Growth ans Fireflies
My sister is in the process of moving, most likely a plane ride away. Over the past two years, we’ve endlessly talked about her plans while I was processing my own.
A lot of significant changes were on the table. Relationship status, home sales, employment, and aging into a new decade.
Along the way, there were ups and downs, and all around with it, but in the end, everything fell into place as intended.
Now that we’re in the final stretch, the reality of getting on a plane to visit is sinking in on my end.
At 15 months apart, we were raised like twins dressing alike and doing everything together until our teenage years when we had different circles. As we grew into ourselves, we were back together again, having our children together and, most recently, becoming grandmothers.
We’ve been so busy cheering each other on that I haven’t thought about the enormity of this potential distance apart. Yes, I’m happy, proud, and excited about her future ventures, but suddenly I feel nostalgic about what was.
These feelings showed up in my dream last night. I dreamt I was approached by someone requesting I write a passage for their book. It was based on a missing woman, and I was to write it as if I knew the character when we were children. This is how it went.
We were two little girls with big imaginations playing in the basement of our rowhome. We always had each other, never needing outside playmates. As the younger of the duo, I would pretend to be a mother of 4 at the tender age of 9, providing our dolls with the nurturing they deserved. At the same time, my sister, who loved school, bypassed the teacher and went directly to playing a principal, making policy changes, and firing the Barbie and Dawn doll staff members.
On hot Summer nights, fresh from the bath and dressed in matching babydoll pajamas, we would grab our Maxwell House coffee cans with holes punched in the lids to catch fireflies in our yard. We went as far as adding grass to eat while they were being held captive, then, after counting our inventory, we let them go before heading to bed.
I woke up with mixed emotions as I wrote everything down not to forget a signal detail. It shook me on some level. The passages were vivid, and the memories were something I hadn’t thought about in decades. Why now?
Laying in bed, eyes wide open, I thought about those two little girls in the basement. Those roles now look more like survivor skills. Me providing the nurturing, I hungered while my sister did her best to gain control that was nowhere to be found in our house, both happening as we were still playful little girls catching fireflies.
Like us, our parents did the best they could with the knowledge they had at the time. I’m grateful for the consciousness to recognize this for what it is without casting blame on myself or my parents.
Now, off to work where things won’t be so deep ❤
Enjoy the Ride!
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Weapons Of Mass Destruction Have A Face
Nothing better to push me to write than a big ole “Happy Anniversary” from WordPress. Yep, it appears that I entered the Blogosphere 4 years ago today. Time flies when you’re having fun.
In the spirit of writing, today I would like to touch on the power of words.
Remember this old saying: “Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” Yea, it’s the biggest piece of BS ever written.
Words are capable of growing, changing and spreading. They have even been known to influencing our world, for good or evil; and they have the power to hurt us directly or indirectly through others. Today more than ever.
I never thought about a word being “alive” but when I think of words spoken through history, written down and passed through generations, they seem to resurrect when read or spoken today.
For instance, when I listen to the powerful speeches of John F. Kennedy and Martin Luther
King, Jr. I can feel their words reaching out and raising me to my feet some 50 years later. That folks is how it’s done.
The words of these men were delivered with such strength and passion you could practically feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. Today it’s more of a shove.
“Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country” ~ John F. Kennedy
Now, let’s fast forward to today…..
WTF
We are living in a time were our words, whether truthful or lies, courageous or weak, kind or hateful, have the ability to be heard, in some cases by the world, within seconds of leaving our minds via our mouths, phones and computers. We have the POWER!
Instead, we allow the Media to abuse their responsibility by silencing the good and sensationalizing the FUCKERY.
“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” Martin Luther King, Jr.
On the heels of the Republican “Debate”, I have been struck by a revelation regarding the power of words and the authority they can have over our lives. As a firm believer in our First Amendment, Freedom of Speech, I am stunned at the recent abuse of its power. No doubt good ole #1 crumbled itself up last night and headed for the nearest incinerator before the first commercial break.
Why have we allowed this to continue beyond the F I R S T hateful message?
Why have we allowed O N E person to shine a spotlight on the worst of us?
Why have we allowed the media to continue to sensationalize this mess?
Why the FUCK aren’t we in the streets stopping it?
The answer to all of these questions is Complacency: a feeling of being satisfied with how things are and not wanting to try to make them better.
Although I don’t believe we don’t want things to be different, I do believe we have become a society of dependent thinkers. A group of people who want someone else to fix things for us and a society that frowns upon people who take it to the streets to protest injustices. Sheeple
In the end, we have no one to blame but ourselves. When we get the urge to point fingers, we better head to the nearest mirror.
Honestly, I’m not afraid of terrorist attacks, ISIS, bombs, mass shootings, Mexicans, Muslims or any other fears that are fueling our current hateful fire, but I am very afraid of living in a society that promotes, encourages and allows it to be exploited. That is some real shit to fear.
“Half the world is composed of people who have something to say and can’t, and the other half who have nothing to say and keep on saying it.” –Robert Frost
Today, the most powerful weapon of mass destruction has a face. It’s orange, with bad hair
and a vile mouth. It uses words to fuel anger. It uses words to feed its ego. It uses words to divide this nation. It uses words to make others feel small, and worst of all it’s CONTAGIOUS!
This is our biggest threat and it didn’t cross a border, it was created by the Republican party and grew into the monster it is by our complacency.
The good news is there is a way to put an end to this shit show; stop participating in it. Unfortunately, we have become a nation addicted to crazy, so this is not going to be easy.
Enjoy the Ride … on the Crazy Train. All aboard!
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Doubt or Do It’s Up To You
G.I. Joe? Chuck Norris? or Jesus?
If you’ve been reading me for some time, you already know I admit to being the Mayor of Scardy Cat Town. I’m not embarrassed by this at all, it’s who I am. Lord knows I have entertained many with my fearful experiences.
Over the weekend, as I was casually walking my little lamb chop a/k/a my dog Peanut, I noticed this fucker creeping from under the bushes. Seriously! I’m not even sure what my reaction was other than a slew of obscenities with a side of what might be considered some sort of prayer. That is if repeatedly yelling “Jesus Christ!” “Jesus!” “For good sakes!” and “Holy shit!” are considered prayers.
Random mannequin heads lurking under bushes are just one kind of fear we have to deal with in our lives. These fears are sudden and usually provide a good bit of laughter in the end. Especially when you patiently wait for the next person to walk by.
Sing off key and live!
Then there are those fears that get to us via the media. They just love to plant those hearty doom and gloom seeds in our heads about planes that have plummeted into the ocean or just vanish or engulf into flames or ALL OF THE ABOVE! As if my own imaginary scenarios aren’t enough to keep me grounded!
I won’t even tread into the murky waters of the World News, that shit is just too real. Information overload can consume even the strongest of minds. Thank goodness we control the “off” switch is all I can say.
Last, but certainly not least are those fears that run deep. Those lovely little gems from our childhood or traumatic events that we just love to keep close. No, not the boogieman or clowns.
I’m talking about those haunting fears of not being good enough, rejection, failure and the rest of the negative posse. We tend to keep these close like some sort of security blanket, just in case we need another excuse to move forward or perhaps when we need to point some blame in a direction other than the mirror. Safe, easy and paralyzing.
Why the hell are there so many fears in the first place? Well, I can answer that in one word … DOUBT. You know the sudden loud voice in your head that asks all sorts of negative questions just before you are about to embark on something wonderful. Guess what people? Doubt is an asshole!
At 50 years young I am finally realizing just how much of an asshole Doubt can really be. It 
shows up at the worst time; stays way too long and seems to ruin everything in its path. Just think of a drunk party goer who won’t take the hint that the party is over … yep that’s what Doubt is like.
It has stopped me in my tracks, whispered “what ifs” in my ear and managed to make mountains out of too many molehills. I’m not solving world peace for god sakes!
I vaguely remember my childhood aspirations to be a teacher, a judge, or a rodeo bull rider. I know a judge of all things right? What happened to those dreams along my road to adulthood? Doubt is what happened! You’re not smart enough. You’re not decisive enough. You’re not good enough.
Of course I could drive myself crazy wondering what my life would be like living on a ranch with the Marlboro Man or blaming my parents for not recognizing my passion for the Rodeo segments of the Wide World of Sports, but what would that solve? Zip.
Instead, I have chosen to little by little muster up the courage to punch fear in the face and bitch slap doubt every time they start talking shit about my fabulousness. It’s not really that easy, but it felt good writing it.
It takes time to put our fears in their place. Hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither were you so have some patience.
It’s up to you to get in the driver’s seat.
When you do decide to head down your road to happiness, make sure you buckle up right next to fear. Look back at all your accomplishments. Pick up some positive reinforcements on the way. Let the accomplishments of others blow through your hair and don’t stop until you reach your destination … the corner of Awesome & Bombdiggity sounds like a good start.
Enjoy the Ride!
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Fear and Forbidden Penises
You’re locked in a room with your greatest fear. Describe what’s in the room.
This is such an interesting question, but I would have to break it down into different parts of life in order to grasp the depth for my response. Lord knows the fears have changed over the years.
As a little kid I had a fear of the Dentist. This would most likely be due to the fact my mother told me we were going to the Grand Opening of the Acme, but some how I found myself being put to sleep only to wake up with bloody gauze in my mouth. Surprisingly this did not lead into the fear of supermarkets…interesting fact.
When I was 10 I remember being afraid that my father was going to die. I had just been informed that he was older than my best friend’s grandmother. In my 10 year old mind he was now ancient and it was just a matter of time before he was gone. 21 years later folks, 21 YEARS.
I remember being afraid of being possessed like Linda Blair in the Exorcist for a while back in my pre-teen days. I snuck into this wonderful film at the age of 12, which seemed like a great idea at the time. I moved my entire mattress into my parents room and slept there for 3 weeks. Maybe longer, who’s counting?
I always had a fear of public speaking, well ever since 5th grade anyway. Sister Geraldine felt the need to embarrass me to the point of silencing my every thought. I broke this fear when I had to fight for the rights of my children. Never underestimate the power of a mother.
Then there was the fear of being pregnant that lasted well into my early twenties and resurfaced up until the day the tubes were tied for good. After 12 years of Catholic school I was convinced that the thought of penis would land me into the nearest maternity ward. FYI: Forbidding penises just made everyone want one even more. Well, maybe not everyone.
Next up would be the fear of finding true love. There was so much hype about getting married that this fear left me with settling for someone who was not a good match. The silver lining is that the entire experience showed me what I didn’t want in my life, but learning the lesson was a drag.
In my late 20’s I was hit with the fear of not being able to get pregnant. Life is hilarious isn’t it? 6 miscarriages later I had my daughter. My son followed 2 years later and to this day I have no recollection of that conception.
Now, being a parent brought on fears that never even crossed my mind. They start from the second your child is born, to the end of time. There are too many to list, but I’m sure all the parents out there know exactly what I’m trying to express.
With marriage, houses & kids come all those every day fears of survival. I would consider these the necessity fears. Fear of having enough food, fear of being able to make a mortgage payment..you know all that fun stuff.
Of course, I have always had the normal fear of things like roller coasters, heights, someone following me up the basement steps and serial killers. These are embedded in my core.
Now, back to the question at hand. My answer in this very moment would be … drum roll please…
The room would be stark white and empty except for me. My deepest fear at this stage of my life is Fear of the Unknown. This is more prevalent due to the obvious fact I’m getting older. The unknown use to be exciting and filled with joyful anticipation, now it’s just filled with worry. I’m doing my best to slay this demon by living in the moment…so far so good, but it’s not easy.
Take life one day at a time and Enjoy the Ride!
Life With The Top Down 
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