tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77636588319326287542024-02-19T00:04:29.735-07:00NATANDCHATThe exploration of Self-AwarenessUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger171125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-34990974846133538172020-12-08T12:53:00.001-07:002020-12-08T12:54:14.473-07:00The morphing isn't stopping<p style="text-align: justify;">Remember when everyone had a blog? In fact, you can tell the age of a movie if they reference someone having a blog, because nobody talks about blogging anymore. We've moved on to being heard instead of being read.<br /></p><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;">We used to think of listening being related to audio books and radio shows, but the world took a turn and less people want to read. Everything is videos and podcasts. I didn't TRY to be one of those people, but that's what I did too. I stopped taking the time to share the transcript of what I was writing to record, and now only share what I record. And since it's on all major platforms, I don't even need to put much effort into wide spread sharing.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I don't want to abandon my .com and I tell myself that one day I will make a replacement website that does away with this blog...but I don't find time to make that a priority because people are busy on their favorite platform listening to podcasts and music, not even noticing websites like this anymore. And truth be told, I am too.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm also finally prioritizing my books. Getting them recorded, uploaded and available. It's funny how what you thought you were finished with, if abandoned for a couple or more years, no longer CAN BE considered finished. We change, we say things differently, we learn new stuff, and we have MORE to say. So that's where I am, updating and trying to finally move forward with my big projects. I'm also doing better at not letting people stop me by taking my time away from my projects, because my projects are my dreams, and dreams stay dreams when you aren't actively working towards them. Key word being WORK.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">The world is morphing, I doubt it will stop, and we keep morphing with it; becoming a species totally reliant on technology. It's scary to be honest. But what can we do? Either get on the train and have a wild ride, or get off and go nowhere. Not a lot of options in between.<br /><br />So for now, you won't be reading me, just listening on your favorite platform. And currently, those are:<br /><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Apple Podcasts</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Google Podcasts</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Spotify</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Breaker</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Overcast</p><p style="text-align: justify;">PocketCasts</p><p style="text-align: justify;">RadioPublic</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Castbox</p><p style="text-align: justify;">TuneIn</p>Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-76740818952721356932019-12-31T19:38:00.003-07:002019-12-31T19:39:03.152-07:00Recognition, Connection, and Meaning<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
This has to start with a story.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Seven years ago I applied for a job in Singapore and got it.
The position was educating and speaking about a product manufactured in
Singapore, and a 6 foot tall woman of 40 years with long blond hair was exactly
what they were looking for. They wanted someone with a comfortable air, because
speaking to groups of people was going to be the main requirement. They also
needed this comfort because their product was something peculiar, and even
awkward. It was a product that removed toxins from the body through the
genitals -for both men and women. It was essentially a panty-liner for both
sexes. A marketing challenge for sure, but one that sounded like fun for this
woman who is obsessed with genuineness, communication, clarity, and comfort.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was a month away from leaving to Singapore when the person
that got me the interview (my contact) emailed and said that she quit FOR me.
Apparently, what the company said they were going to pay me kept changing and
going down. Eventually my contact let them know that if their offer wasn’t good
enough I would not be willing to move myself all the way to Singapore if I
couldn’t maintain having an apartment there, and a house back home. So with one
email, my life was no longer drastically changing in a month.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What a head-spin. I had been sitting on the floor of my
closet recording some writings, when I opened the email. Sitting there on the
floor I suddenly no longer had any plans. What a strange sensation it is to be
faced with “what now?” These are the times in life I try to shut off my
thoughts and I try to listen. I call it reading the aether, but it’s also
listening to the aether and beign open to what comes your way. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oddly, what came my way was the overwhelming sense of being
compelled to go and enquire if a coffee shop that had just been built near me -was
hiring. As an at home coffee drinker, and never having worked in a “food
industry”, to say I was hesitant is an understatement. But the loudness of the
aether about this coffee shop was deafening. I avoided it for a couple hours,
telling myself I had other errands to get to, and then finally as it started to
get dark, I relented and went over there. Half expecting to find nothing and no
one, because I’d left it so late. I thought I could placate the loudness by <b>mostly</b>
following through and driving to the magnet the aether created.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With people inside, but the coffee shop closed, I knocked on
the door. A young man came to me, stepped outside, and talked to me for about
20 minutes.<br />
<br />
In a way, the rest is history because about a week later I had applied, been
interviewed, hired, and was arriving for my first day. The aether is an all
knowing force, and in hind sight, I see why it was so loud. All these years
later I still work there, and it has been a life changer for me. Not with
direction and purpose, income or accomplishment. It has been the opportunity to
grow internally in ways I never had before. I feel like it’s a unique chance to
be part of something many people attach importance to, and make part of their
every day. I too, see coffee as a big deal in my life, and so I mix with
kindred in the customers there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And THIS is why I have titled this Recognition, Connection,
and Meaning. One of the biggest realizations I’ve made in life, I’ve not just
realized; I’ve witnessed. My witnessing has me experiencing, feeling, and
believing things that I couldn’t have known without this coffee shop.. It’s a
hard road, but if I died tomorrow, all the cleaning, lifting, exhausting,
energy-stealing aspects of the job will not go with me. My take-away will be some
of the most beautiful and special things I now hold as core beliefs.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These include:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Everyone wants to be accepted. Everyone wants to be
comfortable. Everyone wants to be familiar, and validated in some form even if
it’s “hello again”. Trust takes time. Nobody is perfect. Nobody needs to be
perfect. Our differences are our magnificence. Do no harm. Listen to your
intonation, and radiate genuineness as you speak. See the beauty in others AS
IS. Give them opportunity to be all these things, and when they have no desire,
move on with no ill will. Cultivate self respect while cultivating the exact
amount of outward respect for others. Keep your negative words to yourself and
let them live as knowledge. Connection can be short and intentional, with
friendship being real and yet, acceptable -small. The world is a scary place,
and you can feel shy…that doesn’t dictate your ability to do all these things.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
The meaning of life is what you decide it is. You do have that much power. I
pray you see the power and use it in a way conducive with how the aether is directing
you to the great things this life offers. Even if the greatness is not yours,
but the lesson’s.</div>
Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-7848610775317222072019-11-12T13:28:00.001-07:002019-11-12T13:30:16.444-07:00Honesty is the way<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know I’ve already touched on honesty being vital to a
healthy relationship with ANYONE. I talk about how honesty is more than not
telling lies. It’s also being clear about things that are truths.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since it’s more than not lying, lets get the definition the
dictionary has for lying: 1.To make an untrue statement with intent to deceive.
2. To create a false or misleading impression. Yes, to do this is also to not
be honest, but you can still <b>not</b> be honest while insisting you <b>aren’t</b>
making untrue statements, not deceiving, or being misleading. Let’s say whether
or not you can see or say you are lying, if you aren’t dealing with or speaking
what lives as TRUTH, you aren’t being HONEST.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I ended up in an uncomfortable relationship recently (and
for those that know me will see this is a pattern) where I called out the
person for lying to me not in words and untrue statements, but for misleading
and harmful actions. Their later “honesty” seemed forced by situation and their
internal storytelling which must have on some level been a voice of reason
somewhere inside -pointing out the lying. I’m left saying that it doesn’t
matter whether you are lying, insist you aren’t lying, or can’t tell if you are
lying, the storytelling is the mark of dishonesty.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When people are unaware of their cognitive distortions (the
storytelling to themselves and others) the lack of honesty stops being so much
about lying, (meaning with “intent”) and becomes more about an inability to be
accurate and truthful with yourself and the world around you. This affects
others in your world, because you are literally a walking “storybook of
beliefs”…and people around you can see it, or eventually will encounter it and
hear it –FROM YOU.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjBmtayAylm769ExHg7jejPa4dpODE5qv38rBEoSwVOrOfkDi86SzlyCcY8Ht-BM11Nd1qXVxFX87l82RQAnWlwHRPAj2PO9n_ZI8RVSjxbueFIJPIzntlk83MrkiE6EvEJoRq6VClQlU/s1600/honesty+is+the+way.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1492" data-original-width="1600" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjBmtayAylm769ExHg7jejPa4dpODE5qv38rBEoSwVOrOfkDi86SzlyCcY8Ht-BM11Nd1qXVxFX87l82RQAnWlwHRPAj2PO9n_ZI8RVSjxbueFIJPIzntlk83MrkiE6EvEJoRq6VClQlU/s320/honesty+is+the+way.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Cognitive distortions</b> are thoughts that cause
individuals to perceive reality inaccurately. That’s the definition by
psychiatrist Aaron Temkin Beck. I would advise looking up cognitive
distortions, and Dr Beck because this information is extremely useful to someone
wanting to be more self-aware than the average person. There are 17 main
distortions, but the reality is: anything inaccurate that you tell yourself so
that you can function in your world -is a cognitive distortion. This absolutely
means: you likely use these as your coping mechanisms. And that is not a
criticism. It is a statement about Humans. Humans do some pretty awful things
to other humans, and in our deep need to feel ok, to be happy, to be
comfortable, to be functioning…we have to tell ourselves some kind of story. Either
about what happened TO us, or about what we DID to someone else. Most of us do
this in some form or another in order to make it through every day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
So, talking about Honesty…I have recently had to be very honest with myself
about what I am feeling mid-life as compared to what I felt in my childhood.
I’ve had to get very honest with myself and admit that I do not know what it
feels like to FEEL SAFE. One of my cognitive distortions is around being “fine”
and being “strong” and being capable. While literally refusing to admit that a
core wound of mine is a lack of security and safety. My distortion has centered
on what I insist I am vs. what I am unwilling to look at about my childhood and
what I felt. It was likely in my infancy that I picked up on things being
unsafe, because I came into this world and into a home, where the mother trying
to keep ME safe, was being shouted at and hit on a regular basis. I don’t think
I could possibly guess how early in life I sensed danger, and therefore a lack
of safety. Some of my earliest memories are ones that have my father hitting,
shouting and throwing things at me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another one of the main reasons I’m looking at honesty and
cognitive distortions is because of a book someone very kind shared with me: The
Mindbody Prescription by John E. Sarno. This book has raised many questions and
concerns for me about getting myself healthy, and the further I delve, the more
I realize this book is as accurate as they come. No, his thinking is not
mainstream, but mainstream thinks we haven’t cured cancer, so I avoid
mainstream everywhere I can. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What I’ve already learned at the beginning of this book, is
that when we find core wounds and address them, pain lessens or goes away. And
this is standard for people who are willing to open their minds to the way he
says the body works. Those who don’t understand, believe, or attempt what he
says -are the people who remain in physical pain. One of the reasons I believe
that is, is because the most negative people who aren’t open to all solutions,
would rather stick with their cognitive distortions because they are telling
themselves THOSE are the truth. This isn’t conscious, they don’t know they are
lying to themselves, or not being honest with themselves, they think they are
smart. While not seeing the obvious, that a Dr who spent his career trying to
help people in pain, found patterns, addressed those patterns, and started
“healing” people by informing them about how their body works, and then asking
them to be willing to open their minds to what their TRUE FEELINGS ARE. Ya,
it’s almost too easy to work, but like so many things I write about, the
solution is usually clarity and communication, and sometimes you have to do
that with your own mind and body.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So lets return to how I’m accepting that I have cognitive
distortions that I too thought were “truths”. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(If you are willing to indulge me in the only real examples I
have, since I don’t live anyone else’s life, keep reading. This gets very
personal.)<br />
<br />
If you have read or heard very many things I’ve written, you know that I’m not normally afraid to look at my “shit”. I want to gain perspective, get clarity, improve
my mental health, and be the best human I can figure out how to be…so to say I
do “self-work” is very true. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have found the mark of things I need to work on is usually
<b>tears</b>. If when talking about something that I feel, and I suddenly want
to cry, I know that I still have some healing to do, because the things I’ve
worked hard on healing, don’t cause that sensation. Sometimes something just
strikes me as sad, and so I feel tears of sadness appear. But those feel
different than tears that tear at the back of my throat and take away my voice.
Those tears are tethered to the pain, and so the exiting of those tears is not
a comfortable sensation, those tears involve my body and spirit.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Have you ever watched a video of someone doing something
sweet or nice? And you didn’t even notice until it was over that it made you
cry. That you just sat there watching, possibly smiling, and when it was
done…your face was wet. Those are the tears I’m NOT talking about. Those are
tears of empathy, and they are tears that come from your understanding of what
others can feel. They fall with ease.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The tears that are “tethered to the pain” as I put it -can’t
go unnoticed. For me, sometimes they feel attached to my throat as though it is
being constricted to squeeze out the tears. Which is also why I want to resist
those tears, they freaking hurt!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m going to be very vulnerable and
share my realization of a cognitive distortion I have, that has come about
since the end of the aforementioned relationship ending, and the accepting I
have always felt a lack of safety. My cognitive distortion has been something I
was not being honest with myself about because of a number of things <b>I was
using as “proof”</b> in the story I was telling myself. The measure of time
I’ve been telling it -is one factor, the comparison of others to myself -a
second factor, my disdain for the word as it relates to my personal perspective
-yet another factor, and lastly my knowledge of the word as I see others
experience it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sound very cryptic, but really,
it’s still so hard to say because I don’t want to say it. I am still resisting
it and it is still tethered to the pain, and therefore tethered to the tears. (When
I record this, I will do as many takes as I have to in order to share without
crying) I imagine one listening to me is expecting me to reveal a mountain,
when the opposite is actually true. And the fact the word is so used every day,
means I want to resist it even more because every time I hear it, I tell myself
that that is not me. When the reality is, it has been me since I was a child.
Since I don’t know when, just as I don’t know when the lack of safety started.
The two are likely linked. And when I’m especially honest and willing to look
at my history, I can see it’s <b>obvious</b>, and I literally had to LIE to
myself and create the cognitive distortion and insist I had “proof” I was not
part of this word, and it was not part of me.<br />
<br />
The same friend that SHOWED ME I was <b>an enabler</b> is the friend that every
few years helps me see something in myself that I resist seeing. She is “in all
intents, purposes, and forces” -my sister (except in blood). She knows me like
only a sister can. She sees me like only a sister does. And in her most
understanding and respectful way, she said to me the other week: “Natalie, I
think you have high functioning depression”.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Had anyone else in the world said
it, I would have given them all my reasons why I DO NOT. But because it was
her, I know better than to pull out my shield and fend it off. I stopped frozen
and gave it a minute to be considered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My mind went to my teens when I
used to wish I did not exist. I didn’t want to kill myself, I did not want my
family to lose me, I didn’t have any desire to hurt them by disappearing, but I
was consumed with the thought “I wish I didn’t exist”. That consumption in
conjunction with the love of my mother -put me in counseling. Which is a very
poor word for how pathetic it all was. I had to answer hundreds of questions,
coloring in the bubbles like a school test to be scanned by a computer and
generate a score. Then a woman so big she had to have had more than one chair
under her, “told me who I was”, as I sat there crying and feeling like this was
the most useless experience I could be put through. And then she put me on
prozac. My violent narcissistic father was put on prozac after we ran away 5
years earlier and reports of it helping HIM were in my head. For two weeks I
took it and the only change was that my stomach hurt so much that I couldn’t
eat and I lost 10 lbs I couldn’t afford to lose. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That’s not “help”, so I stopped
taking it. I gave it a chance, but I also felt relieved that that huge woman
was wrong, and since it didn’t help me, I was even LESS like my father. Even as
a teenager I was collecting proof for my case of how UNlike him I am. As an
adult, I have long since won that case, happy to admit my physical structure is
very much like him. I didn’t get the body type of my mothers side. Everything
internal is from her. Who I am is way more like my mother and <b>her</b> father,
and that too was a healthy realization I had late in life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, as I break apart my cognitive
distortions and get honest with myself, I experience what Dr John E. Sarno
worked on into his 90’s teaching his patients…that what you FEEL (emotions)
will affect what you FEEL (body pain). Let me shorten that: That what you feel
will affect what you feel. This is the furthest thing from rocket science. It’s
clear as clear. The proof is in the pain.<br />
<br />
I’m not sure if Honesty, Cognitive Distortions, Trauma, and Pain are all linked
for everyone since I do not have a childhood without trauma to use as
reference. But what I do know is that Honesty is more important than any of us
realize. It’s akin to gold. You know about it, it’s valuable, you might have
some of it, but if you really want a lot of it, you have to dig, you have to do
some work, you have to filter and forge, keep working hard, and definitely keep your eyes open.<br />
<br />
Honesty is not a mountain to climb and call good once you do it. Honesty is a
paved path you take and either stick to or veer off of. Your whole life can be
walked on the path, but some of us just can’t see the paved path is smoother.
We all have choice. I hope I keep choosing Honesty. I am not a fan of pain.</div>
Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-25473034795839172362019-10-31T18:11:00.001-06:002019-10-31T18:13:16.713-06:00Who are you trying to impress?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Who are you trying to impress?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I need to write a bullet point bio that isn’t a bio. It’s a
list of accomplishments. What did my years get me…what did my study
conclude…what was my thesis, and what did I prove?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How do I quantify, qualify, explain, and impress the
immeasurable effort, days, years, experiments, successes and failures -that this
life I’ve led has stamped upon me? I didn’t choose a classroom, I chose a
planet. I didn’t take tests that got graded, I failed or I passed. I observed,
concluded, observed, fell, observed, succeeded, observed and shared. Becoming
this person with a million opinions, and a thousand suggestions. I am a
complicated construct of a girl that has so much to say on psychology, etiquette,
couth, transformation, correlation, intonation, relation, narcissism, autism,
conditioning, trauma, desire, and dynamics.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No, I’m not a simple creature. At times, I’m too much for
myself, but if asked to bullet point bio this complicated girl, I fail for a
few reasons.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first is that I do not have a need to impress. If
impressing others were a goal I would have given even 10 minutes thought into
turning my fascinations and interests into something akin to a qualification
that brought me a fancy “career” and letters to attach to my name.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To even say “I fail” makes it sound like I’ve tried. No, I
fail to care that my life long obsession with observation, transformation, and
understanding doesn’t “look like something” to someone else. Who am I trying to
impress? Nobody. And why?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because that is not related to who I am, what I do, why I
want clarity, and every other reason I have become this person with no need for
someone else to be interested in what I say.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s my approval of myself I have
spent years seeking. Having wrapped my head around that is how I reached the
realization everything else can just rest AS IS from there. I got what I
needed. I have what I searched for.<span style="color: navy;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I fail also to care if anyone just listens. Because what I actually
care about is listening with aim for betterment. If someone wants to better
themselves, and work on the things I work on, THEN I care if they listen,
because maybe that is someone who gets what I’m talking about. Maybe that is
someone who notices the details like me. Maybe that is someone who doesn’t like
“status quo” either.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know the unlikelihood of what I write benefiting the
masses. I am not for the masses. Twitter, tinder, facebook, and snapchat are
for them. That’s where the masses be. Anyone interested in wholeness and
healing the insides of this human condition are the ones that might find my
perspective useful.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Impressed, impressive, it’s all in the eye of the beholder…where
the beholder has been is what really dictates what they hear, what they think,
what they understand. A beholder reading bullet points will see I am nothing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If we have multiple lives, this one wasn’t to be the one
that I concentrate on others opinions. This one is for my growth,
understanding, and benefit. I will not exclude others on a path similar to me,
and what I also won’t do, is insist anyone follow, or be impressed.</div>
<br />Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-88421043882309308092019-10-31T18:05:00.003-06:002019-10-31T18:06:10.555-06:00Stubborn or Strong?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Before you tell yourself you are standing your ground, not
moving, “sticking to it”, or being “steadfast” in your decision…you should
really ask yourself if you are being Strong, or just Stubborn.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Strength knows when to apologize, it knows when to change,
it knows when to make a new decision, and it understands being flexible.
Strength is telling the truth. It’s being honest with yourself, it’s
communicating to reach understanding, and it’s NOT one sided.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stubbornness is insisting your side is right. Whether it’s
attitude or position, story tale, or truth. To be stubborn is to decide you are
going to be difficult, not move, be determined, and dogged in your attitude.
Stubbornness is not deciding you are going to stand in a place of strength and
educated in doing so.<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Stubbornness comes when feelings get hurt. It appears when
one part of your mind is sad, mad, upset, or crushed. While another part of
your brain says: “Never again.” And the stubbornness switch gets flipped.
Honestly, being stubborn is the easy decision. The first decision. It’s the
decision to not be humble in your hurt, or to feel empathy for where the other
person might be coming from or what they could be feeling. Strength knows
humility and empathy. Strength is WILLING to stand and see all sides. Strength
is also ok with the result being a lack of understanding, because humility and
empathy fill that hole.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stubbornness insists that something has been removed. That
there is less than, and insecurity. Strength says, everything is fine as is…I’m
wiser, I know more, I will use this information to help me be even STRONGER,
more humble, more empathetic, and better than I was.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I know I can be stubborn, that’s how I know what it says to my psyche. I know I
can be strong, that’s how I know what benefits it gives me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today I think of past friendships, and current beautiful
ones. The clarity on Stubbornness for one or both parties in those “past
friendships” is more obvious now. Reasons can't always known when the stubbornness wasn’t
mine, but the understanding through strength is there <b>when</b> I’m willing
to transform <i>my </i>stubbornness.<br />
<br />
We tend to see our feelings getting hurt similar to the way we see our physical
body being hurt, even without realization of this. If you are in a car
accident, and the reason for the accident is clear, (who did what for the
cause) that is information you use for the rest of your life when you are driving.
It makes sense to hang onto it. But when our feelings are hurt, the lack of
knowledge (who did what for the cause) is most often totally unknown, add to
that: bad days, life struggles, general stress, and even hormones, and the
understanding of why the feelings got hurt are almost impossible, especially if
stubbornness appears before communication does.<br />
<br />
So without a personal story this time, and just a lot of realization. I am
writing this for myself, and anyone else interested, to remember -that the next
time you make a decision and it looks at all like being stubborn, ask yourself
if you are wishing to be strong instead. Stubbornness is weak, flawed, and
uneducated. Do you want to stand with your hands full of that? Or do you want
to decide you will be strong, and do the harder thing which probably requires
you communicate. Sometimes the end result can look the same, such as: I need to
avoid that person because they are unhealthy for me. Strength sometimes decides
that. But if stubbornness decides it, you are probably the one missing out,
choosing weakness, not communication, and your pride in deciding that -keeps
you oblivious to all kinds of benefit Strength carries.<br />
<br />
Be aware -just that. Pay attention, be clear, don’t be so afraid of feelings.
You’re built around them, why not understand them, and not just feel them.</div>
<br />Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-37569011179292299562019-08-29T12:09:00.002-06:002019-08-29T12:12:07.019-06:00No Really, Worry About Yourself<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The concept of “worry about yourself” was totally new to me
until about 5 years ago. So, here I’m admitting that one of the most important
lessons I’ve learned in life; I learned after 40. Since I wrote about it 5 years
ago, I have so much more to say on the subject than I did when I was just
wrapping my head around it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
When it was said to me, it was because I was making issue
about how I perceived myself as being treated by someone else. That person’s
reply to me was “Worry about yourself” and I was like “What does that even
mean?” I hadn’t heard anyone say that before, and since I had a pretty solid
framework for the word WORRY, I totally didn’t get it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzvOpN8lM6EcXz48O_A0yYJ1FsminsM7fC3fpL8QXWlUtKGFy30wwpqEzBNWQBIHLzxzcaPAuvxKp523mra7wDp0UJ_y32o4soZWW4GH5QQ3REuHmD7WYzcRdH6LFhH1ZcqbQ_ikpv13Q/s1600/worry+about+yourself.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1140" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzvOpN8lM6EcXz48O_A0yYJ1FsminsM7fC3fpL8QXWlUtKGFy30wwpqEzBNWQBIHLzxzcaPAuvxKp523mra7wDp0UJ_y32o4soZWW4GH5QQ3REuHmD7WYzcRdH6LFhH1ZcqbQ_ikpv13Q/s320/worry+about+yourself.jpg" width="227" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
For a couple weeks, I repeated it over and over in my head,
because of my confusion and the discomfort of the situation where I thought I
was being treated bad. As I dwelled on it -it sunk in.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Since then, I have used this expression and shared its
benefit many times in conversation…because you see, although it sounds self-centered,
it’s actually a self-actualized concept. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Let’s imagine for a minute that you have multiple things
going on… This pile of “things” is making life harder! You are feeling
overwhelmed, and know you need to come up with some solutions to “fix” some of
these things, and try to get your life back to feeling like you have order and
ease on at least some levels. Your problems, are big and small, and you see you
need solutions.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The ability to be in a space of feeling like this, AND TO
UNDERSTAND FULLY that every other person COULD ALSO be in a space like this,
struggling with their own issues…AND it having NOTHING to do with YOU and your
“things”, is how you are <i>not</i> being self centered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A self-centered person would see their own issues and “things” as being
overwhelming, all encompassing, and ALSO MATTERING to others, not even
considering that others have a life and issues too. Worse than even being self
centered, a narcissist would believe that their issues are the only issues, and
their life is part of your life.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So to see yourself and others separately, to have empathy that they could feel
overwhelmed or upset, or feel ANY emotion, and it having nothing to do with you
-is a healthy place to be. Not that having an overwhelming pile of “things” feels
healthy, but your ability to stand back and actually SEE Yourself, to SEE
others, and to HAVE empathy for them, because you know what you feel like, so
you can “get” what they feel like; THIS is a self-actualized trait.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So…back to topic.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
To “worry about yourself” is NOT to say “be selfish”. It is
to say Be SMART, let’s be sensible: everybody hurts, everybody struggles, what
someone is doing, saying, acting, feeling doesn’t necessarily HAVE ANYTHING to
do with you. Don’t insert yourself into what is going on with them. Worry about
yourself.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And this is a good place to point out, that if you CHOOSE to
be offended by someone having a bad day because of THEIR LIFE, you are choosing
to swim in mud and make your day harder. Being offended the majority of the
time is you being unable to see how they are acting is about what they are
experiencing, -how they are feeling, -what they are going through. To MAKE IT
about you is for you to ignore they might have a pile of “things”, and so what
they say or how they say it could sound harsh and about you. No! It’s about
them. LET THEM act however they are going to act. Their mood is theirs, let
them show it to as many people as they want. Let them do their upset,
overwhelmed thing and NOT turn it into being about you.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My friend gave me a unique example the other day…not knowing it was perfect for
this concept.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She has an 18 year old daughter. This daughter has developed
a habit of being embarrassed by everything happening around her. My friend says
“I said this, and she was embarrassed. I did this, and she was embarrassed. I
do my hair like this, and she thinks it’s embarrassing.” So with all of the
examples my friend had, they were all her daughter criticizing her in some
form, about everything she does.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
So, I pointed out two things. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The first was this daughter is very insecure. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
To the point that she is even allowing everything happening
around her (like what her mother is doing, saying, and looking like) to be
something that makes her feel MORE insecure. My friend knows this about her
daughter, but because they are close, all of the things that this daughter
says; hurts. For her daughter to tell her: “Your hair looks like David Bowie”
she struggles to not turn that into “Your hair looks terrible, I’m embarrassed
to be seen with you”. And what is the daughter doing here? She is being so self
centered, that she is making what other people look like around her, -part of
her, so not liking what her mom’s hair looks like as a way for her to be yet
MORE uncomfortable. It’s a very unconscious thing…obviously.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The second thing I pointed out is what my friend hasn’t
done.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She hasn’t ever said to the 18 year old, she needs to worry
about herself and say to her: “I will do my hair how I want to do my hair, you
will do yours how you want it, and neither of us EVEN NEED to have an opinion
about what the others hair looks like, because we can BOTH <i>worry about
ourselves</i>”. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The 18 year old also needs to hear:</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“You don’t need to be embarrassed by what I say, because I’m
the one saying it and I’M responsible for what comes out of MY mouth. YOU be
responsible for what you say, and if you do something embarrassing, and you
want to feel embarrassed, go ahead. But don’t decide YOU need to be embarrassed
FOR ME when I’m NOT embarrassed. Worry about yourself. Let me do me. Your
criticism of me -is about you; stop it. What you are accomplishing with your critical
words is making yourself look like an ass. Stop being an ass and forcing your
opinions onto me and my comfort. Because YOUR discomfort is YOUR choice. You
don’t have to choose to be embarrassed. Become self-aware, accepting your
feelings are almost always a choice. Make new choices, and worry about
yourself.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Can you see how much you simplify life by ALLOWING others to be, feel, do, whatever
they want? You are not responsible for them. Let it go, don’t make it about
you, HEAR what they say as them telling you about who they are and what they
are going through. And if you can…turn their “harsh or mean” words into them
saying: “I feel really shitty”, and ask them if they need a hug. We don’t NEED
to take their life, their past, their discomfort, their lack of happiness, and
turn it into anything that belongs to us. You do you. I’ll worry about myself.</div>
Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-77033795583980258572019-07-31T23:36:00.003-06:002019-08-01T00:00:36.290-06:00Childhood and MonstersIn recently reading through a book I wrote, I’m realizing there are things that
have come up in the 4 years since I finished it, and I should add them now. I
am seeing I missed a very important point in the scheme of becoming a top
quality human and liking who you are…and that important point boils down to
childhood pain. I’ve been writing for much longer than I have been writing and
INCLUDING aspects of my childhood pain. I’m finally accepting, this isn’t
something that can just be ignored. In my dealing with it, I'm writing about it.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
In fact, I’m looking at it clearer than ever, after attending a women’s retreat
and hearing the stories of so many sweet women who all have a heart of gold
despite their trauma. Listening to the things people endure as children has me
thinking two things in large amounts.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
* My childhood trauma could be seen as mild.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
AND </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
*Most people my age have trauma and abuse in their
childhood. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s actually disheartening to realize this as you start
allowing conversations about trauma to be part of everyday communication. No,
I’m not going around saying “Were you abused? Hey, me too!” But in dealing with
neck problems from being hit so much as a child, and it now being a daily issue
for me as an adult, I end up hearing through shared pain that few people
“escaped” abuse in their childhood.<br />
<br />
And let’s define that really quickly… You wouldn’t think it would need
definition, but there is a perspective on social media that is not the
perspective I’m taking. Apparently people hearing things they don’t like makes
them feel “unsafe” and even offended. Actually…THAT’S offensive to the people
who know what UNSAFE is. If a person wasn’t abused and doesn’t have trauma they
are trying to heal, they just like saying they feel unsafe. It feeds the obtuse
measure of <i>me too</i> for those who aren’t able to relate, but wish they
could “join in”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Actual abuse is ANYTHING done to a child that causes
physical, emotional, or mental <b>harm.</b> Disciplining a child and sending
them to their room because of something they did and shouldn’t have, is not
abuse. I almost just want to say, lets all pull our heads out of our asses and
sensibly understand the word harm also. This world we live in now, is one where
people seem to have their own definitions for words, and I don’t have patience
for it…and anyone wanting to twist the word harm into something its not -is not
the person I’m writing to…it’s the person I’m writing ABOUT.<br />
<br />
So when is a child no longer a child? When is it ok to say, “You’re old enough,
I can treat you like this because you are an adult”? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Never! You see, we are never supposed to harm anyone, and we
are ESPECIALLY never supposed to harm children. MY WORLD is one where this is
still not common knowledge.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Now, to return to my original topic. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Monsters. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyone willing to harm a child is not just a shitty human,
they are a monster. Let’s be clear about that. AND there are monsters in most
of our lives. And No, everyone isn’t a monster. Some have more monsters in
their lives than others, so it can feel like that. Some people had BOTH parents
that were monsters, not just one, and it’s knowing actual people who had to
live with two Monsters that got me started writing this post.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I experienced being raised by a Monster AND an Angel. Not having two
monsters is how I think I managed to see my monster so clearly. I’ve called him
a two headed alien a few times in my writings because I couldn’t relate to him
or understand where he was coming from. His continual attacks on us sitting
with the Angel next to us is what made it so clear. He constantly put himself
on the outside of “us”. He took the “outsider/foreigner/alien” role and more
often than not put us on the couch to shout at us as the team of Angels we
were.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’d say this makes me lucky, if I had to have a monster, for
the monster to clearly be a monster, is beneficial for me. I wasn’t also experiencing passive
aggressive behavior, or gaslighting, or any mind games. It was all pretty cut
and dried for me. Which might also be key to my unraveling the emotional damage he did.
It’s not complicated damage. The physical damage is another thing, but maybe it's related.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Something I’ve also realized that has helped me see things
clearer, (I ascribe to one day be saying <i>clearly</i>) is that pain is
a distraction from sensibility. And it can be overwhelming. This being the
case, when we stay in pain, where we were when we experienced pain, we do not
have access to sensibility the way we would if we could step away from the
pain. I have found this applies emotionally and physically. Sometimes a pill
that could help my neck goes ignored because the pain is so loud and commanding
my attention. The times I am not in pain, I’m able to remember the things that
help me when I’m uncomfortable. Go ahead and think of an example of pain you
have had recently; physical or emotional…and then think of how sensible you
were in those moments? If you are no longer in quite such a painful place, can
you think right now of things that help you when you are like that?<br />
<br />
I have some supplements I’m going to go grab right now in the interest of trying
to remain sensible despite the discomfort in my neck and head currently with
pain at the back, pain at the front, and vertigo.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s a debatable topic whether or not emotional pain is far
greater than physical pain. I’m one of those on the side of saying I’d take
physical pain over emotional pain any day of the week. Which also reminds me of
the book The Mind/Body Prescription by John E. Sarno. I haven’t finished
reading it, but he talks about the body having to be involved because the mind
is overwhelmed and allocating its pain. CREATING physical pain from emotional
pain. I’m totally open to that, and trying to lean more currently. It’s a
rabbit hole that could change everything if we started dealing with emotional
issues and found we could be healing physical ones. As I say, I’m working on
this, and since this book appeared, I have even more reasons to heal the emotional stuff. I'm trying to understand the belief I have that "blame" does not serve me, so why do I turn to it? Should I be allowing blame instead of fighting it? I just can't see that blame heals, so I try to move past it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
UGH.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wish I could get rid of all the monsters, or I wish they
didn’t exist. My mother didn’t have abusive parents, and I have always enjoyed
listening to her talk about her childhood and how much happiness she had. Her
world didn’t include monsters until she married one. Maybe that’s how it
happened, there was no recognition.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-56780001198656899772019-04-23T13:25:00.000-06:002019-04-23T13:40:07.669-06:00KNOW vs. FEEL<span style="text-align: justify;">I can KNOW many things. My common sense is pretty on point.
I’m sensible and I do the </span><a href="http://www.natandchat.com/2017/12/shelves-tables.html" style="text-align: justify;" target="_blank">Shelves & Tables</a><span style="text-align: justify;"> thing on a regular basis; being
honest with myself and getting clarity on everything that appears looking
unclear. I often need a few hours to figure out something “new” that comes up
in my psyche. Sometimes it takes a couple weeks before I’m able to effectively
write about some things, but overall I feel I’m sensible and I USE my
sensibility.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Now…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
What I FEEL is another story. And no, I’m no psychiatrist,
so what I say could be entirely textbook and obvious to some. It’s all
experiential for me. When I say “feel” (this time) I mean specifically feelings
we don’t choose. Feelings that arise and are like a 5 gallon bucket of paint
poured over your head from the heavens. It can’t be ignored, it has to be felt.
This is how I see feelings I have through conditioning. I literally mean like
Pavlov’s dogs knowing that a bell equates to food. Our whole youth is full of
conditioning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
It’s association. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
This + this = that. Almost everything is association and
conditioning. If you have a dog you make association for them on a regular
basis. If you have children you are doing it, and sometimes creating who they
are in the process. Which isn’t to remove their volition; they WILL make
decisions you don’t like –despite your conditioning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivI86m-Fxr6UcxTBiNjp9rkMDiWfu7TZjOLCV1TWEYkF7khlScqd2hYuU_LDJSieiKMaHk355FX5Yv0-Gcl1qHY4vjtOLyJrvnpL-Hx5H_rQxeDkr1llauBfnE0Anmz2lcKLonZ03mdo8/s1600/knowVSfeel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="474" data-original-width="1600" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivI86m-Fxr6UcxTBiNjp9rkMDiWfu7TZjOLCV1TWEYkF7khlScqd2hYuU_LDJSieiKMaHk355FX5Yv0-Gcl1qHY4vjtOLyJrvnpL-Hx5H_rQxeDkr1llauBfnE0Anmz2lcKLonZ03mdo8/s400/knowVSfeel.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I’m writing not because I’m willing to share what
conditioning appeared for me recently, what paint got poured over my head, but
to acknowledge that what I felt/feel was/is incredibly real. It affects the
adult me. How do I undo/delete/fix this conditioning I don’t want to be feeling,
since I don’t choose it?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Annoyingly, it took a wise 20 year old that lives with me to
give me the advice my sensible self should have already said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Communicate it away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Natalie do what you do, communicate this feeling to the
person it’s related to, then they will know, and its power will be gone. Be
open about it, and there can’t be an issue because you put that feeling out
there before you could have your conditioning affect the situation.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Through my cloudy head of snot and tears, I absolutely saw
she was right and what she said was THE sensible answer. I already could see I
was being silly allowing a feeling that wouldn’t appear to be a fear it COULD
appear, and that had everything to do with my upset also. I could say and
happily admit the possibility of what I feared arising was almost impossible,
but the conditioning was/is so damn REAL, what I felt was larger than what I knew.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
So, I communicated.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What happened then? I cried anew at the grace, beauty, love,
and understanding shown to me by sharing something affecting me so heavily. Also being shown that who created this
conditioning is nothing like or could ever be like this force of goodness that
was communicating the feeling away for me. It’s stupid –but I needed that. It
was like they stood there and said “I’m not your dad. I’m nothing like your
dad, and I’m NEVER going to harm you”. Only, all of that got said by being
reminded WHO I WAS talking to, and that person only knows kindness.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I will undo what that man did to me and I will continue undoing it using tools he
didn’t ever use. Shouts and threats aren’t communication. He will forever be a
really good bad example. I will continue to accept the quality examples like my
wise 20yo, and my beautiful, graceful friend –full of pure goodness.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-16267939522892758062019-04-21T16:07:00.003-06:002019-04-25T09:12:22.912-06:00Misappropriated Forgiveness<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
((I wrote this over a year ago, and I didn’t share it at the
time. In typing it up from my notebook, It sounds pretty harsh, and yet, I am
not disagreeing with my words. I’ve referenced this many times when talking to
people, so I actually forgot it only lived in my notebook. I think it’s time I
put it out there for reference online. I’m going to keep the harsh tone. I must
have had attitude for a reason when I wrote it. Sometimes mental light bulbs
are like that.))</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
One of the best things to come to me with age is my
acceptance I can question everything and I need no permission. This state of
mind that allows me to ask “Why?” to the most basic of concepts -is <b>the
liberation of mind</b>. How this decision of mental freedom didn’t come to me
at 16, 19, 21, or even 30, I will never fully know. I just have theories. Maybe
everyone else has had this “question everything” permission for a long time and
that is why I’m finding it such a big deal -it’s new to me. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Well, relatively
speaking, but it’s growing. It stared by questioning kindness and if I’m not
Jesus, do I have to be kind to those that prove they don’t deserve my kindness?
And for the record, “Jesushood” is not a personal goal of mine. It was the
misappropriated use of the word forgiveness that a friend showed me this questionable belief
that the conscious decision to “forgive” could somehow fix a situation. Then I
suddenly saw the word as moot for many instances.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I think we humans have a bunch of things ass-backwards. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYT5as60xY_oRRZqcu9jl-EyKH-O_fnRb_VR19nU7RpslHsU1JdGW5S8d0tiFlS2aCD6bo_PabvuO30_0lY3crqpx5aeQex-LRIYvzWdw-UsvXTjXI5mX18usZ3ucHygoW4AUJhkdRf74/s1600/misappropriatedforgiveness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYT5as60xY_oRRZqcu9jl-EyKH-O_fnRb_VR19nU7RpslHsU1JdGW5S8d0tiFlS2aCD6bo_PabvuO30_0lY3crqpx5aeQex-LRIYvzWdw-UsvXTjXI5mX18usZ3ucHygoW4AUJhkdRf74/s320/misappropriatedforgiveness.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a>These aren’t her words I use to tell this, but she basically
was saying that she felt she could move on and get past a “non-ex boyfriend”
(loaded term) if she could just forgive him for being promiscuous. Which is to
say what he was doing that was upsetting to her was not going to stop. Wouldn’t
her ability to “just forgive” make everything all better in the upsetting “relationship”?
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Yeah, NO. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Let’s say she could forgive him, what then? Does his
continual treatment of her make her feel anything pleasant? And since it’s the
biggest deal to me, I have to ask: What then happens to her self esteem? This
particular application of forgiveness creates a monster and a doormat. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
And lets look at the core of what she said and ask, why
would she believe in forgiveness? Because just like everything in life, we are <b>told</b>
we have to be the personification of all these things, and not just accept it, but
believe it, be happy with it, and do it. Not only am I questioning things I
never did before, I’m questioning that I have to believe what I’m told to
believe.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Beep. Restart.</div>
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<br /></div>
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</div>
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It is in the willingness to look at a word or emotion and
study it that allows me to conclude completely new information about it.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Brené Brown has done this with shame and vulnerability, shedding light on
things we think we are so familiar with. But when you begin to question these words
attached to feelings, you find more aspects to them that give rise to “what if
I say no?” And I’m not turning this into a refusal to forgive. I’m saying what
if forgiveness is not what a situation requires? Because what changes after
forgiving in a situation that cannot change after forgiveness is applied? The
only answer I can conclude is a LIE. The only thing that changes is that a
person is now lying to themselves.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In the need to be clear, I’m not talking about a situation where one person
said sorry after hurting another and then both move forward with the apology
and forgiveness applied. That IS how forgiveness should work. An apology, a
change, and new direction for BOTH. No need to stay in the past.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This also applies in the reverse when you don't want to have anything to do with a person, but they should apologize and DO. Go on,
allow change, forgive, and move forward feeling better. You don’t have to then
have them in your life, walking your new direction <i>with </i>you. No. But when
communication happens, and a person apologizes, accept it for your own benefit.
There is much power in an apology. EVEN IF you don’t want that person
apologizing to be talking to you again. You can still benefit from the apology
and move forward in forgiveness as it applies to YOUR benefit.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In a situation where forgiveness can’t be applied because a person is dead, or
no longer in your life, and no apology is being given…I would suggest that
forgiveness is still moot. What needs to happen there is you need to sensibly
look at the past and set it down, making the decision to move forward without
it in your hands. When change is impossible, change you. Set the past down.
Move on. Don’t walk backwards. Acknowledge you’ve crossed a bridge, and keep
walking.</div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
In talking about the decision to use forgiveness as a way to
tell yourself you have done something that needed to happen in order for your
mental and emotional comfort…I am posing this idea that I can choose mental and
emotional comfort in the decision to move on without applying misappropriated
forgiveness. I have a feeling we are using this word in too many places where
we need more words.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I’m going to go ahead and say what I feel like I haven’t
been saying. If someone treated me in a way I shouldn’t have been treated and
it happened many times, (until they were either forced to stop or I removed
myself from the situation) if they didn’t affect or apply any change, is there
any point where my forgiveness does anything? Saying or feeling forgiveness would
only change the story in my head, which to be frank sounds like an unhealthy
story. Why not apply KNOWLEDGE instead of forgiveness? What if instead I
consciously say this person will never change, but I’m going to change the way
I see myself and the way I see them. I’m going to ACKNOWLEDGE the poor quality of
that human and acknowledge my greatness in my ability to move on. It’s not
forgiveness. It’s being WISE. It’s bigger and better than forgiveness because it
doesn’t make me a doormat. It insists I’m not. Nor does it invite the person to
remain in my life. Forgiveness as it is regularly misappropriated, is
permission to stay who they are and usually to stay in your life. No, THAT is
where the change needs to be taking place. Not the application of a non-applicable
word, just so you can pretend things are “all better”. Don’t forgive, be wise!
Wise to who they are, wise to what isn’t possible, wise to who you are, and
wise in a way that stops the situation your old self would be trying to apply
forgiveness to and then not benefiting from any change.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-63971304588464808892019-03-26T21:03:00.001-06:002019-04-25T09:25:43.277-06:00BY FORCE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Dearheart,<br />
<br />
In the midst of writing about tragedy and pain, and how so few seem to escape it, you told me of your loss today. My heart aches for you, I'm powerless and not even near to hold you. What is in my power under the circumstances? To say I love you. To let you know I want to do anything I can to help you, and the reality is, I cannot replace your loss or rewind time. If only I could.<br />
<br />
My writing is rather interrupted by my worrying about you, so the last thing I feel is eloquent. I will have to revisit what I was wanting to share, and instead give you what I wrote this weekend as I listened to multiple incredible women share their stories of a life roughly lived.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFQVOUavQyJtHl64cinmwUWKj2X8fRimrSPBdwigh3GPqhsIb5n-79LaaEHwT8ZjFNs5sxA8FqI7jiu_k3_3wgY6VxkFTm0z607xyMuGe8g-DGUZZHLP6qBTWRB_MD3WR-Cwoukr9Kt2A/s1600/IMG_20190326_203734_846.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1083" data-original-width="1600" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFQVOUavQyJtHl64cinmwUWKj2X8fRimrSPBdwigh3GPqhsIb5n-79LaaEHwT8ZjFNs5sxA8FqI7jiu_k3_3wgY6VxkFTm0z607xyMuGe8g-DGUZZHLP6qBTWRB_MD3WR-Cwoukr9Kt2A/s320/IMG_20190326_203734_846.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Loss, pain, heartache and hardship seem to be part of the human condition. We need to remember this, and add as an even bigger reminder that there are people who want to help you get through it. No, you don't feel like laughing, no, you don't feel like socializing, no, you don't feel like going out and having a fun time. But you know what? Those are things that WILL help you, and those are things that those of us who love you CAN DO.<br />
<br />
The pain will not magically disappear, your grief WILL be real, EVEN IF you allow yourself to see some beauty and feel some joy irrespective of your pain. Gah, I want to dress your wounds... I want to hold you... I want to help you heal. Please know that it is YOU who says to YOUR Dearhearts that you will receive their help. We are here for you.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFQVOUavQyJtHl64cinmwUWKj2X8fRimrSPBdwigh3GPqhsIb5n-79LaaEHwT8ZjFNs5sxA8FqI7jiu_k3_3wgY6VxkFTm0z607xyMuGe8g-DGUZZHLP6qBTWRB_MD3WR-Cwoukr9Kt2A/s1600/IMG_20190326_203734_846.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
I'm going to share two things I wrote recently. They both apply to you today. By Force is the first, and what I felt as I was humbled to be in the presence of others in pain.<br />
To Be Held is the second, and it is a poem I wrote recently. (I usually don't share poems publicly)<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">By Force</span><br />
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">
If we actually got to choose we would choose ease, beauty, perfection, happiness, and fun. We would choose a path of joy and we would revel in it continuously.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">
But that's not what happens. It isn't tidy, it isn't smooth, its a mess and shit happens. No choice, no permission, full of pain and often awful.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">
Other people make choices that DO affect us, and we don't always have a say in the measure to which we are hit. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">
So what do you do? Crumble. Break. Fall apart, and sob. Stop eating, stop getting out of bed, and wish that IF the pain and sadness CAN'T disappear, that YOU will.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">
And how long does it last? In some ways, forever. Yep. But that's because nothing gets erased. How long it hurts is up to how long healing takes. A scratch can heal quickly, but a severed leg will take time.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">
That doesn't mean you shouldn't heal. Be patient, know it's happening because that's what the body does; it heals, -so let it. As time passes, as you walk down your path, accept you can turn and look at the past, but that's not where you are. You've past the past, leaving it behind you doesn't erase it, the scars are there. That part of you that insists on remembering-will. But don't turn around and keep walking back to the past, believing you must keep it near. Continually walking back is stopping you from getting to wonderful things up ahead.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">
To keep walking is how you grow. Your pains, your heartaches, your sorrow is how you get stronger, braver, wiser. And none of this started by choice. It happened by force.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">
DO you feel stronger? Do you feel brave? Maybe. Maybe not. But you're growing, you're learning, you're becoming...a hero-by force.<br />
<br />
<br />
To Be Held<br />
<br />
It's not that I need you. It's more that you make me feel safe. Some days it's less about life, and more about now. Those times my desire is simple, I become as basic as it gets. I only have one wish, and that is to be held.<br />
<br />
Today was no harder than others. It had its ups and downs. When I sit and ask what I want, I can only point to one thing. And that is simple really, just to be held.<br />
<br />
I know it's not appropriate to ask. I know it would seem like more. I don't want to complicate, muddy, or label. It's not a big deal. I'm happy to go without, I always do. It would however be so nice -to be held.<br />
<br />
I know you are going through things. None of us get off scot free. We each pay the price of being human, and I see you know what I mean. Don't do what I'm doing. Don't insist on being strong. Because I'm here if you need, -just to be held.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
I won't claim you are weak. I won't label it anything. Your pain is not mine to bear. So when you aren't feeling strong, you won't even have to speak. Just turn up and say nothing, -to be held.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Tinos;">(This sunset photo I took tonight. As soon as I saw it I thought of you for two reasons. The sunset reminds me of you often, and it looked symbolic of your heart; split in two. I love you)</span></div>
Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-36811121510548971752019-03-01T16:35:00.000-07:002019-03-01T18:29:26.884-07:00HONEST WITH YOURSELFI once had a boyfriend insist he wasn’t lying while he was
completely unable to be honest with himself about his feelings. Ya, no shit
Homie, you can’t easily make up a lie about something when you refuse to admit
to yourself the truth. The only person he was actually lying to was himself,
because he didn’t know how to be honest with himself.<br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I ended up seeing he had a lot of issues and his refusal to
look inward, know himself, understand his feelings, acknowledge what he was
ignoring, no… it wasn’t so much lies as it was a TOTAL LACK of honesty. These
are two different things.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpFmWyHx0pQ1qd5xacG_jNk7M-ZvHlPKLC2EIgQxLB1LIF45fG1_7qc6iNemft2vM_VolY6gQqxqmMJbacABn1_slXv6fmX7hgk45JfrsGtU6MC27kWMlV1v_K9thm7yVtDE7binC-Lc0/s1600/honest+with+yourself.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1004" data-original-width="1600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpFmWyHx0pQ1qd5xacG_jNk7M-ZvHlPKLC2EIgQxLB1LIF45fG1_7qc6iNemft2vM_VolY6gQqxqmMJbacABn1_slXv6fmX7hgk45JfrsGtU6MC27kWMlV1v_K9thm7yVtDE7binC-Lc0/s320/honest+with+yourself.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
The reason I bring this up is not at all related to the ex-boyfriend, it’s
because I see that many find it so hard to be honest with themselves; about all
sorts of things. The more honest I am with myself the less “confused” I feel
about anything. So I personally want to be brutally honest. I hate confusion.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We all have “things” that exist in our minds through
conditioning that we tell ourselves we are not supposed to feel. And then, how
often when you feel these unavoidable and unacceptable feeling do you say to
yourself: “Hey, why am I feeling this? How big a deal is this? I’ve been
feeling this for a long time now.”?<br />
Ya, NEVER.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why is that?<br />
Good question. Because you have in your head some reason why you SHOULDN’T. You
can’t be honest and just admit you DO. So whether you ignore your
“unacceptable” feelings or you make up a story to tell yourself instead… you
refuse to be honest.<br />
<br />
By doing this, and hanging onto the thing you are telling yourself INSTEAD, you
allow something that is unhealthy for you and you make it MORE unhealthy. The
irony is that if you were to just look at it and be Honest, you could very well
solve the problem you have or at least be healthy with it by doing the honesty
thing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Part of why being honest with yourself matters so much is
because of where you go mentally when you keep refusing to find the honesty to
say what’s really up. To DEAL on a conscious level with what’s happening in your
heart, mind, life, wherever, is how you become more mentally healthy.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And if you think I’m referring to only big
things-Addictions, Affairs, Drugs…NO! I mean ANYTHING!! Whether it’s a
friendship that is harmful, a job that robs your joy, fill in the blank…because
everyone is struggling to look at the uncomfortable parts of life and just be
honest.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And you know it stands to reason…if you CAN’T be honest with
yourself, are you really being honest with others? And your inability to be
honest with yourself is almost never invisible. People can see it. So what do
you think they think you are doing with them? Being DIShonest likely.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The stories you are telling yourself about the things you
can’t look in the eye and admit to being there makes you a story-teller. NOT an
honest person. How many stories are you telling, and wouldn’t you rather be
healthy and just be honest? It’s far easier than you think.<br />
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Back when I too was afraid of honesty, I was at least
willing to admit I was chicken-shit. If you aren’t familiar with the term, it
means scared/afraid. I was too chicken-shit to ask myself what I was feeling,
and I was double that amount of chicken-shit when it came to considering
answers. How did I get out of it? My discomfort from my lack of honesty
outweighed the fear of my chicken-shit state…and I quit closing my eyes.<br />
<br />
From there I learned that like most excuses we tell ourselves, and the stories
we come up with, the truth and honesty is actually FAR FROM scary. I have not
had any of the honesty jump up and stab me when I looked at it. It did nothing
TO me. I look, feel, and UNDERSTAND. Being in a position of understanding is
one of the most comfortable places to be, EVEN WHEN what you are looking at or
admitting to is a “bad” thing. (I don’t say bad meaning bad, I say bad because
of the nature of what you can’t be honest with yourself about…assuming its bad.)<br />
<br />
I have a blog post called <a href="http://www.natandchat.com/2017/12/shelves-tables.html" target="_blank">Shelves and Tables</a>. This is similar to taking a
“thing” and setting it on the table in front of you. Removing yourself, and
stepping back to look at it from all angles. It’s liberating, it clarifying,
it’s informational on many scales, and more than anything it’s HEALTHY. Do this
with honesty and you won’t be sorry. You’ll be clearer in your own mind, and in
the eyes of others.</div>
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<br /></div>
<iframe allow="autoplay" frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/583629060&color=%23ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=true&show_comments=false&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true" width="100%"></iframe>Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-47972044457502416192019-02-16T16:54:00.000-07:002019-02-24T17:37:43.816-07:00SEEN<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s been a couple years, and I thought I was “over it”, I thought my little
wounds were healed, and I thought the history didn’t matter. I’ve moved on and
so has he.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMhMf3cyhAgW1rNJaykhI5r7ZG9IGiB0eQe5r3hdAD1tut1xCvOtE9zJQEvOlWemhDyJ7tsJubvERBniL-_5UMFGLsS3IKe4P1ZwIw_ifRZdEGXYtCa41qgUlF49NQxlrzAu1cg8RvUYo/s1600/seen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1240" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMhMf3cyhAgW1rNJaykhI5r7ZG9IGiB0eQe5r3hdAD1tut1xCvOtE9zJQEvOlWemhDyJ7tsJubvERBniL-_5UMFGLsS3IKe4P1ZwIw_ifRZdEGXYtCa41qgUlF49NQxlrzAu1cg8RvUYo/s400/seen.jpg" width="308" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then we ran into one another, I was in a space where I knew
he would be, and I felt strong enough to be there without feeling it needed to
matter we had both stepped away from our once close friendship. Nothing got
said, so I was comfortable that we could be in the same space and neither of us
had to feel any glass underfoot, or vibrations of discomfort due to proximity. <br />
<br />
I could feel he knew I was there, and his continual walking past me confirmed
this. I’m not an expert on body language, but I took this to mean I
had been seen.<br />
<br />
Interestingly, our friendship ended with me feeling entirely unseen, unappreciated,
with my words twisted, and my heart a little stepped on after the realization
that someone who mattered so much to me was not someone I mattered to. The
irony of the word “seen” after he’d read a message from me and wouldn’t bother
to reply got harder and harder as I felt more and more “unseen”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was at this same
time that I had other friends showing me they could see me, and they didn’t
even have to try to convey I mattered, I knew it without question. The difference
was night and day and led to a post I wrote called <a href="http://www.natandchat.com/2016/11/who-matters.html" target="_blank">Who Matters?</a><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
(Have you ever had a friend change on you? To the point you
can’t tell if they are even hearing you, or seeing you, or <i>getting</i> you
in any form? If you’ve experienced this you know what I mean when I say you
start to shut down, you stop saying what’s on your mind, and you start figuring
out how to word every little thing so as not to be misunderstood, because they
will either easily offend, or twist what you are saying further into something
they can be upset by. This is very possibly a disorder of sorts on their part,
but on your part, this feeling of being unable to be genuine literally makes
you disingenuous because of all the thinking you have to do before you speak.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was on the second occasion recently when we saw one another that he had the balls to come up to
me, take my hand, hug me, and say he was glad to see me and that he had missed
me. His humility shocked me. His genuineness was palpable, and I was seeing the
version of him I knew and loved before he made me feel so confused by all the misunderstandings. I was almost surprised by the melting effect
his words had on my grudge since I didn’t realize I was carrying it until that
moment it started melting. He was apologizing and it was actually what I
needed. How crazy that something so “small” could have such a tangible effect
that I literally physically felt a morphing of my feelings as he spoke.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Fast forward a couple weeks and we were at the same place again. Without
hesitation he approached me, told me how happy he was to see me again, and said
he wants me to come back. He told me he’s accepting how imperfect he is, that
he’s learning to love himself, and he wants to mend or attempt to heal the
interactions of his past that hurt others. Without being interested in placing
blame, I acknowledged my role, what head space I was in, and then I started
remembering my last conversation with him that was essentially our goodbye two
years ago. Again his apologizing and my remembering of the sadness melted more
of my grudge and hurt and it started to pour down my cheeks without any control
on my part. We stood outside and since it was dark, I hoped there was no light
to reflect my tears and give away my melting. This wasn’t the moment I wanted
to look so vulnerable and affected by something I had been convincing myself I
was over. I take being a friend very seriously, and having put so much into
that friendship, for it to end with so much sadness and confusion on my part, I
totally took for granted how much I still needed to hear words that included me
being seen, that he was sorry and that he wanted me to be seen more.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On one hand I feel so weak admitting all this. That I
couldn’t heal something by myself and move on like I assumed I could. Despite
my insisting I only had “little wounds”. But the action of an apology, and his
discussing the past did affect me so thoroughly I cry even as I type this. And
yet…this is how fucking huge an apology is. Sometimes our role in an event is
mainly as witness, we see and feel the choices and actions of another without
any control over their decisions, their words, their consequences, and it’s
ultimately self respect that is the ride outta there. An apology is like a
magical salve to a scar that really won’t ever fully heal without it. And to
fully heal is not always what you get either, but any level of healing is
healing. And an apology <i>is</i> a big deal.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is also why if one decides that an apology has made it
possible to trust again, to have that trust violated or abused; the wound is
not just open anew, but deeper than before. We beat ourselves up for believing the
apology, for handing over trust, and since we hurt all over again, the
experience morphs from one of benefit and learning to one of pain and closure;
locking up the heart with frantic hands of “never again, I can’t believe I let
this happen”. To be giving someone an apology is to be in a place of power. It’s
also a place of humility. If <i>as the giver</i> of an apology, you do not
stick with your words, staying a changed person, you have new power to make
yourself look worse than ever, to hurt the person more than ever, and the
amazingness you could have created becomes an abyss of worthless pain.<br />
<br />
As he apologized, he used words I have used many times. That he needs to
benefit from the pain. That he must take the painful lessons and become a
better person because the alternative is unacceptable. “Life is short” he said,
“I get overwhelmed. I end up hurting people. I’m terribly imperfect, but I need
to love myself despite these things. Because it then becomes easier to treat
others the way I should.”<br />
<br />
Like a mom who is always preaching self love, to hear it said back to me
through HIS realizing this on his own; I feel a sense of pride. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hope many
things in this moment: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
*that he always remembers this,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
*that he flourishes in
understanding how much better life gets as you continue to love yourself,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
*and
that following through with these realizations are like exercising muscles. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s a continual thing. You will only benefit with strength if you continue to
exercise.<br />
<br />
I love you sweet friend. I dream of your success in all aspects of life, but
most importantly the success that happens inside your heart and mind. Please
don’t give me reason to feel the frantic panic of needing to lock up my heart
from you. Please continue to see me, please accept I’m not perfect either, and
that enough pain has passed for you that much transformation can and should take place.</div>
<br />
<iframe allow="autoplay" frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/580742238&color=%23ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=true&show_comments=false&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true" width="100%"></iframe>Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-66549709304531050112019-02-05T09:11:00.003-07:002019-02-26T10:16:37.470-07:00IT'S ME<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
”It’s not you, it’s me.” If only we could all see and accept that so much of
what we experience/feel/believe/see is not because of other people. It’s
because of who we are as an individual. Over the years of relationships,
friendships, experiences, hurts and happiness’s we build a construct of who we
are, and how we will see things. It doesn’t matter what any one person does
toward me, around me, to me, I will decide to act/react/speak/avoid/attach to
anything because of <b>who I am</b>. It is who I have become. This is true for
each of us. All our interactions have everything to do with what you are going
through, what you have gone through, and to say “It’s not you –it's me” is the
reality of it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
How much can you tolerate being treated a certain way? How much attitude do you
have for a specific personality trait? How will you respond when your
personally assigned “lines” finally get crossed? That is up for each of us to
decide. And so, to be frank, it is completely within the decision of each
individual whether or not they can/will get along with another individual. This
is the same for the people you find yourself connecting with, attaching to,
falling in love with, and generally adoring.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg88DSKRgc6Cm4iMOAWHp1oLEKq6Mhmpt3cMPjaHtT9hgmEgsNebrDXs0GmOD_xgCyKHwYWOjyQv1PjGGoCkzdUC2EOgLimzLKNlVRbPf_765u_hr9vqbN2FZe1iuy0VfrK2XP1rzt9hTk/s1600/its+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1490" data-original-width="1490" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg88DSKRgc6Cm4iMOAWHp1oLEKq6Mhmpt3cMPjaHtT9hgmEgsNebrDXs0GmOD_xgCyKHwYWOjyQv1PjGGoCkzdUC2EOgLimzLKNlVRbPf_765u_hr9vqbN2FZe1iuy0VfrK2XP1rzt9hTk/s320/its+me.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve learned I’m not someone who is good around negative
people. They are draining for me and I find I have very little to talk to them
about because they tend to carry around emotions I don’t. Through my life and
childhood I’ve had opportunity to try and “get over” this fact, when what has
actually happened is I’ve learned to see it clearly, spot it quickly, and I
have to stay away from the negativity. No, this isn’t always possible, so in the
instances I have no choice, I do my best.<br />
<br />
I recently experienced a negative person explaining that something I did in an
effort to stand up for myself was enough of an attack on her and her time, that
she raised her voice and demanded an apology for what transpired after I stood
up for myself and made a decision about how I was being treated. (which was to
remove myself from the building) Now, since this person is always negative and
she didn’t want to be even remotely supportive of my standing up for myself,
she decided to take the negative route, throw attitude all over the room and
demand <i>I</i> should be apologizing to <i>her</i>.<br />
<br />
Ya, no. I stood up for myself yet again. I said the person that created the
issue that had me leave the building should apologize to her, because their
actions affected more than me. She got louder and insisted once more I
apologize. I got louder and repeated myself, “I will never apologize for
standing up for myself” and I walked away unwilling to argue what was already
clear. A difference of perspective.<br />
<br />
My response to a “demand” also comes back to my experiences, my history, and my
current knowledge of who <i>she</i> is in <i>my</i> eyes. How I respond to her
is not about her. It’s about me. How she responds to me, is not about me, it’s
about her.<br />
<br />
You captain your ship, I captain mine. I won’t sail over to “I’m sorry” when
it’s undeserved, and uncalled for. Instead, I sail on! It’s my choice to
act/react however I see fit in a situation based on <i>who I am</i>. And if
removing myself from the building is hard for her to accept, she might want to
consider -my decisions on how I react to the way I’m treated, are mine to make.
<br />
<br />
The older I get the more I see we are all so different, we won’t be “everyone’s
friend”. There will be people that don’t like you, there will be people who
don’t agree with you. How you act/react/speak/choose will be your call. Some
may choose confrontation, I choose civil disobedience. You be your captain, I
will be mine, and we will have to accept we don’t get our decisions “passed
off” by one another. You see; I’m living my life, not yours. </div>
<br />
<iframe allow="autoplay" frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/581716578&color=%23ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=true&show_comments=false&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true" width="100%"></iframe>Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-60507298616088709092019-01-23T22:12:00.000-07:002019-02-14T23:57:01.197-07:00HEY, "FRIEND"...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
...what do ya know, you're getting a blog post... Not
because you're so great, but because people like you need to know that people
like me see you for what you are.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And what are you? That would be labeling you... I'm happy
not to come up with any one or two words to describe you, because you have many
things that make you stand out to people like me. In fact, it's your insistence
on labeling ME, that has me writing this.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes I'm bugged that "friend" is one of the few
titles I can use for you because of our weekly interaction for almost a year
now. What makes writing this sit even more uncomfortable, is your position over
me. Frankly, anyone in an overseeing role to others should be working harder at
making everyone feel part of a "team" so to speak, not continually
ostracizing them by including them only to ignore them, tease them, bully them,
and make them prey to your mind games. In addition to finding every opportunity
to call them "weird".</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your know-it-all attitude and arguing gets old when you
regularly have to admit not knowing anything about the subject you are
insisting you are right on. It's even more amazing that you do it over subjects
I do have knowledge on. Can't you hear yourself? Really? What do you think I
think of you????</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I've wondered if the way you treat me has anything to do
with me being the same age as your mother. She had you young, so you might not
feel respect for her like you should... I dunno. Maybe you think she's stupid
or "weird" too... but your continual desire to argue anything,
including things I know, is how you do so well at showing me on a regular basis
that you are the fool by assuming I am.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgvY6CJ8ZZShCm68NTCtH9oGlZVQbxgCupMNMIaYbmbgERcUyckCCDem-VrDBjCJFxQWhymSr8Hxxm_87OsudIRV6Zxl1laUJ3d9XcJkCtIfwt19H_XqYpfycpfwf-cNhWaXJzbVT1Xmk/s1600/YOU_R_WEIRD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1488" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgvY6CJ8ZZShCm68NTCtH9oGlZVQbxgCupMNMIaYbmbgERcUyckCCDem-VrDBjCJFxQWhymSr8Hxxm_87OsudIRV6Zxl1laUJ3d9XcJkCtIfwt19H_XqYpfycpfwf-cNhWaXJzbVT1Xmk/s320/YOU_R_WEIRD.jpg" width="296" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"True wisdom is knowing what you don't know"
-Confucius</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am not like you. I'm me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I'm a girl, I build stuff, I create stuff, I write stuff, I
paint stuff, and I like to do lots of STUFF. If I don't fit some preconceived
mold you've created and you feel the need to keep calling me weird, go ahead..
but one day you will have to get over it. There's a bunch of weird people out
here in this world. Many of us feel free to be ourselves, we refuse to see your
boxes, and we are going to keep doing our stuff. I can't believe you think
everyone should be like you...but you DO keep showing me you are too stupid for
an expanded mind, so after hearing "you're weird" today for the
millionth time, I finally have a reply. "Fuck YOU".</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Did you somehow miss that the world is FULL of people that I
have to compare you against? Have you not considered you stand out like a sore
thumb with your asshole actions and your judgmental words? I think you just
believe you can get away with it by acting cute, pretending to be young and fun
while you pull off "asshole" nicely. That actually speaks to why it
keeps happening, you pull off closed-minded-stupidity AND I put up with it
constantly. This isn't high school...as much as you want it to be with your
clickyness, and your brand name fashion putdowns. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the adult world, we don't have "the popular
kids", "the nerds", and "the wierdo's". Your insistence
doesn't change the world, it just shows me who YOU are.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I'm reminded of how I felt the first time I watched The
Greatest Showman, and heard the song "This is me".</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know I don't stand out like a bearded lady, fuck, you'd
never shut up if I had a beard, but I know I'm different, and I don't care if
people see it. What I do care about is people who just can't wrap their fucking
head around it enough to never shut up about it and call me weird for what I
eat, for how I dress, for the words I use, for my height, for every gawd-damn
thing you can think of... so I'll leave you with some of the lines that I can
sing to you with a middle finger in the air.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When the sharpest words want to cut me down, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I'm going to send a flood, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
going to drown them out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am brave, I am bruised, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am who I'm meant to be.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Look out -cuz here I come, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I'm marching on to the beat I drum.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I'm not scared to be seen.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>I make no apologies. <o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>This is me.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<br />Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-71260787210915705932019-01-05T15:02:00.002-07:002019-02-26T12:00:38.029-07:00BUTTERFLIES<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s come to my attention that not everyone gets butterflies
when they come in contact with someone they “like”. (You know what I mean)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s my lack of butterflies the majority of the time that
the arrival of butterflies has me in analyzation mode yet again. And then I learned that butterflies are not analogous for everyone, or even universally existing.<br />
<br />
I’m trying to look at the situations that brings butterflies, and
wondering how to explain feeling them to someone who doesn’t have them.
It’s challenging. It’s kind of like having ASMR. If you don’t have it (and I
don’t) I can only imagine what it feels like when friends that do have it -explain
what causes their symptoms, and how those symptoms feel. I know what a tingle
is, I know what extreme calmness feels like, so I am able to understand.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I doubt I would be writing about this if I weren’t single. I
think being single provides an opportunity to be extra honest since we often
find that butterflies disappear once in a relationship. Which is also
part of what I want to elaborate on. That disappearance and if it’s inevitable.<br />
<br />
I’m not going to go into a story of who I feel butterflies for, I want to start
with basic facts about why I think butterflies are felt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(For me anyway…clearly I can’t write for
anyone else.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To explain, I have to start with flattery. It seems butterflies
are hugely related to flattery, so it makes sense to admit: I’m not someone who
flatters easily. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had a friend years ago that would post ads on Craig’s list
to get creepy attention. She was flattered by the replies, and it didn’t matter
what they said, what they looked like, or any factor. She only needed the one
aspect to feel flattery--a reply. I may have sounded very harsh the first time
she brought up she did this. I was so confused and shocked that
irrespective of a persons mind, face, attitude, personality, location, job,
criminal record, integrity…she could feel flattered by anything, and get
excited to read her emails. I am never going to understand that. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
For me, flattery ONLY has to do with who the person is and what they are saying.
My disingenuous meter is rather fine tuned, and if a person tries to compliment
me without knowing who I am, my meter is on full read. If flattery is felt, I
tend to know who they are. The degree of flattery usually depends on how well I
know them, and even what I think of them through an interaction history.
Another factor is how long I have had them in my world, and what they have
shown me in WHO they are during that time. But most importantly, MY opinion of
them has to be high in order for large flattery to exist.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is not to say that I have to know a person only for a
long time and know them really well. Some people have the ability to show you
who they are in the words they choose, in the vibe they carry around with their
facial expressions, and their ability to come across as genuine. It’s similar
to clean air and smog. A person who carries a clean air vibe is a totally
different person than one that is walking around with smog. Maybe everyone is
not sensitive to the air a person carries, but as a historic enabler, I learned
very young how to read people and watch for details. I should also admit that
many people carry neither clean air or smog… I don’t know how to explain that
part of my perception, only that they are the majority of people. I think I can
break it down this way…Most people don’t give off their WHO they are as they
walk around… maybe 50% of people aren’t allowing themselves to be read. 25% of people
seem to be unaware that their shitty attitude is like a cloud around them that affects
their face, their walk, and the way they feel when they stand near you. Then, another 25% of people put out their general goodness in their demeanor; the face, the
walk, the voice, the attitude… these are the people I connect with and make my
friends. I know better to leave the other 75% of people alone, and that has
been one of the best lessons I’ve learned about friends and myself in recent years.<br />
<br />
So… looking at these types, I’ll call them the silent, the cloudy, and the
clear. And I must add that my perception of these three types of people are
exclusive to ME and MY perception. As well as my history, experiences, and
decisions. A clear person for me can be a cloudy person for another. This too
has been obvious on many occasions. (I hope this is starting to make sense.)<br />
<br />
I wrote a post a little while back titled <a href="http://www.natandchat.com/2018/02/my-who-your-who-who-are-you.html" target="_blank">My Who, Your Who, Who are You?</a> And
that is good backup for this post if you care to read it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So lets jump back to Butterflies. I have found that tiny butterflies
can be experienced in general compliments that feel nice. Complimentary
Butterflies I’ll call them. Those aren’t what I’m writing about today. The
butterflies that spurred this desire to explain today are Attraction
Butterflies, and Attraction Butterflies I’ve decided are not entirely mine.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp1A_MIikGxpnhi7YZm0Zr8cfvzGroic7ugQivGSm07VZ3lKtOiEsSUKh8LkHnODdO1LIB8ubDuOWfEYRj89gRd6GCFDl4KRfpXz43LvTdsQVrMInHn3H2mpZDIFLF3KJcpz-cxmGzA9I/s1600/Butterflies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1404" data-original-width="1600" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp1A_MIikGxpnhi7YZm0Zr8cfvzGroic7ugQivGSm07VZ3lKtOiEsSUKh8LkHnODdO1LIB8ubDuOWfEYRj89gRd6GCFDl4KRfpXz43LvTdsQVrMInHn3H2mpZDIFLF3KJcpz-cxmGzA9I/s320/Butterflies.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shit, I’m trying so hard not to tell a specific story, but I might have to.
After spending a number of months watching a guy that comes into my general
vicinity, after having a few conversations, after saying hello to him countless
times, I find that when I walk near him I feel Attraction Butterflies. It’s
like they are flying around HIM, not flying inside me, and the proximity to
him, dictates how big those butterflies are. I also like the way he speaks to
me, he’s intelligent, he is clear, he smiles when I look at him, and he listens
when I speak. His clear air, his genuineness, and his ability to show me he sees
“My Who” are all present. So although I don’t KNOW him well, or many details
about him, all factors are in place for his words to flatter me, and for me to
experience butterflies. This “perfect combination” of factors is so rare in
this day and age, I’m thinking I’m an oddball unable to change with the times,
and I will remain “old-school” in this, because I don’t want it to change. I
like it this way. I like reaching a point of Attraction Butterflies, because
it’s an educated place to be.<br />
<br />
This is like going back to the world of dating before cell phones, dating
sites, or anything outside of actual human connection that happened only in
person. This is how people fell in love “old-school” and decided to experience
life together. It was actual mental connection, then actual physical
connection. Most of which happened at a normal pace in a healthy world of actual human
interaction. NOT via any intermediary device.<br />
<br />
That healthy world started changing… my story about Craig’s list and my friend
is a good example of that…that was before smartphones and apps got involved in
human interaction on intimate levels.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I must not forget the part where butterflies disappear. This
too is related to what you feel from the other person, and I feel like its part
of proof that butterflies are not necessarily yours alone, they are directly
related to what the other person is putting out or not. I believe that people
very much in love, don’t stop having butterflies if they don’t stop seeing the
clarity of one another, if they don’t stop saying things that flatter, if they
stay genuine and open; actually putting effort into not allowing the familiar
to turn into the mundane. I believe present people who care about keeping
mundane from knocking on the door are the people that get to keep experiencing
the other person’s feelings, and reveling in Attraction Butterflies. This means
maintaining trust, willingness to compliment, awareness of intonation, and many
more things that come with a healthy relationship that can be called solid. The
people who have THAT don’t have it by chance. They give a shit, they know their
Who…and it’s a two part process; both individuals have to be this way.<br />
<br />
So here I am, single in this world of connection that mostly happens via
technology, and I am not feeling flattery through it, I am not feeling
butterflies through it, and I am feeling entirely “old-school” needing actual
time and actual interaction to feel actual feelings. I think I’m healthy. I
think butterflies the way I feel them are healthy, and I wish for that world to
come back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As for my handsome example of getting to feel Attraction
Butterflies…he’s not available. Is he attracted to me? Not sure. I can guess
so, because few feelings so strong that are vibrationally felt when you go near
a person--are imagined. They tend to be there because of BOTH parties, not
because they are simply wished for. So is he feeling something? Probably. After
all, if he is going to be genuine, sincere, and act as though he “sees” me, he
too will pick up on the butterflies flying around me. Will he feel them? Not
sure, remember that part is exclusive to the individual. Will he feel
something? I bet so. It would be interesting to read his take on it, but for now,
in true Natalie form, I’m going to be clear to myself about me, and not ask for
clarity from him.<br />
<br />
I’m maddening in my desire to allow others their privacy. ;) With my lack of
questions, I’d make a terrible reporter.</div>
<iframe allow="autoplay" frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/581765100&color=%23ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=true&show_comments=false&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true" width="100%"></iframe>
Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-26253990886270543212018-12-02T22:14:00.000-07:002019-01-07T16:20:14.677-07:00MOTHERING<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not afraid of dying. I’m afraid of living when my mom
dies. I’m not a mama’s girl by the usual definition, I’m more of a girl adored
by her mama. I’m also a girl who never understood, related to, or liked her
father, so although I didn’t have the typical mama’s girl relationship, I was
thoroughly convinced of her unwavering love for me. But if you wanted to tattoo
“Mama’s Girl” on me, I’d wear it proudly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
It was in Romania when I learned how huge the job of a mother is. I went there
the most naïve 19 year old on the planet (before the days of internet) and what
I experienced was that 100% of the children abandoned before the age of three
were severely autistic. Which meant -most of them. What this showed me was how
big-a-deal the job of a mom is. I went there because I saw a need for babies to
be held; what I was oblivious to is that there is a point very early on that
it’s too late. That sounds harsh, and there’s much that goes into that
statement because my mom adopted two of these children. They were 6 & 7
when the adoptions were finally complete and despite MY MOM becoming their mom,
their autism is and was so severe that to discuss it would be changing the
subject. An infant needing a mother is like a small seed needing water.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBOyEfahxfdk75DutNmObcqX9JPiqbuGutxafMCVSjdK3LfIZTqBWN3kINQGzcM0QGqi7PAjqMKHy0zDeMmroVxIJhJd809sNO3M87HmbWZNTSLLeyXiw8DJ8s7nEKMtMFtJX7Blx8aBQ/s1600/mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1268" data-original-width="790" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBOyEfahxfdk75DutNmObcqX9JPiqbuGutxafMCVSjdK3LfIZTqBWN3kINQGzcM0QGqi7PAjqMKHy0zDeMmroVxIJhJd809sNO3M87HmbWZNTSLLeyXiw8DJ8s7nEKMtMFtJX7Blx8aBQ/s320/mom.jpg" width="198" /></a>I feel very weak these days as my mom starts to
hunch with arthritis in her spine and gets scammed by a world she doesn’t
understand. I’m in a position now of needing to mother her and try to fend off
and fix the attack from the bad guys she knows nothing about. At times that’s
the hardest part of her getting old… my inability to wrap my fucking mind
around how to protect her when she can’t see the bad in anyone, and answers the
phone to these ass-hats that prey on the elderly. Being in the mom role and
trying to explain to HER why the world doesn’t protect her, and why she can’t
do things she’s done her whole life (like answer the phone), is upsetting. I
don’t want the roles to swap. There are more systems in place for protecting a
13 year old girl that knows more about how this shitty world works than there are for
an elderly woman who doesn’t understand much anymore. I’m actually still
searching for ways build protection, as this problem is unending and getting
worse.<br />
<br />
My heart is too soft. Watching her hobble away from my front door with her
cane, as she beams from one ear to the other (because she only sees good in the
world and she only feels love) is almost more difficult than it is sweet. I
don’t want her bent over. I don’t want her to age. I don’t want her to leave.<br />
<br />
I’ve said before, “being a mom” is bigger than me. Why? I never say that part…
I don’t know how anyone’s heart can handle the love you must feel by being a
mom. She’s so full of love for me it’s overwhelming. I think my heart would
have exploded if I’d ever had a child.<br />
<br />
I remember stepping out of a room and into the hall at the orphanage with
Florina in my arms and sinking to the floor in tears; accepting I could
accomplish nothing for her. No amount of Natalie love would fill any holes in
the heart of this little girl who was so miserable she chewed holes into her hands
and pulled her hair out in clumps. Did she want to be loved? Desperately. So
did all the children that tried to climb me like a tree when I walked into the
room. I would be felled by their insistence to be held and loved. This was not
the case when an orphanage worker came into the room. These little ones knew
where the love was. As I say, at 19 I was so naive as to think I could hold
children and DO SOMETHING. I could do nothing but temporarily radiate what they
should have been getting all along in their tiny fragile state.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I felt a lot of anger about this too, because I had this
ridiculously perfect example of motherly love and trying to wrap my head around
the severity of it all in the orphanage was impossible. I still to this day
don’t understand that lack. I still to this day personally receive it in
abundance. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyhl_-T5zo6kT1e8AOJp2Ft8B785navGSw5Tw2WtESdn8UfYICE2gKWZhajal9oQm9E4TjMSxev81ZGT6bF6eQaYbb_F8NAY0KTpOIl8K2_eSOaNLnZmkAUAR0m205PLwV5vWUOP14P3k/s1600/mom+heart+quilt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyhl_-T5zo6kT1e8AOJp2Ft8B785navGSw5Tw2WtESdn8UfYICE2gKWZhajal9oQm9E4TjMSxev81ZGT6bF6eQaYbb_F8NAY0KTpOIl8K2_eSOaNLnZmkAUAR0m205PLwV5vWUOP14P3k/s320/mom+heart+quilt.jpg" width="320" /></a>People ask me if I’m going to have kids. People who think
I’m not too old, and I still believe my heart would burst. I’m finally
convinced some people have more love to give than others, and frankly I feel
like my heart manufactures too much already. The notebook I’m writing in is my reminder with love note stickers all over the cover by one of the teenagers I
mother. “You’re my favorite human”, “I love you”, “You deserve everything” “I
freaking <3 you”. Again, they aren’t mine, but they feel my love. Would I be
a good mom? No question. I’ve learned a lot from this imperfect person that perfectly
loves. As that seed needing water, my mom has stood beside me with her watering
can my whole life. She’s taken pride in watching me grow and has never stopped
telling me she loves me</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When the day comes that this mama’s girl is without her mom,
the world will be a different place. One I will struggle to live in -not being
watered continually. And I will relate to Florina better –in her desire to chew
holes into her hands and pull her hair out, because without a mom I will be
thoroughly incomplete too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-19185533582649632822018-11-25T11:44:00.001-07:002018-11-25T11:45:00.047-07:00Bullied, or Picked on?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been trying to decide in a recent situation why I feel
picked on, and not bullied. What’s happening could easily be called bullying,
and I finally realized the difference (I’ll say FOR ME) is that I do not feel
inferior. I don’t feel weak enough to be harmed. My being a woman, and his
being a man is also part of it. I’ll come back to that.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Is it bullying? Technically, yes. Does it feel like it? No. And the answer I
reach when asking myself why -is that I’m too old and too strong. The reality
is this happens over and over on a regular basis, and has by this guy for five
years. This repetition does 1000% mean I’m being picked on, and if it were
someone else, and I were watching, I <i>would</i> call it bullying.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thing is, at this age quite a few things have managed to
sink in:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
1. Most people picking on someone totally believe they are
justified for some reason.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
2. Young people who don’t know what they don’t know will
always be “right”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
3. My self-view is not dictated by someone’s attitude toward
me. (that took a long time to learn.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
4. A Bullier could be so far from present, they don’t have self-perception.<br />
<br />
To be clear, these are not excuses. Far from it. Someone’s shortcomings are
seldom seen by them, but we all must remember, our shortcomings are not
invisible to others. You will show people who you are, and if that is just by
default because you can’t be self aware, so be it. Nobody will stop you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzsxvwLNh9TH-EkoWTpNbPjmxx54fZbYFsAbfzmoFz_81Le6Jq1PuKkwSsRg6gJMQeHWIrYZcPLFcL6SNoNa1CG5tvc1HGyQmFJ34_fP0DpwoJn-7TY73sVaDyrIfVZMbGGMU7R_jE3-4/s1600/picked+on.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1442" data-original-width="1437" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzsxvwLNh9TH-EkoWTpNbPjmxx54fZbYFsAbfzmoFz_81Le6Jq1PuKkwSsRg6gJMQeHWIrYZcPLFcL6SNoNa1CG5tvc1HGyQmFJ34_fP0DpwoJn-7TY73sVaDyrIfVZMbGGMU7R_jE3-4/s400/picked+on.jpg" width="396" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Over those five years of being picked on sporadically, I’ve
wanted to say a thousand times, “Stop watching me. Stop paying attention to me,
stop picking on me, stop putting me down”…and I never have. I don’t because of
a few reasons. I feel like bullying is obvious to everyone in the room. It’s the
bullier’s way of showing people they have a problem and need a punching bag. I’d
rather let them show as many people as they can who they are. Anyone watching
will see their true colors. Integrity is scarce, so when people want to shout
that they have none, I let them. I am not going to change who I am because of
your desire to make me your punching bag.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
When asked by my manager if I confronted him and told him to
stop, I said “No, and I won’t allow his small mindedness to change me. I am not
a confrontational person.” And frankly, my history has everything to do with
this decision to not be a confrontational person. I grew up on the attack
mentally, emotionally, and physically by a small-minded man. In fact, attack in
any form is not the route an intelligent man takes. This was the biggest lesson
of my childhood. I have been quiet most of my life, allowing others to show me
in word and deed all I need to know about them.<br />
<br />
I also must acknowledge I allowed this dude treating me as a punching bag off
and on for so long to hold the title “friend” off and on as well. Sometimes I
give some people more opportunities than others. I’m not sure why I do this,
there doesn’t seem to be good reasons, but eventually, if punched enough times,
I guess it finally goes in. And frankly, there just aren’t enough men out there
of high enough quality that I will ever be too surprised when they finally say
“I am not worth your time/energy/love/praise/etc”. Which makes me sound like a
man-hater. I’m actually a man-cheerleader constantly looking for work.
Constantly getting laid-off from the job of cheering a quality man on. Women
too, don’t get me wrong, but of the people I know that are “top quality” 95% of
them are women, and they are really amazing at the game of life. Oozing
integrity from every pore and orifice. Women bully too, but it is not as much
in our nature as it is for men. Plus we don’t tend to have our ego threatened
the way men seem to. I have seen many times how men react to strong women, and
that too is them showing the world their small mindedness.<br />
<br />
This will all sound too harsh for the mind that uses bulling as a tool to keep
themselves “right”, “justified”, “smarter”, or “in charge”. The thing we see
when given enough time -the bullier believes they are one thing, while showing
the world they are another. Can someone like this change? Maybe so. I think
every one of us is in control of who we are. Have I seen many change? No. But I
won’t lose hope, I am a cheerleader by nature, and wouldn’t it be cool if a
year from now I were sitting here writing about how many incredible men I know.
Because guys… you are in control of yourself. You decide what others see. You
decide who you will be. We (the not small minded) are not blind, and we know
when we are picked on.</div>
Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-23207429380566686162018-11-06T11:54:00.002-07:002019-04-04T12:04:16.744-06:00WEIGHTY LABELS(Audio below)<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
It seems that for most of us it’s easier to identify with a
label someone else gives you than it is to identify with a label you give yourself.
In fact, few of us create our own labels, but we get handed them all the time
by others. It starts when we are little.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I’ve decided that this happens because at no point in growing up does anyone
tell you “Hey, you should start deciding for yourself who you are”. We just
kind of fall into the existence of being told how others see us, “You are overweight”,
“You should be a ballerina”, “You are funny”, “You are too serious”, “You are
effeminate”, “You are weird”. And we let these mean something to us and tell us
who we are.<br />
<br />
Now, I’m not saying we consciously allow this to happen or we consciously don’t
decide for ourselves who we are. It’s one of those things we fall into because
we never think to be/do otherwise. It’s more by default.<br />
<br />
I too did this most of my life, and it wasn’t until I was in my 30’s that I was
suddenly able to hear it, and realize I should be the one deciding these
labels, not others. And the reason I say that is that it almost doesn’t matter
what other people want to label you with, if you don’t make your own labels,
you will ACCEPT you are who you’ve been told you are.<br />
<br />
And before I go much further I’m going to throw out a spoiler of sorts… the
labels you are given have everything to do with the person labeling you. Based
on THEIR views of themselves and how they grew up being labeled. It’s kind of a
messed up way to receive self view. But I’ll come back to this.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I want to use an analogy to explain what I mean. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Imagine being handed a card every time someone tells you
something about who you are. Lets say that as you are growing up, your dad continuously
hands you an “overweight” card. Again, this is based on what HE considers to be
overweight, and also, that concept “overweight” must be an issue for him! It’s
not an issue or important to everyone and doesn’t have to be important to you
either. It’s also based on which part of the world he lives in and what he is
exposed to. Is he hanging out at the gym? This kind of thing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Also, you think your dad is only going to hand you ONE of
these cards in your lifetime? No… he is likely going to hand them to you over
and over. So you are figuratively finding pockets for all these cards, and
carrying them around with you everywhere you go. They become your reality and
almost a safety-net, so that at any time you can pull out a stack of cards from
one of these pockets and SHOW people who you are by listing your labels.<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuRCEzzT7CoRRNYncf_GkAnzSkMGKJZgGeTkkkV8HfveGH1Svv2HvteFB7HGv3X0ky5xLz8oGtOj4vZ9yzfUASgX28_bugMVTKBaFNa09MBrHYPhQKbCQVX1nqEypGi56Awxf1cBDTfAI/s1600/labels+are+for+clothes.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="962" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuRCEzzT7CoRRNYncf_GkAnzSkMGKJZgGeTkkkV8HfveGH1Svv2HvteFB7HGv3X0ky5xLz8oGtOj4vZ9yzfUASgX28_bugMVTKBaFNa09MBrHYPhQKbCQVX1nqEypGi56Awxf1cBDTfAI/s400/labels+are+for+clothes.png" width="239" /></a>And chances are, you do not at any point realize you are
being handed these cards/labels. You take them and you put them in your pockets.
You even find that you keep being handed the same cards by the same people, so
they don’t even stand out or feel strange anymore. And when your pockets are
full and you are feeling down on yourself, you don’t notice it’s because of all
the cards you have taken on board. Picture a pair of overalls, with added
makeshift pockets to carry all the cards you have as you’ve got older and met
more labeling people. Maybe it’s only at that point you realize you’re sick of
these heavy overalls full of inaccurate labels. At some point, it might just
get too much.<br />
<br />
This was true for me. And when I finally had the idea of taking off everything
that had a pocket, I stripped down to nakedness and taped a couple of those
cards to my body, unable to let go of every label I’d been given, still unsure
who I really was. And what an uncomfortable space to be in. The realization
that you don’t know what you think because you have been taking on board what
others think for so long. Its freedom on a level you might not be able to
immediately accept. “Well, if I’m not going to believe “this”: ___, then what
is my “that”?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To be honest, it’s giving yourself a blank slate to decide
anything about yourself really. The craziest thing is that you COULD HAVE been
doing this your whole life, but for some reason, you missed the memo.<br />
<br />
This removal of all pocket and card containing layers of clothes coincided with
a bunch of uncomfortable life changes for me, and finally reaching a point
where I had to make my own decisions about who I am in order to like who I was.
This is where I’m trying not to turn this into my story, but show others I have
the same story. But this time, I’m hoping so bad that I’m not talking to people
my age with decades of taking on cards they turned into a mountain of labels.
I’m hoping that my young friends might be able to see “I’m doing this too. Nat
is over here encouraging me to take off all those layers of labels and be
comfortable in my own skin. Label and card free.” <br />
<br />
You want to know what labels I’m willing to accept now? Happy. Loving. Kind.
And when people try to hand me cards, I don’t reach out and take it, I let it
fall to the ground. I decide who I am now. With a bit of attitude about it too.
People can create or make as many labels for me as they wish. That’s their
thing; let them be a label maker. I’m going to be me, do me, and worry about
me. So that what I feel about ME…is <i>all</i> good.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
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Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-33209282215779318792018-09-22T23:21:00.006-06:002018-09-22T23:22:23.820-06:00Fuel, Drive, Joy, Motivation, Creation, Accomplishment<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
My use of the word accomplishment recently led a friend to
misunderstand that I meant it in a way that brought me some status, or money,
or lifelong dream finally built. I shouldn’t be surprised, because the word
itself kind of insinuates much effort was put forth and an end goal was
reached.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
When I typed “accomplishment” I was trying to sum up and find a word that fit
why I love to write. Which really just did the opposite, I then had to explain
what I meant by using that word, and I’m so glad my friend didn’t hear it how I
meant it because that gave me opportunity to do what I love… explain and
clarify so that I feel a sense of being understood. AKA Accomplishment. Point
made.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNaLFp6xX_pGHLSnrmSFkKmew8qK0xBKEj2xJeQ-0A9zJlXvYmo2_2uOvQCQO5fywrGDwQOUOO46R8Kjp2YuVJzWphXsvlx6Tw2pzDjkKZGRLZG3RjNKyJyhjrm3Jg69xYfWb5pkQrCcc/s1600/accomplishment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1402" data-original-width="1402" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNaLFp6xX_pGHLSnrmSFkKmew8qK0xBKEj2xJeQ-0A9zJlXvYmo2_2uOvQCQO5fywrGDwQOUOO46R8Kjp2YuVJzWphXsvlx6Tw2pzDjkKZGRLZG3RjNKyJyhjrm3Jg69xYfWb5pkQrCcc/s400/accomplishment.jpg" width="400" /></a>And in the writing of my explanation, I realized I have
another friend who might like to hear this, because that friend is in a place
of not feeling fuel, drive, joy, motivation, creation, or accomplishment. To
the point that friend is putting themselves inside a “cave” to be unreachable
and alone. Outside of my arms length to affect or help. Sometimes that’s all I
need to find a reason to write and feed myself a sense of accomplishment. (This
same friend in the cave calls me a wordsmith, so you bet I want to be writing
for that friend.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And that is really the point I am going to make by the end. MY sense of
accomplishment isn’t actually conditional upon success of a large end-goal.
Sure I want my friend to come out of the cave, feel helped by my words, and
benefit somehow from knowing me, but the truth is… MY sense of accomplishment,
MY motivation, MY drive is just finding a way to say the things I want to say -to
someone I care about. Whether my friend ever even reads this does not change,
whether or not I have succeeded in that desire to clearly explain thoughts and
feelings. I don’t write earth shattering words. I don’t feel ground breaking
concepts, I write because I love to, and for how it makes me feel.<br />
<br />
Like a race car driver. I doubt Kimi Raikkonen races ONLY to win and stand on
the podium. He can’t. He clearly must love to race. He must love the team, the
car, the tracks, the competition, the atmosphere, the everything, or he would
not be doing this since the age of 10 (28 years). Every aspect <i>is</i> his
fuel, his drive, his joy. Each of us have those things in us that bring us
motivation in life. Which tends to be the stuff we are good at because that’s
the stuff we enjoy doing most.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So lets go back to my slow small slug-like version of
accomplishment. For me it’s nothing large. It’s nothing so fancy as that for
Kimi. For me it’s taking a concept like mattering to a person and organizing
words in a fashion where I feel people could get what I’m trying to say. And MY
MIND feels satisfied and accomplished by the end result. As long as I’m
satisfied, I am accomplished.<br />
<br />
This is not an idea that has been with me all my life. I used to have giant
towers and mountains of ideals surrounding me that looked and felt impossible
to ever conquer. I had so many imaginary un-scaleable mountains that provided
me with a million excuses for why I couldn’t become <i>this</i> or ever succeed
at <i>that</i>. And eventually I saw that these towers and mountains were all
created by my imagination. They weren’t real, and nobody else could even
understand them, let alone see them. “Are you fucking crazy Natalie? What are
you looking at?” could be the words spoken to me. And I realized accomplishment
comes wherever I want it -in whatever form I enjoy and want to feel it. I could
just as easily decide that none of my writings will ever be read by anyone and
feel accomplishment in filling the hard drive of my laptop with a library of
essays. (I do that too.) The realization I DECIDE was the real groundbreaker.
Not anything I actually did or “accomplished”. I can feel fuel, drive, joy,
motivation, creation, accomplishment, over anything I choose to feel it over
and I even decide if I’m going to argue that with the negative committee in my
head. I can decide also that nothing is up for debate, because the negative
committee is not me, not employed by me, and they are best seen as squatters
who need to be kicked out.<br />
<br />
What we feel, the levels at which we feel, the end results of our feelings, so
much is for you to decide. You own you. It’s easier to believe you don’t and
that those mountains aren’t scaleable… but that is only because that is what
you are used to. I’m now used to not seeing mountains, just molehills I can
cover.<br />
<br />
If my “caving” friend reads this, my friend will remember the many things I’ve
had to deal with this year. And how I have not sailed through easily. Life can
happen <i>to</i> us as well…but that is why we have to remember to be in charge
of the things we <i>can</i> be deciding. There are plenty of things outside of
our control. We may as well control the things we can. And frankly, I want to
be having joy in all the areas I am capable of joy. Personally, I want to
choose to feel accomplishment even at typing black letters onto a white screen…because
all those things happening <i>to</i> me aren’t at my fingertips to delete or
rewrite. So you bet I will control all the things I can. My attitude is the
most important one. This has nothing whatsoever to do with reward or money for
said accomplishment. I create my creation. I love the process. I feel
fulfilled. This is why I have never cared for money. It’s a necessary tool. Its
not attached to what is my joy. My feeling accomplishment at what I wanted to
accomplish is the real goods.</div>
<br />Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-91788038472277121982018-09-11T21:41:00.000-06:002019-01-07T16:20:59.056-07:00LUCKY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
How do I explain feeling so lucky when it has everything to do with someone's suicide? I know I just wrote about suicide of my friend, but two weeks earlier my adopted sisters best friend Berta committed suicide. Berta is also the sister of one of my close friends. And as I watched as these people I love so much mourn this incredible woman, (who I never somehow met) I continually felt, and feel lucky. For multiple reasons.<br />
<br />
The first reason feels cruel to type. But I am glad that as I hear so many stories about Berta; her talents, her kindness, her beauty, they are still stories for me. I didn't know her voice, I don't have conversations cataloged, and no memories to replay in pain. I don't have to feel the giant hole her loss has created for my loved ones who are worthy of knowing top quality humans.<br />
<div>
<br />
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL7WyZ0PaVmHJx_n4qGGFZoHJe4erhm10ai-AWBkUWpDy_cpNlc1aK53Jww4thLGeEQeQMArqwYOIBWvLk7XAIzkinewHj_QqbQCMl5Ieo1DTJMFDF4l-cUSbPV6WTRvTVPtciUc3uGX4/s1600/lucky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1277" data-original-width="1600" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL7WyZ0PaVmHJx_n4qGGFZoHJe4erhm10ai-AWBkUWpDy_cpNlc1aK53Jww4thLGeEQeQMArqwYOIBWvLk7XAIzkinewHj_QqbQCMl5Ieo1DTJMFDF4l-cUSbPV6WTRvTVPtciUc3uGX4/s320/lucky.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
What I do have, is more love for my loved ones in pain, and luck to have them around.<br />
<br />
An even bigger reason for me to feel Lucky these last couple days is that Berta should have turned 40 a couple days ago. My 40th birthday was the best birthday of my life. I was on the best vacation of my life, and having some of the biggest realizations of my life. I even wrote a short story about it. So, for someone to miss out on something that was so great for me, it's like I'm being reminded, "You are so Lucky!".<br />
<br />
Anyone reading that knowing what stresses I've been through this year would question my honesty, considering how big a mess I have been at times, but today as I think about Berta missing out on turning 40, the sensation of being so lucky is loud and clear. Fact is I didn't lose a best friend or a sister and that too makes me lucky. Life is fragile and a gift. The only way to enjoy it is through choice combined with perspective. I NEED to love life. the alternative is too hard and uncomfortable to bear. So here I sit in a soft chair in my creative canvas I call home, and with a list of countless people I love and who love me...lucky is the most accurate word I have.<br />
<br />
Another friend also touched with suicide in his life posted a pic of a fortune from a cookie on instagram. It read: "The mightiest oak in the forest is just a little nut that held its ground". I am going to continue hoping I will be so lucky to become a mighty oak. Not letting anyone -including myself- chop me down before I get there. This little nut is going to hold tight.<br />
<br />
Ya know, when I die I don't need there to be a reward or an "after". All I need is to be happy and feel good. Anything after or "next" would be a bonus. I'm already lucky.</div>
</div>
Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-34441949071232202732018-07-22T09:13:00.000-06:002019-01-07T16:21:52.149-07:00YANNY?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was recently introduced to that YT video with the recorded
voice saying a word that some people hear as Yanny and others hear Laurel.
Twitter says 47% hear Yanny, and 53% hear laurel. Other videos have been done where
they change the pitch of the word which does affect what people hear, but lets
stick with the fact that in its original sound, we hear something different.
Does this mean anything?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVy-NbAmQ543b_Z5vn6Dlt-14gEq9OiXur9OKoCGFmXlve0oyrFz27Ol8DwFvf8_tkUFCD2nWNEPYS8VFd-b9bn28aqnsJCrdgj2aJPmtLEwTEOg5ENvJBhKpHc-KXCrLYaXpV8SvN77Y/s1600/yanny+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVy-NbAmQ543b_Z5vn6Dlt-14gEq9OiXur9OKoCGFmXlve0oyrFz27Ol8DwFvf8_tkUFCD2nWNEPYS8VFd-b9bn28aqnsJCrdgj2aJPmtLEwTEOg5ENvJBhKpHc-KXCrLYaXpV8SvN77Y/s320/yanny+pic.jpg" width="320" /></a><o:p> </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It does.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It means that no one person can be 100% right because there
is no RIGHT. There IS perspective. And Nobody has to change who they are to
hear something different, all anyone should do is accept we aren’t all the
same. We won’t all agree and most of the time there isn’t only two things to
argue rightness about.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m also feeling the need to write about this because it’s
one of my biggest pet peeves… when someone insists there is no other
perspective but theirs. Usually these are people who believe everything is black
and white, and since I’m a believer of countless grays, I can’t even entertain
conversation with a B&W closed mind anymore. It’s pointless and time
wasting. I write about this in <a href="http://www.natandchat.com/2016/04/gray-is-good.html" target="_blank">Gray is Good</a> and recently have referenced
<a href="http://www.natandchat.com/2018/01/statistical-uniqueness.html" target="_blank">Statistical Uniqueness</a> in conversations about this too. The world is obsessed
with our differences right now, to the point of a mentality being created. This
“You are offending me” kind of thinking. Which creates this over inflation of
pride which then makes the offended individual offend. It’s like the building
of an attitude too. One that doesn’t allow for Yanny to be Laurel. And if I get
to throw out an opinion now –I think that changing this attitude could be easy.
It would only require putting oneself in a space of RESPECT. Because there, one
could accept what I hear: Laurel, is not what you hear: Yanny. And does this
have to break the bank? No. Not in a space of Respect. In that space we accept
EVERYONE is different.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So… how often can we put ourselves in this space? Trying to
go there after an argument is already underway is rather impossible. So why not
try to make it the space you occupy continually? Like your Aura, your bubble,
your surrounding vibrational field that people feel when you are nearby? Why
not live in that space of respect?<br />
<br />
I’ve also referenced<a href="http://www.natandchat.com/2013/09/being-understanding-when-i-dont.html" target="_blank"> Being Understanding When I Don’t Understand</a>, in a couple
conversations recently. The two ARE different. You don’t have to understand a
person and their choices to be understanding that they are struggling with
those choices. It also doesn’t mean you have to garnish their load and make it
your burden. To be in a respectful space and to be understanding, you are in
the best place for yourself. If they expect your respect and understanding to
be your lifting of the load too… that is their inability to grasp being in a
respectful space and that in our differences, nobody need be exactly on the
same page. Because fact is, some hear Laurel.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We are not automatons. We are humans with a googolplex of
cells making each of us unique.</div>
<br />Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-52923463915445484592018-06-16T00:35:00.001-06:002018-07-22T09:16:07.385-06:00The Heart Pumps Love<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can only imagine what it is like to have a human created
from YOU and who you are. I have to just guess how it feels to see the best of
you in them, and have your heart pump love because of them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I made the choice to not know this kind of love, because I could imagine it,
and it seemed so incredibly giant. I couldn’t and wouldn’t do it. I even let “god”
know that if “he” somehow made it happen, I would stop it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuJQVBInIAq8FIT2xW_bmn-8VjB5wmWYGPK0-wYxwxdGSiZOy_pe45YwW_DJN4RO3e3BAOnlCiMFYE827IuAruonDg35N_3b8mku6NXfhTCKDCRLSvm45MoKg67X-I6Sl3V17vul5hQ50/s1600/heart+pumps+love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1574" data-original-width="1574" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuJQVBInIAq8FIT2xW_bmn-8VjB5wmWYGPK0-wYxwxdGSiZOy_pe45YwW_DJN4RO3e3BAOnlCiMFYE827IuAruonDg35N_3b8mku6NXfhTCKDCRLSvm45MoKg67X-I6Sl3V17vul5hQ50/s400/heart+pumps+love.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I realize this is a decision I could one day regret when I’m
old and alone, but thus far in life, I’m glad I made the choice I did.<br />
<br />
If we did have past lives, I would be more than happy to assume I know this
feeling of your heart pumping love because of a human you created. It would
make sense that somewhere in me remembers that giant level of love, and
somewhere in me also knows that in this incarnation I am strong in some ways,
but very weak in others.<br />
<br />
I start even saying this because I realized at the appearance of someone I love
so very much, that there are faces in my mind that 100% of the time bring me a
physical smile, and make my heart pump with love. What would I do without these
dearhearts? Because fact is… If my heart can’t pump with love, there is no
reason for it to operate at all.<br />
<br />
Everyone is NOT equal. Sorry. Not everyone knows how to be a dearheart, and
that’s a private club for every individual to check ID at the door.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To my Dearhearts, you know who you are… I live for your
beauty, love, and knowing you are happy. My heart pumps because of you.</div>
<br /><br />
<br />Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-47600586652994057332018-06-09T20:43:00.001-06:002018-06-15T23:30:02.566-06:00Wholeness (and Dancing)(A friend who knows me well said that this was too short. She asked me to elaborate because it ended too soon. I love my Melissa, therefore: EDITED)<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are tooo many things to write about these days. I’m so
in my head with multiple life lessons and “issues” needing my attention. I
would say I’m overwhelmed, except for the gravity of each of them. I think they
are all bigger than me. So really, its like looking at planets or moons… all I
can do is stare and talk. There is no holding them or trying to carry their
weight. They are just too big. Feeling these things are bigger than me, I do
still feel pushed by them. Despite not collapsing under the weight, I find
myself needing coping mechanisms.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPHstAYSN-Fy4WYzJiJARpODo8f5ecGj_v3AEWmwZ75YJ1PQ1Dp9Drw4Bxzm_IpKUH2BhWXh3FCfY35EwyNLa0klaAJeXYIukEIhimHn-J7P6Woj7yutNEQUvYrY9fqv9y-UzhugqgnCY/s1600/wholeness+and+dancing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPHstAYSN-Fy4WYzJiJARpODo8f5ecGj_v3AEWmwZ75YJ1PQ1Dp9Drw4Bxzm_IpKUH2BhWXh3FCfY35EwyNLa0klaAJeXYIukEIhimHn-J7P6Woj7yutNEQUvYrY9fqv9y-UzhugqgnCY/s400/wholeness+and+dancing.jpg" width="225" /></a>I have two great ones. The first is more temporary than the
second, and its also a bit ethereal because it requires the decision to be
present. I think that decision to be present is possibly why so many people love PHOTOGRAPHY. I highly doubt most people know why they love taking pictures, just that they do. I think for many, the joy comes in that capturing of the NOW. They don't consciously say "I am being present, I am enjoying this scene, I am composing this image, I am paying attention to this beauty, I am a sentient being" (haha). All they know is it's fun and feels nice.<br />
<br />
It's fun and feels nice to me too. It is also an enigma to me. I've been taking pictures since I could operate my mom's Kodak Instamatic 608 using 110 film. (Which btw, I still have; it's in my camera collection.) I have done portraits, glamour photography, food, still life, and ads. All fun, but my greatest love with photography is what I see vs. what the camera sees. Many people argue this, when I say it, but I stick to my experience, and that is I don't decide what looks good. The camera does. And with that in mind, I regularly grab the camera when I see something that looks cool to my eyes, to see if the camera agrees. I would say 75% of the time it does, and it even shows me MORE than what I SAW. And then there are all those times the camera can't see anything I am wanting to capture. One thing I know for sure, is that if what I'm seeing has elements of light... Then the camera and I conspire in fascination for coolness and we have even more fun together. Which is also a reason why I love macro photography. I want to see the little stuff the naked eye can't appreciate, like how the shape of water is sometimes only evident because of light. The camera is fond of this too, and we regularly PLAY.<br />
<br />
Instagram was made for people like me who take hundreds of photos and share one every few hundred taken. I love to see what other people are finding cool, and what their camera is finding beautiful. The mention of instagram compels me to say that people who are finding their own face or body fascinating everyday are the ones I just can't follow for long. Sorry Charlie, your pouty lips just aren't as cool to me as they are to you. But, Yay You, for loving your face!!<br />
<br />
Photography is one of the few things that give me a separation from those weighty planets, with my brain happy to say: “I’m busy right now. Call
back later. I'm already occupied with looking at beautiful things”. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The second coping mechanism is actually a pretty big thing I
should have discovered long ago –and many have. It’s DANCING. Not dancing for anyone
to see, just dancing for me to feel. This also comes back to what I write about
all the time: getting to know yourself and improving self esteem. Which is how
the dancing started, actually. I decided to use it as a way to try and feel more
comfortable in my own skin. And I’m going to jump ahead for a second to say: It
Totally Fucking Worked!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve said this so many times, but I have not known myself
most of my life. I’ve been an enabler ON HOLD. So as I've been getting to know
ME and realizing I have many things to fix and heal, I have learned much about
who I am and who I’m <i>not</i>. This is my journey now. It’s possibly best
described as a path to wholeness. So, in my attempts to feel whole, I must
stretch and step outside of the space I regularly stand… and Dance.<br />
<br />
How I started was like a coward. In the dark, in the bathroom, in front of the mirror, but with the only light coming through a crack in the door from my bedroom. So I began dancing in that sliver of light, and used my fascination of light and shape as a way to keep moving. The REAL key was having just discovered the music of Andrew Belle. Dancing to his Black Bear album was more fun that I could believe, and so the dancing continued effortlessly, until one day, the dark didn't even matter. I knew how certain songs made my body feel, and then The 1975 got involved, and it's impossible to hold still when I hear songs I love.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dancing has altered so much in me. It’s been over a year now, and there is no going back. The benefits literally can’t be
explained or shared. It has changed how I see myself and how I even see life.
It has increased my love of music (which seems impossible) and I can’t squeal
enough about this new found tool. I do realize dancing is so normal for most
people they don’t think twice about it. But for me it was never normal, and
now it has become extraordinary.<br />
<br />
Having explained the dancing, I will say this is one of the reasons my lovely Melissa and I connected. It is also why she said this post was not long enough. I had already started dancing as a therapy, before I learned she is in school to become a dance therapist. She saw the dancing become more and more fluid to me as this whole process unfolded.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That old Lee Ann Womack song “I hope you dance” has new
meaning to me. I always heard the message as taking what life gives you and
turning it into success –Dance being the metaphor for success. But now I want
to hear it as Dance being the tool to get through everything. Don’t do what I
did and NOT dance. Keep yourself healthy, keep you eyes and ears open, keep you
body and mind willing to be fluid, and when you need some help, or happiness,
or therapy, DANCE. I’m proof it does things, it changes you.<br />
<br />
Now I’m gunna dance my way to Wholeness.</div>
Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-66286552717851610312018-04-14T10:50:00.001-06:002019-07-23T21:21:53.615-06:00The LITTLE things ARE the BIG things.<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">What do we call this thing we have inside us that wants to feel
like we've mattered? That we make a difference, that we WILL HAVE made a difference, and that our long life has affected something for the better,?</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"><br />It's really</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt;"> a need to know the world is a better place because we were in it. That sounds a bit narcissistic from a shallow viewpoint, but when
coming at it from the heart; it’s knowing you’ve done something beneficial for a person or people. Some of us think “making a difference” has to be some multi-life-saving event
that we will be memorialized by. And yet, most of us also still feel content
knowing we “helped” whether by giving someone twenty bucks, offering a much
needed hug, or by being understanding and kind to someone really needing it.
This need to feel “a difference” follows us throughout life and I think it might
be a thirst that’s unquenchable for some.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0uNpr9MmEcVk5GSA_wlWjd89OCfSPixntmk7wzn8yWPWXxZdwYewxAAlj59XNWGoGv-yLhgcmeoz04bmqHX_KszTV5hEKG-EkZT2J71qHOb1VErUstkmw0nX-dW-IWM3bv_Kyh67YqPc/s1600/The+little+things+are+the+big+things.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1280" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0uNpr9MmEcVk5GSA_wlWjd89OCfSPixntmk7wzn8yWPWXxZdwYewxAAlj59XNWGoGv-yLhgcmeoz04bmqHX_KszTV5hEKG-EkZT2J71qHOb1VErUstkmw0nX-dW-IWM3bv_Kyh67YqPc/s400/The+little+things+are+the+big+things.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">One of my jobs is serving
coffee, and although some could argue that serving coffee is making a
difference, (*big smile*) I come in contact with many people who make a
difference to me. Whether it’s getting to experience their kind heart, hearing their encouraging words, or just being that regular happy face that makes the sun brighter</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt;">… these small things make a difference to me because
these people are sharing their lives and hearts with me. I have to then hope that I
might be doing this for someone else, either through coffee or in my general
life, also sharing myself.</span></div>
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<br />
Really, we can’t possibly know what difference we’ve made at the end of a well-lived
life. We can’t quantify each encounter to end up with a great sum. The sad
thing is that the way we spend so much of our lives beating ourselves up for
not being “enough”, it’s likely we don’t even see the difference we make on a
continual basis.<br />
<br />
I know that I don’t tell people who give me a much needed laugh that their
light-heartedness, or my medicinal laughter because of them -helped me. But the
truth is, things like those are vital. I survive on those small moments as they
happen daily, and I’m surely not alone in that feeling.<br />
<br />
Life is fragile, not just our physical life; but our hearts too. Cruel words, a
mean attitude, and general negativity affect us. They affect our day, our
sleep, our happiness, and when it comes to feeling “ok” or “not ok” it’s the
small things that make a difference and keep us going. Two of the biggest small
things are love and kindness. THAT is how we make a difference.</span></div>
Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7763658831932628754.post-48535332120214883632018-03-28T11:26:00.003-06:002018-03-28T11:27:45.308-06:00Balance… and imbalance<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
After a concussion and then a car accident, I’ve recently
had reason to wish for balance. I had an abundance of vertigo and dizziness,
with the concussion. Once that left, the car accident gave me whiplash and a
lack of balance in all areas even without the vertigo or dizziness reappearing.
I easily lose physical balance, but in addition to that, I have found there is
now an emotional need for balance. Because what comes with a car accident? The
need to find another car, countless phone calls and appointments to put
everything right again... My balance of simple/busy life has tipped the scales
to busy leaving me wishing for simple again. And with my physical balance still
and issue even though the vertigo and dizziness are gone I’m continuing to dwell
on the word BALANCE mostly because of whiplash and neck pain. Physical
imbalance makes it almost impossible to have a good attitude and be willing to
exert oneself beyond what in the immediate moment you could call “comfort”.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I’ve started getting massages to help. The muscle relaxants
make me feel shit in my whole body, so it’s just trading one form of feeling
shit for another. NOT what I want. So these massages are a new experience for
me. I’ve never had so much physical attention to my bones and muscles finding I
hurt in places I didn’t know were hurting. But I’m also experiencing that its when
I am laying on that massage table that I am closest to feeling balance. At
least that was the case today as this “desire for balance” was in the forefront
of my mind. When it comes to having a massage, if I’m not present in the
massage I am wasting the opportunity to be there. And why would I want to waste
a massage? Ya, I don’t.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQMgNMBv0uFcF9O-CmgROe7OtZA-DbxUB3l9O3c5MK9Fqtk77yOqPj2VWZzVJ6T7HDByYUkDExpbpajc-GisaARwDAgbFk1WkJh3HT5KL3iSO_BYvBahy6xkASRBAMjRQJcYl6JzGAgPo/s1600/balance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQMgNMBv0uFcF9O-CmgROe7OtZA-DbxUB3l9O3c5MK9Fqtk77yOqPj2VWZzVJ6T7HDByYUkDExpbpajc-GisaARwDAgbFk1WkJh3HT5KL3iSO_BYvBahy6xkASRBAMjRQJcYl6JzGAgPo/s400/balance.jpg" width="224" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This lesson of being present for the massage has come about
because of a realization with my work schedules that are ever changing. There
is no point stressing myself out trying to remember what time I work each day
and each week. So how I stop my mind from going out of balance is to stop my
mind from the attempt to remember. I remove the need to remember by looking at
when I work the day before. This keeps me present and doesn’t fill my mind with
unnecessary information. If I need to know I can look it up.<br />
<br />
I also got myself a dry erase board for the fridge that holds a fortnights worth
of upcoming appointments. My memory since the car accident is pretty crap, and
so I kind of have no choice but to put my appointments in one place. Doing so
on the fridge… somewhere I visit each morning is like giving myself a place to
trust instead of my memory.<br />
<br />
I am also leaving a job because it is forever tipping me to imbalance. I can no
longer work such long hours when mental and physical are non-stop. The need to
take a break and relax is a real need.10-12 hours of working straight is
something my dog hates me doing too… and I also need balance for her. She’s a
priority I paid a lot of money for, and she too cares about long work hours.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Am I naive in wanting to find balance in existence
irrespective of me? I want balance to BE. What I mean is, whether it is me or
someone else that walks into the room the environment is balance, not the
individual entering. Which isn’t to say I don’t want to be balance or HAVE TO
be balance—because frankly—if the environment is balance then my turning up and
also being balance is a successful situation, and I’ve said it before, success
takes us to happiness, and what is happiness? (the meaning of life when I’m the
one answering that question.) I want to be balance without being the balance
generator. I feel like this might be daydreaming. I can’t be the only person
out there seeing the great need for balance.<br />
<br />
Here… it’s like rims and tires… I don’t want to be the rims or the tires. Or
even the alignment for that matter. Id rather turn up and do the part as the
tire tread. If I also have to be the entire tire, I’m left wondering just how
effective the rims are, and considering my need to be rims too. Balanced rims
and tires mean my tread is totally useful and needed as a balanced part of this
“system”. Concentrating on my role of helping the vehicle move forward safely.
Some people in this world want to be the tread, the tire, the rims, and the
whole damn vehicle. But you know what that is? Imbalance. I don’t care what
aspect of life you look at, whether it’s what you put in your body
(food/drink/drugs), how you treat your body (exhaustion/abuse/respect), and
where you stand emotionally (lack/steady/excessive), you will “succeed at
living” when you find balance. Learning to see when too much is too much, when
scarcity is too severe, and learning (or just finally seeing) where balance is
and how you capture it. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have glimpses of balance, I’m going to use those to get
more of it.</div>
Natalie Andhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16934118391634307956noreply@blogger.com0