Somebody shared a meme similar to this the other day and I laughed. Out of these 3 things, Worcestershire sauce is the easiest for me to say. "I was wrong" is even easier to say than #2.
I am an "I love you" whore! I tell everyone who matters in my life that I love them, but "I need you"? Those words seldom cross my lips.
Things have been a bit difficult in my life lately. While I have friends to turn to, saying, "I need you" is extremely hard for me to say. I don't want others to hold space for me. Everyone has so much going on in their lives and I feel like my shit is just that...shit.
Now, I know there is at least one person reading this who is thinking that she and I are going to tussle because I will hold space for her no matter what. When everything goes pear-shaped in her life, I will drop whatever I'm doing to be there. When she says, "I need some Boo time," I rearrange whatever I can for her.
Let's be clear: I have people who will drop everything...IF I would just ask. I just don't ask. My Boo and my Peanut? They'd move heaven and earth for me if I only said, "I need you."
I like to be needed. It helps me push my drama aside for awhile to focus on someone else. I just hate to need others. For so long, I have lived my life without needing someone to lean on. And needing someone has the connotation (in my mind) of being too weak to handle my shit myself.
I do know that there is strength in saying the words, "I need you." And when others say those words to me, my first thought is "How can I help you carry the weight that is on your heart?" But my flawed thinking has me believing that if I ask for time or help, then I am being judged for being weak.
Tell me: What words are hardest for you to say? How are you learning to say them anyway?
I've been accused many times of being a June Cleaver in a Kim Kardashian world. And it seems that is only becoming more and more true.
Today, the lesson is about loyalty and commitment.
We have become a throw away society in so many ways. It isn't just about the convenience of items in our life. It is also about the convenience of people. It doesn't matter how close or distant they are. It doesn't matter if they are a hard worker and loyal to a fault. It becomes about convenience.
This week, I've received an eye opening revelation of what loyalty means to people in my life. It became a point where I actually began to question myself and my values.
I realize I was raised differently than most people. I was raised to be loyal to your job, your friends, and to your mate. However, I've learned that people who claim to be your friend aren't always telling the truth. Spouses cheat and lie. And your job? Well, your job is never a sure thing.
I got a very tough lesson and it is one that I will not soon forget. I've been told so many times how valuable I am, but it turns out that I'm not as valued as I was told. Someone whose opinion I valued revealed their true colors and their opinion of me is not as they once claimed.
Why? Turns out that because I've slightly inconvenienced this person in order to take care of myself and mine, their opinion became one filled with malice and hate. This person turned on me in a way that I never dreamed they could or would.
For a moment (or more like the last day), I've questioned myself and doubted myself. However, what I have discovered is that what I did had nothing to do with how this person feels. But I'm a means to an end for this person. People like me. People within this forum sincerely like me. And I've sheltered this person from the anger for such a long time that they believe that I'm disposable.
Again, I was raised to believe that people are never disposable. And once you make me feel like I am, then you are on your way out of my circle. Making me doubt myself and my values pushes you even further out.
One thing I have learned many times of my years on this planet is that money makes people do stupid things. One of these things is often to believe that people are simply throw away.
I may not be as smart as someone else. Maybe I could work harder or be more dedicated. When it comes to my passion, I am. However, when I have to work to create and build someone else's dream only to find myself being degraded and devalued, then I find myself question where my loyalty should actually lie.
And here is the answer...myself. That is where my loyalty should and will lie. I have a very tight circle of friends and family who love me unconditionally. They, too, have my loyalty. But that's where it ends. No longer will I put my loyalty in people who can't see my value or who make me feel like I'm less than because I am doing what I need to survive.
Because survive I will. And I will soar higher than I ever dreamed...all on my own wings.
How is everyone? I'm praying you and yours are all doing well. I'm still standing and counting the blessings that grace my world.
I started a new blog. I celebrated a birthday. I sat in my sadness over the anniversary of my father's death. I've got on with life and taken a deep breath over the opening up of my world again.
I haven't been into an actual store since March and I'm finding that I don't really miss it. I have a local store that I miss, but, in general, I'm just don't care. I order my groceries online and pick them up on my designated day at my designated time. Anything else I need can either wait or I will order it and have it delivered to the house. The dogs love it! They know when their food is delivered and they get so excited to see the boxes.
Did I tell you I adopted 2 dogs? I don't think I did. My boss and friend knew my heart hurt over losing Diesel. She knew of 2 dogs who needed love, attention, and training. I hesitated simply because neither of them had ever been in the city, let alone a house. I was worried that this would be more than I could handle. I'd managed to train the other dogs because I'd been home full-time. Working full-time would make this dynamic an interesting one. So, just before Halloween 2019, I drove the 30 minutes to pick up these boys. Jaxson is a Jack Russell terrier who hated to be picked up and really didn't want a lot to do with me. Opie, on the other hand, is a blue heeler/border collie mix. (Yeah, energy enough to fuel a small city.) He has been a tryer of my patience. However, he's a good boy who is finally settling into a much more comfy life. Wanna see a picture?
As you can see, they're having an AWFUL time adjusting. LOL The little one is finally learning to snuggle and it just warms my heart. He has been giving kisses and will let me hug him when the mood strikes him. And the big oaf? Well, he's never had an issue with being loved and adored. Walking on a leash? That's a whole different ball game. *eye roll*
Back to the topic of conversation. I have been working through all of this mess, so I'm blessed more than others. With unemployment being a mess and people being out of work, I am so glad to be still working and getting a steady paycheck. I know of small business owners who are being hit so hard right now and it breaks my heart.
And I've opened up a couple of my Word docs to work on my writing. Don't know how far I'll get, but it feels good to stretch my fingers across the keyboard and let the characters come back to life.
So, tell me, how are you faring? You have all been covered in my prayers and will continue to be covered in them as we test the waters of reopening the country, our states, our cities...our lives. Be safe. Be healthy. Be kind.
How is everybody? I want to take a few moments to check in and let you know that if you need to open up, I'm here. It may take me a day or two to respond, but I read every comment/email and will get back to you. I'm still working my day job though our office is closed to the public. As a seasonal worker, my concern is finding another day job with this #SaferAtHome thing going on. I still have bills and need to find a way to keep paying them. I have family members and friends who are like family who have suppressed immune systems or health issues that have them living in fear for their very lives. I tell you all of this so you know that anxiety and depression is running at an all-time high in several areas of my world. YOU ARE NOT ALONE! This mess keeps us isolated from each other, but reach out! I have a best friend who I am missing dearly. We still message every day. Isn't the same as sitting down and having a conversation, but it works for now. This time is a big struggle for many. Essential workers are struggling being away from their family members and dealing with people who just don't understand how dire this situation is. Non-essential workers are struggling with being isolated from the world at large. If you can, get out in the sunshine and embrace nature, allowing Mother Earth to hold you tightly against her. If that isn't an option, don't spend all of your downtime in front of the television or on social media. Read a book. Write in a journal. Meditate. Love on your pets. Clean your space. If you go out into the world for whatever reason, you have, please remember to be kind. Nobody is happy with the state of the world at the moment. We are all dealing with internal struggles and we are simply humans. Showing patience and kindness harms no one. You are loved. You are needed. You are doing just fine. And you are not alone in your feelings.
As we close out the year, my Facebook feed is filled with people making lists of their accomplishments. People have traveled the world, gotten degrees, published several books, gotten their dream jobs, started their own businesses. All things that are great things! And I am so happy for them all. Then, there's me...I survived!
Yes, that is my great accomplishment for 2018...survival! I know it may not seem like much, but trust me, it has been a feat.
Depression has tried to kick my ass and some days it felt like it would succeed, but it didn't. I'm still here. I have watched my dreams get put aside because Life got in the way. My anxiety has shot through the roof. There were days when I couldn't even think of leaving my house. However, after a day of self-care, I managed to get out in the world again. I cried more tears than I have in a long time. I've hated myself, my life, and everything in between. However, I've also managed to fall in love with certain aspects of myself and laughter managed to wipe out the tears. And my dreams? Well, we'll see what comes of them. Right now, I'm not expecting much.
2018 has not been the best year on record, let me tell you! I haven't thrived in any way, shape, or form, but I have survived! To be honest, that is more important than anything. If I don't survive, I can never thrive.
So, let me tell you something. A while ago, I wrote about highlight reels and how people are only revealing their best selves on social media. They want the accolades that come with their successes. They don't show you the struggles or the downfalls they've faced.
Life has kicked my ass this year. I'm not being anything other than honest. I've scared the people who love me most. I went darker than I have gone in a very long time. But I'm still here. I'm still fighting. I keep believing that tomorrow will be a better day and the future me will find her way. People tell me that I have no faith. They're wrong!
Did you have a year where you saw dreams come true and made great strides in your life? That is great! I'm so happy for you! Did this year kick your butt? Are you still breathing and fighting for a better life? That is awesome! I'm proud of you!
I am praying that 2019 will be a better year. I hope I can find my lost path or maybe forge a new one. I hope to thrive and find a few of those long lost dreams coming to fruition. However, if I merely survive, well, that is okay, too!
I wish you a happy and blessed New Year! Be safe! Be loved!
Sorry I've gone for so long. Had some things I need to work through.
Without a date in sight, I've had to work past the fear that I may never return to school. That means putting a lot of my dreams aside and looking at the future. However, that made me sad and my depression amped back up. So, I had to look at where I am and learn to make the best of every single day.
See, I have a job that I really don't care for, but there's a problem...I'm good at it! LOL I don't despise it like I did. It just isn't where I want to be. I keep being told there is a reason I am in this place, so I'm learning to just go with it. I don't mind the people like I did. I've learned that I am more like my grandmother than I ever dreamed possible. Hahahaha
This job requires me to take care of myself a bit better. I need to look a particular way when I go to work which means that I have to pay a bit more attention to me. I polish my nails, put on make-up, do my hair, and dress nicer. I interact with people who aren't always the kindest people, yet I get some people who absolutely make my day. So, not only am I learning to be kinder to myself, I'm learning to be kinder to others.
I've also got some downtime. Lately, I've been using it to just push past the brick wall in front of which I find myself. I may have to take it apart brick by brick, but I'll get through it somehow. However, I've also been writing. Yes, actually working on a book! No promises on when it will be finished. I've got a tough scene coming up and it is tearing me apart to write it, but it needs to be done. I've also been working on redesigning the covers so that they reflect more of me and my style. I've waffled back and forth quite a bit about changing my author name. After my divorce, I just don't feel right about using the last name, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there. So, I haven't forgotten about you, this blog, or the books. I've just had a lot on my mind that needed to be worked through. While I'm still a long way from finished, I am feeling better day by day.
As we approach the week of Thanksgiving, I've been doing a lot of thinking about how things have changed since last year at this same time. And I've been giving thanks for all the changes, the good and the bad.
Last year, I was working and thinking I'd be stuck in this job forever since I didn't see a way to go back to school. Yet, here I am. I'm back in college and not doing half bad. I've made some decisions that have helped and I'm moving forward with so much hope.
People have come and gone in this last year. It hasn't been easy to let them go. However, I've had no choice, but to let them go. Maybe some day I'll understand, but for today, I'm thankful that they walked with me while they could. I've learned and grown from having them with me.
I had been panicking about getting my books back from the publisher and I did. I'm grateful for all that I learned with the publisher I had, but I'm also thankful that I can move forward on my own terms.
I've made personal choices and decisions, made efforts that hurt, but stretched me into growing, and it's an ever evolving thing. I've experienced hurt and happiness, joy and deep sorrow, yet, I'm thankful for everything I've gone through and those who have stuck by me through it all!
So, this week, while I'm counting my blessings and enjoying the break from school, please know that each and every one of you are among the blessings I am thankful for.
Life is organic and fluid. Changes are occurring all the time, however, big or small. And they're not always easy changes, but they are necessary. But choosing to be thankful...well, it helps, trust me, it helps.
And some days are stones. Okay, more like massive boulders that hang on your neck, threatening to pull you under. This last week has been one of those weeks that you just can't believe is happening and you pray ends quickly, but drags on.
On my way to class last week, I hit a deer. In the city limits, outside of a cemetery. Then, on my home from class on Monday, I stopped at a yield sign coming off the highway. As I looked over my shoulder to check from traffic coming, an idiot who had been sitting behind me, rear-ended me. *SIGH* Luckily, it was only cosmetic damage to the truck and I'm fine. Tuesday I had the final mid-term which went fairly well. Wednesday went well. Thursday I completely stressed out and flipped a switch that sent me over the edge. I exploded all over everyone in my life. Friday, I had a pop quiz in history and a quiz in math. The pop quiz actually went better than the planned quiz, surprisingly enough. And working on edits for my books? Yeah, just didn't happen! If I attempted them, I would have ended up hitting the delete button and I've been told no one wants that to happen. Let me tell you a couple of lessons I learned this week: 1)Asking for help is not a sign of weakness. 2)If you don't ask the question, the answer is always "No!" 3)"I'm sorry" are only words unless you change your behavior. 4)Overthinking leads to panic which exacerbates the problem which makes you overthink and panic more. 5)Walking away for a few moments to catch your breath will give you a new perspective. 6)Speaking when you're stressed out and upset makes words come out of your mouth that hurt other people. 7)You don't have to have all the answers, but don't be afraid to ask someone who knows more to help you out. I tell ya, this has been a week of epic proportions! I've cried, raged, wanted to punch the walls, then, I took some deep breaths, stepped back, and said "I can't do this without some help!" It's amazing the doors that opened up and the hands I found being offered. I have found the blessings in the disasters and I'm thankful for the little things. So, I guess the final lesson is this: 8) Diamonds are made from stones under pressure.
Is it just me or does it feel like this year has been flying by? It's already October which means I've been back in school for almost a month which means mid-terms are coming down the pike! Holy smokes! School is going well! I'm actually getting the back in the swing and loving it. My classes are challenging enough to keep my hopping, but slow going enough that I'm not killing myself to stay on top of things. I feel good in saying that I've got the majority of my holiday shopping done. Yes, you read that right! I'm almost completely done with my shopping. I'm pretty proud if I do say so myself. If it weren't for the internet, I wouldn't be even halfway done. I've been sharing some of the things I've been writing with you all and the response has been great! Thank you all for your support! Here's a little something I wrote and it makes me think of autumn:
His Eyes
Many would call your eyes "brown" when they see you.
However, when I look into your eyes, I see so much more than simply a color.
I see the sun radiating through the fall foliage on a brisk autumn day.
I see fire flickering through a glass of cognac.
I see the leaves changing to their autumn colors with little flecks of green still visible in their coats.
I see the summertime sun filtering through the water in a pond.
I see the moon with a haze over its light.
I see my world.
I see my love.
I see my life.
I do not merely see the color brown.
I see my everything.
I was watching a show the other night and the main character was pondering out loud to her sleeping lover "Where do you go when you dream?" It made me think and this is the result:
Where Does Your Heart Go?
When the night is dark and you're lying in bed alone, lost in your overthinking...where does your heart go?
When the seas of life are rough and the storms are raging overhead, tossing your ship from side to side...where does your heart go?
When your day has been filled with negativity unending and you feel like you've been kicked too often while you're down...where does your heart go?
When you feel cast aside and no one wants you around, when you're feeling empty...where does your heart go?
Whose arms do you ache for comfort?
With whom does your anchor lie?
Who is the first person you reach for?
Where does your heart go, my darling?
When my night is at its darkest and the moon is hidden behind the clouds, my heart reaches out to you.
When the storms are raging around me and my ship feel lost at sea, it's the cove of your love where I seek shelter.
When my day goes from bad to worse and I feel bullied by those around me, I search for you, my hero, to protect me from the world.
When I feel empty and lonely, unloved and afraid, it is your arms that I long for to hold me tight and love me unconditionally.
I'm off to conquer the world of college algebra. I hope you all have an amazing week! I'll catch you on the flipside!!
This posting was going to be funny and silly, but I've had something on my mind lately. It has to do with age and I'm tired of holding back.
I'm celebrating a birthday this week and it's a milestone. I've fussed over it. I've cried over it, but no matter what, it is going to happen. Honestly, I'd rather have that than the other option! However, someone said something to me the other day and it pissed me off. They hurt my feelings! They said, "Remember how old you are. You aren't 20 anymore!"
You know what? I know that! I look in the mirror every single day and I know I'm not 20! I feel the aches and pains in my joints. I know I'm not 20! I don't need your reminder that I'm older than I want to be!
I was talking to my darling sister the other day and actually said the words, "I thought I'd have more time!" When I was younger, I wasted time. I gave time to people who didn't deserve it. I allowed people to take from me without giving back. I let people take my spirit, steal my thunder, and break me until I was less than I wanted or deserved to be! I made mistakes that cost me more than I should've allowed! And, trust me, I'm paying the price now.
I'm not a woman who regrets the decisions she's made. There's no point because I can't change the past. Every decision has led me to the spot I am now. I was beat down and degraded. I lost my voice. I still have a few issues to work on, but I'm trying. And I love the woman I've found under years of breakage and hurt. People buried my fire until it was almost out. Unfortunately for them, the ember still smoldered. I've been digging through the wreckage of my soul for a while and the fire is back to roaring.
I know I'm not 20! I wouldn't want to be. Being 20 would put me back in a place I wouldn't want to be with people I don't like all that much. I don't have to "act my age" or be reminded that I'm not a teenager. I color my hair whatever fucking color I feel like. I wear whatever fucking clothes I want. I wear as much or as little make-up as I want. Most days, I'm mistaken for 28-35. I'm okay with that! Hell, I'm ecstatic over that! When someone asks me how old I am, I love watching their mouths fall open because they think I'm so much younger. And that's on a college campus! After a lifetime of being the geek who has her nose in a book, I've had some students actually tell me I'm the "coolest chick" they know. I've been told I inspire them.
So here's a piece of advice: The next time you get the urge to remind a woman of their age or say "Well, a woman of a certain age would...", shut your damn mouth and blow your opinion out your ass! Why? Because women of ANY age can do whatever the hell they want and they don't need your permission to do so!
Have you ever walked past a mirror and catch your reflection out of the corner of your eye? I did that today and I caught a glimpse of my mother. At an earlier point in history, that would have terrified me. But now...it's a badge of honor.
In my last post, I posted some pictures of my mom. One of the comments was how much I look like her. I used to hear that a lot as a teenager. It drove me crazy! Not that I didn't think my mother was beautiful...I just wanted to be seen as my own person and everyone was so busy comparing me to her. "You look just like your mother," I'd hear more often than not. Not "You're so beautiful" or "I love your outfit." Just "You look just like your mother" or even worse "You're just like your mother was at this age."
Not too long ago, I sent my mom a picture of my hand. Never mind why, just that I did. She sent me a picture of hers back with the question "Whose hands do you have?" I had to laugh because aside from some cosmetic things, our hands are identical! But I know those hands of hers. They've held babies, comforted people, worked hard, been cracked open from cold, calloused from carrying buckets and hay bales, kneaded countless batches of bread, made so many cookies, and loved. Mine haven't experienced that much wear and tear, yet I look at our hands side by side and there they are...almost identical.
As I age, I notice more and more of my mom coming out. I opened my mouth to say something to someone just the other day and my mother came shooting out! It happens more and more. It's not always positive. Especially when it comes to my body. I hear her words emerge from my mouth when I tell people how I feel about my curves. I watched my mom struggle with her body issues all of my life. There was no size small enough to make her happy. I remember looking at her stretch marks and thinking they were beautiful because I was one of the reasons she had them. Yet, I look at my own and there hasn't been a person born from these marks. She hated her stretch marks and I, in turn, hate mine. As she's aged, she's become more positive about her body. I've still got a ways to go.
We've had our ups and downs through the years, but when it comes to my mom and all that she's done in her life, I look up to her. She taught me a lot and I'm sure I'll keep learning from her as I go. Hopefully, she can forgive the child I was and see past that to the woman I'm attempting to become.
Happy Mother's Day to all of you mothers! Fur kids, feathered kids, fin kids, scaly kids, or skin kids, you are a mom and you are loved!
It appears as if Spring has finally arrived to stay here in my corner of the world. The grass is growing. Birds are singing. The trees have buds on them. Green shoots are pushing through the dirt. The chipmunks have invaded with a vengeance. Rabbits have overrun my yard.
Yes, you read those last two things right. Let me explain. I love these fuzzy little critters, I really do. But here's my problem: They seem to think that they should be in the house pets. Two times now, a chipmunk has had to be relocated (no, they're not allowed to be killed!) to a pine tree across the street. *hangs head* I may have named him Alvin (Honestly, Simon and Theodore would NEVER get into this kind of trouble!) I have two that live in my garage. My neighbors have got to think I'm insane because I stand in the garage and tell them, "Simon, Theodore, you can stay in the garage and hide from Oreo (my neighbor's cat), but I swear to all that I hold holy, if you get under the hood of my truck and chew on the damn wiring, you're cat food!"
The rabbits have built a den within the walls of my second bedroom. The way that room is laid out, a couple of them have made their way inside. The adult was shooed out fairly easy. The baby, on the other hand, was more difficult. Never mind, that as this is happening, I have 175 lb. dog thinking he needs to get in on the fun which only aggravates the bunnies more! The fact that neither of them had a heart attack impresses me! Now, they've taken to lounging on my front steps. How do I know this? Because there is rabbit shit all over my steps! This is a place where they have to go up three steps to lie down! Nothing like stepping out there in bare feet in the morning and having those little surprises. (I'm usually on autopilot and forget until it's too late. This is pre-caffeination.)
However, I have finally found the way they're getting in the house. Before this is, it was a mystery. Now, to get some wood to board up the hole. Getting the landlord to do it is not an option since he's not reliable on anything except complaining if the lawn isn't mowed on his schedule.
Did I also mention that the damn chipmunks have taken to climbing onto my bedroom window screen to chitter at me at 4 am? And no, they're not singing. If only... Uh huh...I'm thinking these little beasts don't understand the human way of living. Just because the sun is rising doesn't mean this human is getting up...I just need another hour.
Yeah, Spring has arrived and this author's world seems to only get nuttier every time the season changes. Maybe this is what city living does to a country girl! It makes her crazy :) Oh wait, I was already there.
Hello! I hope your New Year is going well so far. I have a few pieces of news:
1) My contract with Leap of Faith Publishing is coming to an end. What does this mean? Well, it means that I am getting the rights back to my books. Keeper of the Golden Dragon's Heart and Natural Born Enemies will be pulled from the sites they are currently on. I am going to re-edit them and fix the mistakes that were previously overlooked as well as create new covers for them. I'm not sure when they'll be available again, but I will be working hard to make them available to you as soon as possible! 2) To go with the new self-published versions of these books, I am also creating a new website. I want to be able to use pictures I've taken of the areas that inspired the Cedar River series and this affords me the option to bring that piece of the world to you in a more stream-lined fashion. What does this mean for this particular blog? I'm not sure at this point. I adore Blogger and may just keep the blog here. 3) As for the Gemma K. Murray name...I did consider a change to my author name, however, I chose this name for a reason. I have so many things that would have to change to accommodate a different name and I just don't think it is a reasonable thing to do. So, whenever the books are re-released, you will find them under the same author name.
If I am not willing to do the work to make my dream come true, how can I trust someone else to do so? I can't. This is why I'm doing everything I can to put books out that I am proud of. From the covers to the words inside, they will be my creations. This means that I am stepping into different territories to make the products I give you the best they can be. I'm learning to edit photos and create covers. I'm building a website. I'm working very hard and I want you to be happy with the changes that are being made.
I'll still be blogging here and keeping you apprised of the situation as well as how I'm progressing on things. I only ask that you be patient with me.
I was raised in a home where, no matter how much or how little we had, blessing others was a given. The belief was if you blessed others, then you'd be caught up in a storm of blessings. I can see the point to that, honestly. After all, I was taught that you never knew when you'd be entertaining unawares.
This is the problem though: so many people are preaching to others about how their religion is the right one, yet so many have forgotten about the blessing without conditions. And when it comes to entertaining angels, have they stopped to think that the homeless man or woman may be that angel, but what about the fact that your child could also be that angel? I know people who become so wrapped up in "serving" the church and community that they forget that they can serve their gods by being dedicated parents, too. The homeless man deserves your respect just as the elderly couple in your church do, but...so do your parents, grandparents, children.
I know people who profess their religion, but don't live it. They gossip ferociously about the woman who shows up to Sunday services in a disheveled state, but they don't see that she has worked the night shift at a job she hates, but still shows up to thank her God for his blessings. These same people will give their time to the community events, but skip their kids' football games because they "don't have the time." They will offer to mow the yards or shovel the driveways of the elderly people in their church, but can't be bothered to do the same for their parents who live a block or two away.
As humans, we need to practice the faith of being good to everyone. After all, who is to say that the angel in your life isn't your mother, your son, your spouse, or your grandparent? Blessing others isn't a hard thing to do. But we are so determined that it is about blessing the people outside our family/friend units. We forget that they need to be blessed, too.
See that is the cool thing about love and blessings: they multiply when you give them away. But it multiplies tenfold when you bless those you love. They don't ask for too much too often. Sometimes it is simply a phone call to see how they are. Or maybe it is a couple of hours cheering them on. Or maybe even taking a plate of baked goods to them and visiting for an hour or so.
Why do we find it so hard to bless the world, but we forget the people in our families who need the blessings as well? What if when you get to the gates of wherever you're going after you die and you discover that the only religion needed to enter that space was one of blessings and love?
This song plays and my mind (and heart) go back to my childhood home. In an attempt to gain deeper knowledge about myself, I've been digging into the memories I have from growing up.
The house I was raised in was a family home. My great-grandparents lived there. My grandparents lived there. My parents lived there. There was history there. And not just history...MY history. The rooms I played in, my grandfather played in as well as my mother.
I remember lying in my bed at night and I imagined that I could feel the heartbeat of the house through the walls. Not in a creepy Stephen King way, but a soothing way. So many people talk about a house bursting at the seams. In my mind, our burst at the seams from all the love that had been created in that house.
It wasn't a house that would win awards from HGTV, but to me, it was beautiful. In the front yard stood a HUGE maple tree that, for years, held an old tire swing. One of the roots had grown above the surface and made the perfect step for us kids. There was a lilac hedge that grew the length of the front yard. The breeze would blow through them in the spring and scent the entire house. Tiger lilies grew out by the mailbox. Two large oak trees grew at the end of our driveway and a yellow maple grew in the front yard near the road. The willow in the backyard made an excellent hiding place until Mom trimmed it. *G* I can still see the clothes blowing on the clothesline in the summer breeze. Freshly washed and dried sheets just off the line are always amazing to climb into at night. I miss that feeling.
Inside the house smelled clean and filled with baked goods. It was a rare occurrence that Mom wasn't in the kitchen, baking something. Whether it was pies, cookies, or cake, she always had something in the oven. Then, there were the meals. On the cool fall or cold winter days, ghoulash or chili would simmering away on the stove with homemade bread in the oven. Spring and summer usually brought lighter fare like creamed potatoes with fresh peas.
As much as I cringed over the pink rosebud wallpaper in my room (wasn't quite the girly girl), I loved tracing the pattern as I sat in my bed reading. As I grew up, I added bits and pieces of furniture to make my own living space. I had the perfect little apartment set up. A living area and bedroom plus I used the hallway as a place to set up a desk. I loved having my own space to be alone.
Before we lost the farm, my summer days were filled with all sorts of things. Gardening, picking berries, taking care of the animals, and on those rare days with nothing to do, I'd pack a bag and take off across the pastures to the creek that ran along the back of our property. A couple of hard boiled eggs, a shaker of salt, a glass of lemonade, and a couple of cookies along with a towel and books, I'd set off for the afternoon. Getting lost in my own imagination was the best way for me to while away the hot summer day, dangling my feet in the creek.
I remember Saturday lunches of burgers, homemade fries, and malts while watching television. On occasion, Dad would get out his guitar and play. Summer evenings meant playing ball in the front yard once chores were done. Winter nights meant board games or television. If it were Christmastime, lots of baking. Dad would turn on the music and we would sing and dance while fudge bubbled away on the stovetop and cookies baked in the ovens.
Sure it sounds ideal, right? Let's not forget the arguments...especially when I became a teenager. Mom and I had more than our share of arguments that ended with either one or both of us in tears. Dad would tell me later how he tried hard not to laugh at us because we were often saying the same thing and both were so damned certain we were right. We learned that communication (at least for us) worked better if we wrote out our feelings. Often, I'd come home from school and there would be a note, written on stationary, lying on the stairs to my room. I'd read it, cry, smile and then reply. Then, I'd take my own note and put it on the counter. It's not that we didn't communicate. It was that we expressed our feelings better on paper. (Not a huge surprise that I became a writer after knowing this, right?)
When I left that house, my heart broke. I knew every nook and cranny of that old farmhouse. It was home. I have spent all of my adult life trying to have a home like that and I haven't managed yet. I've lived in many different places in a few different states, but home? Never have achieved that feeling. I'm still trying, but I've learned that it isn't necessarily the actual building, but the people who make a house a home. Of course, after re-reading this for any errors, I can see the truth. The house was just the storage place for all that love. It was the people who made that old farmhouse home. I'm still working on building a home my own to hold all the love that is created.
I've been in a bit of a funk the last week. I'm not sure why. I don't feel like writing. I don't feel like doing much of anything. Just that sort of funk I can't shake. I've tried to mediate. I've lit candles and incense. I've prayed. I'm just in a funk.
It may have to do with the fact that everyone is back in classes except me. I made the decision to take the semester off to write and refocus my thoughts, find my direction. I needed to take a break, but I'm regretting it. I miss the people I talked to on a daily basis. (That is a big confession for this introvert.) I miss sitting in the cafe with a cup of coffee and talking to my friends.
Writing is important to me and I love doing it, but for some reason, something is off in my world. I mean, off to the point of crying because this is my passion. Why am I not feeling it? Why am I having this issue? I put my butt in the chair and I have the keyboard in front of me. No thoughts come to me and I just can't see the point.
I'm not feeling inspired, I guess. Even my cooking and baking is slacking. I'm sticking with the basics and not really trying anything new. A lot of easy meals with no thought process required. Cut the chicken, put it in the pan, cook it, add the veggies and any sauce, let cook. Serve over the rice. (I eat a lot of Asian food.)
There are people who will tell you that the situation with my rental house is the problem (crappy landlord who refuses to fix things, like the ceiling that is falling in my dining room), and maybe they're right. Everything is in disarray due to the landlord not dealing with the issues that need to be handled. Most of my stuff is packed up, waiting for a place away from this town. I'm just not meant to be a city dweller. Others would tell you that my employer drains me. Now, they're not wrong either. I'm run down on my best of days. I take vitamins to keep my energy level up. I don't eat a lot of junk. Truthfully, I think my depression is cycling again. And all of the things above probably add to it.
I'm trying to make the appropriate changes, but it feels as if the universe is conspiring against me until I learn the lesson I need to learn. So, yellow brick road is keeping me returning to this point.
Somebody sent me this video. Thought I'd share the love with you:
I cried because I feel like I'm letting the little girl, who had such big dreams, down. She was determined to get out of that "one horse town" and become somebody. She was going to make a name for herself and change the world. I wanted to make a difference and I'm feeling like I haven't done half of what that young girl hoped for. Her dreams were so big...she wanted to write books and make a name for herself...to be her own woman, independent and strong. She didn't want to need people. She wanted people to be in her life because she wanted them there, not because she had to rely on others.
It's funny how Life can take our hopes and dreams, twist them around, and make them seem impossible. I mean, c'mon, I don't remember wanting to be a princess. I wanted to marry a man just like my dad. I was gonna be a woman just like my mom, except with the addition of the writing thing. I was going to have a big house in the woods with 5 kids and 20 dogs. My author name was going to be HUGE!
And this is where I feel like I'm disappointing that little girl in the big farmhouse who had dreams of making her way in this world. My muse has left me and I have no idea how to start writing again. I'm afraid I will never write another word in any of my works in progress. And if I do finish a book, publish it, etc., no one will ever want to read it. My anxiety and fear take over and I can't catch my breath.
A while back I wrote a quick poem/story about searching for the little girl who was still inside, suffocating on the lack of dreams the adult version refused to believe in. I cried as I wrote it because I had laid all of my dreams aside for others. I pushed everything aside in order to make sure others got to pursue their dreams.
I do remember her: she splashed in mud puddles, danced in the rain, played in the fields, sat under a willow tree and dreamed of the future. I still see her idealistic idea of what love and relationships looked like and how they lasted forever.
The adult version is so far off from that little girl's dream. The craziness and monotony of life has a way of stripping away the rose hue that colors our world as children.
Maybe it is time to go dance in the rain again, splash through a mud puddle without worrying about ruining my shoes, and believe in that forever love. (I'm told it exists!) And get back to dreaming those BIG dreams again! Maybe even make a few come true!
If you know me and have read any of my previous blog posts, then you know I've been on a journey of self-discovery over the last few years. It seems as if I've been on this journey for my entire life, but I was content to settle down in one place every now and again as I've traveled this road.
The last few weeks...hell, the last few years, I've been making decisions on what I want. I've ignored the call of the universe. I've stopped listening to the gods and nature. I even stopped listening to my own heart. I am a very practical person who tends to use her head first and hope her heart follows. And that, readers, is how I've ended up here.
Now, I'm not saying I'm somewhere I'm not supposed to be. I hate to think I've been wasting time. That would be horrible for a frugal person to do...waste things. But I was told to look at it as I was taking my time... taking the long way around to get to the exact spot I needed to be.
My mom sent me an email over my birthday and this is what she said: "Life started out rough for you and you've always been a fighter ever since. I was never sure if you weren't ready for this world (coming breech and being born caesarean) or you decided that you weren't going to do things like every one else." A fighter determined to do things her own way...hmmm, not bad, right? Until you get used to fighting to get over the mountain in front of you that you miss the path beside the mountain that will take you around it instead of over it.
I laugh as I write this blog post because I'm feeling like the Nine who chose to go into the mines of Baradur and to the "safety" of the dwarves when Saruman attacked them on the snowy mountain in Lord of the Rings. I'm not sure which character I am at the moment. The frozen little Hobbits (Frodo, Sam, Merry, or Pippin), the lovely elf, impenetrable by the cold (Legolas), the sturdy dwarf (Gimli), the wise wizard (Gandalf), or the strong men (Boromir or Aragorn). (Can you tell I'm a Tolkien nerd?) Or maybe I'm the lowly Gollum/Smeagol who is determined to be his own worst enemy. The one whose eyes are so set on the one ring to rule them all that he loses sight of himself. Yeah, that might be.
So often we start off on a journey and we are so focused on the destination that we forget that the journey is where all the fun lies. With that being said, I'm making life-altering decisions, paying attention to my compass (my heart) and letting it lead me where i need to go. It is time for the romantic side to be in charge for a while, let the mind catch up.
I hope you'll all follow me on my journey, stop and visit as I pass by, maybe even walk with me for a while if you'd like. I'd love the company.
Today is my birthday, but I'm giving you the presents. I want to give away digital copies of my books to my readers.
Here are the rules:
1. One book per person (and only one format)
2. This will run only until midnight CT on May 25, 2016
3. Any emails received after midnight will be tossed out.
4. You must send me an email (gemmakmurray@gmail.com) with the following:
a. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GEMMA in the subject line
b. Your name
c. The title of the book (Keeper of the Golden Dragon's Heart, Natural Born Enemies, or The Golden Dragon's Treasure)
d. Which format you would like
e. The email you would like the book sent to.
5. If any of the above pieces of information are missing, the email will be deleted.
All I ask is that you are patient and give me time to respond to everyone. Please respect my work and DO NOT pirate my books. If you feel like leaving a review, I would appreciate it, but it isn't necessary.
Some days, dancing in the rain is not an option. Some days, I'm lucky to get out of bed. My depression is so bad lately that I feel as if I'm drowning.
See, I'm coming up on a big anniversary...the day my hero left this world. It happens to fall right after my birthday. I'm so focused on this anniversary and how my daddy is not here to call me that I can barely keep moving.
It hurts so badly this year. You see, my dad used to call me constantly, but on my birthday when I'd answer the phone with my usual, "Hi." I'd get "Happy Birthday" sang to me in his "I think I'm Elvis" voice. I'd roll my eyes and laugh. Then, he'd tell me how much he loved me and about the night I came into this world. The last time I spoke to him was my birthday. We spoke for two hours that day. This was one of our longest conversations. It is forever ingrained in my memory. His final words to me were "In case, I haven't told you...it is an honor to be your dad." We told each other "I love you" and hung up. Three days later, this great man took his leave.
Now I know I was lucky! Not every girl has a daddy like mine. And that's okay, too! I was a daddy's girl and proud of that. Hell, we were both proud of that!
I am reminded every day of how much I'm loved. I do know that. The people in my life never let a day go by without telling me they love me.
Everyone tells me that the reason I'm having a hard time this year is because I'm truly happy for the first time. That might be. I'm taking some big steps in my life and I wish I could seek his advice. Am I making the right decisions? Am I doing the right things? Could I be doing something better? Am I headed in the right direction or should I have taken that right at Albuquerque (Bugs Bunny reference)?
Depression will NOT beat me! I won't allow it!! But for today...I might just let the darkness stay for a little while longer. (Damn flying monkeys are determined to kill my happy!)
Never mind...Toto is up and needing a walk. The Wizard and a couple of Munchkins are wanting breakfast. No wallowing allowed today!
