Santa Monica Pier

I stood there overwhelmed by its vastness. Tears in my eyes, next to the ocean and you, the water swayed as I was moved. I felt closer to the Creator. My mind traveled to my mom and our favorite lyric. 

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean.

That moment was everything. It connected me to everything especially you.

Awareness Is A Win

Over the last two weeks I experienced anxiety that made me physically ill. My body and mind were on high alert. I struggled.

It's the kind of anxiety that makes me want to stay in bed, eat ice cream, binge Fraiser or Cheers, and not leave my home. 

It's the kind of anxiety that makes me the most unpleasant to those close to me.

It's the kind of anxiety that makes me most unkind to myself. 

On the verge of tears, freaking the fuck out, it occurred to me that this was not overwhelm from the situation. It was a manifestation of fear. Particularly, it was a manifestation of the fear of failure. 

I spoke aloud to myself. "You are not going to fail. You are not going to fail. This is not your failure." 

Thinking of something my therapist shared, I reframed, again aloud:

"You are going to succeed. You are going to succeed. You can do this. You got this."

I played a video with calming music and beautiful scenes on YouTube. I took a lot deep breaths. I calmed myself. 

The situation still scares me. It still feels overwhelming. I still experience anxiety. It's all more manageable though. I know the source. I am addressing fear of failure. I am disputing it. I see how it impacts me, and awareness makes a difference. 

Fear of failure has dictated so much action and inaction in my life. It's the thing that causes my anxiety to go into overdrive. It causes me to run and avoid. It diminishes my gifts and light. It is a self-fulfilling prophecy. 

Through therapy and consistency, I will overcome this. For now, I celebrate the moments of awareness. It is a win that I was able to reach within and settle myself. 

That, my dear readers, is progress.

Don't Be My Casualty

The things about me that make you come 

Are the very reasons you should run

My lips are sweet

I've mastered my tongue 

My love is energy

Affirming. Warm.

My shadows consume

"You were forewarned,"

I'll remind you softly

As our worlds turn

When this is over 

None are unscathed

And the war within me

Will continue to rage

Hard Things

I was listening to We Can Do Hard Things, and Cheryl Strayed offered a much needed [for me] perspective on greatness, mediocrity, failure, and being. 

The goal of my 30s is to look inward first. Consult my own knowing, feelings, instincts, etcetera then honor and respect myself. 

Part of me feels it is such a selfish desire. Another part says I have to live with me, be at peace with me, and carry me everywhere I go for the rest of my life. 

Also from We Can Do Hard Things:

"Help kids develop into adults who have a sense of themselves; who trust themselves; who know themselves; who gaze in before they gaze out...Gazing in first is hugely protective to mental health." 

Present

It is not what it was, but it is me. It is not what I had, but it is mine.

Mr. Gary

I was a receptionist. His husband, Jason, was the Assistant Director of Nursing. Often Jason would be called in while they were out somewhere together. 

Due to some vision and health issues, he did not drive. Instead, he'd wait in the lobby, always patient, always pleasant. We'd chat. We became friends. 

He was always so sweet and kind to me. 

One day, he came into the hospital with a homemade, baked from scratch, strawberry cake. He said it was for me. It was made with love. I knew it.

And, it was so freaking delicious. 

I had one slice of that love and shared it with my mom, aunt, and others who I cannot remember all these years later. I remember the goodness, literal and figurative goodness. I remember the kindness. I was so taken back by the pure thoughtfulness. 

The only thing he asked is that I return the antique cake dish. 

I was newly separated, going through a divorce, and other things few people knew about. It was among the most difficult times of my life, and Mr. Gary baked me a cake just because. The part of me that still has faith still believes that that is what the love of God looks and feels like.

Rest so peacefully, Mr. Gary. 

I'm so sorry for your loss, Mr. Jason.

Thank you both for thinking of me as your "baby girl."

I do not have a picture of this dear, sweet man that is mine to share. Instead, I'll share what I have...

Be a Purple Homie 💜

This year I celebrate my 32nd birthday (09/18) promoting Alzheimer's awareness. Purple Homies, our 2022 team, is a collection of friends walking to end Alzheimer's. I walk in honor of my Grandma, Mae Alice, who lives with the disease. 

Purple Homies ⬅️ Click to support our team by donating to the Alzheimer’s Association.