A friend sent me this video she said she shared it with me about a year ago and I don’t remember watching it which makes me realize I wasn’t ready for it back when she sent it then. But when she resent it today and said you guys are part of my redwood forest and I sat and watched this video twice within the time span of a couple of hours, I was very ready for it this time. It couldn’t be more perfect timing. It's all about the fight lately with the shoulds and the must and I needed some practical ways to write it all down, process through and move forward without letting the fear, the shoulds, dictate what I know I need and want in the musts.It is all so relevant right now with myself and with Sam and I and our future.
But then when she gets to the little part where she talks about people asking the "well now what” and she said, “Call your mom. Or someone who knew you as a kid. So often our must is rooted in our childhood. It’s something we did very freely. We gave it away to everyone. We were putting on plays and running around in doodle bug farms and giving performances on pogo sticks. None of this was motivated by anyone but you. And if you go back to that place we will find clues and traces that will remind us what is seeded closest to our must."
And the faucet of my emotions turned on. The getting in touch with the child again...
This is currently what I am working on with my therapist. Last week we started dealing with the black holes of time in my memory where I don’t even remember years of my life. Working through the memories I do have and processing what was going on and what in those times I was feeling and why. It’s incredibly difficult and painful and the things that I have started to remember have terrified me of what else I will remember my brain has coped away that I am going to have to deal with. Until I process through and heal through my first connections, relationships, experiences, how I learned what I did and morphed from those things into who I became, I will not move forward and heal and grow in those things.
And now I have yet another reason for me to heal my childhood. I struggle with seeing the path in front of me. I struggle to see the direction and clarity in life, what I want, what I aspire to make of this life, because that little girl is not free. My must is blurry and begging and confused. That little girl has grown up in the confines and lies that she had to conform and change and she did that very well. The good inside this crazy vibrant amazing little girl that I know WAS there; I have to find her. I have to nurture her. I have to tell her she is good. I have to know her. I have to take the lies out of her head that were planted there and tell her no actually THIS is the truth….Who you are IS beautiful. It IS wonderful. You are a fabulous being. You are good. Your heart is not evil. Your strength is amazing. You are enough. Be you little girl. Be YOU! And I have to morph back into the little girl I was supposed to be and know that that was enough. If the little girl doesn’t heal the woman will never be all she was meant to be.
"Sleep doesn't help if it's your soul that is tired."
No matter how much sleep I get this week my body just keeps screaming for more. And I believe at this point it's merely responding to the weariness of a different kind of tired entirely. When it feels like it takes a weeks worth of willpower to be there emotionally and mentally for your kids to get them breakfast and off to school. To make yourself go on a run because it's the one healthy coping skill you have you can use. When you have to use that weeks worth of will power to force yourself to eat something. To stay away from the bedroom so you don't crash into bed again. To write emails to clients and to be excited about what deep down you are really passionate about but depression has for the time being stolen away from you. And when you can finally crash at night you wonder what you are going to do in the morning because you used up your already low tank into the negative over simple daily tasks and things that should be life giving. Why do I share these things? Share my darkness? Because I know it's okay not to be okay now. I know despite what I'm told or feel I am not alone. I know that while I'm afraid of the darkness I am not afraid to go into it and I know I will one day walk out the other side and be better from it. Because I am not wearing a mask and pretending life is amazing when it is not. Because I am not playing the games anymore I raised in and raised to play. Because I know vulnerability and human nakedness breeds connection and truth and unbreakable bonds with other raw and real souls.
"The middle is messy and dark but you have to go right through it. There is no other way to live. You must die a thousand deaths to live. I’m not afraid of the dark. I’m afraid of vulnerability. Of uncertainty of being emotionally exposed. I just know that if you are willing to go in there is beauty in it. And I know there are two choices. I can go in or I can stand on the outside of the dark my whole life and hustle and pretend for my worthiness. And standing on the outside in the dark I am not willing to do anymore." - Brene Brown
These past 3-4 weeks have been the most confusing, exhausting, overwhelming weeks. That feeling of how could things possibly get any harder and then they do. The battle I just went through has been a long time coming and has left me with so much going on inside I haven’t been able to process anything on my own. Nothing. It’s just a mass mess of painful and overwhelmingness. It has scared me. I’m finding myself questioning everything and everybody.
I don’t know how in the hell I am supposed to feel. What I am supposed to feel first. What am I supposed to process first. What do I dare touch first.
There’s anger at my father for his obvious unchanging sickness. I am angry at my mother for not ever taking a stand, for not showing she cared, for taking the abusers side, for helping the abuser, for playing it cold, for still playing games with me now. I am angry at all the people that filled his side of the court room. For the people who said the abuser was the victim in all this. That the abuser deserved mercy because "his family has suffered enough". What do they know! I am angry that not ONE member of my family stood up against him. That they sat on his side of the courtroom or didn’t come at all and left me to fight alone. I am angry that they say one thing and do another. I am angry at the games and manipulation in my family. I am angry at the triangulation between siblings. I am angry I am still the scapegoat. And how the hell am I supposed to even process this shit again? Like what the hell does that even mean at this point. How do I process things that feel like daggers in my soul. All these people that show validations and empathy for the person who destroyed my body and mind.
And yet in all this anger I’m relieved I got to see with my own eyes at court where people actually stood. Relieved that I had a DA that fought like hell for justice and the team of people some I had never met that saw through the bullshit of my family and their friends. Relieved I am able to have the strength to step away and out of my family’s circle as needed without feeling guilt anymore. Relieved I had the army there with me I did have by my side squeezing strength into my fingers and wrapping me in comfort when my heart was feeling like it was being crushed and knifed by a dozen knives.
And the most unexpected emotion of the day was humor. As soon as my father stood to say his few words before the judge I felt this laughter of disgust and disbelief yet mixed with “not really surprised” well up inside me. The same old bullshit, the same underlined anger, the same manipulation, the same fake emotions that I could now see through…it was still him. The same monster disguised. The same asshat who snuck into the dark at night. The same groomer. The same manipulator. The same pedaphile. The same man hiding behind false humility and lies and "Jesus Christ my Lord and Savior”. He had been caught, I spoke up when he thought I never would, he had lost his power, and his games to try to walk out of that room a free man were in strong play. And I watched my aunt hugging my mother as he talked. I watched my brother sitting with his wife's arm around his shoulder patting his back. I stared at the back of my uncle’s head wondering HOW?! I watched his friends sitting in their seats their heads hanging. I looked at the rows and rows of people and my heart felt pity. Relief. Disgust. Humor. Not just anger. I remember being in their lifes just 5 years ago and it makes my hairs stand on end. Looking in from the outside I wonder now, how in HELL I ever survived as long as I did, and played those games as long as I did.
And so how. How. How do I process the feelings of panic I felt. The feelings of vulnerability in front of a room of people who’s actions where showing they had no empathy or care for anyone but the abuser. How do I process feeling like I was sitting in a lions den sharing the most painful and vulnerable gruesome parts of myself with my father sitting with his back to me, his nose in the air, his lawyer sitting there as if waiting to try and pounce on me. My body telling me to run, and never stop. My voice feeling like a thousand bees stinging my throat. Stumbling over words and sentences of a stupid damn 3 page statement. Trying to explain what your heart, body and mind has been through with something so traumatic.
How do I process one of my father’s character witness coming over after he was sentenced and handed over to the sheriff’s department and graveling at me feet, apologizing and saying he didn’t agree with what his friend did…well buddy your words and actions sure don’t match there. Did he ACTUALLY expect me to talk to him? To shake his hand in the middle of my panic attack and high emotions and desires to literally crawl under the seat and curl up in a ball? Did my sister who snuck up behind me and grabbed me around my neck and whisper I’m sorry I love you after everyone left the room expect a response from me after sitting on his side of the courtroom in the shadows of the back corner?
How do I process people actually feel sorry for my parents? That they can empathize with their “suffering” in this mess? Their “suffering” that has been caused by THEIR choices and THEIR actions not inflicted upon them by someone. How do I process the fact that my father stated he thinks he is owed an apology? That I started this, I got him caught, he was found out and they think I am still to blame? How in hell were there people there from our old church sitting in silence and gloom in the back of the room. How the hell is this a game, a pick a side gamble, choice? Why are some so willing to hold their arms open and continue giving chances to people who have done nothing but give worthlessness and distrust and have played games.
How do I process that I have to accept being the outcast in my family. That putting energy into my family means pain on my part. How do I process when I think something is going well, my sisters are healing and then everything blows up in my face again and it feels like I lost everyone once again. How do I process the betrayal of having not a single one of your family with you in the courtroom, or willing to stand up for what is right; how do I process the incredibly unimaginably painful. Having to keep on facing being the family loner, the scapegoat, the one that doesn’t want to be in the unhealthy triangulation and game playing and manipulation.
I feel like I am standing on the edge of a black abyss of emotions with no way around it to move forward but to jump in and crash at the bottom and break open into a million pieces and then heal those pieces and put myself back together again and start climbing terrified up the other side of the abyss. And I’m avoiding it. I stand at the edge my obsessive counting keeping me from dealing with too much, my mask wearing for my kid’s sake on point, my raw and real hiding behind it trying to peak out every now and then. Knowing if I try to jump in all at once or alone I will have a mental breakdown. So I cope. I wait…for my therapy sessions.
And so...I feel like I am currently standing on the edge of a black abyss with no way around it and to move forward I must jump in and fall and fall and fall and fall and crash at the bottom and break open into a million pieces. And then I have to heal those pieces, and get help, and find support and put myself back together again, heal, recover and then start climbing up the other side of the terrifying, seemingly impossible jags and steepness to get back out of the abyss. And I’m currently avoiding it. I know to what depths and magnitude I face. I stand at the edge and let my mind race and my repetitive counting cope my brain, and fight all the symptoms of PTSD as best I can. I put on my mommy mask when I need too for my kid’s sake my raw and real hiding behind it trying to peak out every now and then. And all the while feeling if I try to jump alone I will have a mental breakdown. I won’t be able to handle the years and years of pain and trauma that will overtake me let alone all of this currently. I try to keep surviving. I remind myself that my monster is behind bars. I need to process that first. Somehow, I have to fight through all the faces that were in that courtroom and get to that truth. The one truth for sure I can stand firm in. He’s locked away. He’s gone. So I cope through as best I can and wait for my therapy sessions. For the slow slide down the abyss and then stopping to cling onto a rock until I can slide down some more to cling onto another rock. For me its baby steps and that’s okay. Because I know and I’m moving and I’m doing the most I can handle in this confusing shit hole of hell.
“Don’t Quit. You’re already in pain. You’re already hurt. Get a reward from it.”
I laced up the laces of my bright worn running shoes that had seen my pounding feet through hundreds of miles. I thought about how I hoped I would get new shoes for my birthday and if I didn't I opened a new tab in my brain (that was the last thing I needed was another open browser) to put in my budget to get me a new pair before my next half marathon. I sat on the concrete to stretch and continue to convince my mind I had to run. I had to stay on my training schedule true but that wasn’t the only reason. I needed my dose of medication for the day. I had put it off until it was now 4 pm and I had exactly one hour before my time would be taken up for the rest of the evening. My mind was trying to overpower the itch my body had to run. My mind was tired, whining at me. I had spent all morning hashing out the future on paper, pros and cons, looking up options for which direction I wanted to go on this fork in the road I have come too in life, and I had starting some online classes that had my brain swirling with thoughts, ideas and 'itches'. But my body was telling me to run out the emotions pent up in my shoulders and back. To run away the voices, the noise, the chaos, to focus and quiet my mind. To run out the demons and once again sort through the mess in my head and heart.
My feet pounded out the pavement to the blaring playlist in my earbuds, finding my rhythm and pace as I got further and further away from the comfort of my home I could hide in the shadows of if I wanted. I was running streets and through neighborhoods I usually don't run in and my eyes started noticing things. The dirty streets. The consistency of thrown out cigarette butts, too many to count. There were lost shoes and gloves, littered trash thrown thoughtlessly out of windows and even a flattened metal spoon. Empty beer cans mixed in with the leaves and grime and then the liquor bottles, empty glass bouncing off the afternoon sunrays.
Stories. Things that were once in peoples hands. Behind every cigarette butt something that spurred the need to cope, to deal with something. Pain. Stories. Behind the lost worn out shoe that someone once wore. Wonder what horrors and what joys they have walked and faced. If they are thriving or just breathing. If they are full or empty. The empty cans and bottles. Who’s lips the liquid fire passed between to drown out whatever it was inside them that was eating away, that hurt that was killing them, or the guilt, or the shame, or whatever it was they couldn’t face. What sadness or pain did they endure. What bad or good are they giving to this world. What was it, who was it, that made them the person they had become. What life have they known. Have they ever only known this small town of people living in boxes and molds. What are their dreams, their fears, their hopes, their nightmares. Stories. Beauty and hell.
I think everyone medicates. Everyone has some way of dealing with pain, sorrow, anger. Everyone. And those who go into the church building doors medicate as much as those who can’t even step foot inside the church doors. And there is no difference in the worshipping servant of religion and the worshipping servant of anything else. But it is easier for me to empathize with those who know they are hurting and in pain and don't hide their medication of choice than those who hide their medicating in the shadows even sometimes from themselves. Those who stay blinded. God however I have been able to make it to where I am today…I am thankful. Sometimes I wonder how. I do. I am thankful to have been split wide open and broken. To be going through the pain of psychological surgery. I can not even imagine being back in that horrifying place where I was so blinded and brainwashed I could never have seen the stories on the streets. Where I couldn’t even see my own stories. Where I couldn’t breath for myself or think for myself. Where I walked through the church doors nearly every day of my life for years and years and thought I was safe and better than and had been taught how to have appear at least to have it all together. That the evil that happened all around me in “god’s house” was okay, somehow, okay…I mean it must be, right? This stuff happened in other girls homes too right? My parents are my authority, my go between between God and myself so everything they did or said had to be right somehow. Because somehow we believed everyone there was better than the other humans in the world. That somehow we were different because "we had Jesus". When really everyone was just hiding their pain and ugly humanness behind religion and masks and false pretenses. That was what I knew.
So I…I run. I run until the pain, or lies, or stress and emotions of the day, of my life, of my stories has poured out of my body with the sweat. I run until I can no longer hear the voices of my mother telling me I am a bitch or a drama queen or a lier, or my father whispering in the dark, you are my special daughter and this is our secret I can't have with anyone else or God has put me here to help you grow up in "this way”. I run from the voices saying stop because you aren’t good enough. Give up on yourself you can’t do anything right. You are worthless. I run.
And I damn them to hell. I run for myself. To prove to myself. To fight for myself. To love myself.
Because my stories are mine to tell, to share or not to share, to be vulnerable with, to heal through. And I don’t want my stories to end with: she gave up. Because now, deep down under the shit and lies, I believe I am worth it. The opposite of what I was even taught, told and shown is that I am valuable. And that is something that I have learned on my own. From my pain and my stories. No one implanted that in my neurological pathways. That is something I have found on my own. I have taken back my own power.
And so...I run.
So I worked hard to get a handle on my emotional and mental health yesterday. By lunch I was feeling in a better mindset and had some things I had thought through that had just finally clicked; some ah ha moments. I felt hopefully. Ready to maybe try and stand up again from the last few weeks.
And then I come home from school and there was a bomb waiting for me to arrive and drop on my head. After the bomb dropped and a couple hours went by I felt proud. I had handled it somewhat calmly and cooly and was not wallowed in fear and panic and worry in my room biting my nails and looking for ways to busy myself to cope away reality. I stayed somewhat focused on continuing life through the rest of the evening and still be a mom for the kids and not let another unknown circumstance control my emotions and peace. It felt good. I felt proud. Then after the boys went to bed and the house had calmed down and I was starting to think about crawling in my bed, letting the comfort swallow me up and passing out for the next 9 hours we had another bomb drop and this one hurt more. My heart physically ached at this one. I felt frustrated and sad. Frustrated that every time I feel like I’m getting in a good place again immediately that is tested. No pause. No recovery. Immediately tested. Sad because I felt my hope being tested and this bomb poked at my loneliness I fight and the desperation I have to get out of Duncan. I immediately was fighting thoughts of feeling defeated. Feelings like I was sitting in a glass box watching someones life spin around me while they laughed and mocked me sitting like a shattered spectacle inside. And I felt tired again. Tired and sad. I couldn’t be angry, I couldn’t talk through anything, my brain kind of shut down. So I told myself gently, “Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities crept in; forget them as soon as you can. But tomorrow is a new day; you can try and begin in well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with then current shitty nonsense.” I crawled in between my sheets and giant fluffy blankets encapsulating me with warmth and hugs, plugged one ear with an earbud and zoned out to the noise and movement of a show on netflix, fighting the want to shut the whole world and everyone in it out, telling myself; It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. You are not alone. Change will continue to come and in all this shit there will be good change too. Just hang on for this crazy life ride. Circumstances will not steal your hope, Leslie. You will not let it. Look at the beauty beside you, the people next to you right now.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will keep fighting for, loving, nurturing myself. Tomorrow I will try again. I will keep trying.
I am practicing my emotional hygiene this morning. Psychologically I have dozens of cuts from the last few weeks and this last weekend and instead of taking a knife and cutting them deeper I am practicing stitching and bandaging them up. Instead of going boxing this morning, like I almost did, and working on my physical health some more and beating some shit and tears out, I took my laptop, some ted talks, hot coffee and a quiet corner at a coffee shop to switch, work on my psychological health and write.
The therapist reminded me yesterday of something I already knew but had let my mindset take over and slip me into a bad place instead. No one can put me in a awful place, in a negative mindset, in a box but myself. People can reject me, make me feel alone, say and do hurtful things but my mind is the one that chooses what to do with it. The thoughts and actions are implanted by others but I can either heal those wounds or cut them deeper. If someone walks away from me I can either cut myself down more, let the negative thoughts and reasonings as to why they would do that or I can reject the notion that because someone walks away from me I am not good enough, I did something wrong or I am a failure. If someone questions my authentic actions, words or love, I can let those thoughts and lies creep in I have been told that they are telling me I am "dramatic" or that I am a "manipulative selfish bitch" or I can take it as a sign I am on the right path to loving myself, being confident with my words and truth, and that I am on the right path to being vulnerable and letting my walls down. I am in charge of my own psychological health and well being. Just as equally as I am in charge of brushing my teeth, feeding my body and bathing.
I had been hurting all week the games and manipulation that had been played around me again, the place I felt I was being viewed in again. Being put in a fighting ring with someone again I wanted to stay distanced from without my consent. Being the bad one again, the scape goat like I used to always be in my family. Feeling the pain of people I truly wanted so badly to be there not being able to empathize or understanding. Feeling alone again. And alone is a dangerous place for me to go. Loneliness creates fear in me, a psychological wound in my mind that makes me less perceptive to truth and to my own power and instead feel like the people right beside me care less about me than they actually do. And I see the proof in that in this last week shit hit the fan with Sam and I. I have felt like he hasn’t understood me, hasn’t wanted to care or empathize, everything he has done or said has been a knife in my heart. There were misunderstandings flying left and right between us. We both were dealing with our own individual emmotional and mental pain and hurt and we were not dealing with that and letting that even more so greatly affect the connection between us as a couple. Words were flying and stabbing like knives into hearts. Yesterday we both felt physically sick. My mental health was affecting my physical health. I felt nauseous and achy. I felt physically exhausted like I had just ran for 5 hours straight. It took every ounce of my being to get up, get the kids taken care of and off to school, get dressed and get out of the house for my busy day. Sam had to call in to work and take a day because he was feeling the same way. You can not tell me that our psychological health should not be equal with our physical health. A huge misconception. A flat out lie to ourselves and others.
So today. Steps.
"Get out of bed. Don't lie there and think - thinking is the kiss of death for us in these moments - just move. Take a shower. Sing while you are in there. Make yourself sing. Sing stupid and laugh at yourself. Joy for its own sake - joy just for you, created by you - it's the best. Find yourself amusing. Put on some makeup and fix your hair. Wear something that makes you feel good, for yourself not for anyone else and if you don't have something like that go buy yourself something that will make you feel that way. Show yourself you love yourself no matter how hard that is. Get yourself a hood cup or coffee or tea and read a book without thinking about other things while you are reading. Get out of the house, if you have nowhere to go take a walk or sit at a coffee shop. Do not excuse yourself from a walk because it's too cold. Bundle up. The big endless sky and oxygen will help."
- excerpt from Carry On Warrior
And here is a Ted Talk from my morning that could be the best video you could watch all week: The Importance of Self-Care
"Why is it our physical health is so much more important to us than our psychological health. We sustain more psychological injuries than we do physical ones. Things like failure, or rejection or loneliness. If ignored they will get worse and they can impact our lives in dramatic ways. "Oh your feeling depressed just shake it off it's all in your head." Can you imagine saying that to someone with a broken leg. "Oh just walk it off it's all in your leg." It is time we close the gap in our physical and physiological health. It's time to make them more equal."
The last two months have been full of questions and hours of sitting in bed talking to myself, to the walls, to the ceiling, to Sam into the late night hours. Of a few more nights of restless sleep and confusion. The impossibleness of the unknowns and the anger that has slowly begun to creep back into my being and cripple my fight and joy over the last few weeks. It’s been almost a year and half now since Natalie and Jared came to live with us. We have been on this path with them because we have believed in it. Because we have had the energy and ability to be there. We believe in their healing. In having a safe place to be, to begin to fall apart and rebuild. The last two months have been break throughs for them in their healing. They have changed more in the last few weeks then they have the entire time they have been with us. Their walls are down and they have reached an entirely other layer of healing and knowing themselves. They are in a freer place, being more like teenagers than afraid little kids. They are questioning and searching and responding to life more. They are learning they feel and that is a good thing but now what do they do with what they feel. Their triggers are flaring up more and their emotions and attitudes are unmasked. It is a good thing that has happened that makes my heart soar with relief and hope. But it has made me realize that they are now in a place where I am not sure I can be and give what they need now. I have found myself starting to grind down into the ground and beginning to change as a person in ways I do not want to change and that are not healthy for me. I have begun to notice Sam and I’s relationship and the way we live changing in ways I am not okay with. We have become more exhausted of late and realizing how much more emotional and mental energy we have begun to put towards Natalie and Jared and less towards the things we were before. The balance of life that we want has gotten way of of whack.
So here we sit these up in to the late night hours these nights refocusing. Taking off any burdens of responsibility or guilt and asking ourselves the tough questions. Looking at our future again and what we want, how we want it, and what our expectations are. Refocusing on goals and planning instead of flying by the seat of our pants according to what happens and needs to happen with Natalie and Jared. Repeating to ourselves what the therapist keeps telling us. We have done what we have been capable of doing. And that is enough. In a few years from now we have had to make sure we don’t look back in anger from here on out now. For the last year and a half we have carried the baton of love, safety and acceptance and been able to do so with strength and the desire to do so. Now that they might be needing more than we want to give someone else with the want and heart for this next chapter of their lives may need to step in and take that baton over.
We do not know what this next new year holds. There are going to be doors coming up that will finally be closing that will be very good and very healing. But I know those doors closing are going to bring me to new rooms of healing that I have not faced or been able to face yet. Our desire to move is growing increasingly and overwhelmingly strong and I know will grow even more stronger after some doors coming up do close. And our dreams and goals in life we have and want for us as a family and as individuals is becoming more undeniable. Sam and I were looking back over this last year last night and we were wide eyed at all that has happened, all the change we have gone through once again, and all we have done in just a year. Every year the last 4 years has seemed to increasingly somehow outdo the year before.
Yup, life doesn’t look like a perfect gingerbread village all decked out in vibrancy and yumminess it looks like a beautiful hellish mess. You build, you make, you live, you decorate; some falls off, some breaks, some gets eaten up, some gets destroyed. But we have learned we wouldn’t want it any other way. Out of the dirt grows every beautiful thing. We are so much more incredibly stronger people from this last year and half. Sam and I have come to know ourselves deeper, more of who we are as individuals, more of what we want out of life, family, marriage and most definitely how to deal with people better and other's personal trauma.
I’ve been listening to this song on repeat a lot lately. I have declared it my song for this next new year. To sum up the questioning of this recent new time...
My head, my head is full of things that I should've done
My heart, my heart is heavy, and it sinks like a stone
She said, "Is this the life you've been dreaming of
Spending half the day away from the things you love?
It's not too late to do something new."
She said, "It's hard enough trying to live your life.
But not following your dreams made you dead inside.
If you don't love what you do."
It's not right, it's not right for you
If you even have to think about it
It's not right, it's not right for you
If you really have to think about it
You got one life to love what you do
My hands, my hands are scarred by things I shouldn't have done
My feet, my feet are weary from all the miles that I've run
She said, "Open your mind, take a look within.
Are you happy with the world that you're living in?
If not, you gotta change what you do."
She said, "And lately I don't see you smiling lot.
Are you happy here with me and the things we've got?
If you can't say that it's true."
It's not right, it's not right for you
If you even have to think about it
It's not right, it's not right for you
If you really have to think about it
You got one life to love what you do
If we don't do something now then we'll never know
If we stay here too long then we'll, we'll never grow old
So, before it's too late and it's killing you, yeah
We've only one life to live. So love what you do
It's not right, it's not right for you
If you even have to think about it
It's not right, it's not right for you
If you really have to think about it
You got one life to love what you do
In the end, in the end
Better hold 'cause you're take it all in
In the end, in the end
You got one life to love what you do
In the end, in the end
Better hold 'cause you're take it all in
In the end, in the end
You got one life to love what you do
Call us bitter, resentful, loud, brash, troublesome, wounded, grieved, or broken.
Call us foolish for using social media as a platform for our voices to be heard.
Call us attention whores with daddy issues, chained to our past, unwilling to heal because our wounds are familiar.
Call us liars, truth-benders, slanderers, gossipers, dissenters.
Call us speed bumps, run over us and act as though you didn't notice the jostling. Readjust yourself in your seat and continue on your way. Ignore the cries. A hit and run.
Not this time. We will not accept radio silence.
Call us broken records. We're not done."
“Justice will not be served until those who are unaffected are as outraged as those who are.” - Benjamin Franklin
"People don’t take trips, trips take people.” - John Steinbeck
I was leaving huge chunks of my heart in Oregon as I headed off south towards California. The last part of my trip, the place I was most excited to explore. Oregon was the unexpected love on my trip. California was the expected love. I crossed the state border laughing at myself because I was so excited to be there my heart was pounding. I took every path less traveled I could find to get to my end destinations. I took the coastal drive towards San Fran. stopping though redwood national forest to take short hikes through creepy quiet forests some heavy with moss and seeming to hold secrets and stories. Awaiting exploration and thoughts and alone time with humans. I drove through a tree, because I’ve always wanted to do that one, and snuck closer inland to drive the rolling hills of wine country breathtaking with symmetrical lines of vineyards. I’ve never seen anything like it. And when I wasn’t close enough to the ocean on the coastal drive I explored to find roads that would take me closer. Ended up at one point on a gravel road that most definitely I probably wasn’t supposed to be driving on. But I drove on anyway because isn’t that what tourist that aren’t always up for doing the touristy things are supposed to do? I explored lighthouses and climbed what felt like endless hills. And then I headed towards the city. The city I have dreamed of stepping into for a very long long time.
"Do something new every day you've never done before. Be it little or be it big!"
"Blessed are the cracked for they shall let in the light." - Groucho Marx
I took my time crossing into the city. Stoping to hike up to admire the golden gate bridge and the city views before stepping into the very view itself. And I crossed the bridge with windows down, smile stretched from ear to ear, willing everyone to just ignore the crazy lady in the vehicle grinning at everything and everyone and going with the flow of everyone in order to soak up her surroundings.
"Healers are spiritual warriors who have found the courage to defeat the darkness of their souls. Awakening and arising from the depths of they deepest dears, like a Phoenix rising from the ashes. Reborn with a wisdom and strength that creates a light that shines bright enough to help, encourage and inspire others out of their own darkness."
"You can't stay in your corner of the forest and wait for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes."
First order of business, find my hotel, that may or may not have taken me a little while. Second, walk. From ports, to piers, to markets, to trying new foods on the ocean front, to climbing ridiculous hills, to the culture saturated, unusual streets of china town, accidentally finding myself on a nude beach in exploration for the perfect photo spot (still laughing), to my first ever ferry ride. Ah the ferry ride. Screw the signs warning to stay seated. That was not going to happen especially on a ferry ride where a couple and I had the entire boat across to ourselves. Falling in the ocean waves would just not have been that bad of an experience in my book. So leaning over the sides of the boat and being sprayed by the salt water like a heavy rain, I grinned my way across on the 25 minute ride. And stayed all of but 15 minutes on land and decided to just hop back on and go right back across! Did what I wanted, nobody to worry about but myself. If I wanted to just ride the ferry for almost a hour that was what I was going to do! Go figure it was was one of my highlights. Still feels like it was just yesterday.
"It was her chaos that made her beautiful."
"Whatever makes you weird is usually your greatest asset."
"I'm not sure what I'll do - but I want to go places and see people. I want my mind to grow. I want to live where things happen on a big scale."
"I just want to go on more adventures. Be around good energy. Connect with people. Learn new things. Grow."
"I can call myself a fool for falling into your lies, or a warrior for fighting and finding my truth."
2 days and off again down the coast towards LA! Lots of beach stops, boardwalk walks, hiking around big sur, exploring, car camping with the windows cracked falling asleep for some of the most stupid peaceful sleep listening to the waves crashing in on the shoreline waking up for morning beach runs and tears to then rinse it all away with the sandy feet into the sea. What I wouldn’t give to start every morning of my life that way. I stayed 4 days in the LA area. Too much to see and explore and do. Never could possibly be enough time for it all. And first bucket list checkmark was dance moves crossing a crosswalk in the middle of Beverly Hills. I had people ignore me, stare, some smile and laugh. I didn’t give a damn. I have always wanted to dance across a busy crosswalk. The palm trees swaying overhead, the sun shining. There were groups doing yoga in the park, people playing with their dogs, others jogging and the atmosphere of the Saturday morning was chill and fresh and glorious. It filled me up. I don’t know if I went to the wrong areas of LA or if I was just not in tune to finding negative. Because all the things I had had people tell me about “the horrors of LA" and the "horrors of California” I just didn’t see it. The traffic was not as bad as I expected. The people were not as rude. The hustle and bustle of the areas didn’t terrorize me. The only area I went to that was not a favorite of mine at all was Venice Beach and boardwalk. I walked around for a hour and was so beyond done with it by the end of that hour. I could have skipped that afternoon there and not have anything at all unpleasant to say about my stay in LA. It definitely is a city to visit and vacation too and not for me to live. And for that I had a blast. Explored around the Hollywood sign. Because of course you have to visit. My hotel for one night was right around the corner from the walk of fame and I spent a whole day there walking through the shops and stores and people watching. Oh yes you know I was people watching. Experiencing. Spent an evening on the Santa Monica pier trying new foods like the “japadog". (As long as you didn’t sniff the seaweed, eat it by itself and ignored how it got stuck in your teeth it wasn’t all that bad!) Listing to live bands and watching the dancing observers clearly just enjoying life and not caring how they came across, looked to others or were observed as.
"I dare you to love. I dare you to cry. I dare you to run. I dare you to try. I dare you to fall. And lay on the ground. I dare you to feel. I dare you to be here now. I dare you." - Dare by Hardwell
"Fear does not stop death. It stops life."
And then Santa Barbara. Oh Santa Barbara. That would be where I would want to live if ever I was to live in California like dreamed of one day far away. I loved it there. Absolutly loved everything about it. It was busy but yet it was laid back. Everyone I ran into that lived there was friendly as heck. You could ride your bike from downtown to the beach to neighborhoods. The beaches were beautiful and clean. Every morning I was there they were alive with joggers and bicyclers. It felt right. Everything about it felt right. The shops and stores were unique. The open aired grocery store stole my heart. The restaurants were amazing, beautiful…rich in culture. I went to one restaurant and sat in a little corner table all alone for several hours, sipping wine, under twinkling lights and dark skies and palm trees, listening to live music and not giving a rats ass I was alone. It was just…simply...perfect. And I got to spend two days here with my sister and brother-in-law documenting every moment of their courthouse elopement and a day of fun with them. It couldn’t have been more perfect and the best kind of way to end my California trip. The place, the people; I felt alive.
"Are you waiting on a lightening strike? Are you waiting for the perfect night? Are you waiting till the time is right? What are you waiting for? Don't you want to learn to deal with fear? Don't you want to take the wheel and steer? Don't you wait another minute here. What are you waiting for? You gotta go and reach for the top. Believe in every dream you've got. You're online living once, so tell me what are you waiting for? You know you gotta give it all you've got. And don't you be afraid if you fall. You're only living once so tell me what are you waiting for? Are you waiting for the right excuse? Are you waiting for a sign to choose? While you're waiting it's the time you loose. What are you waiting for? Don't you wanna spread your wings and fly? Don't you really wanna live your life? Don't you wanna love before you die? What are you waiting for?" - Nickleback
And I took FULL advantage of my last afternoon-night there alone on the perfect gorgeous beach. Soaking in the warm sun, listening, staring off in the horizon of sea and boats and storm clouds far off and away. Forever taking it all into my memory before beginning my journey back to the place I call my home. The place where my 5 people are and the roof over our heads keeps us living and well. Comfortable and plenty. But yet not home to us.
"I love myself. the quietest, simplest, most powerful revaluation ever."
I still had things to look forward to on the drug out 5 day trip home. But my heart just wanted to stay by the sea. In many ways literally I left in body but not in spirit.
There was an INCREDIBLE night of staying in Las Vegas. It far surpassed my expectations. I stayed right on the strip so I literally was able to walk everywhere and I had a blast. Sat next to another single gal at Cirque Du Soleil, awed over the sights and glamour of nighttime on the strip and the buzz and lights and fabulousness. I will be coming again if just to go to one of Chef Ramsey restaurant's. A MUST happen.
And then there was meeting this incurable lady and her family and falling in love with them and making a soul mate for life. We meet through instagram and So Worth Loving and in the gorgeous desert heats of Arizona I made a lasting friend I will never be able to forget. It’s amazing the wonderful souls that live in this world you can connect to if you open yourself up to it! This beauty and her husband are the types of people and relationships Sam and I crave to have in our life. Open minded, fighting for their own truth and health, questioning, reaching, growing, living, raising their kids to know boundaries and explore and listening to their hearts. I left them so filled up and so wishing we lived closer and planing in my head when Sam and I could go back to do a double date or couples weekend with them.
My heart was so conflicted as I headed off to finish out the last leg of my journey straight back to home. My heart longed to see the ones I loves but it also longed to get back pack everything and be out of Oklahoma for good. Kick up the dust and sail away. Find our “home”. Live. Explore. Thrive with other people. Open mindedness. Opportunities. Community. I’ll not give up on THAT becoming our reality especially after the incredible few weeks I had, all the incredible people I got to adventure with and get to know and was encouraged by and all the adventuring and endless photography oppurtunies that felt right there at your fingertips waiting for you. I came home filled up for the first time in a long time and held onto the hope it would get me through the next chapter of life and not drain our after a couple weeks back in Duncan. Was ready to be back with my man, and fight onward, strive onward, reach forward together. - The more alive and free I become and the more I open myself up to grow, learn, and love the more lifeless the place we live feels.
And to one thing I realized more than EVER from this trip. I REALLY believe you should experience things for yourself and not simple just go off other people’s experiences. If you just read all about my 3 weeks of traveling…you know what, screw my opinion about all of it. It was MY experience. It was wonderful. It was hard. It was emotional. It was healing. It was amazing. But it was not your own experience. Let it make you want more. Let it make you want to taste and grow for yourself. Go and see for yourself. Open your mind to this huge amazing world and let people, and other culture, other places, other ideals, into it. Go outside of your comfort zones and get out of your ruts. Stop telling me that you can’t believe I did a 3 week road trip by myself across the country and how you could never do that, because yes, you could. You can.
“Stuff your eyes with wonder, live as if you’d drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It’s more fantastic than any dream made of paid for in factories.” -Ray Bradbury
“To travel is to discover that everyone is wrong about other places.” -Aldous Huxley
“Not all those who wander are lost.”
Upon wandering you might just find the deepest truest most alive part of yourself. You might just discover the you you have hidden away that is the realest, most beautiful part of who you are or were made to be.
