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!

Suicide Awareness Month

September is Suicide Awareness Month, in case you didn't know. Not a lot of attention is brought to it because, let's face it, this is still a very hard subject to discuss. It isn't a commonly talked about topic and, in truthfulness and my opinion, we need to destroy the stigma around it. I'm just as guilty of this as anyone so today I'm opening up my world to allow you to peek inside.

If you know anything about me, then you know our veterans are very dear to me. I have loved many in this lifetime and I'm honored to call many of them my friends. According to the VA, there is an average of 20.6 suicides amongst this group. DAILY! And while these numbers include active service members, it still is 20.6 too many. I'm the daughter of a Vietnam veteran. This used to be a very real part of my daily life...keeping my dad here for as long as I could. Some days were easy, others not so much. My dad saw war and did things of which he was not proud. These things weighed on his soul. Watching it wear away at him was not something I'd wish on anyone. With the other veterans I love, I can see the hauntings in their eyes some days. It is terrifying to think of losing any of them. Fortunately, my dad didn't die by suicide, at least not in the conventional sense, he drank himself to death while those around him watched it happen. 

My grandpa, however, did. My grandpa was one of the strongest people I knew. One day, something just snapped and he took his own life. Devastated doesn't even begin to express how we all felt.  Shocked. Surprised. Puzzled. Looking back at the events that led to that horrific day, I understand how that was the route that he took. He'd watched the two women he had loved in this life die. He'd had some health issues that led to him having dietary restrictions. Friends had died. He was taking sleeping pills in order to sleep at night. Grandkids had grown up and had lives of their own. I think he felt alone and I truly understand why he chose to leave on his terms.

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered this on more than one occasion. Life has been difficult and some days I just get tired of it all. My depression rides me hard and I struggle to breathe when that happens. On those days, I wonder if anyone would miss me if I was gone. Then, I think of those I love and fight through it. I really do want to see where this life takes me. So far the journey has had a lot of twists and turns. But in the midst of it all, it is a battle that I wonder if I can win. A friend once told me "When it is the darkest, reach out your hand and you'll find someone reaching back for you." So, that's what I do. And I hold on for dear life!

Suicide should not be viewed as a weakness or a sin. It merely is. In this world, it is an inevitable thing with which most of us will have dealings. We need to have conversations with our children, our friends, our family members, and even acquaintances. Removing the stigma around mental illness would help. Teaching our children that bullying is NOT okay would help. Recognizing the signs of depression would help. There is help out there. It needs to be more accessible to people.

And in case you need to hear it today, you are a beloved and cherished part of this universe. You are uniquely you and nobody can be a better you than you! Hold on, it will get better! If you feel like you've lost all hope, reach into the darkness and find that hand reaching back for you. 

"Where Were You?"

This is the question of the day, am I right? We have children who have no recollection of the events of 9-11 and the question is being asked almost everywhere.

This is the same question I remember asking my parents when I was in high school, studying the assassination of President Kennedy. Both of them told me exactly where they were, what they were wearing, how they felt, and the reactions of those people around them. I never dreamed I'd have a day like that in my lifetime.

I lived on Long Island for a little bit in 1990. I made friends there. I met firemen and police officers there. So, my reaction was a bit different from other people who lived in my small Michigan town. 

I was actually still in bed when the radio kicked on to tell us that a plane had hit the Twin Towers. I thought "What a sick fucking joke! This is cruel and ridiculous!" However, I got up and turned on the Today show...after all, Katie Couric wasn't going to lie to me. As I tuned in, the second plane hit and my heart broke. Did I have people I knew and cared about in those towers? I didn't know, but these were my fellow men and women. These people were someone's children, parents, siblings, significant others, and the world became so much smaller to me. I woke up my ex-husband who reluctantly got up and came into the living room to watch the world fall apart. We stayed glued to the television all day long except for when we had to walk the dogs. The disbelief of this tragedy flooded my mind.

We lived on a pretty busy highway, but everything went silent. There was no traffic. The night sky, usually alight with planes, was completely dark except for the stars. It was eerie how silent everything became. We pulled our mattress into the living room and slept on the floor in front of the television that was on 24 hours a day. Life as we knew it was changing and changing fast. 

As I look back on the events of 9-11 and the weeks that followed, hearing the stories of survivors and family members reminded me that love still exists in this world. My favorite line from Love Actually makes reference to this: 

So, I guess that is something I will carry with me for the rest of my life. I may have been living in a small town in Michigan, watching the news and praying for the people I knew and cared about and even those I'd never met. But it was the way the humans on this planet came together in love and compassion that will remain ingrained in my memory. In this day and age, those are two things that are in extremely short supply.

Who You Are...

Do you know the exact moment it happened? The very moment that you became the person you are? Do you know when it occurred? 

I believe we are always evolving and changing, but I also knew the moment where I became the woman I am...the very core of who I am.

It was a difficult day and I knew there would be no return to who I had been. The day when I had the rose-colored glasses yanked off my eyes and I saw the world as it was. It was the day when I realized that come what may in my life, I'd never face a moment like this one again. Nothing as difficult as this moment.

I remember the smell of the office, the feel of the table under my fingers, the way my breath caught and my heart broke, and the rage I felt at the very kind man who was doing his best to help a broken-hearted woman. I can't imagine doing his job on a daily basis!

It wasn't the day I found messages from my now ex-husband to another woman. It wasn't the night I got the phone call telling me my dad had passed away. It happened while I was sitting in a conference room in lower Michigan, attempting to find a way to honor the man I loved more than life itself. The day I had to plan my dad's cremation.

I looked at the man sitting beside me, who knew the pain I was experiencing. Yet, I knew this is where our journey together ended. No matter what happened from this moment on, I was walking this path without him. I wasn't just dealing with the death of my father, but the death of my marriage as well. The other man sitting with me wanted to help in every way, shape, and form to make this as easy as possible. He took notes and wrote down the things that came out of my mouth. Unfortunately, he didn't do my father justice. I had intended to write my dad's obituary myself, but I just couldn't.

That day I knew I was stronger than I ever imagined I could be. I didn't need the man who was holding my hand, trying to console me. I was on my own! The one person I had relied on from the beginning was gone and, from here on out, I was never going to be the same person. 

And I'm not. I'm strong. I'm standing on my own two feet. I'm not sure I'd recognize the woman I was before. I'm pretty certain she and I wouldn't have been friends. This new and improved version is walking barefoot along this stone path, relishing the calluses that have formed. The softness and naivete are gone. The uncertainty has disappeared. There is a sureness in each stride. Confidence is a more consistent friend. 

Maybe I needed this day to happen. I miss my dad dearly every day! However, if I hadn't had to plan his cremation, I wouldn't be where I am. I would still be stuck in a place I didn't want to be in. And I really love where I am at this moment! 

From My Point of View...

How many times have you been somewhere and you notice that one person sitting by themselves? They may have an electronic device of some sort in front of them, ear buds in and zoned out to the rest of the world. How many times have you felt sorry for them for being alone? How many times have you thought, "Oh, that poor person has no one to eat with/talk to/be with."? Have you ever thought, "Wow! How amazing is that?" Probably not. I know I never did...until I became aware of the fact that I AM that person.

Let me tell you what it is like to be the heavy girl who sits alone:

The chaos of school was always too much for me so I'd go to the library for the silence. I had friends. Hell, I had some of the best friends in the world, but I needed the silence to cope. I could fall into the world of whatever I was reading and forget that I was a heavy set high school girl with no boyfriend, no date on Friday night, who had to work for the extras she wanted in life. Some days I was Scarlett O'Hara. Other days, I was on the mission to solve the crime in a Victoria Holt novel.

Yep, this is actually me in high school.

As an adult, it is a wonder I ever married, to be honest. I married someone whom a friend had set me up with. We'd known each other since elementary school. I sat alone in our home most days and nights. I didn't want to go out and the idea of socializing was too much for me to handle. I could hang out with my family, but that was the extent of it. The world was too loud for me.

After my divorce, I moved in with my best friend. We went out a lot and he had his brother over...a lot! But, looking back, I can tell you that I was happiest when it was just us, hanging out and talking. We didn't exactly hang out with a quiet crowd and the emotions were more than I could handle. I drank too much and felt miserable more often than I would admit to him. And when his brother was here...OMG, he never quit talking! It was amusing and intelligent, but I was exhausted when he'd go home.

Going to college is even more stressful, let me tell you. I'm the woman who is an hour early to class so that she can pop in her earbuds and simply zone out. I need to do this in order to deal, in order to get my mind focused, to keep myself centered, and, yeah, sometimes to shut the world out. If I take my earbuds out to acknowledge you, then please understand that you are special! That you matter enough to me that I want to hear what you have to say and to share my world with you!

Every seat was filled an hour later!

I'm not just the fat girl with mulit-colored hair who is anti-social or has no friends. I'm the woman who needs to enjoy the silence and not listen to the cacophony of noises that fill the world. I tend to feel too much so I need the music to calm my heart and mind. IF I let you into my space, it is because I think you are worthy of that space. My world is overcrowded with people who demand of me. If you take the time to stop and say, "Hello" or ask how I am, that means (at least to me) that for some ungodly reason, you want to get to know me. And while that is terrifying, I'll let you in to my space. Who knows? I might not notice as you ease your way into my life to become a friend...or maybe the one I could love forever.

I'm an introvert of epic proportions which is why being an author seems to be the best fit for me. I can sit alone in my home and write away about worlds that I only dream of being a part of. I only need to socialize through social media and I can be in the silence. Unfortunately, the bills have to be paid and that requires me to step out into the world. A place full of noises, people, and feelings. A place that overwhelms me on my best days. On my worst, I suck it up until I'm in the privacy of my own home, then, I fall apart. I shake and cry under the warm spray of the shower. On my worst days, I have panic attacks and have to walk out of class.

So, the next time you see someone sitting alone with earbuds in, understand that this might be their way of coping with the world around them. And understand that if you decide to say "Hello", that you may just find your new best friend...or the love of your lifetime.

Little Girl, Big Dreams Lost

My mom sent me this the other day:

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!

Fighting the Fear

   

                                                       


I hate to admit it, but I am scared. I am fearful of so many things and I allow them to hold me back. Being insecure is part of my comfort zone. Being insecure is all I've ever known. I meet people with confidence and think, "Wow! How awesome are they?" But to be confident, I'd have to believe I am good at something, that I have something to offer the world, that I matter. And I'm aware that for my life to begin means that I have to step outside of my comfort zone.

I'm scared of failure which I allow to keep me from writing. If I don't write, then I can't fail, right? WRONG!! I'm failing myself by not trying. I'm aware of all of this. However, with my depression weighing on me like a Mack truck, I just wanna throw in the towel. Instead, I write my blog posts. I put all of my feelings out into the universe and release them. I am hoping that my scattered and random thoughts will make sense to the people who need to know they're not alone.

I get up every day and go through the motions of my life. Walk and feed the dog, shower, eat, get dressed, go to work, go home, walk and feed dog, eat, crawl into bed, talk to my sister, and pray sleep comes easily. Some days, I go to bed laughing. Others, I cry until I'm exhausted. And the rest? Well,I allow my brain to run wild and tell me all sorts of horrible things. 

I chuckle as I write this because I have so many people fooled. If you met me on the street, you wouldn't believe that I'm the woman I am. You'd see my smile and think "She's so confident." We'd speak and you'd say to yourself, "She's so friendly." You may overhear a conversation with someone I know and think "She sounds so funny and intelligent." But it is the fear that you are missing.

You're not seeing the fact that it took me two hours to work up the courage to leave the house. You don't notice the white knuckles as I cling to my keys. You've missed the routine of parking in front of the store so I don't have to interact with many people. You don't see the fear behind the smile and the thought process of "Please don't let anyone talk to me!" And gods forbid if someone should reach out to touch me! 

I was in a math class in college two semesters ago. I chose to sit in the back of the class, in the far corner. My nose was in my book. My earbuds securely in my ears until class started. I was getting in my zone. Then, HE walked in. You know, the one guy who has a smile on his face constantly and has such a charismatic personality that you can't help but smile back? Yeah, I got that one. He'd walk into class everyday and he'd want to chat. Being the only other person in class, we'd visit. Then, he did the one thing no one does...he put his hand on my knee and squeezed. Inside, I was losing my shit. Outside, he saw nothing wrong. This continued until I grew used to his touch, then he took my hand. He'd hold it for a brief moment. He always had his hands near mine, fiddling with my binder, twirling my pencil, just being the outgoing man he is. One day, he walk into class, borrowed my notes, returned them and he hugged me! And all the negative thoughts, the panic attack, the "oh gods, he's touching me" thoughts went silent. He just held on. Tightly. I hugged him back and attempted to let go. He did the one thing I never dreamed would happen to me...he held on when I tried to let go. I worked so hard to keep my shit together. I was close to a panic attack, but I didn't have one...until later. I went home from class that day and cried. A panic attack set in when I realized what had happened...I let someone get close enough to feel the rolls of fat on my body, to smell the essential oils I wear as perfume, to smell my shampoo, to notice my breasts aren't perky and perfect. I was petrified that this man would touch me again (and he did...a lot!!!!). He was constantly touching. This was hard for me because I am a person who CRAVES touch. That physical brush of skin against skin, body across body...I yearn for it, but to have a complete stranger (and a beautiful one at that) reach for me first was both amazing and terrifying. 

I am aware that I have lost weight over the last two years. I buy clothes that fit me now and look nice. I don't buy muumuus and large patterned items. I don't dress in all black anymore. Stretch pants and yoga pants are for home use only. I wear jeans and skirts, bright colors, things that reveal and show off my assets. I'm very proud of myself...however, I am still overweight. 

I fear standing out. I don't want people to notice me, but they do anyway. I scurry along the sides of a room like those furry spawns of Satan I hate so much (mice). When someone speaks to me, I often find myself looking around as if I'm thinking "Are you talking to me? Why are you talking to me? Why do you think I should speak? "

I'm scared to allow my voice to be heard. I don't want people to look at me and think "How stupid!" I know I have a brain and common sense. I don't consider myself intelligent though the man from math class thinks I'm smart! 

I'm on a college campus of about 4,000 students on a somewhat daily basis and I rarely speak to anyone. I sit in class with my mouth tightly shut (unless I'm called on) and take notes. Every semester, I will have 1 or 2 people I will speak to on a regular basis, but once the semester is over, I don't talk to them again. In this electronic age, I am more content to keep my earbuds in and my nose in a book for fear of people thinking that I'm too old, too fat, too stupid, too something, to be there.

However, I'm trying. Mr. Charismatic Math Man has me talking to so many different people that I have no choice but to interact. In fact, because of him, I may have made a friend (or two) who I actually text from time to time. I owe this man a debt of gratitude and maybe a plate of cookies.

Follow the Yellow Brick Road

Do you ever feel like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz? Picked up and set down in a strange place? Having to deal with things and people who are unfamiliar? Yeah? Well, welcome to my world!

I've been thinking a lot about my life's path lately. From day one, I was destined for the weird and unusual. My life's path has led me down many darkened lanes, into a few Forbidden forests, and I've met some people I never dreamed I'd meet. I wouldn't change it for the world because it has led me to this place and this moment.

I've lost people on this path. Either their paths ended while mine continued on or they took an exit to a different path. However it went, I trust they are doing okay wherever they are.

I've learned a lot about myself on this journey. Funny enough, it's the darkest times when the road isn't nearly as golden that I have found my strength. And it seems as if I'm buried in darkness at the moment. I'm in over my head and I feel like I'm wandering around this path that keeps leading me in circles. Which means I've got to learn something before I get the see the rest of my path. But what am I supposed to learn? I'm jaded and I don't trust very easily. The people I trust the most, let me down more often than not. Is that my fault for trusting them or expecting too much of them? Or is it just human nature that people will let you down? I've found my faith waning and my faith in people is almost non existent. Maybe that is my lesson: Trust when times are toughest not merely when the road is easy.

Lately, my road is filled with dead-ends and I have to re-trace my steps in the hopes of finding my way back. When I do that, I run into the same people and I lose my heart again, only to have it handed back to me, bleeding, battered, and broken. What lesson should I be learning here? I'm guessing I need to hang onto my heart and not give it away. Either that or I need to be more careful with who I let hold my heart in his hands. I don't know anymore. My doubts overrun my mind most days and I wonder if I'm doing anything right.

I sat down to watch one of my favorite movies the other day, We Bought a Zoo. It has been in my DVD player for over a week and I play it every chance I get. Why? Because it speaks to me. It's about a man who takes a chance and risks it all. At one point, Benjamin Mees (played by Matt Damon) asks his daughter, "Rosie, am I doing anything right?" I have been tearing up at that line every time. I'm to the point where I'm asking Diesel, "Am I doing anything right?" He just sighs and rolls over to continue his nap. Benjamin also tells how "it only take 20 seconds of intense courage" to change your life. A mere 20 seconds!!!! Can you just imagine? Over two years ago, a man had 20 seconds of intense courage when he said hello to a woman he had never met. We became friends and our lives changed. For the better? If you talk to either of us separately, we'd probably say not always. We've ended up in a place where neither one of us is happy and depression is our ruler.

I think this is because we've stepped off our yellow brick road and tried to do things without the other. I maybe wrong. I wonder if my yellow brick road has just run out of yellow so I need to just make my own path. Stay tuned!!! I'm off in search of my ruby slippers and I sure as hell ain't carrying my version of Toto in a basket. I've met a couple of witches, more than one flying monkey, the Tin-Man, the Scarecrow, and the Cowardly Lion. I think it may be time to lay down and take a nap in that lovely field of poppies I see ahead. Just long enough to get myself together and find the next step on my path.

After the Fall...

Yesterday was the day where I didn't feel like getting out of bed or going to class. I forced myself...okay, I'll be honest here, Diesel forced me to get up. My depression was at an all time low. I felt unloved, unwanted, unworthy, and unneeded.

Well, Diesel fixed one of those for me. He definitely needed me...to run him outside for his potty, to feed him, to change his water, and to get out of "his" bed. 

I figured since I was up and had to go to classes. I was doubting so much about myself: not sure if I even belong in the academic world anymore. Questioning myself, my decisions, and my abilities to actually do this. I sat in Journalism and texted my best friend all during class, tears streaming down my cheeks because I hurt so badly. 

Something I should explain...I told him that I didn't think he truly had my back (a promise we had made to each other...we'd always have each other's back). I hurt him. I pissed him off. And you know why? Because for the last two years, he's ALWAYS been the one to have my back...ALWAYS!!!!! I hurt him and I hurt because of it. I love this man so much and I promised I would never hurt him. 

I made it to my Women's Studies class and I have NO idea what we discussed. My mind and heart were on the text messages exchanged previously. But I reached some clarity...I was the one who didn't have HIS back. In the midst of all the drama, I let him down. I was acting like a spoiled brat who wanted what she wanted when she wanted it and how she wanted it. I never once gave thought to how he must feel, what he must be struggling with, what I could do to help him. Instead, I felt sorry for ME!

He came for dinner last night before his late class. He gave me more of his time than I deserved, to be honest. We laughed. I cried. We straightened out the mess that was created when people text message. (Trust me, if you need to say something important, DON'T TEXT IT!!! Instead call the person so they can hear the emotion in your voice. How you might mean something to sound isn't revealed through text and your meaning can be taken all wrong.) I apologized for acting like a spoiled ass brat. He gave me this look that only he can give me and said "Never once have I thought you were spoiled." (Did I ever mention how perfectly imperfect he is?) For the record, he also said he's never thought I was an ass or a bitch. LOL When he left, I felt more loved, wanted, and worthy than I'd felt in a while. I am hoping he can say the same thing.

This little bump in the road made me realize just how much I take for granted, including him. See, I love him dearly. He's been there for the roughest two years and he's stuck around. Why? I have no idea, but he's here. He has been my rock, my soul, my friend, my partner, my shoulder, my safe place, my laughter, and my heartbeat. When I say that he is the reason my world turns, I am not lying. He's kept me moving forward with only occasional glances backward. He's taught me so much more than he can ever realize...one lesson I'm learning now is that I'm strong. I need to be...he deserves a much better person to walk beside him on this journey than I've been lately.

So, I've written a bit today. I've applied for jobs. I've looked at places for Diesel and I to live. And I'm making a plan...summer classes which will ease me right into the fall semester which will lead me up to a spring graduation with a bachelor's degree, if I plan it all right. It's going to take some time and hard work, but I can do this. But most of all, I am making a commitment to be the friend my best friend deserves. One who doesn't see him as her be all end all, but as the one who is willing to walk through fire for him, to crawl across molten glass to ease his pain, to die for him, if he needs her to...you know? The kind of friend he has been to me.

After the fall...I've found that I'm the exact person I was trying so hard to not become, but I can fix me. I'm the only one who can.

I've Been Thinking...

I know that thought scares most of you who know me. Thinking means this Gemini is either bored and looking for trouble or she's stalling. Actually, I'm neither. 

A friend of mine posted a thought on Facebook today and she got me thinking. Her question went along the lines of; "How does your idea of happiness in your twenties differ from your idea of happiness now?" (Thank you, Liane!) This really started my mind working overtime.

My idea of happiness when I was twenty involved a home, husband, and children. My idea of happiness now? Well, not those things. I had a husband, I no longer do. My children have all been four-legged and furry. And I've made a home out of the most I've had. Now, my happiness is slightly different. Happiness now involves sharing a single bed with a 170 lb. dog who steals as much of my bed as he can throughout the night. Spending my days studying and my nights writing. "Playing" with my best friend and enjoying this lifestyle we are exploring. Hanging out, watching movies, and eating deep-dish pizza. Laughing with my little sisters or best friend and his brothers. Cooking breakfast for my best friend and hearing him say, "This is the best one yet!" Knowing I am appreciated and loved every single day. Knowing that my studies are leading me to the career where I can make a difference in this world. Realizing that my stories are being read by people and people are loving them. 

Puppy kisses and sharing the bed with this guy...priceless!

My idea of happiness and success are so vastly different that they used to be! In many ways, this has to do with the changes I've made over the last year. In so many others, well, they have to do with my best friend and the way he has showed me how to use different lenses to look at things. He is slowly changing my pessimistic ways...the glass isn't always half-empty anymore. Sometimes it is half-full. Other times, there is simply water in the glass and I need to be grateful. Whether it is half-filled or only a swallow, I need to be happy with the fact that at least I have water in said glass.

So tell me...has your idea of happiness changed over the years? I want to hear your thoughts!

Learning To Fly

Unless I'm talking about a specific event, you won't often find me posting random thoughts about my childhood. Why? It was a great childhood and I was basically a happy kid, I just prefer to look forward instead of back.

Today, however, I'm going to tell you a bit about me. I grew up on the family dairy farm in southern Michigan. My dad helped my grandparents run it until Dad and Mom took it over in 1977-78. We lived in the farmhouse. Up the hill from me lived my aunt and uncle plus two cousins. My grandparents were literally a hill and a cornfield away. I was the only girl and everyone was certain I would be a girly-girl...growing up with two older boy cousins? Really? Okay, I love dresses and lace much better than I used to, my hair is colored and my nails are always painted, and pink may be more of a favorite color now than ever before. But you will still find me in jeans and t-shirts most day, my Carhartt jacket is a must have, and there is a camouflage baseball hat hanging on the coat hooks just inside my front door.

Okay, enough reminiscing. I am telling you this to show you how I was never what anyone expected me to be. I have never met anyone's expectations of who I am which made me very sad. It was this last year when I was able to step out of the shadow of everyone's expectations and simply realize who I am. It has taken a lot of help on other people's parts to pull me out, but I feel more alive at 42 than I ever did at 22. I am certainly happier now than ever before.

I wrote this a while ago, but I wanted to share it with you all here:

The Girl Who Dared

Once upon a time, there was a girl who dared.

She dared to dream in bright, vivid colors.

She dared to believe that she could climb mountains and touch the sky.

She dared to try anything and showed no fear.

She dared to soar on the wings of eagles.

She dared to march to her own music.

She dared to dance like no one was watching.

She dared to sing like no one was listening.

She dared to pour her soul into her stories.

She dared to believe in the impossible.

She dared to imagine.

She dared to care so deeply about others that she forgot to care just as deeply about herself.

She dared to live with no regrets.

She dared to fall in love every chance she got.

She dared to dream of possibilities.

She dared to be different.

She dared to believe in a love that would be passionate, romantic, and all consuming.

She dared to be a woman who would LIVE.

Then, one day, something happened…she stopped daring. Instead, she grew up and stopped believing she could do any of the things she wanted to do. She stopped living the life she wanted…she didn’t thrive…she merely survived in a world that was cold and uncaring. The world didn’t believe in her and didn’t care if she dared to live her life. The little girl inside the woman curled into a ball and went into a sleep that was quite like death.

One day, the woman realized that the little girl who lived inside of her had the right idea. The woman attempted with all of her might to wake the little girl up…she tried everything she could. The woman had an idea…she whispered in the little girl’s ear “I dare you to live.” The little girl opened her sleepy green eyes with a wicked grin and said, “I dare you right back.” The woman’s grin matched the sleepy child’s as she said, “Welcome back, baby.” Together, the woman and little girl dared to live.

©GemmaKMurray2014

Tomorrow I will be promoting The Golden Dragon's Treasure all day on my friend's, Virginia Nelson, website. Stop over and say hello! I can't wait to see you there!

Riding this Rollercoaster

With all of the upcoming changes, including a very big move, I've made a few decisions. The most important was to discontinue the Cedar River Series fan page. I just don't have time to keep up with all of it, go to school, go to work, write, and have a semblance of a life. I'm sorry if that disappoints any of you, but you will still be able to interact with the characters and see their pictures on my author page. I'm trying to keep that going so that you can keep up with what is happening.
Another decision is to "fix" Brady and Silver's story. It's been through the editing process, but I really just don't like this story. It needs something...maybe a little magick, maybe a bit more passion, I'm just not sure yet. Because I'm self-publishing this one, I really hate to put out a book that a) I hate and b) something that isn't up to standard. I have people helping me find the missing heart to this story...people who love these characters as much as you do.
As mentioned above, I am currently in the middle of a big move. The apartment is rented. Most of my things are moved in...all except a few odds and ends, Diesel, and me :)

This boy is my life and his comfort is above and beyond all else my main focus. He's always been a country pup with room to roam and very few neighbors. For the last month, his world has changed by leaps and bounds. His dad moved away. Mom's best friend came to pick up our things and take them away. Mom and Diesel were forced to move in with friends, 3 dogs, 3 cats and 2 teenagers. Now, Mom is moving Diesel into a city apartment with a huge park down the street with her best friend. There are going to be all of these new people flooding into his life and a new way of living that I'm hoping doesn't overwhelm him. Luckily, he's a Mastiff...pretty laid back, roll with the flow.

I'm going to be able to post more once I have my schedule figured out and I can keep you up to date on life, books, characters, and maybe even start bringing my author friends by to visit again.

Thank you for being patient with me as my life evolves into this amazing thing that I simply can't get enough of! This roller coaster is slowing down slightly...just not sure if I'm ready to step off this ride yet :) I'm having a ball!!! Maybe you will bring a new friend or two along for the adventure?

And the World Keeps On Spinning

I promised that this year would be one of changes. I never dreamed that it would mean the changes that are going on. I mean, I knew I would be making changes within myself. There were some shifts that needed to be made. There were some physical changes that needed to happen, too, but I never dreamed of some of the things that are happening would happen.

I finished my classes, got accepted into the college I wanted, and made plans. Then, a friend told me to check into the same program at a different campus. I applied, got in, and made plans...again. Then, my best friend asked me to be his roommate. I get to spend the next 3 years with my best friend. How much fun is this going to be? I mean, seriously. How awesome is it to spend time with the one person who knows every little secret you have, knows how to make you smile when you're down, and brings out the goofiness that resides deep inside of you?

Then, my world went to shit..sorta. The divorce papers were filed and all was well. We were determined to part as friends and so far, so good. The divorce will be final on Monday. And that is okay. But we were on the brink of eviction from our rental and our electric was in danger of being shut off. I was able to keep the power on, but the eviction? Not gonna get any help with that. So, the ex-husband moved out and I packed up the last 20+ years of memories and things. With a more than a little help from my best friend, we got the things out of the house, ready to start a new beginning elsewhere.

For two weeks, I've been living with a friend and her family because I had nowhere to live. I'm lucky I have friends. I really am! I'm working a job that I really do love. I'm not a fan of third shift, but that all changes in about 2 weeks when Diesel and I make the move to a different town, a different state, a brand new home. 

You see? An author's life isn't all glamour, champagne, conventions, and the easy life. In fact, few authors I know have that sort of life.

I just wanted to let you know that I'm alive, well, and busy as hell. I'm writing when I have the time which isn't often, but I'm trying. Cedar River is alive as well. The new series are coming along at a snail's pace, but coming along. I haven't forgotten about you. Life has just gone crazy. Yet, the world keeps spinning. The world doesn't stop because your life goes to shit or your heart breaks or your world shatters. Life goes on and the world keeps spinning.

Love and blessings to all of you!

Life's Wicked Curve Ball

I owe all of you the deepest of apologies! My life has been in an upheaval and I'm trying to straighten it all out while keeping my sanity.

My marriage of 20 years has ended. No sympathies, please, this was a mutual decision and we're both okay with it all. Our journey through this life together has come to an end and we intend to stay as friendly as we can. There are a few hard feelings, but we're dealing with them. 

This means that while I love to write and put books out for all of you, I had to get a job that pays on a steady basis. I'm working steady and still going to school full-time. I've decided that I really want to be a teacher so I'm studying elementary education along with minoring in English and Women's Studies. 

I have the edits for the third book sitting on my computer. I just need to find time to go through it with a fine-tooth comb. I had the intention of putting this book out before the year's end. I just couldn't do it, not with everything happening.

The stress also has me taking a break from writing for a little bit. I have discovered that I cannot do everything at once. So, I'm doing what I can which right now entails working, school, and working on finding a place to live.

I ask you to bear with me as my life keeps evolving and growing into something beautiful and wonderful.

I'm going to try and keep you up to date more often, I promise. 

My love to each and every one of you!!!

Music Soothes the Writer's Soul

Music has been a huge part of my life. From singing along with the radio to dancing with my dad in our kitchen, music feeds me in a way other things can not.

I have a pretty eclectic choice of music going on most days. From Southern Rock to Latin and Celtic music to rock and classic rock, it depends on the day and my mood. My Youtube playlist would scare most people with the odd and random music you can find there. 

As most of you know, there are changes coming this year. Some are very hard and personal. Others are professional. I'm trying my hand at writing all sorts of new things. One of the things I just started is a horror. Let me tell you, I had to find the darkest depths of my soul to go there. It required me turning to music I probably wouldn't normally listen to and reaching for the darkness. The story is draining me, but it is something that needs to be written so it doesn't continue to haunt me as it has for the last 10 years.

When I was finished writing for the day, I had to curl up with Michael Buble, Christ Botti, and Celtic Thunder in the hopes of bringing myself back from the edge. (A silly message from a dear friend helped pull my spirit out of the darkness, too.) 

So, let me tell you about my current playlists for the books I'm working on. With the new Cedar River series, I've got a lot of Lynyrd Skynrd, Eric Clapton, Santana, John Mayer, and Bob Segar playing when I work on that. With my two new series, I've got one character who loves Frank Sinatra and the whole Rat Pack era. The other series is all 80s romance. (Don't ask because I have no idea. This heroine doesn't necessarily believe in romance so why this is the playlist is just as much my guess as yours.) The horror I'm working on has some Motorhead, Danzig, Rammstein, etc. playing. (I know I'm weird.)

Tell me about your favorite bands. Who do you love to listen to and why? I'm curious. Who knows? One of your favorite songs may end up in one of my books :)

Be Still

For the last few days, I've felt like I was on the verge of a breakdown. My characters quit talking to me!!! I was certain that I'm finished as an author. Sure that I would never write another word again. 
Last night, I actually put my fears to words. Tears filled my eyes because I LOVE what I do! My heart beats for the worlds I have created. I put my earbuds in and simply listened...okay, I may have danced a little bit, too, but I allowed myself to be free.
This morning, I walked the dogs and took a look around at the world around me. The vivid colors seemed to beckon for their pictures to be taken. I put the dogs back inside, carried a bottle of water, my camera, and my homemade bug repellent outside, then parked my butt on the picnic table. I took the time to be still.

Want to know what I noticed? The breeze was blowing through the trees and the sun-warmed cedars scented the air. I heard the birds playing in the leaves. For an hour, I sat there and watched a butterfly fluttered from dandelion to dandelion. I listened to the coyote pups yip in their den behind our house. Dragonfly babies landed on the picnic table beside me. I was simply still.

Deep down inside, I'm still that farmer's daughter. I love the smell of the earth and fresh cut grass. I love going barefoot. The grass tickles my toes and I feel like a kid again. I love the sounds of the earth as it comes to life.

In between the vehicles passing my house, I could hear the water across the street. There is something about the water that manages to soothe me. My muse showed up and do you know what the lovely Sebastian told me? "Get out of your own way, babe!" I laughed because I know it's true. If I can just step aside and stop trying to control everything with such a tight rein, the voices speak to me. Maybe it's fear of spinning out of control, but I have a hard time letting go. 

Today's lesson is over. I'm learning to let go and be still. I can't control the ebb and flow of the lake anymore than I can stop time.

Happy Memorial Day!

As most of you know, I am the daughter of a Vietnam veteran. The image above holds a special place in my photo album simply because of that. I've never been to the wall, but I intend to go at some point.
When I was growing up, Memorial Day was always about the parade in our small town, visiting my relatives' graves, and cooking out at home. My dad was never big on celebrating the true reason for Memorial Day...and I now know why. 
However, we are coming up on the anniversary of my loss and I sit here looking at this picture thinking, "But for the grace of the gods..." 
See, if my dad's name would have been on that wall, I wouldn't have been born. He often would talk about his time in Vietnam and how he wished he had stayed, fought, and died for his country, then the PTSD wouldn't have destroyed his life the way that it did. It used to make me cry because if he had done those things, I wouldn't be here and I sure as hell wouldn't be the woman I am today for walking on his journey with him.
He was an amazing man and he was my hero (though I can hear him telling me, "Girl, I ain't nobody's hero"). He sacrificed his mind, body, and soul for this country. He may have come home physically whole, but mentally, he would never be the man he was if he hadn't seen and done the things he did. 

So, today please remember that All Gave Some and Some Gave All. We are free because of the men and women who have put their lives on the line. We are able to BBQ and spend time with our families because these people have given up time with theirs.

Learning to Live

Most of you who have been with me for a while know that I'm coming up on a pretty big anniversary. It's been a year since I lost one of the most important people in my life...my dad. That one event threw my world off its axis and I've spent the better part of a year trying to get it back on track.

So here I sit, almost an entire year older and I hope a little wiser. I've been through a lot in the last year, but what I have discovered is that I need to learn how to live. For the most part, I've been simply going through the motions, but I haven't really been living life.
I had a professor this year who told me I need to loosen up, let my hair down, and just have some fun. I sat across from this man who I consider a brilliant man and was dumbfounded. 

He told me I wasn't having fun with my writing. I thought I was having a ball with my writing. I mean, writing is a serious business, right? The good doctor looked at me with a smile on his face and said, "Writing is a very serious business, but if you aren't having any fun, then why the hell are you doing it?" This from the Absent-minded professor? (The brilliant man could never remember where we were when it came to writing assignments.) I walked away from this meeting in a different frame of mind...one that really had me thinking.

I put aside what I was working on and put all of my efforts into something new and different. I focused on my blog for school (http://iambeautifulat.blogspot.com) and my algebra homework. I picked up a book I've been wanting to read and delved beneath the pages. I found myself smiling more and laughing with friends. I simply stopped trying to live and actually lived.

School came to an end. I finished my exams and I'm not worried about my grades. Why? Because once I stopped worrying about things, it all began to work. I'm simply letting go.

Yesterday, I got up, popped Nickelback on my MP3 player, tied on my tennis shoes, and went for a walk. I have been having some issues lately and I needed to work them out in my head. A lot of my issues deal with the negative voices in my head. Somebody told me it's a record that I need to stop listening to. So, on my walk, I took the record and smashed the hell out of it. There is no way that record can be put back together.

Somewhere along the way this year, I lost sight of me. I stopped believing in myself and thus, lost my passion. I deserve passion! I owe it to myself and I will damn well have it!

So this is me...I'm letting my hair down, giving a huge rebel yell, and I'm barefooting it for awhile. I'm almost 41. I'm not dead. I'm alive and kicking. This is my year of learning to live!

A Few Things I'm Learning As I Go

So, I'm a college student. Most of you are aware of that. What you don't know is that I started this journey with one goal in mind: get a degree. That was all I wanted. I wasn't going to school to make friends. I wasn't going to engage if I didn't have to. I wanted to earn a degree and walk back into the world smarter. That's it. I'd mind my own business and live my life and everyone else could just leave me alone.
Last semester, I got kicked off that track of thinking. I met a young man who refused to allow me to live in my shell. He asked me questions and stopped to chat with me on campus. He engaged me and made it his mission to make sure I engaged other people. He changed my life though he will never understand that.
I walked onto campus as one of the older students. I figured the kids are going to look at me as the "old woman" on campus. I never expected for them to like me. I didn't care whether they did or not, but they did. I had a couple of people last year tell me, "You know, you're pretty cool, right?" Me? The bookworm? Seriously? You all need to read up on what being cool is! *G*

This semester a different woman walked onto campus. I walked in a little more confident and a whole lot friendlier. The other day, I laughed all the way home. Want to know why? I had been stopped by 4 different people to chat in the hallways. ME! Then, I walked across our tiny campus with another student, chatting about our previous class. When I realized what had happened, it made me laugh out loud. The woman who walked from class to class with her head down, not being engaged with anyone, has friends on campus and not one of them is my own age.
Here are a few things I'm learning:
1) Age is simply a number
2) You are truly only as old as you feel
3) This new generation has a lot to learn, but they also have a lot to offer.
4) Many of these young people refuse to be silent. They stand up for their convictions (and that is AWESOME!)
5) Youth is pretty blind to age.
6) I actually have something to say that they want to hear.
So, I guess an old dog can learn some new tricks, if only they open themselves up to the opportunity. And it all started with the least likely person.

My quote for this week: "Shoot for the moon! Even if you miss, you'll land amongst the stars."

Learning as I Go

Patience...something I have very little of, but need a tremendous amount of. I'm pacing the floor (in my mind) with trepidation, excitement and fear.

If you follow me here, then you know I signed a new contract in late January. I don't have a release date yet, but we're working on it. All the edits are turned in and now I'm waiting. And waiting. And waiting. (See where the need for patience comes in?)

It's not as if I don't have things to do. Mid-term exams are quickly approaching. The house could definitely use a thorough cleaning. My "to be read" pile is out of control. But my mind keeps going back to this new book and "shouldn't I be doing something"?

Then, it happened! A lightning bolt shot out of the blue (okay, I was playing games on Facebook)! My friend, Lesli/Tymber, put up a post about this new book she has out. Well, if I can trust anyone, I trust Lesli/Tymber. She tells you exactly like it is whether it's what you want to hear or not. Anyhoo, her book is entitled, Pimp Yourself: Easy, Painless, and Cheap Self-Promotion for Writers. I've downloaded it to my Kindle and opened the first chapter. Because she doesn't pull any punches, I've learned from my friend that I'm behind in my promotions! EEK! Seriously? But there is still hope for me! I can get myself out there for people to see.

So this week, I'm on a mission: First, I'm going to set up a Facebook account. Second, A Twitter account (I hate Twitter, but I'll do what I must). Third, I'll finish reading Pimp Yourself. Of course, I'll also continue working on the next book in the series (I'm 14, 000 words in) and study! Oh, and I'll probably have to take a break to clean because, honestly? For two people, this house is horrendous. Not Hoarders bad, just bad!

Alright all! I'll keep you up to date on the book when I have information, but for now, you can see I'm trying to promote...ME! I'll probably post things where I offend people, but I'm not doing it intentionally. I'm very vocal about what I believe in.

Have a wonderful week!