Where the Wild Blooms Begin

English: Tree in winter. Part of a sequence of...

Childhood gave me a gift more valuable than I ever realized. Growing up in my childhood religion, people joined the church, “got saved” and many around saw their outward changes and cheered.

They saw old habits drop and lives healed. We talked about the life-giving flow of the Spirit. It was exciting.

Soon people forgot about the flow of the spirit. Many became fixated on the changes. The bad words not said or the clothing the converts wore.

Sunday morning came, and we preached about the clothing and the drinking, forgetting about the life force that caused the changes.

Lies, Illusion, Truth

I am thankful for the gift, sight. I crave truth. I’m meaning the ability to see past illusions. In a book I read, Sorgitzak: Old Forest Craft, Veronica Cummer called it Sooth, after the old Forest tradition. Seeing through illusions in practical life has been important.

When a person says something with their words, but their actions are speaking the opposite, know the truth. It’s easy to change your clothes to impress another.

It’s easy to pretend to be kind and gentle. We’ve all seen people that lie with actions and words, but something leaves you uneasy. Underneath, the lie, the discord, is screaming.

Behind the Picture Screen

A picture formed in my mind as I was reading this book. For me, it clarified what I’ve seen but didn’t always understand. Hopefully, I can describe so others can understand.

I remember the Viewfinders I played with as a child. I’d insert the round plastic disk, pull the handle and a new image was there. I could play for hours.

Take the Viewfinder image and underlay another big whole picture. I call this picture underneath “Truth” and it doesn’t turn. Pretend the picture underneath is a picture of life and love. Maybe even a tree of life. It’s unchanging.

Each pull of the Viewfinder’s handle brings a new picture on top of the tree. A cross appears. A statue of Mary. A man is sitting cross-legged in quietness. The tree remains underneath. It continues the seasons of its life.

Springtime blooming, summer brings full green vitality, autumn colors, and winter with its bare bones. Turn the handle, change the religious face, and you can choose where to look.

What do you see? Do you see the statue of Mary with the colors of Autumn and worry that your religion is dying? Or do you see the tree with its season turning and know true religion with its love and life never ends.

Life expresses itself

When a person came to our church and become saved, they flipped a switch to allow life to flow into them. They felt the vitality flow into them and wanted to adapt to the contemporary expression of religion.

I watched a documentary called Fat, Sick and, Nearly Dead. Two men changed their physical lives, and you saw their charisma return, and their will to live restored. These were two sick men.

800px-klimt_tree_of_life_1909It was the most inspirational film I’ve seen in a while, and there was no praying involved. No chanting, no symbolism, no bowing. I was in awe because there in front of me was lifeforce in action. Sooth. Truth. The tree of life is under the pictures flashing in front of our societies’ Viewfinder.

The truth is there, and once you see it, you will hardly notice anything else.

It’s almost spring here in Oklahoma. The squirrels are active and the birds are noisy. The Dogwood trees have put out their blossoms. And of course, the people are sneezing. The chatter of spring has arrived. I love this time of the year. Beginnings are fun. The thunderstorms and the smell of Petrichor.

Assume At Your Own Risk


Chevrolet Camaro IROC-Z

Assumptions are everywhere. Like flies over roadkill. And they are sneaky. You don’t realize one is staring you in the face until something doesn’t work the way you expected. Something is out-of-place. But it’s not really. Your assumption, your assumed script, is wrong.
I think of the little old couple you see walking hand in hand in the park. We are quick to assume. He hands her an ice cream cone and we melt. Isn’t that sweet.  Until you learn the truth, that possibly they just met in person after online dating, you will see what you want to see. It’s like those pictures that shift. At first glance you see the face of the crone but take another look and you see a senorita dancing.

The first magazine article I ever sold was about something I had seen and had to do a double take. An older man walking his dog. A little black dog. I was driving to the library in the small town that I lived in and there on Main street, suddenly the dog ran up a tree. The man was still holding the handle of the leash and my mouth dropped open. I slowed down. Not a dog at all. It was a black cat. The man was walking his cat. Please remember, this is small town america, 15+ years ago. I had to tell someone. I was so flabbergasted when I went into the library, I hurried in to speak with the librarian who told me quite a story.

They say when you are piloting a ship, you must stick to your coordinates. If you are off just a pinch, you’ll miss your destination completely. Won’t even come close. Pilots of large aircraft don’t fly by whim. Charts, gauges, coordinates and lots of practice. They don’t assume.

First Ice Cream Cone

We know how easy it is to be influenced in our perceptions, although we’d like to believe that ours are not so easily swayed as the common person’s. Detectives say you can ask different people who saw the same crime or accident and get completely different stories. I can see how that would be possible. According to a podcast on Radiolab, our perceptions are malleable in the beginning. After retelling your version of the story a few times, then it becomes a more solid memory. So if you were at the scene of an accident and suddenly someone runs up to you and asks if you saw the red Camaro that drove off, the image of the red Camaro would be formed into your memory. So cleverly insinuated into the memory that you think it was something you saw with your own eyes. But you didn’t.  There never was a red Camaro.

Expectations and perceptions develop throughout our lives. Our family and teachers help form our view of life, along with events that happen in our childhood. What we expect, what we believe can happen, becomes ingrained. Somewhere back in my history I developed a fear of stop lights and crossroads. I’m not sure when, how, or why it developed, but I did see it in action one morning. While stopped at an intersection, on a busy street, I was waiting for the light to turn green. The lane to my right was a turning lane and it was empty. There were no cars behind me. I keep watch (training) while I’m sitting still. What am i watching for? Collisions. Impending doom. I feel it and I’m glancing in all my mirrors and watching to my left and my right. I’m not sure what I’d do because I’m stuck at that spot until the light turns. I glanced one more time in my rear view mirror and noticed a delivery truck coming up behind me, but he seemed to be slowing. I’m still watching all around me, so my eyes left him to check to the left. Then I heard the sound of a rushing vehicle. At that moment, I there was a collision of false perception and paranoid expectations. The sound of a rushing vehicle coupled with the truck behind me slammed my panic button and took my breath away. I just knew I was going to be rear ended and smashed into the car in front of me. But nothing happened. The panic turned into a question. What just happened? I looked behind me and there was the truck with plenty of space between us. The reality struck me. my aha moment. A car had sped into the right lane. A non-event that took my breath away. What am I? A trembly old woman? Seriously, I felt 10 degrees of silly.

Rear View Mirror

If you look at a situation, a freeze framed moment, without putting it in perspective you will most likely read it wrong. For example, if you have a person who owns a  broken down old house, what are your assumptions? It could be a person who is down on his luck. Job loss, medical bills, termites, basically can’t afford to pay for repairs. Or it could be someone who purchased the house to fix it up. Are they waiting for a loan to come through and then they will repair the roof and replace the broken windows? A snatch of a photo gives you such a brief glimpse. How would you know? Then again, you are still predicting the future with either one of those scenarios. The man who lost his job may find one again. It’s possible that even tomorrow he could receive a big bonus or help from a friend. The one waiting for the loan may get hit by litigation or they could have a string of bad luck. Ever see the movie Money Pit?

Assumptions and future forecasting is a precarious slope. You may end up being right and glow in the glory of your own wisdom. But then, you could be completely wrong. I still say God has a sense of humor. Sometimes it borders on the ridiculous.

Which is why I hate stereotyping and racial profiling. Also I’m blonde…and I’ve met just as many ditsy brunettes and redheads with IQ’s lower than mine. So assume at your own risk.

It’s not about the colors.

 

When I was around ten years old, I was very concerned about Hell. I tried to do right and not wrong. I was careful not to lie or to steal. I wanted to do good things because I truly believed in Hell and God and punishment. I believed there was a definite right and wrong.

Like many in America, I believed that only Christians went to heaven. My faith was, even more, extreme. We also taught that only those of our belief, Pentecostal, followed the true path. Certainly not Catholics or Mormons or any other faiths. Baptists and Methodists were questionable. And that scared me. How did I know which belief was right?

There were definite steps my religion taught me that insured salvation.

  1. Accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior.
  2. Confess your sins.
  3. Believe that Jesus was the only begotten son of god. And he grafted us into his vine.

This was my only way of confirmation. This took away any rights I might have of interpreting for myself, any twinge or spark I might feel is true. My thought, my belief was always wrong if it didn’t meet the 3 requirements above. So there is a right and a wrong at that point.
This lead the 10-year-old me to wonder, what if? What if my religion got it wrong? What if we were the religion that was incorrect? How would I know? Mormons believe their faith just as strongly as I do mine.
If you think any religion is right or wrong, you are entirely missing the point. The Pentecostal aren’t right or wrong with their extreme exclusiveness and certainly the Unitarians aren’t right or wrong with their extreme inclusiveness.

You may come to think of all the colors of the rainbow are good. They are all okay. We are all okay. But that’s not the point. It’s not about the colors of the rainbow. It’s about the rainbow. It’s also about what makes the rainbow. We perceive the colors, but they are not colors. They are light, refracted through the water particles and the dust in the sky that is light pulsing into your eyeball, and your brain interprets it as color. Keywords are perceived and interprets. When you get that, take another look around you. At ten years of age, I had no understanding. I was 10. A child has no skill to interpret an act committed by someone. I translated others intentions and put them into boxes that were provided by those around me. Right, Wrong, Saved, Damned.

It’s not about the colors. Red is right, and Green is wrong. It’s not that all the colors of the rainbow are all right or all wrong. Inclusive or exclusive. We are all one light shining through the water particles, creating the beautiful rainbow. It’s all about the light.

There is No Savior Coming

There is no savior coming. The world didn’t end and the planet is still spinning. We waited. We went to our rooftops and waited. Patiently. We looked up and knew our salvation would come. Our justice. Our time of redemption. Our toils and hard days are over. Finally there was a reward for our long labor. Surely, it wasn’t in vain.

Ha! Nothing happened. But what does that mean? No Santa coming down the chimney? No Peter Rabbit? What about Jesus? Or the Saints? Surely someone is coming. They do know we are looking for them, right?

Why has there been no savior? Where is our hero? Better yet, have you looked at ourselves lately? We are acting like children. We are acting like teenagers whose parents are out-of-town. We have the house to ourselves and we’ve wrecked it.

I was thinking about this in the light of Santa and childhood stories and it dawned on me. What if no saviors are coming because they want us to grow up? It’s entirely possible that if there are gods watching over us, they are using tough love. When the fridge is empty, we might have to go to the store ourselves. We might have to wash a dish or mow our own lawn. Jiminy Cricket! Has it come to that?

Yikes! God can’t be that cruel could he? This is all speculation on my part. I don’t have a divine link or anything mystical like that. I do know child development. When a child is on the floor throwing a tantrum, the most effective method is to walk away. We want, as parents, to grab the child and stop the noise, but that’s not the best way for a child to learn. People learn experimentally. Or, in the words of science, empirically. http://www.thefreedictionary.com/Empirical

A plague, on which is represented St.George re...

We learn by trying. We learn by failing. We learn not to stick our hands on the hot stove because we have done it. Ouch. Hot. Parents that protect their children from failure aren’t really helping them at all. They are crippling them. Children allowed to explore and grow can make better decisions. They aren’t innocent but they are wise. There is a sense of fullness to their energy.

If I were a god, if I were in charge, I would wait. I would not jump in to rescue us. We have not come to the fullness of our learning. We need to experience our own strength. This is not to show us how inept we are or how much we need a big strong god. This is how you grow a strong person. You let them make choices. You let them try.

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Just the Taste

English: A woman eating an apple Français : Un...

Earlier I was eating an apple and enjoying it. I was just eating the apple, nothing else, and it was delicious. The crunch. The juice. It was a very good apple. So much of my eating has become duty. Just enjoying good food is difficult because we are all so uptight about eating healthy and not overeating. I’m right there in the mix of it also. Sitting down to eat a whole gallon of ice cream isn’t enjoying it though. That’s a compulsion.

Documenting my food intake is absolutely not my style. Of course like everything I do, I volley between a strict watch to eating whatever I want. Until I get in sync with my body though I feel I need to be aware of what I am doing. My main problem is when I start to watch, I also start to grade. I judge.

Will eat for food
(Photo credit: altemark)

Surely there’s a better way of staying healthy. A relaxed way. Somehow to respect ourselves and respect our food. With honor. I know that sounds goofy and all new age, but there is some truth in there. The current way is to tighten and clench. Try harder. Work out more. And that goes against everything I feel. It is what is wrong with society. Tougher rules and stricter laws. I’m not an anarchist by any means, but there is just only so much that another rule can do. What happens if you beat a dead horse? Your arm gets tired. Only that. He can’t go any faster. He’s dead.

Tighten Your Belt - Austerity

To me, when I get in those situations where I’ve buckled down and tightened up and can’t discipline myself any more, I know that I’m needing a new approach. Something isn’t right about the current one. If it’s not working, try something else.

So I want to try something else in regards to being healthy, but what? Counting calories? Exercise? Well here’s an original, accepting myself as I am. Hmmm, I’m not a big fan of that. Actually that one scares me the most. I read somewhere that the thing that scares you the most is the thing that needs to be done. I wonder if that is true? Somewhere in all of my efforts I need to know when enough is enough. But I’m not sure if it is yet. I have another hoorah! left in me.

Crimson, Eleven, Delight, Smell of dust after rain

The Eleventh Doctor and Amy Pond The Eleventh Doctor and Amy Pond (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have a game I like to play because I love word games.  I took the idea from an episode of Doctor Who, Season 6. In that episode the companions to The Doctor, Amy and Rory had a locked door to open. They were given the pass code, but not told how to use it. Now we are all familiar with passwords and security codes. A jumbled bit of numbers and letters. Very secret things. The password was Crimson, Eleven, Delight, Petrichor. First the couple tried saying the words, Crimson, Eleven, Delight, Petrichor (smell of dust after rain.) Nothing happened. The door didn’t open. Then Amy tried a different way. Instead of just saying the words, she imagined the words. She felt the words. She pulled out the emotional link from inside of her that matched the words of the pass code. Crimson (crisp red flag flying in the breeze), Eleven (her eleventh birthday cake), Delight (the day of her wedding), Petrichor (a water  droplet hitting the dirt.) The doors open.

Once an idea is opened, many can run with it. Today many are revealing ideas. Opening doors. Exposing secrets. Teaching long forgotten truths to those around us. It’s not enough any more to merely go through the motions and do the job. The more effective way of living, the one that causes us to engage our emotions, demands our active cooperation. These aren’t new methods. They are forgotten tools. These were common in times past by Druids and Shamans. Modern commercials grab us and persuade us to buy their product by using our emotions. For example, Jif brand peanut butter once used the phrase, “Choosy mothers choose Jif.” As if to say, only mothers that give a damn about their children choose Jif. And if you don’t buy Jif peanut butter, you are an unfit mother. Much like the days when humanity learned about little things called germs causing disease, today we are learning to use more of our minds. Learning to open doors by engaging our entire selves.

Wake up. We are learning to fly by intention instead of brute strength. It’s a new day. Pay attention. We are learning new ways of seeing the world. New ways and long forgotten ways. If germs make us sick, what about our emotions and the emotions of others around us. I agree that actions count, but actions without connection is dry and blows away.

English: Emotions English: Emotions (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My game is simple. I want to use the game to learn a new way of being. I want to engage my emotions with words. Random words or thought out ones. Why? Because I’m now aware of being able to do this. Because I believe humanity is evolving.

Buddhism teaches us to “be” no matter where we are or what we are doing. If you are washing the dishes, be there washing the dishes. If you are eating, be aware of eating. I admit that most of the time I avoid the unpleasant and forget to pay attention during the pleasant. Being awake in the Now is a habit to practice.

We learned well how to be robots and act out our parts. We learned our roles. We learned to put things in boxes and to analyze and dissect. We can take things apart to see how they once worked. We learned to distract ourselves when things are painful or boring and when everything is pleasant we are afraid it won’t last.

Four words: Crimson, Eleven, Delight, Petrichor (the smell of dust after rain.) Or try picking your own four words: Color, Number, Feeling, Smell.

Appreciating Fear

Construction
Construction (Photo credit: [Sazzy B])
You just never know. You start a project and have it all planned out in your mind, but BAM! it morphs into something different from what you expect.  What I would like is to see from someone else’s eyes for a time. I like to read a variety of books to see how other people think. I live with myself all day long. I keep thinking that my way isn’t the best or maybe I don’t know what I’m doing, which often I don’t.

Aren’t we really all blundering around until we have an AHA! moment of our own? We read guides and how-tos or listen to advice from friends, but all they can tell is how to get there from the place they started.

While writing this bit, I have realized that honestly people might want to hear my story, from my point of view. Yes, it’s nice for me to learn different views, but others want to hear mine. Learning is good, but my learning is sometimes a duck and dodge move, an avoidance because I’m afraid.

There are scary monsters under my bed and they pop their heads out to remind me of my insecurities. Wouldn’t want to forget and get all big-headed, would we? So my fears remind me of my humanity. My fears keep me tethered in this reality.

It’s good to remember our human side. I sometimes forget that it’s my humanity, my falling down and getting back up, my bleeding bandaged psych that gives me any wisdom at all. It is my wandering that teaches me the best way to go. I would always question, is my way better or theirs? So since I have wandered and gotten lost, then found my way back out again, I can say with confidence, this way works.

Hello Kitty Bandaid
Hello Kitty Bandaid (Photo credit: c.a.s.e.y)

I have a thing for experts, as many of you know. I’ve written about it before. How to win in 10 easy steps. Become a superhero! Yes. That’s what I want. The reason is simple. I like shortcuts. I don’t like being stupid or even appearing stupid. Being caught in my insecurities is embarrassing. I’ve never liked it. Maybe no one does. Lately, learning to get comfortable with my fear has been my greatest strength.  It has come in handy many times.  Each time I feel the fear, I know I’m in new territory. New territory is a good thing for me. It means I will keep my mind young and I’m learning and developing my adaptive mental muscles.

If you read any of Seth Godin’s work, you know that he talks about this new age we have entered. No longer in the Industrial age, we are all learning to adapt to the Communication and Connectivity Age. Conformity and Standardization are the trademarks of the Industrial age. Raising our kids to be “good” and to sit still and be mindless sheep are no longer the best ways to prepare them for the future. They must learn to adapt and to watch for trends themselves. To assert themselves in difficult situations. Handle conflicts diplomatically. Life is no longer about might equals right.

It’s sometimes hard for me to spot the trends. I’m not talking about skirt lengths and fall colors here. More the way we earn money or do business. I’m thinking about the story “Who Moved My Cheese?” If you have never heard the story, it’s a very simple one.  Mice in the maze know where their cheese is stored. They know the quickest way to get to it and check on it everyday. as all good mice should. These are the cleverest mice. The fastest and the most efficient. Mice college, work hard ethics and all of that stuff.  But one day their cheese wasn’t in it’s normal spot. What to do? Sit and cry in the corner? Yell and scream? Protest on Wall Street? No, that’s not how the cleverest mice handled it. They immediately went looking for it. No pause, no emotional damage. Pffft,…that didn’t work out. Move on. No indignation or resentment. But you promised! How dare you? Just move forward. Try the next door. Then try the next. Forget what this one or that one promised. Forget how it’s always been done or the way it’s supposed to be. Try every door. Check every cabinet, every shelf. Keep trying until you find it.

People that succeed don’t just try once. They try this way, then that way, then another until they figure out what works.

Slipping Into a Coma

Cliff
Cliff (Photo credit: Oneras)

It’s difficult to work long hours then come home and write. It’s difficult to raise a family and keep a roof over their heads. What do these two things have in common? They are both things we want. And we want them more than the task is difficult.

The difficulty of the task is what heightens our awareness. If a task is easy we lose focus. We nod off. We slip into a coma. zzzzzz. Yeah, I’m right there with you. Ask the guy climbing the sheer rock face of the cliff. Does he have trouble focusing? Is his mind wandering? Maybe thinking about the game last night? No! He’s trying to stay alive. And maybe in the process he’ll make it to the top of the mountain and watch the little bitty people on the ground.

Are you having trouble staying focused every day? Maybe a couple of caffeinated drinks aren’t what you need. You’re bored?

Notice the symptoms. When does it start? Is it the job? Or it could be you’ve forgotten why you’re there. Pep talk time. You’re there to earn some money. That money pays the rent. It buys the groceries. Maybe you’ve forgotten your value. Do you need a reminder?

Petrochelidon pyrrhonota (Cliff Swallows - low...
Petrochelidon pyrrhonota (Cliff Swallows – lower) and Riparia riparia (Sand Martins – upper) (Photo credit: Arthur Chapman)

Did you forget where you were going? What thrilled you when you started? Remember that. Climb your mountain, dance your dance. No matter if it seems impossible. Even if it is completely impossible. So you never make it to the top. Who cares? Enjoy the climb.

Moods and Cravings

Earlier I was feeling a bit morose. I was feeling a bit sorry for myself. Actually, it has been for the last several days. Janet had private a pity party. I didn’t stay in that state because I know that it doesn’t help. I prefer to find the reason for my mood and do something about it. Most of the time, my moods come and go without lingering. This time my emotions and I seemed to be playing peek-a-boo. That’s why I realized that this could be important.

Not hiding

I stopped swiping them to the side and just looked. Yes, I missed seeing my children since they’ve grown up. I missed reading their cute little books to them and watching the cartoons they enjoyed. Their squirmy bodies would curl up next to me on the couch while we watched The Lion King or 101 Dalmatians for the thousandth time. Memories and grief are normal and usually don’t last. This time I realized it wasn’t just those instances that were absent. I needed to wake up and notice what was lacking in my life.

Cravings that linger

It reminds me of food cravings. Most foods that I crave are an impulse. I read about brownies and suddenly I’m overwhelmed with a craving for brownies. The same happens with coffee or popcorn or any other food. But other times a food craving lingers and I realize I’m craving something my body needs at that moment.

Using the same logic for my emotions, I must need something that I was getting during the time I was spending time with my kiddos. I’m sure that you’ve analyzed this and you are shouting at your screen how obvious it is. Sometimes I am a little slow when it comes to my emotional needs.

It happens most often when I am trying to fill an idealized version of myself. Much like looking at a picture in a magazine of a living room. It’s decorated so perfectly. All of the books stacked and the table is free of clutter. Shoes are out of sight and obviously, no one has a throw pillow on the floor or a blanket nailed over a window to block the sunlight. My living space is real and as much as I want it impressively decorated and ingeniously designed, it isn’t.  My house fits me with its galley kitchen and old refrigerator. The place is close to the highways I use and the cost of maintaining my place is minimal. No fuss and that’s how I like it.

This is where I live

This body of mine is a real body. It is my living space. I have to treat it in the way that helps it work the best. If I over stress it with high expectations or overwhelm it with too many activities, it will start throwing alarm switches until I listen. This last week my body has started with reminding me that frugality is admirable but stinginess is cruel. My washing machine quit working a few weeks back so I had been “making do” until I could save enough to buy a new washer. While that sounds wonderful, I realize I was not being frugal for a purely financial reason. There was a huge chunk of ego that wanted to boast how worthy I am! Quite a laughable thing once I realize what a tricky thing our psyche is. After taking a step back and looking at the situation I went to a local home improvement store and financed a washing machine. True, I could have waited, but it was stressing me unnecessarily.

Herd of trolleys
Herd of trolleys (Photo credit: Joe Dunckley)

Have you ever tried to push a shopping cart with a twisted wheel? That’s how it felt. I kept going, kept trying, because that’s what I do. I keep pushing because I know I can. I’m strong and capable, right? When I took care of my needs I realized how tiring my enduring had made me. When I stopped trying to push the broken cart down the aisle I could release the burden I was carrying.

What was I talking about? Pity party?

So, back to my pity party. What is your estimation of my mood? Was it because I really missed my children? Or maybe I missed the moments that seemed carefree? To me there were no better moments in my life than those when I could just sit and be there with my boys. Them and their little boy TV shows filled with whimsical characters and superhero outfits. I feel better now. Revived and refreshed. Somehow just taking the time for myself to remember that part of my life, the joy of it, has brought a smile to my face. I am no longer sad that I can’t have those little guys as a part of my life anymore. They are a little big for Power Rangers. I can now come back to my present moment and I can spread a bit of the whimsy to today. I realize I had unrealistic expectations of myself and I wasn’t allowing myself to live in the moment.

  • I choose not to kill my soul with harsh criticism and unrealistic expectations.
  • I choose to let joy and life flow through me, so that when the time comes I can also bring joy to others.
  • I choose to be a part of life in the now and not above it. The future is sometimes frightening and I don’t want to face it but there is always a way. There is always a simple step. It’s not always the boastful, shiny, impressive way, but there is a solution.
  • I choose to glean the joys of yesterday and like seeds in the garden, I will sprinkle them with honor and watch them blossom.
  • I choose to honor myself, as I am, even all the jiggly parts.

Jiggly Juicy Parts- That Vital Spark

Don’t Let Go of My Hand

Hold my hand and take me away
Hold my hand and take me away (Photo credit: (davide))

From the depths of my heart. Truly.

Oh I’m hoping you’ll understand and not let go of my hand.  – In For the Kill, La Roux.

I love music. I have no talent whatsoever, but I can listen as well as the next person. The lyrics catch me completely off guard sometimes.

We are a species who love stories. Movies, books, plays. It doesn’t matter what form it is. We can relate. And once the story has wrapped itself around us, it can jolt us. Even linger in our minds, when another person could have said the same thing to us and we would have walked away wondering what they were talking about.

Sometimes when I’m in a conversation, I have to remind myself to stay quiet and listen to the other person. I really don’t want to cut in or stop them talking. I just want to relate. This song is one that caught me off guard. The lyrics, the voice, and the story. Isn’t this what we all want?

We want someone to listen and understand. And not let go of us. Hear me, they cry. Please stay with me. There was a suicide recently at a local school. It’s hard for us to understand how a teenager can have a troubled life. Like illness and disease though, emotional pain does not know age or wealth as a dividing line. It does not respect you just because you are a good person or a pretty person. Suicide doesn’t only come because someone has a difficult circumstance. Suicide is an out for pain also. And when you are in pain all you can think of is stopping it. It’s the irritating ticking noise inside someones head that never ends. They see no solution.

I don’t know the child’s story or the family’s. All I know is that I am sorry. So sorry for their loss. And I hope that there is someone nearby who will understand and not let go of their hand.