The fact that we are so connected today has benefits for sure, but there is also a potential for disastrous effects on how it makes susceptible people feel. So many people are suffering silently, and that needs to change.

While cleaning out my storage room this weekend I came across an old blue folder. I knew exactly what it was when I saw it.  Within that cheap, tattered folder is so much of my story. Inside of it were the inner ramblings of a fourteen to seventeen year old girl. I got a cup of coffee, went up to my room, and decided I would go back in time, so I started reading.

It was like I thought that I had the chalice so I could speak to anyone who would listen. Preach sister, preach, and they would all listen. UHM NO, they were not all listening because they never asked me to talk in the first place.

We need dialogue.  We need to stop faking it.  We need to get real with ourselves and with those in our lives.  I feel like I shout this from the rooftops but we truly need to love better.  Harder. More intentionally. Deeper. With purpose.

Everything else can be in place (except what gravity and age decides shouldn’t-HA) yet at times I can only let my mind focus on the situations that cause fear, angst, anxiety, exhaustion and maybe even anger, which is rare for me.  I may try to even hide them so that others can’t see that part of me. I’m sure I’m not alone in this. Do I really want people to see my ugly? It’s hard for the guarded me to admit this but I actually think that we should more often.

Someone asked me the other day, I think she had been married for 5 years, how do you do it? How have you stayed married that long? (BTW that made me feel REALLY old. The emphasis was on 'that long.')   She was clearly having some common marital issues. Although I felt for her, I laughed because the longer you’re married the more you realize it’s constant work, and we can ALL relate.  

I have a few honest answers but no magic potion.

We look at our reflection instead of our impact. Recognition and power become a drug and we forget about those that we leave behind. Pride controls us and we don’t repent or even own our mistakes. (WE ALL MAKE THEM.)

On any given day I may have clothes on my laundry room counter waiting for the fairy to fold, food in the fridge that probably needs to be thrown out, and floors that need to be washed- right after they just were.  My kids fight with me and amongst themselves. I fail more than I succeed.

The circumstances weren’t going to change, BUT either was my love for him and he needs to know that. My love isn't conditional. True love leans in, not out.  Even though I have the ultimate authority to make these decisions while he lives under my roof, that does not negate the raw emotions attached to his unmet expectations.

 I step in the proverbial “in it” on the regular.  So badly, in fact, that my husband has said on numerous occasions, to countless people, that he could have never have been president, even if he ever wanted to be, because I would never have made a good first lady.  I’m not offended.  He’s right.

My heart knows the path.  It remembers the peace that I feel when I’m there.  It recalls the memories that have been made in this place and the people that I’ve shared them with.  My olfactory system is lit on fire by the familiarity of the aromas that waft passed me….and in some deep place in my heart I’m home.

As the spigot would be turned on and the pressure would build up the hat would rise and spin around.  The water would spray out of the top of the hat like fireworks.  In our simple minds, it was magnificent.  

He spoiled me with attention (poor dudes who had to follow that).  He held my hand, but also knew when to let it go. In a crowded room his eyes could always make me feel at home.  Like most great loves, friendship should be the anchor, and we were buddies from the beginning.

Black Friday…. Small Business Saturday….Cyber Monday…. I get confused.  I love to personally pick out gifts for each specific person in my life.  Gifts that have meaning.  Gifts that I think will add value to them.  Gifts that will spoil them.  Things or memories that they, personally, will love.  I love to share my favorite things!  If I love something I tell everyone.  I cherish each gift I receive for the thought that is behind it.   I am excited to share some of my most fav's today!  Move over Oprah... I got this.  (Kidding, of course.)
 

In our world we are taught to dream BIG.  “Set GOALS.” “ YOU can do anything.”  I believe these things.  Nothing seems more exciting than to watch big things happen to great people, or even ourselves.  I, personally, achieve my goals, get there, and then I want more. MORE. MORE. MORE.  I strive for the more.  I keep working.  You keep working.  I’m going to get in trouble for this one but….what are we working for?

Life may be like a box of chocolates, like Forrest Gump said, but not knowing what I’m going to get with one chocolate, KNOWING, that ONE is a carmel, is a lot different than all of the chocolates being those nasty cherry covered things… and that’s about what it’s been.

If you had your reasons for divorce or not, or if you ever loved someone or shared a life with them, when that is over that hurt can make it hard to intermingle.  That’s plain human nature.  Likewise, if you are in that new love phase, and even if you recognize that there was an old life before you, when it’s all blended around it can feel messy and hurtful.  We can all relate to some part of that.  Both scenarios are real and raw.  It can be hard, maybe downright impossible, at times, depending on which side of the fence you’re on, to recognize the other sides feelings.  They are both very real and both need to be respected.

She was exotic and beautiful and she smiled at my self-proclaimed stupidly plain, and simple self.  From the very beginning you could tell we were sort of yin and yang.  She would enter a room (granted it was a dorm room) and everyone’s attention would be drawn to her.  She wasn’t demanding the attention, her very nature attracted it.  I, on the other other hand, would enter and sort of shrink down wherever I could (unless Michael Jackson, Man in the Mirror was on and then well my moves took over- but that’s a different story).  Even though our differences were apparent she was completely contagious and I wanted to be more like that.