A Work in Progress

Some of us are books with a thousand chapters.  Love stories, adventures, and tragedies -- delicately interwoven.  We live our lives engrossed in the current scene.  If we're lucky, plenty of pages still await.

Who will your character become?  You are the protagonist.  Choose to be the hero of your own story.  Each decision will add depth to your epic tale.  Blind the villains with your inner light.  Do not allow them to cast shadows on the path ahead.

Where will the narrative take you?  Are you happy with this destination?  Perhaps it's time to stop and rest.  Reflect, just for a little while.  It's okay if certain ideas aren't ready to connect.  There's no need to worry whether or not it all makes sense.

Complexities and contradictions prove that you've led a life worth living.  Document every honest emotion.  Be thankful for plot twists and unforeseen changes.  Your story is more than a mere tabloid headline or one-hit wonder.  It's an authentic read for those who want to experience something real.

Listen to your audience as you share these personal anecdotes.  They will see parts of you that you've never observed.  Allow what you've learned to influence new words, new lines.  Keep writing.  Keep creating.  This novel, this life, is a work in progress.

Finding the Balance

Peace does not come by force.  It is the result of communication, compassion, and the desire to understand all sides of the story.  The same is true for your own story, and finding the peace within.  You must talk to the demons.  Listen patiently, and take time to reflect.  Why are they here?  Why is this happening?

Life is dynamic.  It's meant to be this way.  Every emotion serves its unique purpose.  The highs and lows add depth to the plain of your existence.

At some point you and your demons will come to an agreement.  Sign that treaty and move on.  The best is yet to come.

Sadness

Empathy is a bitch sometimes.  In any given moment, I generally have an all-too-clear sense of how others are feeling.  Problems start to arise when I begin taking on emotions from vicious, vindictive people who find entertainment in causing pain.  It would make sense to simply avoid these assholes, but what happens when you're related to them?

I'm better off hoping for some sort of extraterrestrial heritage.  It seems much more likely than accepting my life for what it is.  Or, what it has been.  Because I'm finally learning how to take ownership of my present life.  And certain people shouldn't be allowed any part of what is mine.

I will save my sadness for those who deserve to receive its purity and love.  I will learn how to calm my emotional response after being attacked.  I'll strengthen my instincts for self-preservation.

Or maybe I'll just cut myself free.  I don't belong in their world.  I like mine better anyhow.

Happiness

Can happiness be taught?  Is it possible to permanently influence a person's outlook on life?

If I look at my own life -- my childhood, my choices, events that have changed my path -- what have I learned about happiness?

My childhood was difficult.  It still is.  I'm 33 -- yet I remain a child in many ways.  I feel (and have always felt) unloved by my family.  I'm glad I've come to accept this feeling, but I wish I could overpower it.  I'd prefer to view the idea with pure logic, rather than allow it to fuck with my emotions.  Would that help increase my happiness?  If I could let go of unrealistic disappointment?

Can I choose to be happy?  They say you can, but am I one of the exceptions?  Have I already screwed up too many times?  I don't think I have.  There's still hope for me, even if redemption is decades away.

And then there's guilt.  Yes, guilt.  Because I should be happy.  Because I do have a good life.  My son is the love of my life.  His dad is my best friend.  We're not together (in a romantic sense), but hey -- you can't have everything.  What I do have is wonderful.  A few of my friends continue to be present in my life.  They seem to recognize something worthwhile in me.  I am grateful for them, and Ryan, and, of course, Valen.

I was given the gift of the most precious, perfect little boy.  Valen is the definition of happiness.  I could learn everything I need to know from him.  I should quit this tedious self-analysis and start paying more attention to the Master of Joy.  My son was put on this planet to educate everyone he meets about the true meaning of life.  (And he's doing a kick-ass job so far!)

What does this mean for me?  What can I do to help others find happiness?  For starters, I suppose I should secure a better grasp on my own well-being.  I'm getting there.  Writing is helping me understand my feelings.  As soon as I have some sort of happiness epiphany, I'll be sure to let everyone know!

Public Notebook

I know these blogs will grow into something more.  For now they're enough to keep my mind in writing mode.  Good practice, short and simple.  And I love the feedback from my friends!  Each new idea changes the path of my thoughts.  I'm lead somewhere better.  Somewhere more interesting.

Tomorrow I'm going to write about happiness.  Eva got me wondering, can you teach happiness?  She said we can give people the tools, but happiness is a choice.

I need to catch up on sleep, and then tomorrow I'll see if my brain will cooperate!

Something in Writing

I've made an attempt to document a few dreams and desires.  I'm not fully satisfied with the result, but I'm glad I have something in writing.  In fact, I've come up with dozens of blog ideas in the past few days.  Eventually I might even get some written ahead of time.  That's the plan.

I want to reflect on the process so far.  I guess it's going well, but I know I need a better finished product.  I haven't found the time to actually finish anything yet.  I need a schedule.  A routine.  Need to work on that...

This is a reminder to myself.

My Ideal Life (Part 3)

It's funny.  The most important part of My Ideal Life interrupted Part 2 yesterday.
Here's what happened:

The school bus arrived.  Valen stopped at the top of the stairs before getting off the bus.  He pulled up his pant leg and started rubbing a small piece of foam down his left shin.  He said, "I clean it.  I need soap and water."  The bus driver laughed, we said goodbye, and Valen and I crossed the street.

Mommy:  "Is that a treasure?"
Valen:  "Yeah.  It on the chair."
Mommy:  "Is it part of the bus seat?"
Valen:  "Yeah.  It come out.  I need soap and water to clean."
Mommy:  "Okay.  You can play with some water in the kitchen."

I gave him a cup of water and a towel on the floor.  He used the "sponge" to clean toy cars and make a boat for his toy spider.  Valen chatted about how the spider drove a police car, and he narrated several sink and float experiments.  I played with him for a while, and then tried to get back to writing my blog.

Eventually Valen found his car that changes color in hot and cold water.  So of course he needed a second container (of hot water), and ice cubes for the cold water.  I wrote a few sentences while this entertained him, but in my distraction his game became more intense.  Water everywhere!  I asked Valen to please clean up his mess with the towel, but he said, "It's okay.  Daddy's boots go in water."  (Ryan recently bought new work boots, and Valen is fascinated by the fact that they're waterproof).  I reminded him that his socks and my slippers are not waterproof.  After much discussion, Valen decided that the floor didn't need to be wet.  He cleaned up some of the water, I saved my blog, and I helped him finish the job.

And then...  On to the next Valen adventure!

The best part of My Ideal Life is what I have, here and now.  Being a mom is infinitely more awesome than I could ever imagine.  My son is the most joyful, charismatic, inquisitive, imaginative, sweet, loving, and kind little boy.  It is an honor to be part of his life.  There will be many more stories to come.

But first, pictures from this morning:

My Ideal Life (Part 2)

If I could live anywhere, I know I'd choose Sedona, Arizona (again).  Somewhere secluded and quiet, where I could watch my quails every morning.  I miss my quails.

I'd hike deep into the canyons and leave every problem in the world behind.  Trust me.  It works.  It's magical.  It feels strange being this far away from the magic.

The stars would keep me company at night.  Open skies are honest.  Safe.  I feel secure, knowing where I am in the universe.

My house would be small, with clean white walls and purposeful hints of color.  Worn wooden flooring and simple architectural details.  Minimal accessories to add character.  I'd change them often to keep things interesting.

I would grow flower gardens, vegetable gardens, herbs and houseplants.  The hummingbirds would never leave.  I'd have fruit trees, too.  (Okay, maybe now I'm getting a little greedy!  But this is my fantasy, right?)

Well, that's good for now.  To be continued...

My Ideal Life (Part 1)

I'm just getting started.  I need to write.  I need practice.  These blogs have been quick, mostly unedited, just to get them out there.

It could be months before I find my focus.  I want to see what's really inside of me before I start organizing thoughts and ideas.

I want to help people.  I'm interested in health and nutrition, with a side of art/beauty.  I'd like to make the concept of healthy living prettier.  Not stressful.  No yelling, no bootcamp, none of that crap.  Feeling at peace with your own body is beautiful.  Learning how to connect with your body.  How to heal.  Strengthen.  I could see myself creating a system that makes this easier for others.

I'd like to develop this idea.  I'd like to edit and rework some of my earlier blogs.  I'm confident that I'll figure out what I want to say.

I'm going to take a photography class this year.  (First we have to figure out where we'll be living, and then I can sign up for a class).  I'll bring my camera on hikes.  Taking pictures outside is easy.  I wish it was warm enough to go outside today.  It's so cold that they cancelled school!  (And no snow!  We thought we'd have an inch of snow on Monday, but nope.  Just subzero wind chills).

I'd love to make a living writing, taking pictures, and helping people live healthy, happy lives.  I'm realistic about the "happy" part, though.  I know I can't teach people how to be happy.  I'm not sure if I can even teach myself, but I am trying.  It's scary -- wondering if I can ever find a career doing what I love.

I might be happy as a teacher if I was able to find a school that supports my values.  But I haven't had much luck in my search.  And I'm worried that my personality isn't a good match with that career.  I am able to manage a classroom and supervise assistants, but the noise and chaos does tend to overwhelm me.  I should definitely read The Highly Sensitive Person.

I'm sure I can find a way to be true to myself while making a living.  I hope these blogs help me discover a suitable path.

The Desert Never Dies

I'm an Arizona girl at heart.  I moved to Sedona in 2004, a month before my 24th birthday.  I left, for the first time, less than 2 years later.  Back again within 15 months, and I would have stayed, but I needed better doctors during my pregnancy in 2007.  Best decision ever!  Valen was born healthy and strong in 2008, and we returned to AZ when he was 4 months old.  Valen's dad and I had a lot of growing up to do.  We chose to move several more times, trying to figure out this thing called "Life."

It's as if Arizona didn't want us.  Jobs sucked.  We tried to find something better.  Failed again, tried again.  Finally figured out a career for Ryan.  Found him a good job in North Carolina.  But we don't feel at home here.  Sedona is the only place we've ever called home.  But she may never want us back.

For now, we wait.  We're getting better at this whole "grown up" thing.  Our kid is awesome.  At least we've done that part right.  But we'd love to show him who we really could be, in a place that feels permanent.

Arizona winters are simply perfect.  Incredible weather for hiking.  A little snow up North.  A lot of sun in Phoenix.  Evergreen trees and shrubs.  Rocks and rivers.  Bright red soil, clear blue skies.  Quail, javelina, deer, lizards.  STARS!  Almost every night.  And the storms are better, too.  Summer monsoons.  Rainbows.  Watching the weather change 3 towns over.

I hope we find a way to move back there this year.  And if we do, I hope she lets us stay this time.

Waiting for the Green

Snow is in the forecast again.  Brief, yet satisfying hints of a proper Winter.  Enough to brighten a day while I wait for Spring.

Nature rests patiently.  Her vibrant greens will return in time.  For now, she provides a muted background for cold weather activity.  Birds and squirrels excitedly search for food outside my window.  I follow the path of a bunny's journey, mapped by footprints in the snow.

I'm learning to accept what is given by each present moment.  Important lessons are becoming more clear.  I feel connected.  Grounded.  Safe.  I'm content in waiting for what's to come.

Contrast

Yesterday they gave me light.

Reflected and intensified by just enough snow.

A clear sky, in contrast with cold, dark branches.

No longer dead on dead, I welcomed this gift.

Beauty Between the Lines

Remain in the present.  Be still.  Awaken your senses and fully experience the world around you.

Yes, it's good advice.  But isn't it also a little overwhelming?

Maybe moderation is key.  Halfway between zen and reality?

I do enjoy drifting in and out of those peaceful moments.  I love observing my son's joy and curiosity.  I live for good hikes, nature, sunshine.  The pretty things, art, design.

Then sometimes it's as if I fail to recognize these wonderful things.  Too many cloudy days, and I feel ruined.

Give me back my sun, my soil, some water -- river or ocean -- and I'm me again.

My hope is to stay strong, through any kind of weather.  I can always find the light, even in the distance.  I just need to slow down, breathe, and search again.

The Process is Enough

Over the years I've made several attempts at writing.  But then I'd get delete happy and throw away almost everything.  I've saved a few paragraphs on my computer, and there's a small notebook buried in one of my boxes of junk.  Just need to find it.

Maybe my words will make more sense in a month or so.  What if I take the best of what I've written and combine several blogs into something more coherent...

I'm a recovering perfectionist.  Scared and resistant to actually putting myself out there.  I haven't really let many people "in."  I suppose that's what I'm trying to change this year.

I need connections.  I want to feel loved.  I'm so fucking lonely and...  Trapped?  Not sure if I feel trapped, or...  Lost.

And the perfectionism just loves to creep in.  I'm not including a photo with today's blog, because I didn't bring my camera to the park yesterday.  I set up several Intrinsic Perspective profiles online, went for a walk, and exercised again when I got home.  But I wasn't in the mood for photography.

I want it all -- a healthy life, connections, creativity.  I'm off to a good start, and I'll try to ignore the whisper of "not good enough."

Intrinsic Perspective

Random resolutions and goals are scattered between my thoughts.  I'm not sure where to focus, but writing will help me find clarity.  I'll explore my views on relationships, society, culture, beauty, and my place in the world.

Right now I'm more interested in the process of writing.  As I capture the essence of what's on my mind, I'll create pictures of unique moments in time.  My vantage point will shift and change, and this blog will serve as a reminder of each experience.

I will find my inner light, reflect and strengthen it.  Scattered or focused, my light is pure and beautiful.