Tag Archives: communication

Co-regulation

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Co-regulation

Growth is a painful process, this is definitely not a new concept. However, in the course of learning about oneself and how your own behaviors affect those around you, it gives you an opportunity to see the tangible and observable ways that all interactions are cyclical. Energy is an observable phenomenon that can power the light in the darkness, but it can also blow circuits; it just depends on the wattage and capacity.

Ideally in relationships, at least for me, the dyad is a constant give and take. If one person is needing more support, energy, love, whatever, the other person gives it to them with the faith that when the roles reverse, the current receiver will be the giver. When this does not happen repeatedly, resentment builds into all sorts of negative things. Eventually the strain causes a blow out, one you can’t always see, but you can definitely feel. It is at this point that you have to make a decision: increase the size of your breaker or reduce the load on your circuit.

Once you know that things are strained and communicate what the needs are, one would hope that the other half of the circuit would respond in kind to make the adjustments needed so that the cycle continues in a positive way. But often, the other person is simply not capable of giving the energy needed to complete the current cycle. It is what it is.

Love is energy. It is neither positive or negative. It IS an alternating current. When it becomes a direct current, the chance to be shocked increases. Being shocked isn’t always bad, hell, that’s how a defibrillator works on your heart, right?

My power strip is overloaded right now. My heart swells with love and explodes with confusion. It is a very difficult place to be in, this place of understanding and yet, this place of confusion. Process is fucking uncomfortable. Regrets are useless but still valuable tools. “Fear of missing out” is a truly a fear of regret… But if fear is what keeps you from accepting and returning the love that you are actually being given, you have created your own short.

Sometimes you just have to wait for someone to complete your circuit… but first you have to ground yourself.

April Showers

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April Showers

Rain can bring things back to life…

Rain can also drown them.

All power is an illusion…

Yet energy exchanged freely is tangible.

“Love” can be an adverb, a noun, a verb;

it’s really just like “Fuck.”

Hope can be a welcome gift…

She can and will, also fool you.

One commits to seeing it through,

the other remains righteously based in fear.

A secret can encourage alliances,

concurrently it feeds into concern.

Sunshine is what allows all life,

but the sun can cause also cancer.

Chemo is a curative,

while simultaneously it poisons the body.

Intimacy is not to be forsaken,

dismissed for the idea of “What if..”

Regret can turn to reflection…

Reflection can change your reality.

Emotion influences logic,

logic without emotion is cold.

Opening Pandora’s box gave knowledge and insight,

wisdom not always appreciated.

Patience is a virtue,

but one that can quickly grow sour. 

Bitter on the tongue of the confused,

waiting to be swallowed hard by the word…

YES.

Unknown Territory

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Unknown Territory

I am unsure how people repair relationships. I feel like given my path and occupation, I am someone who should know. I can tell people how to do it, via a book and/or my “school learnin” but when it comes to my own, I am not sure. I have always found it relatively easy to remain friends or become friends again with exes; mainly, I believe, because we start out as friends. But I have recently made some decisions that while they have a lot of mitigating circumstances around them, I am feeling regret over most of them. I have written a lot about regret and I work to really not do anything that I will… But, being a human, I fuck up. A lot.

I have been able to reestablish the friendship facet of the relationship in this situation, but after realizing the mistake of ending it, understanding the reasons that contributed to the ending of it (I take responsibility for 60+/-% of that ending…), as well as knowing how I feel post-break up and processing, I don’t know how to move forward. I know what I want. I know what I had. I know that it was not how it should have been but it was more than repairable. But of course, me being me, I self-sabotaged. Cause nothing says “Jani” like “Ehhhh this hurts…. RUN AWAY! CUT TIES WITH WHAT YOU CAN CONTROL! DISTRACT! DISTRACT! DESTROY!”

I also find that I make major decisions (that are usually bad in the winter) between December-January. I am not entirely sure this isn’t related to stress at this time of year and/or seasonal depression…perhaps both… but now I sit in a place of limbo and suspended grief. Wanting to fix things but not entirely knowing if I even have the right, to try, to inflict myself upon others…But I also know that couples have gone through much worse and wound up stronger, healthier.

I reflect now on the relationship and see what was missing and how both parties handled it badly, due to both parties not communicating their needs to the other in a timely fashion. It was after the fact that the communication came. And we are in a good place.

But everything else, the future plans, the qualities that we loved about each other, the idiosyncrasies that drove the other crazy but still allowed us to love each other unconditionally, everything else is there, intact. Neither of us are the same, but the core of myself, the core of them, the core of US…the foundation, is there. It’s got a few cracks, but nothing that would be not repairable. We have both forgiven each other. But of course, things are different.

So the question I posit to you, the reader, is when it comes to breakups, if love and abuse are never an issue, can negative things cast positive light on things that need tending? Or is it always an ending? Can you begin again? Not where you left off, because THAT preempted the demise of the relationship, but can a new better relationship be born from the fire and sorrow that was during and post-breakup? Is love enough? Love the verb, not the noun?

To Whom it May Concern:

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To Whom it May Concern:

I am not a mind reader.

I am a very empathetic, intuitive, über feeling, and generally good person. I do my best to understand others and to not cause negative things to happen within them due to my actions or words. This, however, is not always enough it seems. But I am.

I cannot be held to such a standard of knowing all intentions. If you are wanting to talk, tell me.  If you are not wanting to talk, tell me. If I am wanting/needing to talk and you don’t want to, I might need to understand why. It is a simple thing. If you simply want the presence of another human, tell me. If I assume you must want to talk and you are not talking, so I talk…Do not assume that I am just telling you about my day or problem or whatever because I need to fill the air with the melodic sound of my voice, give me the benefit of doubt that perhaps I am making an assumption about your intentions and trying to give an opening for you to bring something up. I might base this on nothing or I might base this on what I think is happening or what I feel is happening. I promise I am not “trying to social work you.” I try very diligently to not social work the people I love, but it is kind of difficult to not think in the ways I do now. It is a Pandora’s box situation. I try and I fail. I can ask “Do you want advice or do you want me to commiserate?” but that in itself seems to make people angry. I am more than willing to sit in silence with you, but I need to know that is what you want. I cannot simply know it.

I am not a mind reader.

I am an anxious, hyper-vigilant, and sometimes neurotic person. I see things and feel things, KNOW things that may or may not exist in all realities. I have experiences, like us all, that make me jump to conclusions. Granted, sometimes my conclusions go straight to catastrophe planning and risk mitigation. This is an issue, I know. BUT it is also a survival technique. A way that I have learned to survive, emotionally and physically. Maladaptive at times, yes. Controlling at times, yes. But my burden to bear.

When I am given 1000 pieces of a 1500 piece puzzle, I put what I can together and until I know the rest, I use my best judgment to consciously and unconsciously matrix what I see, feel, or hear. I will arrange those 1000 pieces into something that I recognize and understand, until I have the rest of the pieces. I cannot yet handle the missing pieces. My shit, not yours. But what is your piece, your “shit”, is the way that you react to how I proceed. I am only accountable for my own actions, my own words, my intent. I cannot be held accountable for your feelings, your reactions, or how you are impacted. If you assume I am coming at you with ill intent, then you obviously do not know me. I try to anticipate the outcome of all interactions, but alas…

I am not a mind reader.

But I am doing my best. And I hope, I assume, I presume, I pray…You are too.

 

Mercury Retrograde BE DAMNED I feel amazing.

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Mercury Retrograde BE DAMNED I feel amazing.

I have had quite the empowering and cathartic last couple of weeks chock full of epiphanies and cosmic 2x4s.

One, I shall not write into narrative for you voyeuristic vampires whom I love. It involves self growth and reflecting on past relationships.

But when it dawned on me, it went something like this:

Then, I read this on my FaceCrack wall:

A Wild Woman doesn’t want to be your Girly friend

Can you love me in the deep? In the dark? In the thick of it?

Can you love me when I drink from the wrong bottle and slip through the crack in the floorboard?

Can you love me when I’m bigger than you, when my presence blazes like the sun does, when it hurts to look directly at me?

Can you love me then too?

Can you love me under the starry sky, shaved and smooth, my skin like liquid moonlight?

Can you love me when I am howling and furry, standing on my haunches, my lower lip stained with the blood of my last kill?

When I call down the lightning, when the sidewalks are singed by the soles of my feet, can you still love me then?

What happens when I freeze the land, and cause the dirt to harden over all the pomegranate seeds we’ve planted?

Will you trust that Spring will return?

Will you still believe me when I tell you I will become a raging river, and spill myself upon your dreams and call them to the surface of your life?

Can you trust me, even though you cannot tame me?

Can you love me, even though I am all that you fear and admire?

Will you fear my shifting shape?

Does it frighten you, when my eyes flash like your camera does?

Do you fear they will capture your soul?

Are you afraid to step into me?

The meat-eating plants and flowers armed with poisonous darts are not in my jungle to stop you from coming. Not you.

So do not worry. They belong to me, and I have invited you here.

Stay to the path revealed in the moonlight and arrive safely to the hut of Baba Yaga: the wild old wise one… she will not lead you astray if you are pure of heart.

You cannot be with the wild one if you fear the rumbling of the ground, the roar of a cascading river, the startling clap of thunder in the sky.

If you want to be safe, go back to your tiny room — the night sky is not for you.

If you want to be torn apart, come in. Be broken open and devoured. Be set ablaze in my fire.

I will not leave you as you have come: well dressed, in finely-threaded sweaters that keep out the cold.

I will leave you naked and biting. Leave you clawing at the sheets. Leave you surrounded by owls and hawks and flowers that only bloom when no one is watching.

So, come to me, and be healed in the unbearable lightness and darkness of all that you are.

There is nothing in you that can scare me. Nothing in you I will not use to make you great.

A wild woman is not a girlfriend. She is a relationship with nature. She is the source of all your primal desires, and she is the wild whipping wind that uproots the poisonous corn stalks on your neatly tilled farm.

She will plant pear trees in the wake of your disaster.

She will see to it that you shall rise again.

She is the lover who restores you to your own wild nature.

(c) Alison Nappi 2015

The I saw this and wanted to go run. Dafuq, right?

This is all on top of a windfall at work, in my bank account, with my kids, with my love, with my friends, EVERYTHING. On top of the world and it is strange.

Winter Solstice ponderings

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Winter Solstice ponderings

Today is the Winter Solstice in the Northern Hemisphere. It has always held mixed meanings for me. My first wedding was held near the Autumnal Equinox and my last wedding was on the Winter Solstice. I came full circle through the seasons and while that final wedding boded no better than the first, it was and will be, my last.

This year, I want to focus on the actually perceivable aspects of it; the eternal pendulum of dark versus light finally swings toward the light again. The darkness has been building up to this point, and now the light finally wins for while. I am going to make sure that I hold that thought within myself… KEEP YOUR LIGHT.

The darkest days are over for this cycle.

From here out, I will stay mindful of this with the intent that it will guide my choices and my attitude in the coming months. Just as Winter signifies an end, it also indicates the impending Spring. A time of rebirth. A time of renewal. A time of creation.

And that is the miracle.

Reflections, regrets, realizations, and flinching awareness.

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Reflections, regrets, realizations, and flinching awareness.

I usually do some sort of wrap up at the end of the year/season, Christmas for some reason makes me nostalgic and introspective. I have such mixed feelings about it, it holds many good memories for me and yet, so many more traumas are associated with it for me and their connected grief…. Anyway, my wrap ups and year in reviews…Historically, they have usually been a somewhat vague and tongue in cheek collection of my “about mes.” This year may still be vague, but perhaps more palatable.

I haven’t been able to blog lately, mostly due to simply not having the time, but partially due to me not making the time and choosing to retreat within myself for the sake of not thinking about the world, my reality, my life, my relationships, etc.

Ah, but the subconscious has a way of poo pooing that sort of defense mechanism, doesn’t it? Little by little, mini passive-aggressive comments worm their way out of my mouth and cosmic 2x4s work their way into my dreams. #Teamnosleep, my most constant bedtime companion for the better of the last two years has given me a sort of push lately to lie in silent, darkened rumination; accompanied by only my most forbidden thoughts.

Two of my exes are deceased. The first, I grieved for his family and his son, but it didn’t affect me for too long, as I really did not know him very long or very well, in hindsight. The most recent, died by his own hand in a scenario I was all too familiar with. With his death, I was confronted with the very real fact that the imagined future interaction between us could never happen. I had always anticipated that some time in the future, we would run into each other in a gas station or a bar, back in our hometown, have a drink and simple interaction wherein we forgave each other and spoke about how we had both come to understand the faults of the relationship as well as our own responsibility in them. It would end with a smile and a hug then we would move on, waving or even speaking briefly if ever we came across each other in the future. But as numerous stories, songs, and movies depict, “someday” often does not happen and you must live with the regret that tomorrow never came. Make sure people know how you feel before it is too late, right? Ah, regret. Regret is a bitch.

I’ve tried very diligently to not live with regret and to make peace with my actions and find the silver lining in them that are typically easier to find in review, right? Through a looking glass, darkly…Had one not made this choice, this would not have happened. If one had not left this person, you would not have met this person. Life really is a “Choose your own Adventure” book, only you can’t skip ahead and try it out before you choose, right? No, you can only walk back through the choices and woolgather about the possible ways things could have gone, given that one, that fifteen choice(s) again. I digress.

Back to the point. Regret.

The word itself means “A feeling of sadness, repentance, or disappointment over something that has happened or been done.” as a noun, “Feel sad, repentant, or disappointed over (something that has happened or been done, especially a loss or missed opportunity)” as a verb.

I have come find myself a sad representation of all I champion when it comes to regret. I encourage people to regret nothing and yet I myself, regret so much. So many choices I have made in order to not disappoint other people, choices I have made to make things easier for myself, for others, choices I have NOT made due to my own fear.

I miss friends that I have lost contact with out of my own pride and stubbornness.

I regret giving up on things and people to seemingly save myself.

I personally can hold a grudge longer than anyone I know. It gives me a protective coating to avoid dealing with feelings. It is how I have come to be able to dissociate from relationships which have ended and protect my stupid heart. By the time I have lost the passion of the grudge and come full circle to face my emotions behind the grudge, it is no longer an appropriate time confront and deal with those feelings as a party to it, it is then a one sided process that is not as cathartic as it could have been. Take my relationship with my mother, for example.

It has been years since I had any kind of positive relationship with her. If she was to die tomorrow, would I regret not forgiving her? What would it be like to not have to carry the negativity of hating her, resenting her, PITYING HER? I know it would be good for myself, maybe for her. But I can’t do it.

Other relationships I have had, I want to call them up and just be like, “I miss my friend. Here is a rundown of everything I know I did that hurt you. Can we just be pals again?”

But you can’t. You have no right to insert yourself back into their script once you have taken yourself out of it.

Just like in a choose your own adventure book, you can’t go back without the knowledge of how it went before. It guides your actions and makes you question if had the second choice been the first choice, would the end result have been the same? We can never know.

The “What ifs” are a dangerous cycle of questioning oneself. You have to be selfless and know that no matter what you feel, your actions affect other people.

Today I make the choice to accept the repercussions of my previous actions.

Today I decide to make more conscientious decisions about my world, so that in the future, I have less “what ifs” to ponder. No more regrets.

Today I choose their happiness over my guilt.

To be continued.

The American Public Education Factory: what is it producing?….Volume 1

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The American Public Education Factory: what is it producing?….Volume 1

I have been really trying to get some sort of an outline in my head about this topic for a while; I have decided to just start blogging it as it comes because every time I think I have it concretely fleshed out in my head, some new thought comes in about the social injustices associated with public school systems. From epistemology to NCLB, to “common core” to booster clubs, regurgitation vs. creative thought AKA actually thinking, ingenuity to different types of intelligence, to the perpetuation of rape culture and #Iammorethanadistraction, ugh the list can go on.

I am going to start with socioeconomic inequality in schools. Studies have shown that the more engaged in school a child is, the better they do. It isn’t rocket surgery. If a child is involved in sports, music, drama, whatever their choice of extracurricular activities are, the busier they are (no time for other naughtiness), the more invested they are in better grades, the more involved their parents might be in their world, “the more” everything. Things like teamwork, hard work, friendship, conflict negotiation, community, working for success AFTER failure, etc. are learned without the child knowing that they are learning it. But when these things are made to be so expensive that only the middle class and up can participate, well then, now we have yet another layer of oppression adding to the intersectionality of what it is to be a middle or high school student.

To over-share with a little self disclosure, I make what I assume to be a pretty “comfortable” wage, although it is definitely not the magical salary I was led to believe a masters degree would grant me. I make a little more than 50% of the “average median income” in America this year. I believe this probably makes me considered “middle class” but just barely. We still qualify for free lunch, thank sweet ancient baby alien space monkey Jebus, but it is not easy. I am still living paycheck to paycheck. I have come to terms most days with living one paycheck away from homelessness, mostly because as a housing case manager, I know what resources are available in the area.

I digress.

Anyhow, my point was that my child is involved in the school sponsored dance team, the fine arts credit required orchestra, and the foreign language credit required Spanish. We receive a discounted “activity fee” for the “sport” but the uniforms ($135 to start, with additional costumes throughout the year), “required contribution to the booster club” of $100 (which my child/myself get to harass friends, co-workers, family, and social media with in order to raise by selling coupon books or car wash tickets, not to mention the $1,200 dollar “Spring Break trip to Disney World” that all the “rich kids” get to go to, but sadly, probably not my child. This causes lateral oppression within the team of the haves vs the have nots; because the kids KNOW who will be able to go and who will not from the beginning. It is not fair. And yes, I know, “Life isn’t fair, Princess.” One+ more kiddo(s) financed OUT.

But come on! What is the booster club for anyway? Isn’t it there to support the kids who WANT to participate and work their asses off to participate? The answer sadly is, “No.” It is there to make up the difference between public support/donations from the school’s budget for sports. That is a shame. But go ahead, buy some more computers. Make the teachers learn a different way to teach because they aren’t churning out productive enough regurgitaters at the rate the country wants. That is a much better use of funds……And tell me again why kids here are obese and live online?

Ah, speaking of obesity….the school lunch. It is not what it could be. I recently read about France’s model and how lovely it is. What a pipe dream for good ol’ Merikah. Instead we have corporate sponsors, such as Subway and energy drinks in the schools. Which always look better than god knows what is really in the instant processed mashed potatoes and goo.

Spanish class requires fees. For what? I have no freaking clue. Is there a lab associated with Spanish? One+ more kiddo(s) financed OUT.

Orchestra requires not only a $100 fee per year to “pay for music” but also a rental of an instrument if you cannot afford to buy one. The schools do not even loan instruments anymore. How many kids love music but cannot participate in band or orchestra because of the cost?  I was told that because the school was making photo copies of music for the students they were fined $4000. Isn’t there some sort of fair use for schools to use copyrighted music?

“Notwithstanding the provisions of sections 17 U.S.C. § 106 and 17 U.S.C. § 106A, the fair use of a copyrighted work, including such use by reproduction in copies or phonorecords or by any other means specified by that section, for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching (including multiple copies for classroom use), scholarship, or research, is not an infringement of copyright. In determining whether the use made of a work in any particular case is a fair use the factors to be considered shall include:
  1. the purpose and character of the use, including whether such use is of a commercial nature or is for nonprofit educational purposes;
  2. the nature of the copyrighted work;
  3. the amount and substantiality of the portion used in relation to the copyrighted work as a whole; and
  4. the effect of the use upon the potential market for or value of the copyrighted work.”

Yeah, I thought so.

So tell me again why I have to pay for music for my child to continue playing in the school orchestra? And why must they also have “orchestral uniforms” which include for the gender binary, long black dresses for the females, penguin suits for the males. Could we not just wear black pants and shirts or skirts? We must buy these clothes for a high school class? Good grief. One+ more kiddo(s) financed OUT.

Did I mention all these fees are due either at registration or during the first MONTH of school (save the spring break trip, luckily “they understand what a hardship it might be for some families so they give them until late winter to confirm these amounts.” Cause between you and me, as a single FT working parent that gets minimal child support, registration, extras, school supplies, school fees, school clothes, and anything else needed at the end of summer/beginning of Fall, is freaking HARD to figure out.

These examples and many others show it is unaffordable for many if not most kids to participate in the activities that studies show teach resilience and community. It is unreasonably expensive for ALL kids to get the protective effects of participation in these activities. So they must find other outlets and no one seems to like those outcomes, and yet…..

I contacted the school to find out what options are available as a low income parent. You know, because despite being on whatever magical list they keep us free lunch families on, they do not send home any information on these sorts of options. There are some “scholarships” available the first week of October, I was told. But it doesn’t cover everything. It’s a first come, first serve sort of deal where a committee decides who gets it. Based on what? I don’t know. But you better believe it is not a blind decision. Someone is making judgments either internally or perhaps even out loud. I imagine fucked up words like “deserve” and “worth” and “investment” are tossed around in that conversation.

So back to the original point and not my own personal struggle…The socioeconomic injustices of a public school system…. You want a college scholarship? You want to take classes you might *GASP* be interested in? You want to do sports? Music? Drama? Prepare to pay my friend cause this is college. Public High School.

If your parents can’t afford it, screw you.

If your parents feel shame asking for help, screw you.

If your parents don’t speak English as a first language and aren’t sure how to advocate for you/your family, screw you.

If your parents are too busy because they work 8,327,498,374 hours a week and don’t have the time to contact the school, screw you.

If your parents have nothing but time because they are unemployed, depressed, worried, stressed, whatever, screw you.

Welcome to Public High School.

To be continued.

Warning: Passive Aggressive post ahead…. #crazyexes

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Warning: Passive Aggressive post ahead…. #crazyexes

I haven’t had time to do anything meaningful on here in many moons and this will not be truly mind-shattering either. There are lots of things in the world going on that I could write about, Ferguson, California Earthquakes, new ancient aliens episodes, rape culture, journalists being beheaded, etc. But those things are too heavy and I am feeling quite solipsistic. So instead I am taking this space to passive aggressively speak to a cyber stalker whom I (perhaps egotistically) believe will read it.

I have exes. Most of us do. But while I have engaged in some “harmless” ex-stalking in my day like casually checking out their public facebook profile photo just out of plain morbid curiosity, I can with all honesty state I have NEVER friend requested his or her new partner.

I do not want to be their pal. I do not want them to know I was sizing up them up as a previous partner.  

It has actually been sometime since I have done that regardless and I like to think that was due to some insecurity I have outgrown. 

Now, in the last year plus, I have had not one, BUT TWO of my partner’s exes cozying up to me in the cyber world. Really.

One sent threatening messages, showing her true 40+ year old age to be somewhere about 14, this was easily squashed with a magical feature called BLOCKING. No further contact. ¡Salud! 

Oh, but recently, the last month or so, another one popped up. Now mind you, I think my social media presence is ridiculously large, I concur. BUT I have things as locked down as the illusion of privacy permits (sans this blog) and most things have a fake name associated with them or require you need my REAL email to communicate. Well this one, I give her hacker search crazy bitch toolbox props cause she is EVERYWHERE.

On my twitter.

On my facebook.

On my tumblr.

On my instagram.

On my F**KING Pinterest. I had to disable it. I am very sad. Pinterest, get some better privacy settings. Sad face emoticon.

And when the above modes of contact were not successful, she started liking my things or communicating through my partner’s family members we had in common. So I had to delete THEM. That is not good in a newish relationship when you are trying to establish relationships with family members who live out of area, especially when THEY added you, now I just seem rude.

What can be gained of this for you?!

Yes, I can see from your very public disclosures you just got left recently by your partner.

I get it.

I am sorry, but….my partner isn’t available as a back up.

We are currently still together sooooo……

Get some counseling. Talk to a friend in real life. Focus on your kids. Focus on yourself. Self Care. Exes are exes for a reason. Truly.

If my partner wanted communication with you to continue, it would have.

And if that was your angle, um, why would you approach me, not them? Oh, that’s right. They deleted THEIRS cause of this.

DOH.

Stop it.

Just stop. 

Fire walk with me…

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Fire walk with me…

I haven’t blogged in a while. It’s been a combination of not having time and not having really anything nice or uplifting to say about anything. Yesterday was probably the lowest day energy and attitude-wise I have had in a couple years. I don’t think that it was necessarily anything in particular, just a lame culmination of the last few months and the proverbial straw on the camel’s back. So as things just seemed to domino in my world, professionally and of course personally because I am not one of those cool people that can leave my job at the office…. I just kind of gave up yesterday.

 

But as I always do, I woke up this morning and decided to try again cause really that’s all you can do.

I went to work, decided no matter what I was going to have a good GD day.

And I did.

I helped a family get housed that has been in shelter since January and it was a win. I really left work yesterday sure that it would not happen for them and rehearsing that conversation of sadness.

When I went to the shelter today to meet them and have them sign some final paperwork, I was showered in the grace of the experience. Everyone there is like a family. The family I work with has been there longer than anyone else in the shelter and literally had a couple days left on their 3rd extension. Everyone was happy and congratulating them, high fives, hugs, tears, etc. Their kids? One of them was so happy he was about to burst. He couldn’t even imagine having a room of his own again. The mom who has not let herself have any hope the last few months was over the moon. I honestly had never seen her smile a real smile. She had not even allowed herself the anticipation of this house.

It was the best experience I can remember having in a long time.

And it reminded me of this song:

So I ask you….

What is YOUR fire?

Is it waiting for fuel?

Are you the fuel for someone else’s?

Whatever lights that passion in you, however briefly….

FIND IT.

FEED IT.

The fuel is out there.

Let the spin stop.

Ignore the distractions and feel the burn.