get crack-a-lackin on doing what’s good for me, for my life.
I still struggle with how sick I was and how much it negatively impacted my life. My sense of self. My over all well being. Even the people around me.
Feeling well, feeling healthy, well, it’s a gift really.

I think I’ve been in crisis mode the entire time I’ve lived here. First I had to adjust to leaving my friends and job I loved. Leaving my children.
Then my child “disowned” me.
My father suddenly dropped dead.
My child officially moved here but left again in six weeks.
I had surgery on my foot.
I started planning a wedding (yay but stressful)
Then I got sick.
My daughter’s wedding.
Then the huge upheaval with YBW that threatened to change everything.
And finally I’m coming out the other side of all of that.
This all happened since August 2103.
I’ve been in survival mode for nearly four straight years. AND been sick through half that time!
It’s no wonder I’m feeling as though I’m not in control of myself or my life. I’m finally able to feel like I can tackle living my own life!

Now, there were amazingly good things in this time too, but some of them were also stressful.
I’m realizing I’m not considering these as “bad” things, just things that were stressful. Things that kept me in that crisis mode. Never truly moving past that initial survival time.
I think if I hadn’t gotten sick it would have been different, but I did do. And I’m finally feeling less and less like a sick person and more and more like a real person!

So while I’m conceptually ready to consider taking on the world, I’m smart enough to know that I can’t just jump in with both feet. That I can’t attempt to tackle too much all at once. That will overwhelm me and send me into a downward spiral. So I’m seriously creating a “daily schedule” for how my summer days should go. Just as if I was still running a preschool classroom.
I’ve not yet put it to paper, it’s still in my brain. I have anxiety about putting it to paper just yet…once I write it, it will be hard to adapt and change it. I feel more comfortable planning a bit longer.
Though, quite possibly, I would benefit more from getting it down on paper and seeing it. I’m a visual learner.
To write it and see it would make it real.
If it needs to be changed I simply start again. By erasing. By chucking it in the recycle bin and writing a new schedule.
I’ll most likely need to tweak it as I go in the beginning because it may not work the way I have it planned out.

Yes. I must write this schedule out for my own review. To see what I expect of myself each day.
Here’s the thing, with the exception of course work, it’s all stuff I love and want to do!! It’s freaking summertime! I have nothing pressing that isn’t a choice I can make!
I’ll write. I’ll do lula. I’ll garden. I’ll do projects around the house. I’ll have to do school work.
But over all, these are things I love! These are the ways I long to spend my time. I oughtn’t feel pressured by scheduling them so I can maximize my time and abilities.
Yes! I think that’s it.

Wow!
I’m having this ‘conversation’ with you and I’m having a text conversation with Jessica about Thing 2. In both conversations I’m really introspective. I’m aware of where I am, yet not feeling compelled to “over function” in either situation.
(end of email excerpt)

In the case of Thing 2, I told Jessica:
I kinda wanted to update you on the Thing 2 situation. I sent this text late the following morning:
It’s important you understand that I’ve not responded because I’m not sure how I’m going to respond, and not that I’m not responding simply out of spite.
She responded later in the afternoon:
It’s no big deal if you can’t, really. Don’t worry about it

Jessica replied:
Interesting. What is your gut telling you?


Then I wrote:
I think that should worry me, but it does not.
Jessica responded with:
I urge you to stop judging your thoughts and just begin to notice and accept it. The ball is in limbo. Be patient. You will know when to go forward.

Seriously y’all! This is the kind of introspection I’ve got going on today. And it feels good. It feels really really good.
I feel at one with the universe. But even better, I feel at one with myself.

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International Week of the Birthday ~ day seven

Well, my birthday night Nats game was a rain out. Postponed to create a double header for Sunday. I wasn’t even bummed! I totally expected the rain out.
But we didn’t find out till we were already on the road. It’s cool, with some quick thinking we decided on an early dinner at an Irish pub in Fairfax. I drank my fill of Harp and ate the most delicious grouper. (Not traditionally Irish I know, but good golly it was yummy!)
Headed back home in rush hour traffic in the pouring rain, made a quick stop for ice cream before coming home to open my pressie.

New (Nats) sneakers. Jammies. A book, two movies (La La Land included!) and a CD so Alan Cumming can sing me sappy songs whenever I want.

At school, the kids in the lunch room sang to me on two separate occasions. The boys in the classroom sang to me in the morning when I dropped off the cupcakes we would share that afternoon, and when we had the cupcakes! They even made me cards! Sweet boys!

I got “happy birthdayed” all over social media. Received many a text and phone call celebrating me with love. Precious Thing 1 even sang to me!
All in all, it was a great day!

For starting out slowly, and some disappointing bumps along the way, I have to say that International Week of Robynbird’s Birthday has been a success!
Most importantly, I celebrated myself!
I felt celebrated by those around me. Got to do, and eat things I love. Was able to treat myself to pretty purple toe polish, and a brand new handbag. Had to threaten to show my driver’s license to someone that didn’t believe I turned forty six. And over all just felt super-loved. Even by people who weren’t near me.

Today is the last day of IWotB and I intend to capitalize on it! That means special dinner (I’m not sure what it’ll be just yet.) and I’m thinking…angel food cake with fresh berries. Yum!
Happy Birthday to me!

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International Week of the Birthday ~ day five

Cocktails on the porch last night before breakfast for dinner made for a rather happy Robynbird!
It’s pouring with rain this morning and chilly in the 50s. March weather in May seems weird to me.

I celebrated myself today with a pedicure!

Came home, put on my jammies, and now I’m going to make champagne cocktails with Cat Head honeysuckle vodka!

Aren’t they pretty?

Last day in the countdown…tomorrow I’ll wake up and it will be my birthday!
I suspect it seems strange for a grown ass woman to be so excited about her birthday…but I don’t care!
Let’s celebrate me!

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lifting them up in love and light

They say death comes in threes.
I don’t exactly know who “they” are…but that’s what they say.

I find it is true.
In the last two weeks, three people I love very much have experienced death.
Now, I was only truly close to one of the deceased. The mother of a girl I grew up with. Amy’s mother loved and taught and mothered me just as she did her own five children.

The other two deaths are further removed. Each of them is the father of a guy I love. I never met these fathers, but I love their sons a great deal.

My friend Jack’s father left a whole in his world and he’s been struggling so. It pains me to know this, to know that I really can’t help. He has to heal in his own way.

I got a message from Thing 2 this morning, she wanted me to know her arrival time might be delayed. The young man who is her true and dearest friend has to bury his father some time in the coming week. I’ve know the young man since he was an awkward preteen in middle school, with an unhealthy crush on my daughter. He grew and matured as a young man. I loved to watch as he took the stage with both my girls in high school. Turns out he and Thing 2 were meant to be the best of friends!

My heart is heavy for my friends. Dealing with this painful grief. So if you don’t mind, would you all join me in lifting them up in love and light?
Love and light to you, Amy and Jack and Lane.

It just occurred to me to wonder if I’m feeling this love so strongly on this particular day? Today is the anniversary of my own father’s death.

I’m going to love and light myself a little bit today, too.

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a great break

I spent my Spring Break visiting Thing 1 and husband N in their new (to them) home! I enjoyed being in a new role with my daughter. Being on her turf. Though she was quick to utilize my mad organizational skills to help her finish getting settled.
With all sincerity, we enjoyed being together in this new way. Our love was deep and wide and so pure. Even though the drive was a bite in my ass, I’m so pleased I went and shared that time with her.

At the county plant farm I was amazed to find affordably priced plants of top quality. So many herbs I couldn’t even choose! Trees priced for real people, with real incomes. I was awed by the plant life and garden supplies. One trip just isn’t enough.
Thing 1 went home with this gorgeous hanging basket fuchsia.

My mobile carrier has no towers in this particular part of Georgia, so I spent the week with spotty cell signal. And you know what? It was kind of cool to be disconnected! I did speak with YBW every couple days just to touch base.
What I found myself missing was baseball. (natch) But to my delight, I was able to take in a T ball game while I was there. Husband N’s little cousin plays in the county rec league for the Yankees. So Thing 1 and I went to watch that sweet little dude play ball.
I loved this sign reminding us to pay attention.

As much HGTV as I watch, you’d think I’d know how sugar molds are huge in home decor right now. Yet I found myself surprised to discover sugar molds at Corner Market Trading Company. This little shop run by these precious people made me oh so happy!
Thing 1, Husband N, and I were as kids in a candy shop in this place! I found several things I’d like to have at home, but what I actually ended up purchasing was a sugar mold. In addition to it being painted the perfect Robynbird color, it reminded me of our honeymoon in Barbados visiting the sugar plantations. I simply couldn’t leave without it.
Wanna see what I did with it?
Yeah, I knew you would!

I debated between making the sugar mold a home for these gel pens or my amazing colored pencils. In the end, the gel pens won out because I couldn’t bear to mix up the ordered perfection of the colored pencils in their metal box.
YBW walked by my desk and chuckled, “You put them in color order.”
Well duh!
Then he patted my bottom when he passed me and said, “Of course you did.”
I could hear the smile in his voice.

I had a great Spring Break!
Spent time with my girl and her sweet husband.
Got to see gorgeous plants.
Went to a ball game.
Did a little shopping.
Bought a super stylish (and meaningful) way to sort my ever growing collection of pens.
And I got home in time to go to see the Nats beat the Phillies!
I forgot being on a school schedule is the absolute best!

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drama is seventh-grade but I’m not

You know what I get sick of?
Drama.
And I’m talking some serious next-level-seventh-grade drama. Only the participants are not really seventh graders, but adults.
I’m not going to get into specific details, but I’ll say that someone I dearly love is being treated to a ‘mean girl’ extravaganza. She cut the perpetrators from her life, so then they began to work on her college age daughter. She can’t stop that without tipping her hand. The daughter must learn for herself what is going on.
You know how kids are, you can’t tell them anything. They have to experience everything for themselves. Sitting back and waiting for the other shoe to drop is particularly painful for the mother of this young woman.

We’ve all been there. Caught up in chaos. Some of it our own making, some of it we’re simply chaos-adjacent. A mother’s instinct it to protect her young. But there comes a time when the young must learn lessons not taught by their mother.
That’s downright painful.
The mother can fret and get all spun up or she can close her eyes and wait for it to be over.
I know of what I speak.
I’ve done both with both my girls and I promise you both suck.
Staying back, whether it’s with eyes closed or completely spun up, is the only way to get through it. When the child comes out the other side, she experienced something she couldn’t be protected from…but she learned an invaluable life lesson.

I’m one of those strange women that doesn’t actually like drama. I have little patience and can’t abide something outside of my control to have that much impact in my life. Chaos-adjacent is bad enough.
I know people who thrive on the drama. Love to swim round in it until their fingers are all pruney. That is not the life for me. I don’t need that kind of attention. I don’t need that kind of adventure. I don’t understand that desire for constant chaos.

Do we sometimes make bad choices in who we choose to let into our world? Sure. Should we blame ourselves to the point of complete loss of power? Nope.
My beloved person living in this chaos said to me:
I can’t believe I let someone in my circle that easily, what the f**k is wrong with me. I made a stupid mistake and now my people are paying for it.
I responded:
This is not entirely your fault. You must stop blaming yourself. The only choice you have it to accept the way it is. I know it’s easy for me to say that. But if you let every little thing get to you, you’re going to lose your mind. You can’t lose your mind because then the 7th graders win! You’re stronger than drama! You know who you are. Dig deep and find that nugget and use it to your advantage.

We all have that nugget of power deep within us. Sometimes the way to wield that power is to do nothing at all. That’s the hardest action…non-action. Sitting and waiting for the inevitable to play out. Knowing someone you love will get hurt.
Life lessons can be harsh, but we all need to learn them.

There’s one more thing…it’s called karma. And that bitch doesn’t mess about. If you’ve got it coming to you, eventually it will catch up with you. The trick is to be aware. You may not be on hand to witness karma serve a comeuppance, just trust that it will happen.
karma
What kind of person do you want to be?

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Everyday is an Adventure. Embrace it

Part-broken, Part-whole

I come here to bleed in all 26 colours of the alphabet.

Here By Design

Ideas and inspiration for beautiful, sustainable gardens.

Be Inspired..!!

Listen to your inner self..it has all the answers..

Kana Wanders

Life in Kana-text (er... CONtext)

An Accidental Anarchist

Spirituality | Lifestyle | Thought | Wisdom | Parenting | Love

Inner Journey Events

Reflections along my journey with dreamers, light workers and carriers of Earth Medicine

The Blonde at the Film

a fresh look at old films

Spring into Summer

finding my voice and speaking my truth

Ginger's Grocery

Come on in and browse. The biscuits were made fresh this morning, the Slush Puppie machine was just refilled with a new bottle of red syrup, and we have the biggest selection of bait this close to town.

witlessdatingafterfifty

Relationships reveal our hearts.

JackCollier7

Charming, cultured, generous, honest, sophisticated, understanding, and urbane.

The Georgetown Metropolitan

News, Information, and Events for the Georgetown Community

Raphaela Angelou

Love, Friendship, Art, Survival and Living with Skeletons!

That's How The Light Gets In

Books, exhibitions, films, music, places - anything that inspires. Here so I don't forget.

Sawblades In Your Walkman

I'm the rain on your parade

Joel vs. Books

It looks like the books are winning...

Quoth The Wordsmith

Dreary writing and appalling spelling? Quoth the Wordsmith, "Nevermore."

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