I’m a marshmallow.   I try to be all bad-ass but the reality is I’m all soft and gooey.  I found that out during my last failed job.  Way back in the beginning of this blog, I wrote a post about all the failures I’ve had in my life, there are many.  My last job at the casino can now be added to the list.  I was a complete and utter failure.  The reason being that I’m not as tough as I thought I was.

As I stated in a previous post about customer service, the casino environment took me by surprise.  It is a clash of cultures, genders and classes.  It is not a overtly happy place unless you are winning.  If you are losing, it can be a place full of despair and regret.  I, myself, have lost money there that I did not have to lose.  Luckily, I’m way too cheap to gamble too much. The feeling as you walk out of the building without so much as enough money for lunch from the dollar menu is a sad feeling.  Regret hits hard because no one made you lose all your money, you freely do it with no further recourse. This puts a strain on the average person who may not have the extra money to lose.  This comes across in their treatment of the employees.  That’s when I learned about my true self.

Being yelled at, talked down to or completely ignored hurt.  I should have been able to shrug it off but each infraction cut me like a knife.  Had I been a little more thick-skinned, as they say, I may not have noticed.  I know as a child and young person, I was extremely sensitive to people’s words and actions.  I put on an abrasive front at times just to try to protect myself.  Unfortunately, that didn’t help as much as you would think.  As I got older and life kicked me a bit, I thought myself to have finally toughened up the soft, thin skin that was me.  Then came this job and I realized after crying inside, as well as outside, that the progress I thought I had made was not quite my reality.

I had to make a decision.  Stay and maybe harden up a bit or leave with my tail between my legs while keeping my soft, gooey center in tact.  I chose to stay marshmallow-like.  I do not really want to harden my interior.  My exterior could use a little toughening up but I’m not sure that will ever happen either. I find the softness of spirit keeps me human. There have been times when my personal wall was so thick, and I tried everything I could not to hurt anymore that I lost touch of my humanity.  Those are not fond memories and I would rather be hurt than do the hurting.

As sit here and contemplate my latest failure, I realize the failure would have been if I had stayed and rebuilt my personal wall.  The victory was actually deciding that the fit was not good and cutting loose early enough to maintain my soft, gooey center.  It may appear that I am weak because I’m not hardened but if that’s the case, I want to continue to be weak.   It helps me be empathetic.  It helps me understand human struggles.  It helps me care about my fellow human beings.  

So for today I will celebrate my inner marshmallow.  I am blessed that the management team at the scenic railroad allowed me to return for another season.  I now truly appreciate them and my passengers who treat me well.  I had to step away from the train environment to realize just how lucky I am to fit in some place and that I’m able to use my soft, gooey center to help someone have a good day.  I took that for granted but not anymore.  Here’s to being a marshmallow! 

The life lessons just keep coming. I’m starting to wonder when you finally get to the plain where the lessons have all been learned.  Maybe that marks the end of this life as we know it.  Until then, I guess, the lessons will just keep coming.

The last few weeks have opened my eyes to some facts of life that I thought I was worldly enough to know. The conclusions of my observations are that I am nowhere near as knowledgeable about life as I once suspected.  Human nature has certainly taken me by surprise. 

Racism is alive and well in this day and age.  I was naive enough to have thought that, as progressed human beings,  we had put all that in the past.  I was incredibly incorrect but the parameters are slightly different than I would have ever thought.  I have been called a racist several times over the past month.  By me adhereing to the constraints of my new position, it causes me to make choices based on certain member status.  This criterion is not based on anything other than the amount of money spent with my employer.  When someone does not meet that financial level, they unfortunately have to wait for service.  I have found when I adhere to these corporate mandates, I, all of a sudden, become a racist.  

This took me way back at first.  How could I be called a racist?  The decisions are not made on race, yet the words flow freely from one’s mouth.  Other situations have come up and I have been called stupid as well as rude, sometimes all in the same day.  Honestly, at first, I cried.  I felt bad but than I got mad.  The words only come spewing forth once the offended party realizes that things are not going how they think they should. It may not be fair, but it’s hardly a case of racism. 

Didn’t Dr. King protest about segregation and the mistreatment of people due to the color of their skin?  Wasn’t it about gaining basic rights and treating all persons with respect and dignity?  I wholly understand that if I was choosing one race over another to progress to my register based on color, then I would be racist.  But that’s not how it works.  I have to choose my next customer based on a tier system that is open to everyone.  I am not necessarily comfortable with it either, but I do not see it as a racism concern.  Yet, I hear the words ever too frequently.  

I try my hardest to treat every person I come in contact with with the respect that every human being deserves.  Yes, things have happened in the past and still continue today, but I try never to add any more negative energy into this world.  Like most people, I am abhorred by the blatant mistreatment that has occurred to many different races of people.  Unfortunately, I do not have the power to change any of it, but I do have the power to control how I personally act toward others today.  That’s all I can do and I take the responsibility very seriously.

With that being said, shouldn’t there be an expectation of being similarly treated by my fellow man?  Instead I have been talked down to, insulted and generally brushed aside like some unfortunate means to an end.  So many more people than I ever imagined treat the workers of this world as an inconvenient necessity.  Where is the march for food service workers or retail customer service personnel?  The main misconception is that if you are in food service, retail or other careers involving working with the public, you are somehow less human than the rest.  Basic respect does not seem necessary when working with “my kind.”  Since I am so lowly, I cannot possibly have feelings…that’s what it feels like to be ignored and brushed aside.  The overall impatience with the tasks I have to perform have a tendency to overwhelm me.  I’m getting these people a table at a buffet, not getting them to a conference on world hunger.  It’s just dinner….try to be civil, at the very least.

I suggest that every person should be made to work in food service, retail or the janitorial trades once in their lives.  The experience is eye-opening to say the least.  You get to feel what it feels like to be cast aside, spoken down to and basically ignored because of a misconception of who you are and what you are made of based on the fact you wear a name tag.  If every person could experience this, maybe the world would start to see a change in how people interact. The person who is just too busy or just too important to say good morning back, would feel how it feels to be ignored. The person who is just too important to get off their phone during a transaction would feel what it’s like to try to service a customer you cannot even communicate with.  You would feel the wrath of an angry customer who feels slighted and will yell and berate you for minutes because of some minor issue.  

If you think these people do not work hard, try standing on your feet for seven hours straight, being abused by customers, and doing all sorts of behind-the-scenes work for the price of a latte an hour.  Don’t get me wrong….granted it’s not brain surgery but the work is generally long days and the work is hard.  I know what you are thinking…..it’s a choice I’ve made and that’s true.   That’s not really my point though.  My point is that if we all honestly tried, even for a few seconds, to put your feet in the shoes of someone else than there might not be so much meanness and ugliness in the world.  Let’s face it, we can’t all be CEOs of large companies, someone still has to check out your groceries, clean up the messes, type the letters, and any other varied tasks that need done.  All I ask is that from time to time try to imagine what it’s like for the person behind the counter.  It may seem like a brainless job to you but I can almost guarantee that it still takes some knowledge.

To all the people who have yelled at me that I am a racist because my employer mandates a certain protocol.  Please know I am not racist and the implication is definitely not appreciated.  Please save the terminology for situations where real infractions have occurred. Using the term because you had to wait an extra five minutes to be seated at the buffet does not seem to qualify. Also, please try to spread appreciation to all people. Feeling valued can go a long way to making a person try harder.  And for the clerk who really does not care about their job, well, that’s going to happen. Just try not to yell threats and/or throw things. You never know what a person is going through. 

Let’s all try to be kinder to one another.  It doesn’t cost anything, except a few minutes of your day.  If I let it, this job could very well harden me. I’m making a serous effort to not let that happen.  I want the world to be a better place so I will keep trying. 

I always said I just want to be content and I’ve strived for that all my life.  Last night, my mind was full of dreams.  All kinds of dreams, some that were work-related, some made sense and others were way out there.  I’m not sure what caused an entire night of dreaming, but they made me wake up thinking about contentment.

Why is contentment only a temporary condition?  Most people strive for the glorious feeling when all the things in your life are aligned and life seems to make sense.  When it is all good.  We allow ourselves to bask in the lovely glow for a short time, then we wait for the next thing to happen that will start us feeling discontent all over again.  Waiting for the next shoe to drop, if you will.  

The next thing always comes along to take us from that perfect place.  Why is life that way?  Why can’t we, as humans, feel content for more than a fleeting moment?  That’s when I started really thinking.  If one is too content for too long, complacency creeps into their lives.  And just what does complacency bring to the table?  Nothing actually.  There is no desire to learn anything new.  There is no need to see anything new because the status quo is working.  

I realize now that we were not made to sit happily in a rocking chair looking at the landscape with total peace.  Sure we have those brief moments, but we were made to accept the challenges set before us.  I avoided the challenges whenever possible because they generally hurt and are not fun.  But it is those life challenges that make us better people if we are open to it.  Don’t get me wrong there are many challenges that life throws at us that seem unfair and sometimes you can get pummeled with multiple challenges at one time.  Some challenges last a short time and are resolved quickly while some linger for what seems like an eternity.  Pain is what many challenges bring and pain is not fun.

But then I got to thinking where I would be if I had stayed cocooned away from the world.  I would have missed a lot of hurt, but I also would have missed out on the feeling of accomplishment one gets when you finally get to kick the challenge in the pants and send it packing.  I would have missed meeting some of the most incredible people.  You can’t meet people when you are hiding.  I would have missed having the chance to grow as a person.  I think back on those dark years when my fear had me convinced I was content but I was too afraid to see I was miserable.  I definitely did not see any growth as a person.  And worst of all,  I would have missed the opportunities to help others.

That’s when it really hit me.  It is the need we have inside to help others that causes us to not be content.  Life is hard for you and me but there is always someone who has it harder.  Sometimes they caused it themselves and sometimes the shoe that dropped was much heavier then one would have expected.  So maybe that’s why the human race finds contentment so elusive.  Because there is always someone to help or some change to be made.  Maybe it is those challenges that keep our blood pumping and our minds always looking for something better.  

I get exhausted some days from the constant looking, looking for that time and space where I have peace and am content.  I think I’ve been looking for the wrong thing all these years.  For whatever reason, my soul is restless but it’s not for peace.  I think, dare I say, I’m looking for the challenges in life. Didn’t I say I don’t like challenges because they hurt?  Yes, I did say that but I was wrong.  I sit complacent and the meaning drains from my life.  I think I’m too tired or too old to jump the hurdles.  But without those hurdles I feel like I’m drowning in mediocrity.  That is the feeling that scares me the most.  I always thought it was the fear of stepping out of my comfort zone when the reality is it is my fear of NOT stepping out of my comfort zone.

That could be why I can’t seem to find what I’m looking for.  Because I’m looking for the wrong thing.  Oh I don’t know. This life and what we are supposed to do with it is so confusing. There are no maps or a GPS to guide us the right way.  The journey is tiring but it can also be exhilarating.  I just wish I hadn’t wasted so much time looking for the wrong thing but I guess it’s all part of the master plan.  You have to make a few wrong turns in life. That’s just how it is.  My experience has not shown me a lot of straight lines from A to B.  Guess that what makes the journey epic. 

Now instead of hitting my head on the proverbial wall looking for constant contentment, I will look at contentment, however fleeting, as a gift to be cherished then move on.  I need to look differently at what I’m looking for.  I hope this path brings me a little closer to where I’m supposed to be.  I feel like I’m in a loop but maybe one of those elusive dreams from last night guided me to this place.  

The beach has never held my attention. I love to look at the water, but it just wasn’t for me.  Today, I’m sitting alone in a new place near a beautiful creek, feeling a little out of place and listening to the Jimmy Buffett station on Pandora.  The soft breeze blowing through the curtains and the lapping noise of the creek have me rethinking my previous judgement on beach living.  Why not the beach?  The warmer weather is definitely growing on me, I never miss the cold, ice and snow any longer.

The mountains completely changed me, but now I am a little uneasy….like another change is imminent. I have this strange and very strong urge to buy a pair of flip flops. I am thinking of trading my work boots in for a pair.  So how does a girl who has hardly ever even worn a pair of shorts in public change her entire attitude toward a warmer lifestyle?

I’m digging the laid back vibes of Bob Marley, daydreaming about drinking a cold adult beverage (or two) while reading “Where is Joe Merchant” (by Jimmy Buffett) and feeling the sun’s rays envelope my skin like a cozy blanket fresh from the dryer!  

One of my biggest problems is that I am totally dedicated to a life full of worry and anxiety.  Those things have defined me for years.  If I don’t have something real or imagined to worry about I actually get anxious and start to worry more.  Hardly a day goes by that there isn’t a huge knot in my stomach.  I stand constantly wringing my hands waiting for the next bad thing to happen.  It is an exhausting way to live.  Sleep is difficult as that is when the panic comes and the days bring no relief.  

Can the beach help me with these feelings?  Can I start a recovery program from my addiction to worry and trade the anxiety in for a life of sun and peacefulness? I have seen many pictures of friends and family vacationing at the beach.  The common denominators are the smiles and the looks of joy. The places my be different and the people’s life situations are varied and complicated but joy always looks the same.  There is something to the sand, water and the sun.

My journey has been about finding peace. I’ve tried different places and different lifestyles. The peace has come and gone.  I’ve had brief periods of it and I really like it. I know now it’s not about things, it’s not about what others think of me, and it’s not about conforming.  It’s about being comfortable in your own skin and trusting that God is opening new and exciting doors. I have to put the worry, the stomach knots and the wringing hands in a sealed box and throw it deep into the ocean never to be seen again.  

Does the beach hold a place for me?  Not right now but soon maybe.  I really need to get my head right as well as my heart. Finally I’m starting to see that all the worry hasn’t gotten me anything but sick and tired. I’ve had nights I wished I would not wake up, just too tired from the constant drain of what little energy I had. That’s all about to change. 

I don’t care where I’m at, but I’m going to live with that beach ideal.  The beach may only be in my mind for now but I can sit by the river with a frosty pour while listening to beach music and pretend the sand is warming my toes. It’s not so much about location as it is attitude.  You can choose to be miserable in the most beautiful place in the world or you can find peace wherever you are. I’m going to choose the latter.

I’m off to get those flip flops.  It’s not much but it’s a start. Maybe one day I will wear a pair of shorts…..let’s not go too crazy. One step at a time. 

Last year was an amazing year for me.  I had a new place to live and the ability to live simply.  I found a job that tested me on many levels but it made me happy nonetheless.  I was rewarded nicely for my work and I felt like a part of a team that worked together through thick and thin.  I met some of the most amazing people on the train, some of whom I still talk to. My mind was opened to new music, books and the ways of southern living.  As I have written before, the mountains and the rivers transformed me.  All in all, amazing does not begin to cover the experience.  

Last October was the hardest month I have ever worked in my life.  I was exhausted.  I was looking forward to the end of the train season.  It was a rough year and I thought some R&R would be good.  Seems like all of November I slept.  I was physically more worn out than I had originally thought.  I felt better come December and I was ready to start thinking about the next chapter in my adventure.  I went down a few dead end streets, then a few more.  Soon it was the new year and I wasn’t even close to figuring out my next step.  My old friend, depression, visited and rendered me feeling hopeless.  Money was running short and the continuous stream of job rejections fed the hopelessness.  That is when I thought I would write my last blog piece, the one where I finally realized that last year was the high water mark and that I would never be able to recreate that particular magic again. 

I resigned myself to the fact that I had tried some new things and I had “played” enough, now it was time to get serious again and act like an adult.  After a few more months I finally was offered a position and also find a new place to live close to my work.  This all felt weirdly familiar.  Safe bets, 401(k), insurance….the whole nine yards.  I should be thrilled, right?  

But that mess inside of me that filters through my brain and my heart made me realize that I have some corrupted DNA that does not allow me to adhere to norms.  Please do not get me wrong, my new job is nice, my co-workers are great and I am darn lucky to be working again, but gone is last year’s spark and wonder.  The shock and awe I felt last year is now filed in my memory banks.  

So does this mean I will just have to buck up and settle?  Probably for the time being and that’s ok.  I am a adult and I need to act like one, but it doesn’t mean the journey is over.  Robert Earl Keen wrote and sang a tome for all of us who are always looking around the corner for that new big thing.  He said “The Road goes on Forever and the Party Never Ends!”  A few months ago I gave up looking at the road ahead because I feared it would look just like the road I am on now.  Nothing would change and there would be no spark. I decided to not look because of my fears and in return I felt hopeless.  Then I heard Keen’s song and I realized that the Road now and in the immediate future might look the same, but around that corner up ahead is the next new thing.  

I’m sure this may seem like jibberish to some, and I totally understand that.  But for years I did not allow myself to think outside of the box I was trapped in.  I saw the unknown as something to fear.  I kept myself squirreled away living the safe life and watching the real life pass me by.  I do not want to be that person any longer.  I have had a taste of an epic journey and although things are safe now, it doesn’t mean the party, that is life, won’t commence once more.  I suppose I need this time to regroup.  

I have seen doors open for me where I never knew a door existed.  I mistakenly thought the hidden doors in my life where gone for good, but instead I realize they are up the road a piece.  I need to take my time, enjoy this part of the journey and wait for that crazy curve in the road. I understand now that neither journey type is mutually exclusive. I let the veil cover my eyes again, the veil covers all hope and leaves nothing but darkness in its wake.  Now I can see again, I don’t know what’s coming but I have to be ready for it.  Let the party begin!

As long as I can remember I have wanted to do something different, be untethered from convention and live a simple life. It took me many years and a LOT of help from friends and family, but I was able to take a leap out of the norm and travel and experience new things.  

I am thankful I was able to take the driving tour, to minimize my lifestyle, to find a new place, to work on a train and to connect with new friends and reconnect the old friends.  I am humbled that I was able to have this opportunity in my life.  My epic journey was not the journey I had dreamt of all those years.  It was a different journey then I had imagined but life changing nonetheless.  

I have been struggling these last few months, after the train job ended, with what to do now. Reality has started to set in and I feel it is time to say goodbye to the epic journey.  My plans of economic freedom, I now understand, are just illusions.  I got rid of the stuff and have done fairly well without accumulating new stuff.  But when you become one illness or one car problem away from disaster, you have to become realistic and go back to being an adult.

I always wanted to end up in the Keys drinking rum and writing like my hero Hemingway.  This has been the first time in my life that I have had the chance to just write and I was at a loss for words.  My ideas dried up and I sat aimlessly in front of the computer unable to construct a decent sentence.  I tried paper and pen with the same result. I realize now that sometimes your reality cannot live up to your dreams.  Without words, there is no writing. 

Learning about myself and other people has been my greatest joy during my journey.  My heart has been touched by so many.  I have met other travelers, many half my age, who are living the life I dreamed of.  They are free from the constraints that bind so many of us.  They are free souls riding the winds wherever they may blow.  I have seen that life up close and my life pales in contrast.  I believe it is a young persons game and I tried to join in past my prime.  

If it sounds like I’m feeling sorry for myself, please note that I am not.  I am standing on the other side of my epic journey with an entirely new sense of gratitude and world view.  I am changed, I am anew.  I am also realistic in the knowledge that at my age I am not likely to be able to continue riding the blowing winds to the next adventure.  Life has a way of making the carefree life become very difficult.  

So it’s back to a normal job for me as well as some sort of order.  Putting to bed the grand dreams knowing I was one of the lucky ones who got to test drive an epic journey.  It is because of so many of you that I was able to try this experiment.  I could not have done this without your financial support, your love, prayers and encouragement.  I’m indeed one of the luckiest people on the planet to have been able to live my dream  no matter how long it lasted.  Thank you everyone from the bottom of my heart.  I love you all.

Will I continue the blog?  I am not sure at this time.  I’m not sure what lessons are left, not that I know everything but I am not sure what earth shattering revelation is left.  Although I have learned that you never know the road that you will end up on.   I may someday continue the epic journey.  I like to think so.  Only time will tell.

Now it’s time to find a real job and go back to being an adult.  My dreams are different now.  I no longer dream of a life on the road with everyday being its own adventure. My dreams were full of color and the unknown.  Today’s dreams are more subdued as if in black and white. The passion fire has gone out for now.  This is just a new chapter in a life full of uncertainty. At least I can look back on my epic journey with the fondest of memories and the utmost gratitude.  

It was a hell of a ride.

I’m in a slow season right now; in between jobs and living with uncertainty about my next step.  This gives me a little extra time to play games on my iPad. I do not like to waste too much time playing but it can be relaxing on occasion. I do not play war games or anything like that.  I like matching or word games.  As I was playing one day, a life lesson came to me.

In this particular game that I was playing,  you have to capture the items listed.  For example, you may need to capture 30 red gems and 50 blue gems. You are given a certain number of moves or a time constraint to accomplish the goal. The screen will be filled with extra pieces of different colors or pitfalls to complicate the task.  I’m not saying it is brain surgery but you have to think things through a little bit. 

So I am playing one day and the task is fairly large and the number of available moves is fairly small.  I just kept running out of moves before I could capture the necessary gems.  After about 20 tries over several days I thought it through. I was missing something.  There had to be a key to winning this level that I just wasn’t seeing.  I looked closely at the screen and contemplated its layout. It was always the same.  The colored gems I needed were all on one side of the board.  The other side contained items not necessary to move on to the next level.

It was then I realized that my compulsive nature was making me clear the entire board which inevitably ran me out of moves before I could finish.  I had to change my way of thinking to forget about or block out of my mind the pieces I did not need.  This made the board messy and that made me uneasy.  But when I concentrated on just looking at the gems I needed I was finally able to complete that level and move on.

I thought to myself that life is a lot like that silly game.  There are lots of things to look at and lots of things that waste your time that have no real meaning on your life.  I like to check things off my always growing list of things to do, but some of those things do not have any bearing on my life or the path I am trying to take.  I want to check them off the list for the sake of doing it but I will not have progressed any from doing that.  I would only have kept the “board” (aka my life) neat.  Neat was always my thing in life, order, but now I realize order for the sake of order does not necessarily make me the person I want to be.  Sometimes you have to skip over something of lesser importance in order to reach a goal that allows you to move on to a new level.

It is so easy to get bogged down and overwhelmed with all the extraneous things that you cannot see the important ones.  That’s where I have been. I’m trying to look at too many things at one time and I am missing what’s really important.  I want to take a cue from a video game and start ignoring the things in life that do not feed my soul and concentrate on feeding my soul good and healthy things and ideas.  

Finding a life lesson from a video game reminds me that knowledge is everywhere.  You just have to have open eyes to it.

“Relaxing feels like failure” as said by Nathan Fillion’s character on Con Man

This last few months have felt like failure to me.  My job on the train ended and I have been unable to procure another position elsewhere.  Too much time on my hands + nothing real to do = low self-worth with a side of depression.  I have always dreamt of having some real quality time to do all the things I have been putting off.  As soon as I clocked out that last time, all ideals of what I wanted to do started to elude me.

I have been struggling with  feeling like a complete loser that has no job and no prospects.  I thought the time would be like a muse to me and fill me with creative ideas.  But because I have made my own personal self-worth based on my ability to work for money, I have been left with the reality that my quest for self-awareness has come up short.

I had hoped that I had come further in my journey then this, but it seems I am still short on how I actually view myself.  I absolutely hate to admit that I rate or value myself on paycheck size, accolades and positive feedback. All those things are contrary to my ultimate mission in life. Because I use those markers to mentally evaluate myself, when they are no longer present I have no way in which to gauge my purpose in life.   The work I have done this last year seemed to fly out the window as soon as my “work” stopped.

I’m not blaming my personal view on society but we do live in a society that highly values accomplishments.  Size does matter as in house size, car size, office size, etc.  I thought I had walked away from those inflated, unrealistic notions of self-worth.  I realize now that simply thinking that does not remove all those ingrained ideals and world views. I was over all of it while I was still involved in it by making money and getting positive feedback from my customers and co-workers.  Once I no longer heard the praises or saw the money in my account, I lost all sense of me.  That is the most pathetic thing I have ever said.  

My personal low self-esteem manifests itself in a low functioning daily life.  I oversleep and overeat which leads to a modest form of self-loathing and overall self-pity.  Then the more I feel useless the more destructive I become and the cycle continues. 

It’s a new year and I could make a laundry list of things I have to change.  The reality, however unfortunate, is I will fall short and do so in a very timely fashion.  That’s not feeling sorry for myself, that’s my proven track record. So what’s a girl to do?  I realize that I need to make a conscious effort to change my way of viewing myself.  It can no longer be based on external components but on the guidelines that are ingrained inside of me that control right and wrong.  Am I on a path to betterment, a path no one else necessarily sees…then I’m moving in the right direction.  Am I wallowing in depression which makes me inable to function…then I’m moving in the wrong direction.  I realize that I have to get over myself once and for all.  I need to stop grading myself on the worlds grade scale.  I want to be my own person wirh a strong sense of self that has no reflection on how others see me.  

I dream of being strong in character and living a life of service to others. I cannot do that if I grade myself on accolades and bank balances.  The two ways of life are in constant opposition. That’s not to say that I don’t get off my butt and get a job.  What it says is that whether working toward a purpose (outside of ones self) or in a season of downtime I use my time and skills for bettering myself and the world around me.   There will be times of busyness and times that are slower.  I need to realize that both seasons are important to life and cannot be judged on criteria based on what someone else is doing or how effective I feel.  It has  to be authentic and evolved.  

Even though I have had a tough time of late, I have managed to learn more about myself and more about what my next steps should be about.  I hope to have a new job soon but in the meantime I hope I can rally my internal troops and make the most of the quiet time to become more enlightened. 

No one ever said self-awareness was easy!  But it is worth the time. 

When I think of writers I think of tortured, anti-social souls who are so dissatisfied with life their only outlet is putting pen to paper while downing cheap whiskey and smoking Marlboros.  They rarely shower or leave the house.  Most people would run screaming away from this life. I, on the other hand, find it oddly appealing.  Is that bad?

Now I realize that is a stereotype and it is not a necessary truth.  There are many writers who live lovely, normal lives.  I just cannot subscribe to that theory.  Writing is a solitary exercise and the more in pain you are, the better the words. It’s like comparing yesterday’s rock stars to today’s pop stars.  My rock heroes trashed hotel rooms, took copious amounts of illegal substances and lived “the life.” They lived this mythical existence that mere mortals can only dream of. That is how I see Hemingway, Burroughs and Thompson.  (Mostly) Men who did not conform to societal norms, men who blazed new trails and changed the world with their words.

I used to think I was not good enough to write anything, that my sheltered experiences did not provide me with the necessary tools needed to put words to paper in a way that would have any meaning.  I realize my need to travel, my need to move was my attempt to create experiences worthy of writing about.  I thought if I did the whole “On the Road” thing the words would magically come to me.  That I would suddenly become profound and relevant. 

Lots of free time allows me two things: (1) more time than is really healthy for introspective thought processing and (2) time to talk myself out of writing.  I question my degree of how much my soul is actually tortured.  I question my ability to even put a string of words together.  I have no idea what a dangling participle even is.  I can’t picture myself taking drugs or drinking booze in order to become a writer. So is that scenario even possible for me?  

All I ever wanted to do was write. I realize now what has held me back all these years. I did feel I didn’t have much to say in the early years.  My experiences were not enough to write about. I did find that living life does fill the archives with some notable material.  But it is more than that, it is about fear.  It is easier to not do it than to try and fail miserably. It’s easier to start “tomorrow” instead of digging in today.  I felt like I had to have all the planets aligned and every scenario anticipated before I could ever write.  I waited and waited for everything to be perfect before I started.  Guess what?  Nothing ever aligned, nothing was ever perfect, and the exact time never came.  

So what happens when you put a dream on hold?  Doubt becomes your best friend. Insecurity is a close runner up.  The less you do the thing you love, the less inspiration you have. When I am in a zone, words fly through my fingertips onto the keyboard, not necessarily great words, but words nonetheless.  When I am sitting around thinking about writing, the words do not come.  I suppose this could be true of any artistic endeavor, like songwriting, painting, and the like.  So how does one get and stay in the zone?  

I do not know.  But I have learned that if you do not make a serious effort, the outcome will never be good.  Note to self: the effort may never pay off either, there is no guarantee.  If you, at the very least try and fail, you will have been true to yourself.  There will be no time for regret or doubt.  In real life, failing is not the negative thing we are taught it is.  The negative reality is to never have tried at all and it has nothing to do with being tortured.  

I know I’ll never write an epic novel like “Atlas Shrugged” or will probably never win the Nobel Peace Prize for literature and now I realize that is ok.  But I have to try, if I fail, so be it.  I may write and maybe fail, but it is still better than not writing and truly failing.  It’s time to stop waiting for something to happen and make something happen. 

Good luck to all you dreamers out there.  Embrace the uncertainty and feel the inspiration.  Fear no more and run straight to your dream. You won’t regret it!  

After five days of being down with the flu and bingeing on Netflix, I have come to an unusual conclusion. I adore broken people.  Dean (Supernatural), Martin Riggs (Lethal Weapon), Raylan Givens (Justified), Walt (Longmire) and Dexter to name a few.  I got to thinking about why these characters have intrigued and fascinated me over the years, some even to obsession.  

The common denominator is that each one is broken in one way or another.  Life has dealt them some really hard knocks and they are all missing pieces of themselves due to their situations.  Yet each one of these fictional characters uses the brokenness to right the wrongs of the world. These men get into our hearts because of their pain and because of the compassion gained from their pain.  Each one is hardened, yet tender.  They are tough on the surface, the face they show the world but ache and cry when away from prying eyes.

I absolutely love the contradictions and the complexities of each broken psyche.  I find myself rooting for them like some underdog.  I admire their ability to get out of bed in the morning when it would be easier to just stay tucked away.  I long to see their vulnerabilities and share their pain.  

We, as humans, all experience life changing shocks; Whether it be loss, illness, and/or any difficult situation.  Those things change us. I have talked a lot about this in previous posts because I feel it is essentially important. I have vacillated between trying to show the world how fine I was and being a total basket case.  I denied my own brokenness for years with a facade of normalcy.  But it is not in the normalcy one finds growth, it’s in the brokenness. Not much in life is harder than smiling on the outside and breaking down on the inside.

I have not really discussed my years of struggle with infertility. I tried through two marriages and over 20 years to get pregnant and it never happened.  A few people know that at the age of 17, I did have a child that I gave up for adoption. I was not going to be a very fit mother at that time and I did what I thought was best.  Little did I know it would be my last chance at having a child.  The years of trying and testing, the years of hope and crushing disappointment took its toll on me.  I believe many of my odd behaviors were channeled through the monthly loss of a dream.  

I tried to put on a brave face to the outside world, but those closest to me had to deal with my brokenness.  I watched friends, family and strangers have children.  Many, to me, seemed to get pregnant effortlessly.  I cried, begged God,  bargained with God and got mad at God.  Nothing changed the situation. I was completely helpless. I could not will myself pregnant and it really made me angry.  I had to be just horrible to live with.

After the last thirty years, I have finally found peace in the situation and realize it really was for the better.  The twinge did hit me once again as my friends and family started having grandchildren. Another experience I would never know.  The peace has come but the brokenness is still there.  That experience has led me to understand the importance of compassion, for understanding brokenness; to see below the surface, under the exterior into the place where people really live.

The pain I feel at times is epic and is normal at other times.  I have finally quit trying to bury it and have accepted it as a part of me, like my hair or eye color.  Once the acceptance appeared I was able to finally move past it and learn lessons from it.  No more running from the pain.  I hope I can finally use the experience to help others somehow.  That door is yet to open. 

That’s why I love my broken boys.  They show me it is ok to be broken, there is no shame in it.  Asking for help is not a sin and giving help is the best medicine there is.  We all have our brokenness and once we realize that, maybe we can start being kinder to each other, more forgiving.  Imagine the concept of being broken as a way to heal the world.  It’s worth a try.