Shit Eating Grin

I must tell you a story before I get to the point of this blog post.  Bear with me here.  My mom tells the story of when I was a crawling baby girl, I ventured into the room she was in, brown stuff smeared on my face.  Perplexed, she watched me crawl out of the room and followed me.... straight to the pile of dog shit that was responsible for the mess upon my mug.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I had been eating dog doodoo.  I know.  You gag.  It is a disgusting thought, and even more vile is that my mother believes I was going back for seconds.

Don't worry. "Shit" is not what this blog post is all about.  On second thought, maybe that's exactly what this is about. Let's turn SHIT into an acronym.  We could say....

So Happy Its Thursday
Sorry Husband I Tried (closer to the truth of the matter)
Simply How I'm Thinking (Although maybe not so simple)
Sorry Have It Tomorrow (When does tomorrow ever come.. the tomorrow when you actually get IT, that thing you are waiting for?!?)

My mind is just in this strange place.  This story of my baby days frozen in my mind.  When I think about it and everyone goes---- OOOOOOOH gross, Angie.  WHY?!?  I want to say to them, and yet I never do.... First of all, I was under a year old, but how do you know shit really tastes that bad? We are conditioned to think poop would taste as bad as it smells, the topic of poo is taboo, we don't talk about our bowel movements with others, the smell of shit lingers with us for a long time..... but how do we know it tastes bad until we actually give it a try? (Yes this is a stretch... but I am hopeful you get where I am going with this line of thinking).

I don't know.  I just have this feeling that someday, as others are asking me WHY.... that I will be sitting back, satisfied for the first time in a very long time, wearing a shit eating grin upon my face.

Snapshot

    Here is a small piece of me. Smiling.

Revolution

The Terrible Twos.  If I had not chosen the abortion, it's quite possible that is what I would be dealing with right now.  A two year old child.  I loved that time in my son's life.  Now he is 15 going on 21 and finds my voice incredibly annoying as he told me yesterday morning as I drove him to school.  I proceeded to (not very hard) whack him upside the head to which he hollered "NOW YOU MESSED UP MY HAIR".   Hilarious in many ways.  Behaving like a toddler. How caught up he (and in the bigger picture, WE) is in his ego, the world simply revolves around him.

Sometimes I wish the world revolved around me..... and sometimes I wish my son had a sibling to teach him about sharing, give and take, caring for others, about love in a way we can only learn from a sister or brother.  I never wish, however, that sibling was a toddler right now :)

Our decisions and their effects are far reaching in ways we never imagine.  Choices.  Cause and effect. The story of our life. Plans to change, written down in notebooks, only to be thrown under the bed, forever hidden.

-------------------------------

"Be the spark", she said.

I googled that phrase... "be the spark".  Here I would find lyrics to a song that I have never heard, and honestly, how could this have been more right on?  Really.  Take a look. The group, Mindset (I am not making that up) and the song "Be the Spark".

"More than words, this is a revolution...
When problems arise, be the solution. 
The change has got to come from deep within 
but you've got to pull the trigger for the race to begin.
The world is falling apart. 
Apathy is a crime.

WE CAN MOVE MOUNTAINS ONE ROCK AT A TIME.

If it's gotta start somewhere, it's going to start with me.
Become the change you want to see.

Be the change you want to see.

Sometimes it seems like it can't be done, 
but if I don't care why should anyone? 
You want to start a fire? Be the spark.

It's going to take a fire to light the dark."

Tell Me Something Good

Suggestion... if you wake up a little blah, here is what you do.  Take a shower, stay in your towel, blast the song "Tell Me Something Good" by Chaka Khan and Rufus in your bathroom.... and DANCE... be sure to sing, too.. top of your lungs. You must be using your hairbrush as your mic. Otherwise, failure.  And if your towel drops in the process and you are left dancing around in your birthday suit... go with it.  It's good.

Video link on youtube below. Chaka Khan is a badass.

Tell Me Something Good

Daring Greatly

At the advice of a reader (thanks!!), I just placed an order on Amazon.com.  The book is called "Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead".

http://www.amazon.com/Daring-Greatly-Courage-Vulnerable-Transforms/dp/1592407331/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1367865494&sr=8-1&keywords=books+daring+greatly

On the path to engaging with my whole heart <3 Being strong and never weak.... time to close that chapter and find a different street to walk down.

Catalysts

A friend recently shared with me a fave quote of his .... "One's real life is often the life that one does not lead" (Oscar Wilde). Let those words sink in.  Now what does that mean to you?  I analyzed how this applies to me (for days).  I often wonder along these lines... am I living a life that fulfills me-- the one I know I am meant to be living, where I am being authentic, where I have the freedom to be myself (huge issue for me). Wanting this part of me that I hide from others to come out. Considering the need to stay within a comfort zone yet by doing that, what am I missing... or even more profound question... what am I avoiding? Flip-side... what's so bad about being comfortable?

Choice. So much encompassed in those s i x letters.  And the idea of making a choice, doing what you know is the right choice for you... taking action and moving forward is ultimately what my path has been about these past few years.What drives the choices we make, more specifically... what is the spark, the thing that makes ME continue in much the same way. Not allowing myself any sort of vulnerability in my life, not needing, not baring who I really am to those that love me. What keeps one from allowing them self to be seen by others?

I would venture to guess pain and shame. Not seeing your own value. Repetitive patterns of behavior. Defense mechanisms.

Event: hurt by someone you counted on (let's say parent as perpetrator of pain)
Reaction: bury. deny.
When asked how you were effected by said event: you say you are fine.
Lesson learned: don't count on people to protect or be there for you.

Insert friend or husband into event. Same formula.

Or let's be more specific.
Event: miscarriages
Reaction: bury, deny.
When asked how I was effected by each of them say- I am fine. When asked if you really wanted it, if you want another really, say... No, it's fine. (Fine works as a response to most questions)
Lesson learned: keep your feelings to yourself. Saying fine shuts them all up. "Less painful" that way... and exactly what a self-defeatist would do.

This brings me back to a post I did a couple of years ago where I posted a poem called "Autobiography in Five Chapters" by Portia Nelson. Here it is again below:

1) I walk down the street. 

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. 

I fall in. 

I am lost... I am hopeless. 

It isn't my fault. 

It takes forever to find a way out. 

2) I walk down the same street. 

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. 

I pretend I don't see it. 

I fall in again. 

I can't believe I'm in the same place. 

But it isn't my fault. 

It still takes a long time to get out. 

3) I walk down the same street. 

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. 

I see it is there. 

I still fall in... it's a habit. 

My eyes are open. 

I know where I am. 

It is my fault. 

I get out immediately. 

4) I walk down the same street. 

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. 

I walk around it. 

5) I walk down another street. 

Striving to become conscious. Letting go of resistance. Responsibility for one's self.  Evolution.  Releasing pain. Loving you. Making the choice. Taking control. Encountering catalysts.  Recognizing their purpose.  

In simpler terms, I believe it is my time to shit or get off the pot.

Happy Monday :)

Cowardice

Cowardice.  I like this definition of the word: fear that makes you unable to do what is right or expected; lack of courage.

I think being a coward has played a huge part in my life, my marriage, pregnancies, abortion, etc.  Scared to say what I think, how I feel (without expressing myself dropping an F bomb or having my words drip in anger), to ask for what I need, what I want, to admit my faults, to tell the truth.  Yes, I have been a coward.  I have been scared to stand up for what I believe in, which I think is an avoidance of doing what is truly right. I have avoided doing the right thing, lacked the courage to speak up, to own up to who I am.  I understand being a coward.

And today, wow did I get slapped with a huge stick of cowardice right upside my head.

I am a Gandhi fan, and I happen to love this quote: Fear has its use but cowardice has none.