November Blog Series: Day 4

Good afternoon, my peeps. It is day four. I’m jammin’ to Def Leppard as I type this. I just love great 80s tunes!

And I’m not sure how “Hysteria” progressed into the thought of food, but I’m already thinking about Cajun-flavored fried turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes and gravy, green bean casserole, rolls, pies, cakes, cookies… Ahhhh! Make it stop! We still have about 20 days to go. Have a feeling I might be crawling away from the table when that day comes. I really hope it’s cold outside on Thanksgiving Day. There are few feelings as gratifying as stuffing oneself sick with yummy food, then retreating to a dark lair to curl up under a blanket for a lazy afternoon snooze with a brisk chill in the air outside the window.

I know patience is supposed to be a virtue, but for all of the instant gratification we find ourselves hungering for (no pun intended), it surprises me that a working time machine hasn’t been invented yet.

And since I will likely save my list of things for which I’m thankful to blog about on the actual day we celebrate, I have generated another list. This one is just as important, and reminds me to appreciate even the smallest, simplest wonders in life. There are 30 on my list, though I can think of hundreds. I figured 30 was a safe number, seeing as there are as many days in this month.

Things That Make Me Smile

1. The sight of a rainbow
2. Children’s laughter
3. Catching a glimpse of a shooting star
4. When my niece tells me, “I love you, Kellie. You’re my best friend.”
5. The permeating smell of baking chocolate chip cookies
6. Seeing the decrease in the numbers on my bathroom scale
7. Getting lost while driving, and accidently finding a more scenic route in the process (and then figuring out where I am, of course)
8. Skipping rocks on a summer pond
9. Whistling at my horse and have her come running up to see me (even though I know she just wants sweet feed)
10. Crying at a movie’s happy ending
11. Feeling overwhelmed with emotion at a friend’s wedding when the groom gets to kiss his new wife for the first time
12. 80s music – especially cheesy, old-school 80s music (and love ballads, and classic rock, and…)
13. When my dogs jump all over my legs, tails wagging, because they’ve missed me all day long
14. A smile from a stranger
15. The lingering embrace from a family member/friend when I haven’t seen them in a long time
16. Dancing in the living room with my dad
17. The way my parents still look at each other, even after 40 years of marriage
18. Singing along with a great song on the radio, windows rolled down, wind whipping through the car
19. Sitting on the front porch on a nice evening, listening to the cicadas and the gentle breeze
20. Bowing my head, taking my family’s hands and giving thanks at dinner, with the tiny voice of my niece chiming in amidst all of us
21. Finding a great pair of shoes – on sale!
22. Laughing until my stomach hurts
23. Jogging a little further than I was able to the week before
24. Finishing a good book, and wishing it hadn’t ended
25. Reflecting on a deep, meaningful life experience that made me stronger
26. Sharing an inside joke, movie quote, or eye-rolling moment with my sister
27. Winning the lottery (okay, this has never happened to me, but it would sure make me smile)
28. Doing something – anything – that makes me feel like a kid at heart
29. Knowing I have my family’s unconditional love and encouragement
30. Knowing wherever I go, or whatever I face, God is both in front of and behind me

Well, there you have it. Just a few of the things that make me smile. I bid you all adieu for the afternoon. More tomorrow. I hope you find plenty of things to smile about on this beautiful Thursday, too.

Peace out, dudes!

November Blog Series: Day 3

Good morning, friends! Welcome to day three. It’s also Wednesday, which means we’re only two more days away from Friday. Yippee! Have lots of things planned for this coming weekend, but if I write about them now I’ll jump the gun on any ideas that may present themselves as potential writing material. You’ll just have to wait and see what I manage to pull out of my hat next. Could be entertaining.

Today is "National Let Someone Have The Last Word" Day. I have never been one to try and have the last word. I’m a lover, not a fighter. However, when I feel passionately about something, I will assert myself when necessary. And rather than broach that subject at length, thus leaving too much room for my mouth to get me in trouble, I will include some of my favorite words intermingled in a handful of my favorite quotes listed below (not all of them are credited)...

Jesus said, "The Kingdom of God is inside you and all around you, not in mansions of wood and stone. Split a piece of wood and I am there; lift a stone and you will find Me." (from the Gospel of Thomas)

"For by Him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together." (Colossians 1:16-17)

“Woman was taken out of man; not out of his head to top him, nor out of his feet to be trampled underfoot; but out of his side to be equal to him, under his arm to be protected, and near his heart to be loved."

"When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the airplane takes off against the wind, not with it." - Henry Ford

"No arsenal, no weapon in the arsenals of the world, is so formidable as the will and moral courage of free men and women." - Ronald Reagan

Claire: "What is true love?"
John: "True love is your soul's recognition of its counterpoint in another."
Claire: "It's a little cheesy, but I like it."
John: "I read it on a bumper sticker."
- Rachel McAdams & Owen Wilson, The Wedding Crashers

"You've got to be kidding me. Grandparents forgetting a birthday?! They live for that s--t!"
- Molly Ringwald, Sixteen Candles

Hamish: "Where're you goin'?"
William Wallace: "To pick a fight."
Hamish: "Well...we didn't get dressed up for nothin'."
- Mel Gibson & Brendan Gleeson, Braveheart

"Do you know what music is? It's God's little reminder that there's somethin' else, besides us, in this universe - harmonic connection between all living beings, everywhere, even the stars."
- Robin Williams, August Rush

"Play the sunset."
- Richard Dreyfus, Mr. Holland's Opus

"You are a great champion. When you ran, the ground shook, the sky opened and mere mortals parted. Parted the way to victory; where you'll meet me in the winner's circle... and I'll put a blanket of flowers on your back."
- Dakota Fanning, Dreamer

On the first rule of flying:
"Love. You can learn all the math in the 'Verse, but you take a boat in the air that you don't love, she'll shake you off just as sure as the turning of worlds. Love keeps her in the air when she oughta fall down, tells ya she's hurtin' 'fore she keens. Makes her home."
- Nathan Fillion, Serenity

“I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat, but always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed
I hope you still feel small when you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances, but they're worth taking
Loving might be a mistake, but it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out, reconsider
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance”
- lyrics from “I Hope You Dance” by Lee Ann Womack

"...So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It’s when I’m weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with
the Cobwebs broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig’s having lashed across it open.
I’d like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over...
...I’d like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches."
- excerpt from "Birches" by Robert Frost

Most of the above quotes are on my Facebook page as well. I actually have tons of favorites, but I would end up typing nonstop for the entire day.

I wish you all a blessed Wednesday, my friends. May you never cease to experience enjoyment in the beautiful rhetoric that allows our language to ‘feel’. May you always find humor and poetry in this wonderful ride called ‘life’.

And if you must have the last word, make sure it is a kind one. For we are not promised tomorrow.

November Blog Series: Day 2

It is officially day two of my writing challenge. Today is voting day for mid-term elections. I thought at first that I might write about politics, but in my fit of passion for that topic, I would likely end up giving myself an aneurysm.

However, get out there and do your civic duty, people! You have no grounds to complain if you don’t use your voice and make an effort regarding who actually ends up leading our states and this nation. And that is all I will say about it today.

I think I will write about bad drivers.

I am not one.

There’s a quote I think about often: “God must love stupid people, because He made so many of them.” This saying is only solidified and rings loudly true when I get behind the wheel and brave the traffic. It takes all kinds to make the world go ‘round. And on the highway of life’s journey there are a select few who have successfully managed to lower the IQ of the entire human race. These people will undoubtedly end up forcing us to return to the days of cave dwelling.

In short, here is an inventory of the most common types of bad drivers and situations. Or, at least the bad drivers and situations that most commonly irritate me:

1. Do not tail my bumper so closely that I can count your teeth or see the color of your eyes. And rest assured if I have to slam on my brakes, you WILL be buying a Ford.
2. Ladies, stop putting on your makeup while you drive. Really? Can you not get up an extra ten or twenty minutes earlier to apply it in the confined safety of your non-moving home? When I hear stories about women showing up in the ER with a mascara wand embedded in their eye socket, I have a little bit of trouble mustering up any sympathy for them.
3. Texting. **sigh** I think I will reserve this subject for an entire blog in itself. But in a nutshell, STOP TEXTING AND DRIVING! Unless you’re an octopus and have eight arms with which to multi-task, you do not need the distraction of trying to juggle your cell phone while attempting to concentrate on the road. And last I checked, the DMV doesn’t issue licenses to octopuses anyway.
4. If you are going to drive under the speed limit, please please please stay in the right hand lane. It is the courteous thing to do if you are driving 30 mph while every other car on the road is driving 70 mph. Seriously.
5. I’ve pulled trailers before, so I understand the difficulty in having to compensate for the careful maneuvering required to keep your load (and your vehicle) intact. I respect you. I do. But, you do not own the road. Pay careful mind to the cars around you who don’t weigh a combined three+ tons. We have a right to be there, too. Same rules apply to the big rigs. Don’t be a jackass.
6. Learn the all-important fluids that are necessary to make your engine run smoothly and your vehicle function safely. And I’m convinced there must’ve been a sudden inflation hike on blinker fluid, because a lot of you seem to be running low on it.
7. Do not slow down at a green light. “Green” means “go”. If you need help finding the gas pedal, it’s that thing down there to the right of the brake.
8. Thugs, please turn down your music. I really don’t want to hear you bassin’ about ‘someone bussin’ a cap in yo ass’ or whatever other gangsta beat may be flowing from your speakers. I love music. I love to jam, too. But I do not love being distracted by it while operating a vehicle. I will be more than happy to convey this to you in sign language, as the likelihood of you being hearing-impaired is highly probable in this scenario.
9. Attention: habitual lane changers. Never mind… I’m not even sure where to begin.
10. Smokers and litterbugs: I cannot gather enough derogatory words or comments concerning the two of you. Well, I can, but I’m really trying to keep this PG-13. I will never understand, or tolerate, your disgusting habit. Keep your cigarette butts and trash in the car. There are two very useful inventions that will come in handy for you – the ashtray and the trash bag. Use them.
11. Hey, you guys, you know that red, octagonal sign with the white lettering that reads, “STOP”? Guess what? That’s what it means! For real! Not, “pause” or “coast” or “roll right on through”. The word “stop” was the most efficient, abrupt phrase that would fit on the sign while simultaneously conveying a very specific instruction. It’s there for a reason. Can’t read it? Then you shouldn’t be driving.
12. Cyclists: all of the traffic laws apply to you, too. Just because you’re on two wheels instead of four does not mean you get to choose to obey only half of the laws. And when you zoom by me on the sidewalk and nearly knock me down, I will make it my mission to identify you, hide behind the nearest bush/tree/building, and clothesline you.
13. Wear your seatbelt. I do realize that the gene pool needs a good cleansing every once in a while. If you choose not to buckle up, then chances are you will eventually find yourself circling the drain…drowning in your own ignorance…suffocated by the potent aroma of bleach.

I’m sure there are more that belong on the list, but my brain can’t conjure them up at the moment. I probably should have gone with my first instinct to write about politics. About to hit the road to run some errands. I will try and avoid the traffic around the polling areas. I know for certain there are plenty of sheep, er, idiots...I mean, people there.

Oh, the stress. I can feel my arteries bulging already.

November Blog Series: Day 1

So…today begins my daily blog series for the month of November. I’ve been challenged to write and publish every single day of this month. This should be interesting. It’s one thing to write about something when the mood strikes, but it’s quite another to have to come up with material on the fly, while still attempting to maintain some aspect of creativity. It goes without saying that when one is required to do something, the notion is often approached with less enthusiasm than if the act were instead spontaneous.

I anticipate that some of my posts may be shorter than usual…or longer…or strange. Well, let’s face it, “warped” is already resting comfortably in the corner of my mind, so I imagine you can expect lots of unpredictable, idiosyncratic material. Somehow, I’m going to force myself to surrender to my thought processes, and let the brainwaves flow through my fingers to produce what will, undoubtedly, be a series of my most exigent writing exercises yet.

Since I plan to treat this as a journal, of sorts, I’ll begin today’s topic with the consumption of weird food combinations. By none other than yours truly.

This morning, I had big plans to get out of bed early and go for a walk with my dogs. I swear to you that someone must have snuck in during the night and tied me to my bed, for I awoke around 9:30 still comfortably sprawled across it. Perhaps this “person” shut off my alarm, too, because I slept clean through my snooze tune (excerpt of Scorponok from the “Transformers” soundtrack). Sneaky. Thank you.

After lying in bed and staring at the ceiling fan for a while, I finally got up and ate some breakfast. A cold slice of leftover pepperoni pizza, a slice of white cake with yellow butter cream icing (from Halloween), and a glass of chocolate milk. I know. But, I’ve always heard that if you’re gonna eat junk, then morning is the best time to do it. Following my indulgence, I sent out some emails, gave myself a pedicure, worked on a couple of designs for Texas A&M’s Department of Animal Science Holiday celebration, surfed the web (for shoes, of course!), and played a game of Scrabble on my old iPhone.

For lunch, I scrounged up some deli ham from the fridge, which I rolled up and dipped in ranch dressing, and topped it off with a handful of chips from the pantry. Oh, and I finished off the chocolate milk. Directly following lunch, I sat on the couch and stared out of the living room windows at the front yard for a while. I watched the squirrels fluff their tails as they picked around the grass under the birdfeeder, looking for tidbits. I watched the leaves fall from the trees, scattering in the yard with the breeze. I also stared at the wall, though there was nothing on it except for the drywall texture covered by moss green paint. Sitting here typing this, now, I realize that I was subconsciously avoiding this very task.

My afternoon will continue to be lazy. I’m thinking seriously of taking a nap. The weather outside is overcast and breezy – a perfect blend to lull me right to sleep. After my nap, I will probably pick on the guitar for a bit, and then do laundry. I lead an exciting life don’t I?

Maybe I’ll continue my streak of weird foods this afternoon. Wonder what Cheetohs dipped in peanut butter tastes like. Ooooh, maybe even on a sandwich…with pickles!

And, Monday, though you are the armpit of the days of the week, you bring the promise of a fresh start to an optimistic hope of productiveness. Plus, you’re only four days away from Friday.

Signing off now. Need to go chug some Pepto Bismol.

Witchy Woman

Today is Wednesday. Soapbox Wednesday. I haven’t had a good rant in a while, so I figured with it being “hump day” I would hump out some things that are bugging me.

And yes, these issues are minor, mind you, but I need to vent about them nonetheless.

First, there comes a time in each adult’s life where they need to stop dressing up for Halloween merely for the sake of going door-to-door to get candy. I could be wrong...no, I'm not...but that seems a little pathetic. What’s even worse is when they venture out sans costume, carrying a plastic bag.

Really?

Really???

If it weren’t for the innocent kids trekking through the neighborhoods (sometimes with them), I would pelt ‘em with candy corn, and then soak ‘em with a blast from the water hose. Yeah, you know who you are. If you’re that desperate for candy, my advice is to hop on over to Wally World and buy a few packages of those orange circus peanuts and gummy worms for 50 cents each.

On that note, if you are going to dress up, for Pete’s sake be creative. I know there are plenty of parties where dressing up to look like a Catholic schoolgirl or a seductive kitten is sexy, but leave some things to the imagination. Or at least, cover it up while you’re in public as you make your way from one rave to the next. Better yet, save those costumes specifically for your man. I guarantee you he will be more than happy to help you test out the strength of the material’s seams.

But, alas, sex sells.

Several years ago, I attended a Halloween party with a friend, in which several of us (including me) entered a costume contest. I wasn’t really dressed to compete, but since the grand prize was a $200 Visa gift card, I figured, “what the heck”. Know who won? A girl wearing a towel. That’s it. (Well, maybe a thong to cover up her “goodies”, but I wasn’t straining to see anything.) She was dressed up like she was “fresh out of the shower”. The panel of judges consisted entirely of men.

I swear I am not a sore loser by any means, but…yeah…will refrain from elaborating any more on that subject.

Maybe I’m old school, but I think the idea of dressing up (speaking of adults here) should be to emulate some sort of disguise. In years past, when I haven’t been too lazy to come up with a costume (or rather, had a reason to wear one), I’ve always dressed up to the point where someone will have to stop and look at me for a second, thinking who is that? I love getting into character – clothing, face paint, hair, and attitude – the whole nine yards. It’s fun. I do it to break out of my shell for an evening. Not for the candy.

Maybe this makes me sound like a “witch”, but it feels refreshing to fuss for a few moments. **echoing cackle**

Second, I am torn between being upset with my church at the moment, and resolving to just accept the decisions being made and keep my mouth shut. Sometimes I feel like it would serve me well to carry around a tiny saltshaker to add some flavor to my shoe.

But, since I’m on a roll and can’t very well squish all of the worms back into the can, here goes…

My church is hosting an annual Halloween Carnival this coming Saturday. Although, it’s simply called a “Fall Carnival” so as not to include any negative connotations that may be associated with the word “Halloween”. There will be food, fun, games, a cakewalk and face painting (by yours truly), etc. Sounds fun, right?

Yeah.

Except for one, really big factor.

Supposedly, the kids are being discouraged from dressing up. Why? These are mostly country kids, folks. They don’t get the opportunity to go door-to-door very often during this season. (The majority of the neighbors in that area are more than walking distance apart.) Let them dress up! What are the ‘squelchers-of-fun’ afraid of? That some kid might wear a “blood and guts” costume? Or dress up as a creature of the night? Just because a kid is wearing a vampire costume does not mean he’s going to hijack mom’s minivan and go on a biting rampage after everyone else has gone to bed. I mean, come on! Those kids aren’t interpreting the “Carnival” as a means to let their lunatic streak out of the bag. They see it as a chance to dress up, play with other kids, and get sweet treats.

Next thing you know, they’ll be eliminating the annual Easter egg hunt (the Easter Bunny is a thief who steals eggs from chickens), and Valentine’s (those angelic little cherubs have a mean streak, I tell you). Oh, and let’s not forget the turkey at Thanksgiving, or Santa Claus at Christmas. I could go on.

Let’s all live in a glass box, where we’re sheltered from any influential factors that might potentially cause us to have to make decisions for ourselves. Let’s make sure everything is politically correct so we don’t run the risk of damaging anyone’s psyche. Let’s never turn on the stove so we can find out the hard way that the surface might burn us on occasion. Let’s all tread carefully and tiptoe around each other so we can point fingers and be hypocrites when others trip and fall.

Now, I am in no way attacking the decisions of my church. But, I can darn sure express my disagreement with them! If the line is not drawn somewhere, then we will never have the opportunity to learn from life, or know when it’s appropriate to cross it or not. Knowing and doing are two very different things. We need the elements of distinction between them both, which enables us to grow from our experiences and apply that gained wisdom and knowledge to our lives.

Disguises or not, it’s what’s on the inside that counts.

And that, my friends, is my rant for today. Stepping down off the soapbox now.

Happy haunting! **echoing cackle**

I Am Still Running

“The outside of a horse is good for the inside of a man.”
- Winston Churchill

There are few moments more spectacular than watching a horse run freely. God designed their bodies to move…legs and muscles reaching to propel them faster…hooves resounding like thunder against the earth…stretching out into a streaming fluidity of sheer grace and beauty in motion. A sight that is so powerful, it can bring even the most hardened man to his knees in awe.

This afternoon, my sister and I took my niece to the theatre to see “Secretariat”. What a wonderful movie! Everything about it just warmed my insides; the magnificence of the horses, the message of determination, the musical score. All of these things combined made for a beautiful, dramatic story of fortitude and perseverance.

As I sat in the theatre surrounded by the other moviegoers, it occurred to me how alike we all were in the dark. There were folks of all ages sharing the atmosphere – grandparents, baby boomers, thirty-somethings (my crowd), college students, teenagers, children and toddlers. Without the glaring lights overhead to illuminate every imperfection, every scar, every wrinkle, every handicap, we were similar creatures. For two hours we all shared in our willingness to shed our inhibitions, sit on the edges of our seats, clasp our hands together in nervous anticipation, and cheer on the characters with our desire to win the race.

I marvel in the moments where life imitates art. Watching the movie, surrounded by the variety of people, I realized that all of us are running.

In every aspect of the race, we struggle to persist. We run because we have places to be, bills to pay, tasks to complete, and a life to lead. We rely on each other to get the job done. At times, we sometimes fall and scrape our knees. But, each of us is filled with the willpower to dust off our boots and forge ahead. Along the way, God graces us with the opportunity to ride instead of run. And most importantly, to help our brothers get back in the saddle, or on their feet, when they have fallen. We need each other to complete the circle of life that runs endlessly.

God designed every one of us for a purpose. Some of us are meant to be leaders, charging several strides ahead to provide a solid path for others to follow. Some of us are teachers, encouraging direction, knowledge and patience as we face difficulty and the occasional bump in the road. Some are helpers, standing on the sidelines, supporting and urging us forth, stepping in to take our place when we have to stop and catch our breaths. No matter what talents and abilities we’ve been given, we are all able to run. We each have a pace, guided by a higher hand, pushing us gently onward to the finish line.

What lies before me in the race? I don’t know. The fear of the unknown causes my adrenaline to surge, compelling me to keep going. Stronger. Faster. Farther. Trusting in the places my feet land. Embracing the notion that ‘winners forget they’re in a race; they just love to run’.

I am still running.

I will continue to let the wind rush by my ears as I put one foot in front of the other. My goal is just around the corner, in the distance. Sometimes uphill. When I reach my destination I realize that I’ve completed only a small milestone in my journey. I must keep moving along my path into the horizon. Before long, I forget that I am running. I look down and the ground is far beneath my feet. And I admonish in the fact that my roots have grown wings.

When my legs are tired, I envision myself riding that horse. Borrowing freedom for a while. Until I am strong enough to run freely on my own again. And so fast that I have but to leap into the air to soar among the clouds. Reaching for my purpose.

There are few moments more spectacular than running freely. God designed our bodies to move…legs and muscles reaching to propel us faster…feet resounding like thunder against the earth…stretching out into a streaming fluidity of sheer grace and beauty in motion. A feeling that is so powerful, it brings us to our knees.

God has carried me this far. And I am in awe.

Trifecta

Part of the benefit of having a blog is that I get to freely write about things that make me happy, things that irritate me, things that touch my soul and my opinions on life in general. It’s my little way of getting it out of my head and into the mainstream where I can reflect on my words and console my own mind.

Today is no exception, for I am in the process of removing thorns from my side. I am referring to the trifecta of guilt: regret, remorse and recovery. I greatly struggle this issue because I have allowed myself to be a doormat to the point that I’m ashamed. However, we welcome the conditions we perpetuate, don’t we?

There are many things in life I find myself regretting. But would I change them? No. What’s the point? I can’t cry over spilled milk. I just have to milk the cow again and be more mindful of where I set the bucket. I’ve found that a certain amount of drama in life breeds a certain amount of regret. Mostly mine. If I allow myself to get caught up in it, then I have no one to blame but myself. This especially applies to specific people in my life. Some people, no matter where they go or what they get involved in, seem to have a string quartet serenading their every move. Every waking moment affects them, concerns them, and is about them. Most people I know like this are generally unhappy people. And grumpy. Rightly so, because it must be exhausting carrying around that load of self-pity.

So, what do I regret? That I didn’t listen to my instincts sooner and set down the proverbial sack of bricks. That I allowed myself to be taken advantage of time and time again because I knew nothing more than to keep giving until I found myself at the end of the rope. That I allowed someone else’s constant misery to keep rubbing off on me, causing me to doubt my own decisions.

There’s a little scenario I like to do with my Sunday school kids (I teach 10-11 year olds). I put a chair in the middle of the room, and have one of them stand on it. The others get to stand in a circle around the chair, and one at a time, the person in the chair tries to pull the others from their position on the floor up into the chair with them. Not so easy. Then, each person surrounding the chair gets to take a shot at pulling the person down from the chair and onto the floor. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to estimate how many times the person on the ground is successful at emptying the chair. It makes a good point. It is always easier to bring someone down than to try and pull him up.

I am tired of pulling at dead weight.

Remorse. Heavy word. Remorse is what I feel after I’ve decided that I no longer regret my decision. I begin to second-guess myself, wondering if I’ve done the right thing, or if I’m acting out of selfishness. Inadvertently, I find myself apologizing for things that aren’t my fault. And, alas, the sack of bricks is resting securely on my back once more. The idea of trimming down my life so that it doesn’t include negativity is a romantic one. Realistically though, we all need a dose of negativity on occasion; it helps us aim for the positive, which we appreciate so much more when we attain it.

It is in my nature to reach out to those in need. But, I came to the realization yesterday that I can’t very well help others if I’m not helping myself. In this case, it is acceptable to be selfish. If I don’t preserve my own integrity, strength, and I venture to say, optimism, then I have nothing to offer someone else when life is raining down on them. Remorse unfailingly leaves me with the glass half empty.

I have a great friend, who is every bit the voice of reason when I begin to get down on myself. He reminded me that no one could make me feel bad unless I allow it. Words I’ve preached to others time and time again. Yet, why is it when I’m caught up in the moment of hurt and despair, my own creed is forgotten? When the shoe is on the other foot, being objective and supportive comes easily, but I admit that I need to toughen up and apply that philosophy to my own life. I’ve been climbing out of my hole for a long time now, and giving someone else the power to dissuade my efforts only defeats the purpose of each step I’ve taken. It goes without saying that when we are at our highest, our fall is much greater. And it’s not the fall that hurts us - it is the sudden stop of realization at the end.

When I begin to hear the violins in the distance behind me, it’s a sure indication that it’s time for me to take charge and recover.

Certain aspects of life are hard to bounce back from. That is a fact. And sometimes, regardless of how many times the same situation has arisen, I find myself trusting that things will improve. In this case, the old adage of ‘first time mistake; second time coincidence; third time shame on me’ is busy mocking me with echoing laughter. That laughter haunts me a little because it is my own. No one is responsible for allowing the doormat mentality other than me. Progressing from that mindset, I am forced to close a door on a piece of my past. It hurts. I would be inhuman if it didn’t affect me in some way. But, I comfort myself with the notion that a little bit of present hurt will produce a tenfold of relief and peace of mind as the end result. Have I made the right decision? The conditional circumstances that led me to that resolution have assured me so. Time will tell. And somewhere up the road I’ll realize that I’ve recovered.

My “voice of reason” also reminded me of all of the opportunities that lay before me. Despite the ‘dark and gloomy’ from whence I’ve emerged, there is plenty ‘bright and shiny’ up ahead. The road before me is paved in positivity, and the potholes are slowly but surely waning. The possibilities before me are things for which I’ve poured my heart and soul into, and the determination behind achieving them is invaluable.

Fresh start. Clean slate. It’s time for me to stop regretting, and appreciate standing in my chair.