The Hardest Words to Say

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'll Always Remember You Young

This song has been playing on the radio a lot lately. It catches my ear, but I seldom hear all of the words simply because I'm lost in my own thoughts most days. However, the other day was a rough one. 

Christmas is always tough time, but this was the first one without my partner in crime, my rock, my best friend...my beautiful boy, Diesel. My heart has been a bit heavier this year. I've been missing my grandparents, my dad, Diesel, my cousin (and now his partner) and my mind has traveled across the ethereal plane, wondering if they are all okay.

The first time I remember asking my grandma how old she was, she answered, "I'm 53." She wasn't much older then than I am now. I cannot imagine Grandma coloring her hair wild colors and wearing the clothes I wear. But in my mind, she is forever 53. Playing ball with us kids, making date candy into dog turd shapes to give to her baby brother, and playing Chinese checkers on rainy Saturdays.

My grandpa is frozen in time as a younger man. Reminding me to hold my silverware like a lady, to not wear my cap so far down on my ears cuz "ladies don't have cauliflower ears", and buying his only granddaughter plastic collectible ponies for Christmas.

My parents will be forever in their thirties. Back when they were happy. Back before Dad's PTSD took over his life. Back when we were still a family.

My cousin will always be 18 (and I can hear him laughing). I remember his smile...god, how I loved him. Driving to town with him to pick up his paycheck, Billy Idol blasting on the radio, no cares in the world. 

I know my cousin, Beth, will laugh, but to me, she'll always be 16. Rimming my waterline with black eyeliner while Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons rocked out on the television in her parents' living room. She is the closest thing to a big sister I've ever had.

And my darling Diesel will forever be the puppy who loved to be carried to bed, sung "Baby Mine", and was the best friend a girl could ask for.

 

My friends are forever frozen in time at 18. When our futures were bright, life was simple, and the world was ours for the taking.

The other day, someone asked me what I was like when I was younger. I paused a moment or two and let my mind travel back in time. I wasn't much different than I am now. Ballsy. Full of sass. Full of spirit. I was the girl who hung out with the guys with jacked-up trucks on Main Street on Friday night, her best friend by her side. Driving backroads with the windows down and the music up loud. Seeing just how much trouble we could find. My nose wasn't always in a book, but pretty damn often. I dreamed of getting out of the one horse town and being someone special. I had big dreams and lofty aspirations. 

I've often wondered how people remember me. If they remember me at all. I'm sure I'm the bad guy to some, wounded to others, beautiful with an ugly heart/ugly with a beautiful heart, unlovable, untouchable, and I'm sure the list goes on. I just hope someone somewhere remembers me fondly as someone who gave her all. And always remembers me young!

An Exercise in Forgiveness

Last night, I watched a movie that hit me at the very deepest, darkest depths of my soul. It triggered emotions that I thought I'd buried deep enough that they'd never surface again. I sobbed and cried like I haven't sobbed and cried in a very long time.

I went to bed, tears still in my eyes. This morning when I woke up, it hit me hard. For the majority of my life, I've been expecting people to love me the way I needed to be loved. I didn't accept that they may be loving me the only ways they knew how.

I have always felt at a deficit because of this. Then, the man with the charismatic smile showed up and saw me. He really saw me and all that went with me. For the first time in my life, I didn't feel like a disappointment.  I didn't feel inadequate. I didn't feel like an embarrassment. I didn't feel like I was too much. I felt, for the first time in my entire life, like I was enough. 

I prayed for him for years. I prayed for that feeling for years. And when it arrived, I couldn't believe it was happening or that it would stay. I didn't recognize the contentedness. 

So, today, I'm releasing forgiveness into the universe. For being angry at people who loved me in the only ways they knew, for blaming others for my feelings, for the apologies that have/will never come, and for myself, for allowing these things to keep me from seeing love when it arrived. 

I write this to encourage you to forgive those who have done wrong by you, whether intentionally or unintentionally. It is not an excuse for keeping toxic people in your life. It is an agent to help with the healing of your heart and moving forward in a positive manner.

Love and light to you all!

It's My Life...

Hold onto your hats because I am about to hit my soapbox again!

Let me say this for everyone to hear: STOP SHAMING WOMEN! And for those of you in the back who may have missed that: STOP SHAMING WOMEN!!!!!

I am turning 47 in a short while. 47 does not mean that my vagina is ready to be closed up and seen as a decoration only. 47 does not mean that I have to give up my dreams. 47 does not mean that I have to act like an old woman, change the way I wear my hair, dress in muumuus and house slippers, and god forbid, forget about sex! 

I am so sick of seeing the women in my life, including myself, being shamed for dressing in jeans, t-shirts, and tennis shoes. Being shamed for dating men who are younger, enjoying sex, and enjoying the life we have been given.

And who are the people doing shaming? It's women! So, again, let me say this for those of you in the back: Women are allowed to do whatever they damn well please! We do not need YOUR permission to wear clothes we like, do our hair the way we want to, have sex partners who are younger than we are, or love our bodies. 

So a word of advice: Don't tell women they are unable to do the things they want to do. If someone asks your opinion, then give it. If they don't ask, keep your damn mouth shut. If it isn't coming from a place of sincere love, then hush.

I have had to give up a lot of things to get where I am. It may not be perfect and it may not be where I want to be at the end of things, but this is MY life. These are my decisions, for better or worse. You don't have to like them or even support them. You just need to keep your mouth shut unless I specifically ask you for your advice. I don't look 47. I don't act 47. I don't dress like I'm 47. I don't color my hair like I'm 47. I don't feel 47. And I will be damned if I'm old before my time.

*Steps off my soapbox* Please hear what I'm saying and apply it to your life. It will make things so much better, I promise. 

You Gotta Have Faith...

Let's have a conversation about faith. It is a subject that has been on my mind a lot in the last few years. I was raised in faith and taught that faith would get me through the troubles Life would throw at me. My problem over the last few years has been that I wasn't sure what faith was. What did it look like? I've had a lot of people who have told me, "Have faith." But if I'm not sure what it looks like, how can I have it? So, I thought I'd share some things that I have discovered.

Faith isn't always about HUGE miracles. It isn't about, "Oh my god! I have a hundred people coming over for dinner. I have 2 chicken breasts and a bag of rice to feed them. God will provide." Some days faith is simply getting out of bed. For me, faith can look like me getting up and getting ready for work because I know I'll still be part of this earthly plane when the bills come due. My faith can also look like me coming home from work, taking a shower, getting into my pajamas, and crawling beneath the warm covers with a prayer on my lips, believing that there is a higher power who is listening to the things on my heart.

Lately, it has looked like me applying for a second job. I don't believe that some higher power is going to set bags of money on my doorstep and make big deposits in my bank account. However, by applying for this job, I had faith that I would get it. After months of praying and working hard, there was an open door in front of me. The job is only for a couple of months, but I would gain experience that is needed to upgrade myself to a job outside of retail in the future. It will also provide me with the means to have a bit extra to put aside for a rainy day and to pay on student loans.

I'm not a believer in big miracles. They seldom happen to people like me. However, I do believe in subtle miracles. Like praying, with tears streaming down my face, that my dog would get better. Or praying that my heart be open to accepting the love I deserve. Or believing that I would find the strength to walk away from toxic relationships that drain me. 

Faith looks so different to everybody. I've stumbled in my faith. I've pushed it aside. I've lost the majority of it. I've given up on it for the most part. Did I get the job I wanted? Hell no, but I got the job that would pay my bills each month plus give me a bit extra. It also led to this 2nd job opportunity which will definitely give me a cushion. Did I get the relationship I thought I wanted? Nope, I got something so much better! Has my faith healed my depression and anxiety? No, but it has given me the necessary tools to deal with it. Some days it simply means doing the dishes, taking a shower, and making sure the dog eats which means I eat. 

I'm not sure what your faith looks like to you. Just know that I'm not judging you. You do you and I'll do me. Together we'll make our corners of the world a little brighter, a little better, and a little kinder. However, you first have to start the kindness by being kind to yourself. 

Be humble and kind! Tell me what your faith looks like to you. I love to hear your thoughts and comments.

Have a blessed week!

Angels Unaware...

This year has been a lesson in humility and patience for me. If you've read my sporadic blog posts, you know what I'm talking about. 

I've had to put things on the back burners for the time being and I've been very frustrated. My depression has spun out of control some days. I've scared more than a few of the people who love me most and for that, I am deeply sorry.

My mom sends me her morning devotions on the occasion that she feels they fit my life and are messages I need to hear. Trust me, when I tell you, I cry every single time because they hit so close to home. (Nobody knows you like your mom, I swear!) Most of the time, they are messages about believing, having faith, watering the "good" seeds, and trusting in God. What is always funny is that I've just shared my frustrations or such with someone my mother has never met, yet the next morning is a picture of her devotion with the message that I needed to hear.

Last night, I was at work. I was unpacking panties to put on the display. There are days when I hate working retail, others I'm kinda "meh" about it. Last night was a "meh" day. I got to work with my manager who I simply love working with. We have so much in common and can talk about anything with each other.

Anyway, I was standing at the packing table, unpackaging panties. There were two couples in the store. The older couple were sort of wandering around. I asked if I could help them find anything. The lady assured me that I couldn't and that they were simply there with their daughter and her husband. I went back to sorting and unpacking the panties, joking with my manager. 

The older gentleman came back to have a chat while I stood there. He was a funny man! He told me how he'd been married for 57 years and how his wife keeps him on his toes...his tiptoes. I laughed and his wife swatted him on his backside as she walked through. He went on to tell me that he'd been a store manager for JCPenney's for years. He'd been working in a factory making busses and got laid off. He needed a job so he went to work for JCPenney's. He never wanted to work retail and hated it when he started but learned to love it as he worked his way up to store manager. He said he always feels blessed to have had that opportunity and how God is good. He continued to share how he and his wife had lost a son. Their marriage was not going well and they were at odds with each other. He said that loss hurt so deeply, yet it was essential to the survival of their marriage. The petty troubles fell away as they clung to each other and fixed what was broken. And "Isn't God good?" I took a deep breath and said, "He certainly is." He, then, began to share words from each one of my mother's devotions. How the destination is amazing, but the journey is equally so. How having faith is essential to living. How God has written out every chapter of our lives and He knows how it all comes together to our advantage. He kept telling me, "God is so good." 

His wife and daughter got ready to check out so I handled their transaction. As they prepared to leave, the older gentleman stood at the counter and smiled. "Have faith, child," he said with a twinkle in his very blue eyes. And as he walked out, he turned around, "May God bless you." 

Luckily, the store was slow. I had to excuse myself because this man had touched my heart in a very profound way.

Later on, a woman and her mother came in to shop. The younger woman was looking for a new winter jacket. I assured her that the jacket she was trying on was WAY too big. Turns out that, at the age of 42, she got the surprise of a lifetime...she is pregnant! As we chatted and searched for bras, she shared her concerns for this pregnancy and how things are so different than when she was pregnant 11 years ago. She gives me hope that this particular dream of mine isn't lost yet!

The night wore on and my manager was telling me about a movie she had just watched. "I Can Only Imagine" was the title. I had heard about it, but when she shared the video to the song, I fell apart...again. She understands my heart better than most as we both lost our fathers...our rocks. We spent the evening discussing the men who had raised us. Two very different men from two very different walks of life, but two men who had raised their daughters with love, laughter, and strength. She lost her dad at the tender age of 20 while my loss was 20 years later. However, we each wonder how different our lives would be if they were still with us. Two very different women from two very different walks of life, yet our hearts are drawn together by the love of our daddies.

These things seem to be very important as Christmas approaches...rapidly. Like I said, this year has been one of frustration, humility, and learning patience. My mom tells me that I am working where I am for a reason. After last night, I'm beginning to see that she isn't wrong. 

Things will be crazy in my life for the holidays, but I want to take a moment to thank each and every one of you for walking with me on this journey. From my house to yours, I wish you a very happy holiday season! Blessings and love to you all :) 

Egads...the Holidays!

Today is one of those rare things when you work retail...a day off. I have been through my older blog posts, written a bit of a dream that has been weighing on my mind, and watched some Netflix. It was as I was going through blog posts that I realized that I haven't written one in quite a bit. And with the holidays rapidly approaching, I probably should write out something.

The holidays have always been a rough time for me (and I'm sure many of you as well) since I became an adult. Things just don't mean the same things as they used to. And working in retail gives you a perspective on humans and their perceptions of the holiday season that you cannot unsee. 

Everyone is so worried about spending X amount of dollars or getting the newest and latest gadgets, toys, or games. So few people give gifts from the heart these days. It's not the thought behind the gift anymore, it is all about the price tag. That seriously breaks my heart. After 55 years and 3 productions of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" have we learned nothing?

Jim Carrey's version is by far my favorite, but I'm also a HUGE fan of the Boris Karloff version I watched as a kid. However, I think, for me, the Carrey/Howard production takes the story to a new level, demonstrating the greed that goes along with this time of year. Everyone is trying to outdo each other with Christmas lights, gifts, and family accomplishments. 

Last year I wrote a blog post about the Christmas where my brother drew the cards and I wrote the verse. My mom glued them together and sent them out. Did I realize how poor we were? No! I thought it was a fun collaboration. We got a lot of handmade gifts from Mom and Dad that year. I never gave a thought to the reason we received handmade gifts. There were plenty of presents under the tree and even more love surrounding it. 

A friend of mine posted a question on Facebook the other day. She asked, "What was your favorite Christmas gift that you received when you were a child?" I actually had to think hard on it. Why? Because as I look back, the entire holiday was my gift. Spending time in the kitchen with my mom, my dad hanging out and hand stirring the fudge while singing along with the radio, my brother decorating the cookies as we frosted them. It was the best time of year for me.

I never had the latest styles or the newest technologies, but I don't remember a lot of the gifts I received anyway. Maybe, just maybe, Christmas really doesn't come from a store. It really may be all about the feelings and love that are supposed to come with the season and all year through.

Another Brick in the Wall...

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. 

Judge Ye Not...

I had a blog post all written. I was on my soapbox complaining about people who feel entitled to things they cannot afford. It was a good blog post. Except for one thing...I was not being humble OR kind. I was being sort of bitchy...okay, more than sort of.

 

I'm financially frustrated and it was showing. Someone I love and respect read the blog post, told me that it was really good, then said "However, you tell everyone to be humble and kind to one another, but how is this humble or kind? It's neither of those things. You're judging people based on YOUR measuring stick of ethics, morals, and values. Not everyone can be held to your standards. It's not realistic and, quite frankly, it's not right."

I went back and re-read what I'd written. This person was right! (And I HATE to admit that :) ) I was being mean because they're doing things that I don't agree with. They're not harming anyone. They're not doing anything other than what they believe is right. Do I agree with it? No, but it isn't my place to judge.

See, dear readers, I have a purpose for writing this. I could have simply deleted the blog post that I'd written and called it a day. However, I also vowed from Day One of this blog that I would always show you that I am human, that I hurt, that I make mistakes, and I have flaws. I wasn't going to merely show you the highlight reel. I wanted to show you the bloopers and the really bad shit that hits me from time to time. And sometimes I need a kick in the ass to bring me back to the reality of it all.

So, here I am, telling you how human I really am! My morals, values, and ethics aren't without their flaws, but they belong to me and no one else. They are also not the basis on which I should judge the world. If I did that with everyone in my life, I would be more alone than I ever could imagine.

Because I need to be reminded today, always be humble and kind! You don't know someone else's journey or reasoning behind their actions. Love each other! Show compassion and empathy!  And be good to one another!

Being a Grinch

I want to apologize for not posting much lately. The final weeks of college have been horrendous. I've been focusing hard on getting through finals and not much else has gotten done.

However, let me say, I feeling a little extra "Grinchier" than normal this year. I'm not sure why. I'm not sure there really is a reason. I'm just not feeling the holiday spirit.

I saw a post the other day that spoke to my heart. I wanted to share it with you. And now I can't find it. The gist of it was this: "The Grinch didn't hate Christmas, he hated people." Now, my spin on it is that the Grinch didn't hate people, per se, he hated the greed and meanness that came out of people during the holiday.

I've seen the sweetest people in the world become so horrible and mean to their fellow man during the stress of the holidays. It breaks my heart. 

Maybe this comes from my growing up poor (though I never knew it). So many years, there were handmade gifts under the tree. My mom would sew dresses or new shirts for me. She'd make gifts because money was tight. Sure I wanted the toys that all my friends were asking for, but I knew in my heart I'd never get them and that was more than okay. In a couple of months, their toys would be cast aside because they wanted something different. But even as young as I was, I knew that handmade gifts came from the heart. I knew the love and time that went into each stitch my mom made.

I'm curious as to when Christmas stops being about stuff and becomes about loving one another. Remember how at the end of How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the Whos remember what Christmas is truly about? It's about family, friends, community, and loving one another. 

I avoid the stores, if at all possible, so I don't have to deal with the worst in humanity. After all, at the end of my day, I really do want to like people. And some day maybe I'll shed my Grinchy green fur and allow my cold black heart to grow 3 sizes bigger.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Today, class, we're going to talk about respect. There are people who just don't understand what respect means.

Respect is defined as: "a feeling of deep admiration for someone or something elicited by their abilities, qualities, or achievements."

If you've read my blog posts before, you know I am a big believer in respect. I don't care if you are a doctor or the cashier at my gas station, you deserve my respect. Why? Because you are a human being, who is doing their job, which is in some way or other in service to me.

I've been talked down to, made to feel like I was stupid, and treated like a second (in some cases, third) class citizen. For too many years, I was a housewife. I kept our home. I was called "a gold digger", "lazy", "drain on society", etc. I divorced and work in a not so different field these days...I'm a caregiver. I go into people's homes and cook their meals, clean their homes, do their laundry, etc. No matter their difficulties, I always treat my clients with respect. I don't know all of their back stories and how they came to need someone like me, but if they are calling on me for help, their lives took a much different turn than they imagined it would. However...the first time, you talk down to me as if you are more knowledgeable of things or are smarter than me, I will shut you down. I may not have a college degree, but I'm working on it. I may not have a nice house, but I'm working on it. What makes you so much better than me? I'm curious. Because you made all the right decisions and lived life the way you were "supposed to"?

My grandma always told me "People in glass houses shouldn't walk around nude or throw stones." I find that to be true. I have clients who have opened up to me after being very haughty with me. What have I discovered? You, too, hath fucked up! You may not have made the same mistakes I've made, but you have made mistakes that led you to places you never wanted to be.

Do you think I WANTED to be divorced and a college student at my age? Hardly, but I can tell you that I'm happy with my choices. Being in college at my age isn't easy, by any means, but I love it! The introvert in me loves watching the people interact with each other on campus. The student in me feels starved for the education. And the woman in me, well, she loves it when she catches a certain man's eye and he tells her that he thinks she's 10-15 years younger than she is. (What? I'm a bit vain, I'll admit it!) And standing on my own? It's an incredible feeling! I feel empowered for the first time in my life! I don't mind my job, but I don't want to stay in it forever. There's so much more to explore and do!

While respect is something that can be earned, it is also something that should be given. That cashier at the gas station? He may be working on his degree at night while being a single dad. That doctor? She may have worked her butt off to get a 2.0 in her pre-med which barely eked her into the medical program at her college. You don't know the whole story behind why someone is doing the job they're doing. That janitor you made fun of in high school may have owned his own company, but lost it when times got tough. He/She took the only job they could get to put food on their family's table. Let that sink in for a moment. We are all simply one decision away from being at the low end of the totem pole.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T: An easy concept to understand; a difficult one to incorporate.

And because this seems to be the appropriate song for this post:

Fighting the Urge to Rage

I was outside with Diesel tonight and I saw a woman drive past, wiping her eyes. I thought, "I wonder what she's upset about. A family member's illness or death? Did she get some bad news of her own?" It caused me to take pause and think about my own life.

See, I've been thinking about hellos and goodbyes a lot recently. This led me to think about the nights I would be driving to and from work on the highway. Some nights, the traffic was light. Others not so much. As a writer, my mind drifts to the people I'm sharing the road with. The couple who are arguing while driving somewhere with their kids. The gorgeous man who races past me on his motorcycle. The single woman with insane colors in her hair, dancing and singing in her truck. (Okay, that one is me, but I'm sure people think I'm nuts.)What are these people's stories?

We've all raged at the drivers who fly past us as if they're the only ones on the road. However, have you ever thought about why they're in a hurry? Maybe they are on the way to the hospital because a loved one was in an accident. Maybe there's been a death. Maybe they're on their way to the airport to greet a loved one who has been away. Even the slow drivers have a story. I'm not saying these are excuses for reckless driving, but how would you feel if your spouse or child was returning after being at war? Would you drive calmly with no hint of excitement? Or would you unconsciously lower the gas pedal to the floor in your haste to get them in your arms again? I know my answer.

I find myself doing the same thing in the store. Doesn't mean I don't get frustrated, just means I wonder about people's stories. What is in the text message that made that woman smile so brightly? What did that woman whisper to her man that has him walking off with a smirk on his face? What is so wrong with their relationship that a man is calling his wife names? I'm an odd duck that way.

My grandma used to take a drive into town (when she still drove) and she would park on Main Street to watch the people. I used to think she was nosy, but that wasn't it at all. She simply wondered about their stories.

So, the next time you get cut off in traffic or you see a frazzled person who is barely keeping it together, think for a moment: I wonder what is happening in their life. I'm not saying there aren't assholes everywhere, but not everyone is covered under that umbrella. That woman who is crying at the stoplight may have just kissed her husband/boyfriend/partner goodbye and she's not sure when/if she'll see them again...or she may have heard a sad song on the radio that triggered her emotions. And if you see that she has crazy colors in her hair AND you're in Wisconsin...roll your window down and say "Hi!" I'm not crazy, I promise...my mama had me tested!

Always Be Humble and Kind

This song has been resonating through my life lately. I liked it alright when it was first released, but it wasn't one of my favorites. However...the words are so important.

These aren't things we should have to think about every day. It should be a simple part of human nature. However, so many people aren't taught these lessons as they grow up. And if they are taught those things, they forget them as they age.

Humility is simple. You don't need to brag about the good things you do or how good you are at something. You just do it. There was a very crude comedian who spoke about how people are so quick to talk about their good deeds. He said that just because someone doesn't step forward and demand a pat on the back, that doesn't mean they aren't doing good things. They just do it and don't expect to be applauded for it. It makes me think of all the volunteers and people who work behind the scenes of organizations, but the CEOs are the ones who get the rounds of applause.

And kindness...well, that is just something not many people practice. People are so concerned about themselves and where they are going.They look at a mother with 5 kids, who are dirty and unkempt, and think she must be a horrible mom. They don't see the woman who just got off work, picked her kids up from their grandmother's where they made mudpies, then remembered that she needed to pick up food for dinner and didn't have time to take the kids home to change. They see a woman using food stamps to pay for her groceries, but has her nails done, is wearing designer clothes, and has the latest iPhone.  They aren't seeing that she is a single mom because her sister is in prison and she has custody of 3 kids she wasn't planning on raising. Her designer clothes came from the closet at the local woman's shelter so she could go on an interview for a better job. Her manicure is done at home and the iPhone is a gift from a friend who knows she needs to be able to be contacted in case of an emergency. People miss these things.

What should be simple things to offer others are the hardest because we judge people so harshly. You don't know everyone's story, their history, or their reasoning. I was always told that people in glass houses shouldn't throw rocks or walk around naked. Unless your record is spotless and you have never done wrong, then you definitely shouldn't be judging someone else. 

I find myself making snap judgments on people, then saying, "Gemma, humble and kind." If you look at people and situations through a different lens, you may just find that the world isn't quite as bad as media, politicians, or others would have you believe.

Words to the wise: Always take a breath before judging another. After all, unless you have walked in their shoes on the exact same journey, you have no idea of how a person became the person they are or why they make the decisions they do.