Whew doggies!!! This week was for the birds!  You know the kind– a no good, everything goes wrong, woe is me, shitty, pour salt in the wounds, put me in a padded room kind of week?  The kind that you don’t say, “TGIF everyone– Have a terrific weekend!” but rather, “Bye Felicia… and bring me the tequila on your way out!”

Yeah, I had one of those weeks.

The amusing part is that I spent 8 hours (8 HOURS!) on Wednesday in mindfulness training.  Truth be told, it was fabulous.  I was semi-convinced going into it (despite my best open-minded thinking) that I would be sitting in the lotus position with incense being wafted about me… but instead, I garnered fact-based health benefits, a side dose of humor, a bucket full of authenticity, and some moments of quiet.

As a single mom of 3 daughters… quiet wasn’t a word I was familiar with before Wednesday. Quiet is awkward!!! If mindfulness takes practice, I’m going to have work diligently to get use to quiet!

But honestly, mindfulness isn’t the new age, Enya playing in the background, find your inner peace hubba-bubba I half expected it to be. In short, it’s paying attention on purpose.  It’s simply being awake to and aware of your life, your surroundings, your feelings… being alive to YOURSELF and the world around you!

You don’t have to purge your mind of thoughts (as if that would ever be possible), but rather to be aware of what your thoughts are at the moment… without judgment. I love (love, love, love) the idea that my thoughts are NOT who I am…. that my thoughts and feelings don’t define me.

I am not WHAT I’m feeling; this is just HOW I’m feeling.

This is good!  Very, very good!  So good I may write it in lipstick on my bathroom mirror to be reminded daily.

So on this “I’m going to be more mindful” that it’s an “I need a valium” kind of week, my best friend convinces me I should try Hot Yoga with her for the first time.  I thought, “Well hell, why not… what’s the worst that could happen?  And, maybe I’ll finally get to hear some Enya.”

Oh Holy Hell!  I trained for and completed a half-marathon and Hot Yoga was WAY HARDER! I was a sweaty, leg-twitching, woozy-headed, giggling (but didn’t fart) nincompoop.  All I’ve got to say is “Namaste, bitches!”

What I began to realize as I was concentrating intently (so as to not pass out) at Hot Yoga is that life is ALL about the yin yang.  This realization being mildly ironic considering  I’ve been conjuring a blog post about duality in my head all week.  I had no idea it would take this form. Nevertheless…

I wouldn’t know the good without the bad… the happy without the sad… the energy without the exhaustion…

I wouldn’t know mindfulness without the inattention.

But/And, perhaps like others, I prefer the good, the happy, the energy, etc. and so on… so I think I’ll work on paying attention to my life, my actions, my words, my thoughts.  I will be open to, present for, and aware of all that this amazing and wondrous life has to offer.

I will appreciate…

• the car I drive (that I locked my keys in)…
• the capabilities of connection through conference calling (after hanging up accidentally on the call which I was late to)…
• my daughter’s health, the genuine concern of her daycare staff, and the wisdom of doctors (after she passed out cold and we spent a half-day in the ER complete with EKG, blood work, etc.)…
• my best friend’s adventurous spirit (even though we both almost died at Hot Yoga)…
• and, for the blissful and unusual quiet (so that I can relish and REALLY appreciate the joyful laughter and exuberance of my beautiful trifecta of Gresham Girls).

In short, it really is as simple as what the most optimistic person I’ve ever met once explained to me…

“What you see depends on what you are looking for!”

So I’ve decided I’m going to look for goodness, love, light, and laughter… kindness, compassion, humanity, and concern… equity and sincerity… authenticity and awesomeness.

They are all there. Seeing such just depends on you… and what you’re looking for!

I’m new to the world of blogging, but my amazing colleague, Holly Paulette, is helping me out.  She and her friend, Taylor Schumann, host this fun link-up called Five Finds Friday.  They share things they love from around the Internet and I’ve been invited to join the experiment.  Here goes.  I hope you enjoy!

Funny

I have an odd sense of humor.  I do.  I admit it.  But the Star Wars craze is rampant.  In fact, my kids have given everyone in the family a Star Wars name.  I’m “ChewMama”—funny, right?  And, I love bacon (who doesn’t?).  So, yeah, this had me laughing out loud!

Fashionable

I love this!  I saw it before the holidays and think it is a perfect gift for anyone at anytime (myself included-hint, hint).  It takes someone’s handwriting and makes jewelry.  It’s personalized, super special, and WAY less permanent (and less expensive) than a tattoo (which I’ve been known to do!) See some more options here!

Flavorful

As the entire east coast and I welcome Winter Storm Jonas (or as I like to say… The Snowpocalypse of 2016), it seems only appropriate that I share the simplest of recipes for snow cream.  It’s so good and so easy.  I’ve a pot sitting out collecting the fresh falling snow as I type.  Note—I strongly encourage you to put a bowl out to collect the snow so as to avoid anything yellow or brown.

Faithful

I am a huge fan of Elephant Journal and this article resonated this week.

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2016/01/its-time-to-wake-up-your-spirit-is-calling/

For me, spirituality and faith surround us if we are open to them… and there is no better place than nature and this gorgeous Earth we inhabit to embrace them. In fact, I saw this picture posted by a friend this morning on Facebook (no filters or enhancements) and thought to myself, “yep, God is an artist for sure and we get to enjoy his canvas constantly if we just open our eyes and pay attention.”  Your spirit is calling… can YOU hear it?

Feels

As a mom to three beautiful little girls, this viral photo and affiliated story brought tears to my eyes.  First and foremost, this woman’s courage is absolutely incredible.  Posting any pic of myself comes with self-critique and judgment… but 24 hours post-birth?  Oh hell no.  Erica Andrew’s my hero!  She also piqued my curiosity.  In this body-shaming world, I cannot even begin to fathom what would make any woman feel so brave.  So I read her beautiful story and got weepy.  My pregnancy and birthing days are over.  It is a glorious, beautiful, and all-too-brief time—but that is hindsight talking for me!  I wish I’d captured more photos of my baby belly and post-birth self each and every time.  I wish I had appreciated the remarkable changes (physical, emotional, etc.) I was going through at the time.  The body is a machine capable of feats unknown (childbearing included).  And the creation of life is nothing short of miraculous (that one wasn’t lost on me!).  But, I look at my babies (now 9, 6, and 3 years old) and I realize that time goes much too quickly and the infant/baby phase is so, so short.  Kudos to Erica for not only capturing that moment… but for sharing it with the world!  May we all embrace our bodies—for whatever they look like or have gone through—and realize we’re beautiful just as we are at that very moment!

( I originally wrote this at a work retreat focused on storytelling and Virginia Tech’s Aspirations for Student Learning. Now that I’m blogging, it seemed only appropriate to share it on MLK Jr. Day.)

Prepare for a Life of Courageous Leadership

Virginia Tech students will be courageous leaders who are willing to challenge the status quo in pursuit of a more humane and just world. They will have the fortitude to speak up when they witness an injustice and reach out to those who are vulnerable, marginalized, or in need. Courageous leadership is possible whether or not the individual is in a position of responsibility. Virginia Tech students will inspire others with their actions, changing the world one decision at a time.

I remember sitting in the room.  Casual, comfortable, among friends.  It was to be a silly game of questions—literally from The Book of Questions. The book was small, maybe 4″ x 4″ in size.  It sits on a table in my office today.

The question presented was, “Would you step on (and kill) a cockroach for $1 million?”

It was a room of females, giddy and tipsy… comfortable in our own skin, at least in this setting.

“Of course.”

“Hell yeah.”

“Hate those crunchy little suckers!  You bet your ass I would!”

These were the replies.  Question asked, answers given. Then, a supplemental question in association. “For the same amount of money, would you rip the wings off of a beautiful butterfly?”

There was silence.  Then one quick reply… “For $1 million, I’d do just about anything.”

Then another… “Why do I have to rip off the wings to kill it?”

Others answered, debated, considered. I sat perplexed.  Why did look, perception, and stereotype influence the response for me? Aren’t we all worthy?  Aren’t we all here for a reason?  Don’t we all have value?  Isn’t every life important.. and meaningful… and precious?

Granted, we were talking about cockroaches and butterflies.  And a million dollars. Perhaps that was it… the million dollars. Would I do it?  At all?  For less money?  For more? What is the tipping point?  Is there a tipping point? What might influence or change my mind?

I sat with the question long after the wine glasses were empty, my friends had gone home, and daylight turned to dark.  For me, it was such a BIG question.  What would I do?  Why do two things, so different and yet similar, warrant such conflicting response.  And how did money or financial gain play a part?  It was a metaphor for my current situation.  A person who believes in the inherent value and worth of all creatures, but operating in an environment of “money talks.”

I’d been conditioned to not “ruffle feathers” or “stir the pot”—to “fly under the radar” and to agree with the masses, or at least remain silent if in opposition.  I largely existed to be seen, not heard.  And if I could hide so as to not be seen either, I was to do that too.

So when I think about how to prepare for a life of courageous leadership, I think about IMPACT.  About the ripple effect.  About paying it forward while taking a step back to check myself.  To walk the talk, not just talk the talk.  To do what is right, even when no one is watching and there is no benefit to me… no praise for action… and to do so even if there is an outcome that causes great personal strife and toil.  To fall on the sword for others because they can’t… or shouldn’t have to… carry the burden alone.

Prepare for a Life of Courageous Leadership

The preparation is great… sometimes great in time, sometimes great in effort, sometimes great in input.  It can be subtle or obvious.  It can be intentional or accidental.

A lifetime of such is just that… LIVING!  If I can’t do right by others, how will they do right by me?  If I’m not awake and responsive to the injustices of the world, what example am I setting for others, especially my own children?

Courage is not simple, not easy, not happenstance… it’s not contrived or expecting… it can be scary, terrifying, and with great RISK… whether known, perceived, understood or real… and doing it anyway!

Leadership is to set the example… to carry others when necessary, to offer a hand when needed, or to walk beside in support… to expect no applause for action and to do so willingly… because it is simply who you are at the core and because living isn’t a solitary act.

That’s courageous leadership to me.  I do dream of a world that is more humane and just.   Better yet, I don’t just dream it, I want it. I want it for the cockroaches and the butterflies.  I want it for the outwardly beautiful and the inwardly unique.  I want it for me and I want it for you.

And as for the $1 million?

Well, let me tell you what money—in any amount—cannot buy.  It cannot buy love, honesty, courage, truth, respect, dignity, integrity, or peace of mind.

No amount of money can.

So, I’d rather have the things money CANNOT buy… alongside the cockroaches and the butterflies!

I love pulp in my orange juice. Serious pulp. Fresh squeezed is awesome, but Home Style, Grove Stand, High Pulp, or Extra Pulp all tickle my fancy too.

It’s completely ludicrous, but buying orange juice with pulp was one of the most liberating things I did when I first left my marriage. It was such a simple act, but one that has stuck with me… like pulp to the side of the glass when the juice is gone.

I was asked recently, “What is the biggest myth you believed about marriage?” WHEW. I’m fairly certain my response to that question is a book, not a blog post… but it did make me think about pulp.

I gave up pulp when I entered the relationship that eventually became my marriage. It seemed simple enough. I liked it. He didn’t. I was the grocery shopper, so I just didn’t buy orange juice with pulp. (I have often tried to remember how I learned he didn’t like pulp, but I can’t recall.)

I bought what I knew he liked. It seemed sweet, caring, a romantic gesture even. (Yes, I was raised on way too many fairy tales as a child.) But truth be told, it honestly felt like what I was supposed to do. It seemed like I was of giving spirit… that I was doing something nice for him. That I was compromising.  And marriage is about compromise, right?

There was never a conversation, at least not one I recall. It didn’t feel like a sacrifice. And it never occurred to me to buy two smaller containers of OJ– one with and one without pulp– so we could both have the juice we love.

I just gave up something I loved for someone I loved.

This pattern repeated with jelly, soap, and ultimately so many more decisions I made (and not just specific to the grocery list)… but this is hindsight talking more than awareness at the time.

It seemed simple… honorable… insignificant. And, truth be told, I don’t regret it. I’ve learned a lot. I’ve grown and I’m smarter. And I’ve come to recognize (and correct) this pattern in other relationships I have with family and friends.

I realize now that giving up something you love– for any reason, but especially for another person– is very dangerous territory. Making everyone else happy can sometimes make you miserable. What you love makes you who you are.

Granted, giving up one or two things won’t change you—and admittedly, we all have things we love that are vices we probably should give up—but consistently ignoring, releasing, or allowing yourself to forget what you love will eventually erode your spirit, your essence. You begin to lose who you are… and probably what the other person was attracted to originally.

Pulp-less orange juice is not to blame for my marriage ending.  I am… at least in part.  And I own that truth.

I forgot who I was, what I loved, and what I wanted. I compromised myself under the guise of loving another. I do believe that love is about wanting what is best for another person. And, partnership should be about helping each other achieve wants and dreams… having a co-pilot for life. But you can’t do it FOR someone else… you can’t create “their best” for them nor make THEIR dreams come true… and certainly not to the detriment of yourself or your own. You can help, you can support, you can encourage.

You can be YOU. You should be you.

The old airplane oxygen mask analogy is true. You have to take care of yourself first. Sure, there will absolutely need to be compromise, negotiation, and sacrifice. They are necessary and inevitable (and reciprocal) in healthy relationships. But you also have to be awake to your own life. You have to be open to possibility, to feel, to listen to yourself, and to recognize your own wants, needs, dreams, desires, and loves.

In fact, you not only have to be aware of and awake to them, you have to engage… indulge them. For what you love, what brings you true JOY… well, these are the things that buff your halo and make you shine so brightly.

Your inner light can be an ember or a firework. Both are fine and you get to choose. But don’t ever allow yourself (or anyone else) to snuff that light out.

As for me, I think I’ll go drink some pulpy orange juice.

(**cue theme song music**)

A long time ago…

In a galaxy far, far away…

HOLD UP!  WAIT!  TIMEOUT!  WRONG STORY (and not my own)!

My apologies.  Sometimes my nerdiness and love of pop culture get the best of me.  Let’s try a different approach.

I have stories in my head.  Lots of them actually.  I don’t know if it is carryover make- believe from my childhood or some avoidance measure I’ve yet to define in my adulthood, BUT these stories tend to represent an emotional state manifesting in my own life.

I’ve never attempted to convert them from loose ideas in my head to characterized, solid plots.  What I do know is that, given their often direct connection to where I am emotionally, simply writing the thoughts down can help release the anxiety associated.

Today’s story is about a tunnel.

It is dark, so dark.  Black actually.  And damp, cold… the kind of chill that gets deep in your bones and you just can’t quite shake.  I’m tired, so tired.  I’m walking carefully, cautious with each step, so as to not trip in the darkness.  I’m slow, full of caution, angst and fear… so slow that it often feels like I’m not even moving.

It is in this moment that I realize I’m in a tunnel… and not near the mouth at either end, but in the middle.  I’m far enough in that there is no light from behind and yet not far enough thru to see light on the opposite side.  Do you know what that is like?  I finally comprehend the full meaning behind, “light at the end of the tunnel.”  I long for it.  Hell, I’d run toward it.  I just want to come out on the other side.  In fact, I’d settle to simply see it in the distance.  I think I’d find comfort and strength from a pin prick of brightness alone at this point.

I was once told that faith is “believing in what you cannot see.”  I’m damn certain this wasn’t the example they meant, albeit applicable.  But faith is HARD.  To continue walking, no matter the pace, and trust that you aren’t going to trip and fall, bust open your head, and lie dying in the darkness a slow, lonely death… withering away with only the cold blackness around you and your thoughts.  (Okay, so that was a bit melodramatic, but the sentiment is real.)

I was sharing this tunnel analogy with a friend, someone who is familiar with darkness in her own way.  Oddly enough, I was trying to check in on her, to inquire and see how she was doing.  When unknowingly, she gives me the hope… the light (literally and figuratively)… that I was craving. She offered to me what that I needed to see… or at least to believe in.

Faith is funny that way.  I often forget how God (…or the universe, or coincidence, or whomever/whatever you might believe in) can slip in little reminders.  They are not always delivered as we ask or hope, but if you are open to them… they come all the same.

This friend said the most incredible thing to me… so simple, and yet so powerful.  She said, “Don’t forget that you aren’t alone, that you have friends with flashlights.”

Friends with FLASHLIGHTS!

And matches, and light sabers, and fiber-optic wands, and… GLOW STICKS!

So brilliant!!!!  This friend and the concept.

I have a coffee cup on my desk at work that says, “thoughts become things… choose good ones.”  That simple statement about “friends with flashlights” was all I needed to change my thinking.

Now, in complete and utter honesty—it didn’t hit me immediately.  She said it, I reflected on it, I’m writing about it now… it needed to marinate a bit.  If only the animation of the light bulb going off above your head were accurate.  Eureka!… yeah, not so much.  Unfortunately, another lesson I’ve learned in this so-called-life is that you often have to sit in the mess, to be comfortable in the discomfort.  You have to reflect on and be open to the possibilities… then some magic can happen.

You see I think we (I) try so hard to believe we (I) can do this… LIFE… alone.  We can’t.  I can’t.  And, quite frankly, it wasn’t intended that way.  But we, as humans, have a need to prove things… to prove to ourselves, to others… that we can do it alone.  It’s so silly.

I may be in a tunnel, but I’m not in the tunnel alone.  I’m surrounded by love and compassionate individuals.  But they are also loyal and respectful of my journey.  They want to give me space, encouragement, dignity and respect.  So they travel beside me… even in the darkness.  It is my job to request when they flip the switch that turns on their flashlights.

If they can be so steadfast in the darkness, surely I can be strong enough to ask for their light.

I love random questions!  I have multiple conversation cubes like Table Topics around my house, and I have nothing short of a small library of books full of questions.  I enjoy the way they can start conversation, cause laughter, or make you think.  And I love to learn about other people—new acquaintances or people I’ve known my entire life.  I find that these compilations of questions can easily inspire dialogue.  And, well, I’m never short on an opinion and I love to talk! SCORE!

So in conversation recently with one of my best friends, I was asked to describe them in ONE word.  ONE word… ONE word to sum up an entire individual? I’m usually quick with a reply, but this was going to require some thought.  I love words too… so finding just the right one was going to be important to me.  Suffice it to say that I’ve spent a good amount of time typing words into Google to assess the definition, consider synonyms, and try to arrive at the perfect word to capture the essence of a pretty amazing individual.

In this process, I realized that I have a small number—a handful really—of truly incredible, loyal, and encouraging friends. Now, I know a lot of people.  I’m Facebook friends with hundreds.  But acquaintances, friends, and true friends are different.  And best friends, at least for me, are few and far between…. and I’m okay with that.

I’m pretty good with names and faces.  I try to make folks I interact with feel special.  But, truth be told, I’m reserved when it comes to letting people in.  Don’t get me wrong—I appear to be an open book.  I’m vocal, opinionated, and can rock a fake extrovert persona with the best of them. (Yes, I’m truly an introvert. Shocking, I know!)

I certainly could stop and think before I speak more often as it is a daily occurrence that I think, “Crap.  I just said that out loud.”  Maybe my mental regulator to control the thoughts I think from coming out my mouth is broken.  Oh well.

I wouldn’t say I’m overly private about my life, but I am protective and reserved about the most vulnerable parts of me… at least with those outside that tight group of people I consider BFFs.

So as I was considering the entire world of Merriam-Webster to describe this one BFF, it occurred to me that those I hold closest in my life have many of the same qualities… that I would utilize, by and large, the same words to describe each of them.  Of course there are unique qualities and idiosyncrasies to them individually, but I am clearly attracted to some specific qualities.  But… I needed to arrive at ONE word that could capture all of the fabulous that this person represents to me.

I’ve slept on it.  I don’t know that this is the PERFECT choice (what’s perfect anyway?), but I am satisfied with it.  Sometimes you just have to make a decision and commit.  This isn’t a life-altering decision after all.  I’m pretty sure that the Earth will still rotate and the tides will still rise.  But it is important for me to let this person know how special they are, how much I love them, and how I value their place in my life… which makes selecting just ONE word seem pretty damn important.

So the word I’ve chosen…

ENDEARING

…inspiring love or affection; to make dear, esteemed, or beloved

…lovable, adorable, cute, sweet, dear, delightful, lovely, charming, appealing, attractive, engaging, winning, captivating, enchanting, beguiling, winsome, embraceable, kissable, beloved, cherished, favored, favorite, loved, treasured, attractive, beautiful, desirable, lovely, alluring, appealing, captivating, charming, enchanting, engaging, entrancing, fascinating, fetching, admirable, likeable, reputable, respectable, affable, agreeable, cheerful, cordial, friendly, genial, good-natured, good-tempered, gracious, kind, nice, pleasant, delightful, pleasing, well-disposed

I can’t imagine a BFF that isn’t these things.  And mine (all of them actually) meet this description.

I can only hope that I am as endearing to them as they are to me!

January 6, 2016

I often marvel at how the stars often align… my little signs from the universe.  So today is my first blog post… on Wednesday, January 6, 2016.

Epiphany! (literally and figuratively)

Now, being it is my first blog post and I’d like folks to continue reading, I’ll leave any religious overtone out and simply go with the secular definition of the word (though my faith says this is perhaps less than a coincidence).

Epiphany… “an experience of sudden or striking insight” according to Wikipedia… or, as I like to say, an “ah-ha” moment, this one perhaps more serendipitous in nature.  I’ve been talking about this blog for at least 6 months, but today… I act!  Anyone who knows me knows it isn’t because I finally have something to say… I always have something to say.  But I also have a “40 by 40” bucket list—40 things I want to do, learn, or accomplish before I turn 40 years old.  This blog is on the list and it’s a new year, so I guess I was feeling a little bit all carpe diem ya’ll.

Less I digress…

I just returned from ringing in the New Year in Las Vegas.  At 38 years old, it was my first real “adult” New Year’s Eve… fancy dress, fun earrings, high heels, dancing, drinking, and staying up past midnight without TV, the Times Square ball drop, nor a single mention of Dick Clark or Ryan Seacrest.  Very exciting if I do say so myself!  And, it was Vegas… “adult Disney World” as I call it and the capital of people watching (where you can be certain someone looks worse than you).

So when people ask how my New Year’s was, I have an exceptional, tweet-worthy reply…

“I got a tattoo, broke a heel, lost an earring, got sweaty dancing, and woke up hangover free.”

Impressive, right?  No, that isn’t a typo.  It does say “hangover free.”  It was a goal.  Let me repeat again that I’m 38… oh and the mother of 3 daughters all younger than 10 years old.  Plus, I’m not really a “puke and rally” kind of gal.  Indulge my sense of self-pride please.

Now, most people read that, giggle, and move on… but someone out there just did it.  You know, the… “Oh, how fun! WAIT!  WHAT?  You got a TATTOO?  In Vegas?  On New Year’s?  Of What?  Are you CRAZY???”

Yep, I sure did.  My third tattoo overall actually, but nonetheless.  It says, “ENOUGH” in the most beautiful Edsonian Script font.   It seemed pretty self-explanatory to me… but then again, I’ve been in talk therapy almost weekly for the past 14 months, so the whole self-worth, self-care, self-actualization practice has become a bit second-nature to me.  So I did what any self-respecting individual would do.  I Googled that shit to be sure I didn’t permanently ink something opposite my intentions.  Shew, all good!

Synonyms:  sufficient, adequate, competent

But the absolute best part of Googling… words that rhyme with ENOUGH!  Yes, this is featured alongside the definition. My favorites and the impetus for this inaugural blog post include fluff, hand cuff, ear muff, hang tough, and small stuff.

And, LIKE THAT, GlitterBombMom is born!  So in rhyme with my new ink, my hopes for this blog include the following…

Fluff: There will be some trivial, sparkle, loftiness, and humor I hope.  I’ll talk about the mundane, the fantasy, and the not-so-real problems of life.  You know, like why I can’t find my favorite shade of lip gloss, the difference between the colors lime and chartreuse, and maybe the adventures of my hair.

Hand Cuff: Get your mind out of the gutter!  While I’m a fan of Fifty Shades of Grey, the hand cuffs reference for this blog will be more dialogue about the thoughts, ideas, and perceptions we hold that restrain us… that prevent us from being our truest and most authentic selves.  (And maybe some thoughts about why Matt Bomer should have been cast as Christian Grey.)

Ear Muff: Ahh, as a single-mother of three little girls… sometimes silence (or at least covering my ears to muffle the deafening and shrill screams, dramatic whining, or over-exuberant enthusiasm) is nothing more than a necessity of life.  I want a space for honesty about the hardships and happiness of raising children (or perhaps even being a child to aging parents as a member of the sandwich generation).

Hang Tough: I’ve always been a fan of the saying, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”— and I’m not dead yet, but I’ve often wondered if I’ll make it through.  I’ll do my best to be an advocate of perseverance, resilience, and optimism.  To support my fellow human (females in particular—because I think we are often too hard on each other), offer words that uplift, and provide a perspective and voice that maybe, just possibly, will resonate so that we find we are not alone on this journey called life.

Small Stuff: Ahh, yes, don’t sweat the small stuff… and it’s all small stuff, right?  Well, hell no, not when it is your stuff!  My problems seem big because there are mine!  Perhaps you feel the same way.  But I also know that the vulnerability it takes to put oneself out there requires great humility and can be quite humbling.  I’m trusting that you’ll help me keep my feet on the ground while I keep reaching for the stars!

So, there you have it.  I’ve no real clue how to use WordPress.  I need a legit header image and some graphics (and a lot more color).  I probably should develop a plan that ensures this won’t be the only post I ever make.

But, I did it.  I started.

And, sometimes starting is the hardest part.