A Woman on the Verge

A year in review. What does that mean to you? Do you look at simple experiences or do you integrate emotion into those experiences? Do you feel the intricacies of how every significant situation made you feel, what you learned from it, what hurt you, what became a blessing from the hurt?

Some years I go into this time of reflection with fear. Truly. Fear for what I have experienced, and not wanting to relive those experiences. Afraid that I wont know what I learned from them, or worse, that I hadn't learned anything. You get over that fear though. A walk down memory lane becomes less dark, but rather a path lit with realities you created along the way.

In years past  I see that there have been struggles along the way, and the path lit was straight and narrow. Taking all the right steps, making all the right turns, where bumps flattened out, where trees fallen had been lifted. Its a path fulfilled, its a path clean, its a path fresh and ready to transition me into a new year.

This year it's different. This year has been the hardest year of my life. Not only in experiences, but in true self discovery. Watching old family home videos the other night made me realize how quiet of a person I am. Maybe not always in the way it seems, but I catch myself in my own head. My words are the most powerful thing I have, Scribbled, and strung along lines of paper, waiting for someone to come along and understand them. I use this as a motto for my life, a channel for my creativity, and a token of my hope for every uncertainty my life holds.

I learned not only what it meant to hold onto someone, but I learned what it meant to let go. I learned that those we want to hold onto the most, are the hardest to keep a strong grasp on, they are the ones we fight the hardest for, at whatever expense {physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually}. I learned that holding on only brings tears. It's an inevitable abandonment. It's your worst fears come true, it's everything you wish so hard you could push away, without the strength to do it. I still don't know where that very thin line is. The one where you lose strength in holding on, where your emotions cause that vigor in which you retain a grasp to be translated into weakness, and where the right kind of strength takes over. But it happens, undeniably. Sometimes it takes days, other times, months, and in my case, years. Being caught up in your own head is a channel for flaws to arise, and instability to result. A clear mind, and a heavy heart cause that burden to finally lift, and you can let go. Sometimes I still wish I knew exactly how it happened. I wish I could diagram the process, but the inconsistency of the mixture is a disheartening recipe.

This year, I learned what it meant to love, but not be in love. I also learned what it meant to be truly angry. Anger so intense that it clouded everything, it stopped my feet, it sank me like quicksand. The only anger that has ever caused me to wonder if I could ever forgive. An anger that broke me, for however short a time, that fueled me in all the wrong ways.

And these are just the small lights along the way, the flickers on my path leading to catastrophe, to complete darkness, blackness that sank me into its depths and in its refusal pushed me to fight the hardest I have ever fought for anything.

The most important lesson I learned this year, has to do with what it means to exist in a world I don't control . I found success this year, a success that I have wished for so long I could experience. A life of mediocrity evaporated into my life where invincibility was a norm, and where the light that led my way was bright, far from a cry of perfection, but I didn't realize that brightness was blinding me.

Its like a train you ride for a while, vision clear, but the speed you take blurs the imperfections in the world around you. Your vision, so unfailing during that time doesn't see that, it sees the colors that come together. But that train never stays above ground for long, and at the blink of an eye you enter a tunnel. Dark and cold, your vision is no longer your own but put into someone else's hands.

You lose control.

This is the year that I found my faith. In the midst of threatening circumstances, in the midst of fear so blinding it takes your sight and extinguishes it, in the midst of a locked door with no key you find a way to move through it. God is the only way. He is the way I have moved mountains of fear this year, he is the only way I have taken back the right kind of control, and let him light my way.

Lessons within lessons within lessons.

Family and Friends are the glue that hold me together, the strength when I am weak and the light when everything around me goes dark. They are the support I need when my knees give out, they are the channel of understanding that keeps me sane, they are the truth in a world of lies.

I have learned a lot in the last year, but as I look back, I don't see that clear and finely lit path, but rather a collection of obstacles moved barely inches for me to pass. A messy stream of realizations that, rather than a light on the path my realizations form a star pattern in the sky which leads me to here. It's never going to be easy, a single blink can be the difference between light and dark.

I am a woman on the verge of something great. Something life changing, and yet uncertainty is the only thing that is certain. I live my life faithfully and without burden, but with a beautiful blindness that proves one lesson to remain true:

I would rather follow a collection of stars leading me  through a messy and beaten path, than to hold onto darkness.

Chasing Ghosts

Why do we feel the need to constantly chase after things that don't exist?
Maybe they never did. 

We lead ourselves into fantasies believing with everything that something, or someone, exists. Emotion leading us blindly to a faction of truth where lies exist. A lie within a truth which exists so scarcely that it masks nonexistence, creating a ghost.

You saw him there though. You remember his eyes, the way he smiled at you, the cadence of his voice and the tiptoeing of his feet as he climbed next to you. You can feel his arms around you, his words move through you, your heart both heavy and lifted at the same time. Most importantly you remember the care he took in every conversation, trying so hard to help you see his perspective. Those words that meant so much to you. 

And then it was if a claw came down and took him. Or the existence of him. And as the loneliness sets in you begin to wonder if there was something could have done differently, if there was some grave miscalculation that brought you here. Then you remember there can only be one, there was only meant to ever be one.And anyone who stands in between was meant to become a ghost, passing in the night. We learn not to chase the ghosts because of the fragmented reality it creates.

We move forward and hope that, that which we let slip into darkness was never meant to be our light.

A Powerful Downfall

Anger. 

Betrayal. 

Destruction of Trust.

I don't think I ever really understood the power of anger until just recently. I am not an angry person. I love even when it's difficult, give even when it is undeserved. Vulnerability in its most passive state. 

I've never thought twice about trusting those who I care about. I believe in honesty as if an innate characteristic of humanity. I observe the world through innocent eyes despite the true and undeniable pain I have felt so as to not become bitter. I have refused to believe in evil as primal and betrayal as a societal norm.

Anger. 

It's probably one of the most life threatening emotions. It has the ability to turn your life upside down; to tear your perspective into unrecognizable pieces; to disfigure rationale and question conviction. Anger is a betrayal of your mindfulness and a conquest of your innocence. 

The world, though observed through the same eyes, yields a very different spectacle. Resentful epiphany soaks your vessels by channel of an excessive heartbeat, weary concern, and disingenuous regard. Thoughtfulness becomes an inconvenience and the willful ability to defer any fragment of obstinance simply fades into oblivion.

You betray the perceptions that create you, you destroy that argument which supports humanity.

The destruction of trust, leads you blindly through pain. 

It leaves no allowance for gain, no hope for retrieval, and no truth where the lies have invaded.

Epiphainein

I have been feeling inspired lately. I have been feeling inspired by something I don't know that I have ever relied on too much before now. Mostly I find my inspiration in the world that surrounds me. I find it in nature, the way that the land has its own language,  how it speaks to me in therapy, as if it is the only energy that really fills me. I find it in the closest people to me, the ones that never leave my side, who never give up on me, and who remind me that hope is better than living in darkness. I find it in my faith, in the belief of a being so powerful that it guides me without a concrete presence, an idea crafted by the most divine nature, a concept of life that carries me.

But this time, it's so different. This time, I am inspired by myself. I spend so much time burdened by who I am. And so often has it led to me searching for confirmation from others. Validation that I am a good person, with a good heart, and a beautiful presence. A burden that has led me to the wrong relationships. A burden that has kept me from pursing the right ones. It is a burden that has forced me to look for someone or something that sees me, but yet who i truly am felt invisible,  even to myself.

The last two years of my life has been nothing short of being stuck on a plane constantly rocked by turbulence. Pain that knocked the wind out of me, and me trying to catch my breath with the air of yet another saturated situation. I have had a lot of time to think about where I have been, and the things I have seen. The mirrors that hold up in my memory reflect confusion,  they reflect a lost soul, they reflect weakness.  I have felt betrayed, by others in my life, by circumstances both within and beyond my control, by my emotions, and most of all by myself. Each reflection a stigma of sadness. Each eye sparkling with a fear of defeat.

I keep thinking that I should feel bitter, or resentful, about these things. That I should be jaded by the pain, blinded by the defeat, paralyzed with fear. But rather than a feeling of debilitating weakness, the muscles contract and with every pump is a stream of hope continuously flowing through me. Failures becoming my opportunuties, and my success' building a staircase of baselines that never seem to summit. My biggest fear being that with every passing situation that the reflection will start to read nothing, as opposed to emotion,  regardless of its positive or negative charge.

Yet I continue to glimpse back,  and retrospectively find a twinkle of hope in every sparkle of fear. Hope that something more is meant from me, hope that one day I will feel the cleansing release of love. Love from another person, love for something I do, and love for myself. I am inspired by my courage, designed to prove that optimism is stronger than pain and fear, designed to lift me above the failure, and plummet me into opportunity. I am inspired by my perseverance,  not just to continue moving forward,  but to continue to hope.  Hope that the future is brighter than anything defining my past. Hope that one day I will find someone who sees me, not only for all the best parts of me, but for all the worst.

Your beauty is defined by who you see when you look in the mirror, not by who people tell you to see. Your strength is defined by your failures, and your courage to rise above to opportunity. Hope can be disguised in fear, it can be limited by pain, it can be stripped away by distrust. When you let go of the resent you hold for yourself, you will begin to hope for the future. You are your own worst enemy,  isn't that what they say?

Finding an alli in yourself is more than a reliability, it is a validation.  Proving your courage is more than a declaration,  it is a staple of your self worth. Seeing yourself, is what brings the world to their feet.

Four White Walls

White.

Multiple meanings strung together

Incomplete, forgotten, uncertain

Mind voided, voice unheard, stories not yet begun

White. 

Formerly a color of comfort, now the color of fear.

Surrounded with no escape.

Meaningless panic 

Bound by circumstances.

Limited power.

I sat on the inside.

I forgot to look up.

Frantic. Motionless. 

I contemplate my next steps

No movement comes.

Not to my lips, nor to my feet.

Thoughts still racing.

Heart still pounding.

Does an answer exist?

Suddenly you're there

Vague and blurred, yet unmistakeable

You look up, fear keeps my eyes on you.

Gesturing up, calmness in each motion

My head tilts, light catches my iris

A circle of warmth draws closer

Pulls me, lifts me, breaks me free

I stand on a meadow of opportunity

My feet with adrenaline 

I see a horizon.

Beauty, Strength, Opportunity

All was lost and now I see

Life worth living

Love lasting

Hope fueling.

Faith worth keeping me here.

Wine soaked logic: Wasted Time.

Moments lost in translation. Lost in the universe never to be found again. These moments so significant in the minute, so memorable by the hour, so influential by the day. 

Mistaken. Lost. Hidden.

What is wasted time? Is it that time which we cling to so unaware of our surroundings? So stubborn about our future. So distressed by our past? We cling to this time in moments of emptiness to remind us that we have a right to feel it. To remind us that we didn't waste our life. 

What is the reality? The reality is that we have allowed ourselves to divulge into a picture so smeared, or so intricate and complex that all our eyes capture within the moment is a stroke of the brush and the colors which create it. We can look down and see our feet on the path, but what we do not realize is that as we draw closer to the idea of utopia, we find ourselves betrayed by reality.

The limitations of our canvas do not exist. To escape meant missing out on the masterpiece. To the colors within we felt connected to one another. We believed in the power of these  primary colors to become advanced to grow into something we have never known before. 

Time.

The clock twists. Logically, full of numbers, equations which never surprise us...What happens when those numbers become smeared? Like the colors of a painting? The numbers lose meaning, the time loses weight in logic, the circle of reason becomes a radius, constantly spinning, but never slowing for understanding, but rather becoming a hypnosis.

Painting with numbers, Its the time you realize doesn't exist, so much so that you forget your wasting it. So what creates this circumference of colors? Is it the man who calls you names? Is it the mistake you made that will haunt you forever? Is it the frustration that feels as though will always be there? Our spherical canvas that shows no escape route is created with these moments, spotted with mistakes, void of logic. 

Pain is illogical. Scars are unreasonable. 

But the result? That is a truly compelling vindication.
Our only guilt lies in the heavy heart which creates a perception of distortion. 

Afternoon in Monterey

What can I say about the opportunities I have been blessed with? What about the experiences I have had to discover my world far beyond the horizons that box me into my reality day after day?
My success', my failures?
For a long time I believed that I just deserved what I got, good or bad. Even had a few discussions with friends about the idea behind deserving the things that come in our life. Always playing on the side that we truly do deserve what we get. Here's the problem, we don't.

I have always been a strong advocate for choices. And those which we make everyday being the key to who we transform into. I learned about something else this week, when correlated the two ideas build an argument against deserving something versus simple energy in the universe. What you put out is what you get back.

Bear with me. I may need you to be a little more open minded than usual, what I am talking about, what I learned? It was all about faith. Faith in a higher power. They say that you never understand what it means to have faith until you feel it because it is such an extremely abstract idea. Faith doesn't have to be directly associated with religion. But whatever you believe in make sure you have faith that it is going to bring you happiness when you reach the end of your road.

I went to California this past week for vacation(that opportunity beyond my own horizons I was talking about earlier?). During the church service I attended the preacher told me a story. The story that changed a perception so firmly ingrained in me, and in many people my age.

He spoke of his nephew who was just 4 years old when he was diagnosed with cancer. Amongst several trials going through remissions and multiple reappearances the child died at this young age. *at which point the preacher broke into tears, an experience of grief so real that those listening so intently felt the pain* He moves on to explain the questions which arose out of this tragedy. "Why Mateo?" "Why do bad things happen to good people?" A panic so real that it brought tears to my eyes. The aftermath, the child parents split up, sadness and misunderstandings ruled their every move. Years of suffering as a result of this tragedy drove separations and ostracizing. One day, years after the child's passing, the mother met an old friend at a party. One year later the preacher expressed the joy he had to officiate a marriage ceremony for the two on a beautiful afternoon on a cliff overlooking Monterey and the bay.

The preacher went on to explain that in times of extreme tragedy it is difficult to see the joy, and in some cases that joy is resulted in a life other than our own. You see we will all always deal with pain and suffering, misunderstanding, and grief... But the results, whether experienced by you or someone  down the road, when we offer up our suffering is that we allow joy to come from it. It doesn't mean we stop suffering, in some cases we suffer more. That's when faith comes in. You believe that the truths which create your persona are powerful beyond your capabilities. An understanding that each time you feel pain, through faith, a higher power pulls through to benefit others. Whether it be a soul in need of grace, or someone who has worked hard and it's their time for success.

Mateo died, and if you believe in eternal life, that was his happy ending. Even if you believe another truth about life and who we are at the end, you cannot argue the joy that came from this suffering. Two souls connected and became one. With one tragedy, came one celebration, *atleast* one happy ending.

Under this logic alone and with the understanding that faith is primary, we see that nothing is ever deserved. When the good opportunities come knocking, or when something great happens for you, it means someone somewhere has offered up their suffering for a stranger, and when you are suffering it just means that it's your turn to offer it up. The cycle continues to turn and those with great faith allow the engine to keep running on our trusted understandings of life and love, hope, and our everyday pursuit of happiness. We simply choose to take part. This is the only real control we have over a joyful result from suffering.

So why now? Why did I question this so intensely when I heard the story? Why did I analyze it? I visited Monterey during the latter part of my trip, I looked out onto the bay, I saw land untouched, water cleansing the cliffs, I felt that energy. Amidst a difficult time in my life I felt that joy of Monterey. I yearned for that to translate into my life, but I also knew it wasn't my time for Monterey.

It would always be there, waiting, right now it was my time to suffer, but not with misunderstanding. It was my time to offer up the pain. I stopped asking "Why me?", because those souls that needed saving needed the grace more than me at the time.

I know I'll continue to suffer, but I would rather suffer in faith than feel joy without.

Joy without faith is empty. Faith is in the energy of the sea, its in the clean lines of the sky as it creates the horizon, it's in the cliffs imperfect with scars, its in waves recovering the land.

Our plan is not a plan at all, it is in the scars created, and the anticipation that
our afternoon in Monterey is coming.

I don't know about you, but I can't wait.