Friday, April 17, 2020

The Reflection of Shadows: Without You

The Reflection of Shadows
A collection of moments


Society6


Without You

In distance, we're light years apart,
But you - you're branded in my heart,
You're with me in my restless sleep
In cherished, haunted memories.

You're in the pieces left behind
Of this new puzzle of my life,
With missing pieces, missing peace -
Missing you here next to me.

When I break down, when I give up,
When tears come pouring flood by flood,
I'm drowning in this sea of blue;
When I lost you, I lost me, too.

I've prayed and pleaded Father Time
To pause, to stop, to hit rewind,
To let me have just one more day,
To let me try to change your fate.

Though life is short, these days are long,
And nothing numbs the endless raw,
Yet when I close my eyes to rest
Memories of you dance in my head.

Each memory a puzzle piece,
A precious moment I can keep,
A shard of hope / a dagger red -
Pieces of my heart in shreds.

And when the morn shall break anew,
I'll still be left here missing you -
I'll be here with a piece of you.
(A piece of me is in you, too.)






Friday, April 10, 2020

The Reflection of Shadows: Together Rising

The Reflection of Shadows
A collection of moments

Elle Moss - Society6

Together Rising

The days are long,
The fears are great.
We've lost direction
But not the race.
This battle is long,
But victory can't wait -
Keep going, going -
Don't hesitate.

We've lost the prize,
The prize of time,
We've lost some hope,
But not the fight.
Our will is shaken
But not our might.
All together:
Together we rise.



Tuesday, March 31, 2020

8 Weeks Later: A Puppy Story



Hi Friends,

I know the world is a scary and uncertain place right now. Every day brings new information and new stories - both terrifying and uplifting. In an effort to help lift your spirits a little more, here's a happy little story about our newest family member, Bentley.
_

8 Weeks Later

Last March, we had to unexpectedly say goodbye to our sweet baby, Samson (also known as Bean to all of our friends and family). Losing my furry little man was one of the most painful experiences of my life; the grief was overwhelming. After all of the people I've lost, you'd think I'd be better at this, but no - this was a whole new type of pain.

After we lost Bean, something odd started happening. Anytime I needed to write the date numerically, I would accidentally turn my 3 into an 8. This happened over and over and over again. Pretty soon, all of my 3's were becoming 8's on everything, not just dates.

I, being the believer in "signs" that I am, tried to figure out what that meant. My assumption was something good was going to happen in August. A new puppy or three, perhaps?!? I had no idea what, but I was game for anything happy at that point.

To my surprise, almost 8 weeks later to the day, we found our new little man. Coincidence? Maybe. But for me, this was my sign.

Bentley, my little Tater Tot, is the complete opposite of Samson. It's exactly what our household needed, to be shaken up with a new personality.

Where Samson was all love, Bentley is all fight. He is fiery and destructive and yes, still a little lovable ball of cuddles. A little lovable destructor who, we're pretty sure, wants to rule (and possibly destroy) earth.

Samson hated being outside for long, he hated gravel, he hated nature for the most part. Bentley can't get enough of it. He loves everything about the outside and, if he could, would live in our backyard full time. He has made tunnels in our rose bushes, he scavenges for rocks, he leaps over things he's most definitely not supposed to leap over; he's the furry version of Bear Grylls.

Samson was loud and talkative his whole life. Bentley isn't much for barking or whining, but he loves to growl. He growls when he's happy, when he's hungry, when he's tired or scared or sleepy or playful or excited or... you get the idea. Growling is his language. He's also the handsy-est pup I've ever met. He loves putting his little paws on your face, all four if he can manage. He likes to tap you when he wants your attention and, mainly, he likes to gives kisses with one little paw on your cheek the whole time.

Samson's base setting was happy; he was all love, all day. He was easy to raise in almost all senses. Bentley has every emotion possible and is, therefore, more complex. One minute he is all joy and wiggles, the next he's resource guarding your lap because he doesn't want you to move. He is wicked smart, and that means he's also wicked stubborn. We've learned a lot this past year in puppy parenting.

Bentley has been a great addition to our family. While we now have three holes in random places in our carpet (thank goodness we held off on the new flooring!) we also have so much happiness in our home. He's my little Tater Tot. My Tiny Terror. My Baby Bojangles with his jingly jangly puppy legs, going all directions when he was first getting the grasp of running around.

We don't deserve animals. They're too good and pure and loving. But thank goodness we get to love them.

Maybe now that you're stuck at home for a while, you can get that pet you've always wanted. If you do, make sure you can give them a forever home. They deserve your love for their whole life, because you'll be their whole world for all of theirs.

4 weeks old - a tater tot!

Hanging with dad, my new BFF.

Mom teaching me about selfies.

This is how we eat. 

Sleepy.

The Nibbler! He started young.

My toys are too big for me.

My brother is a GIANT!

Hello!

Sleepy snuggles.

Where's Bentley?

More mom snuggles.

Being adorable.

Dreaming of toys.

And dreaming some more about toys.

This giant toy is my girlfriend, the caterpillar. I love her.

I (still) hate going for walks.

Wearing my Superman shirt.

Stealing socks.

Poser.

Mom is always taking pictures of me.

Visiting grandma, being adorable again. 

Tucked in for bed.

I love/hate bedtime.

Seeing if mom can come play.

Deciding I will make mom come play by hopping on her desk.

Watching my favorite TV show.

The Walking Dead is kinda scary!

And being adorable some more.

Tuesday, February 18, 2020

Learning to be OK with things not being OK



Last year, if you were to have asked me how I was, I would probably have lied and told you I was fine. I would do the thing people expect when they ask how you're doing; give the simple "Great!" answer to the question so the conversation can move along with ease.

What I would've wanted to say, really and truthfully and yes, as awkwardly as it might be in the moment, is that things suck and, oh yeah, 2019 could go straight to hell. I would've wanted to tell you that the universe had decided that was the year to throw all the hard things at me; to set my life ablaze in the most spectacular fashion of stress, loss, exhaustion, illness, and literal fire.

My list of "why everything sucked last year" isn't what I want to talk about today. I don't want to tally all the ugly and hard and painful as a ploy for sympathy. Everyone has ugly and hard and painful in their lives. My pain doesn't make me special; it makes me human. And that's the part I want to talk about; being a human who went through those things and came out on the other side better, stronger, wiser, and yes, happier.

Phase 1: I like to call this...

 - The Dark 
 - The Infinite Ugh, the Never ending Sigh
 - And That Time in Life When Ice Cream is the Answer to Everything

When you're tired and broken and burned out, everything is more difficult. Life requires more out of you than you're capable of giving because you're depleted. Little stresses suddenly feel gigantic and earth shattering. Everyday things like grocery shopping seem absolutely impossible. People you know and love can become too much to handle. Almost everything requires more energy than you have to provide. Existing, in and of itself, is exhausting.

And when you're going through all of this, it's easy to get in a state of anger, frustration, and sadness. Complaining, pfft - that's even better, because right now everything in your immediate world sucks and there's nothing not to complain about, right? I feel you 100%.

This is the dark, the trenches, the time for lessons.

This is something Life will occasionally require from you, for you, so that you can become the best version possible of yourself.

Phase 2: I like to call this...

 - The Light
 - The Ah-ha's and Okay's
 - The "Enlightenment is the Answer to Everything" stage

For me, healing last year was not speedy; I was not speedy. I was not convenient. I sulked and screamed and cried and vented. And finally (finally!) made it through to the other side. In fact, if I'm being honest, I tried writing this post months ago, when I still still in the midst of my emotions, but I couldn't. I just could not.

I can now because I made it to the light; I'm back living in the light, to be more specific.

Here is what I know:

Sometimes, in the midst of your own personal wildfire, all you can do is burn. Later, comes the healing. Later comes the growth.

The pushback, the anger, the sadness, the fury at the situations that you keep being thrust into do nothing. The universe doesn't shy away at your anger. It continues, day in and day out. It persists while you resist - and the only loser is you. A lesson that has to be learned is taught, one way or another. Some of us are slow learners. I certainly am.

Last year, I was all of those things, and you better believe I resisted all those lessons like my life depended on it, because that was how it felt. I fought back against the wildfires of my life with anger and tears, all the while not realizing that my only option was to burn. To become ash and soot and start over again. That the harder I fought, the slower the lessons would come, the more painful the blaze.

Friends, it's OK to not be OK.

If that's where you are right now, be there. Feel this place you're in. I mean it - feel it like a blanket wrapped around you. Not one of those soft, cozy ones either. You don't feel soft and cozy, do you? No, no you do not. Feel it like it is. Like one of those annoying scratchy mo-fo's that feels the way nails sound on a chalkboard. (You just cringed, I know you did. Now you're getting it.)

Lean into the pain. Lean in hard, like you're back at the playground waiting for the opposing line of kids to send your specified Red Rover over, who's trying to break through your grasp. In this scenario, however, you are the red rover and you are the lines of hands, all clasped together. You are both fighting to hold on to what you know and struggling to get past the discomfort of change. But which is right?

In this case, neither.

In this game of Red Rover, you win by stopping and by letting go of your grip. You win by standing still and embracing what is instead of what is not. You win by allowing the wind to direct your course, much the way it directs a fire in the wild. You win by feeling all the feelings and not running from them, not forcing them to change. You win because you embrace them, thus learning from them.

I used a lot of metaphors today, so I'm gonna go ahead and call it a day. I think you get the picture.

I hope your 2020 is incredible. I hope you have nothing but happiness and success. But if you're struggling or if you don't quite feel the way you would like, just know you're not alone. You are strong and you will make it through whatever life throws your way.

I believe in you. Believe in yourself, too.


Tuesday, December 31, 2019

Progress is a Path, Not a Destination


Pinterest


Character Development

Progress is dancing to the same song I used to cry to.

- Flux by Orion Carloto


This past year was not a kind one, not an easy one, not a pleasure. It was painful and abrupt, at times; exhausting and never-ending at others. It was too slow, yet too fast. It was rough and rocky around the edges, painful to the touch more often than not. And even though there was beauty and joy intermingled in the ugliness, it wasn't quite enough to outweigh all the heaviness.

If 2019 had been a person, it would've been some dark god, some ominous higher power that zipped and zapped whoever it wanted, whenever it wanted, cursing them with a flick of its wrist.

That's how it felt to me, and to many of my friends who also had some of the roughest times of their lives these past twelve months.

This year has been a struggle - and I am not sad to see it go. While I know the turning of a calendar page doesn't actually change anything, there is unbridled hope in the thought that 2020 might be, can be, has to be a better year.

My last blog post was in June. If you're a long time reader, you'll know I've never taken this long of a writing break. I've never even taken an unannounced break because this little tiny blog is a passion project for me. What I've discovered is that everything must come to a halt sometimes, even the things you're truly, deeply passionate about, when healing is your number one priority.

No matter my love for the written (or typed) word, I couldn't muster the creativity to write. For a while, this lack of being able to craft something was yet one more thing that bothered me, one more worry, one more concern, piled on top of all the other things I was trying to face.

But what I've learned, and am still learning, is this:

Progress is a path, not a destination.

Healing doesn't happen overnight. It doesn't happen in days or weeks or even months, sometimes.

Healing happens in its own time.

Do all the things you need to do: Go to therapy. Cry. Scream. Get angry. But don't rush the process. Dig your heels in and say, "No, Life, I want this over with and I want it over with now!" and I guarantee you Life will dig its heels in even harder and add on a couple lessons about patience, thus extending your healing process.

The same logic applies to goals or, shall we say at this special time of year, resolutions. Whatever you're setting your heart to accomplish in 2020, remember:

Progress is a path, not a destination.

Give yourself time. If you make a mistake or fall short of your target, get back up and keep on walking that path. Everything you need to learn and achieve can and will happen when you put one foot in front of the other and keep on going.

You've got this, friends. I believe in you.

Farewell, 2019.

You taught me a lot. About life, about myself. About the grace in falling apart, the serenity in letting the pieces land where they may, and the peace in letting go.

I'm letting go of you.

Here's to 2020, a new year of possibilities. Come what may.


Sunday, June 2, 2019

The Question Series: Purpose and Meaning

What's the point to all of this?

The Question Series
Society6
Catarina Garcia Artist
My Friends,

Lately, I've had more questions than answers. More wonderings than certainty. More doubts. However, the one thing I know (when I know nothing else) is that there's at least one other person out there somewhere going through the same thing I am. Wondering and questioning and hoping they're not alone in their thoughts.

They're not. I'm not.

Let's ponder these questions together.
_

Life can feel really hopeless at times. It can feel confusing and overwhelming and down right pointless.

I was on a tour bus not that long ago, driving down the beautiful Great Ocean Road in Melbourne, Australia. The Great Ocean Road is a giant stretch of land that is purely, sinfully gorgeous. The ocean views, the wildlife, the landscape - all of it breathtaking. All of it seemingly meaningful. It was a long day, so I had plenty of time to look out the window and think all the thoughts one could possibly think. It's both a wonderful and terrible thing to do, thinking.

Consider for a moment one of the smallest of creatures, yet one of the most vital: the bee. They pollinate the plants which in turn give life to us, to our crops, to other animals that live off the vegetation, like the antelope. The antelope, who is the lion's dinner, and the lion who helps keep the population in check. Who, although king of the animals, will one day perish and turn to dust and thus, return to the earth providing nutrients where a new plant will grow for a new bee to pollinate.

A perfect circle of life.

Nature's purpose is clear and defined and connected.

The purpose of human beings, on the other hand, is far more complicated.

We build great things, achieve unbelievable feats, and collectively, as a race, we've done some awesome stuff. But individually, with so many of us now on the planet, it can be hard to look around and really know why you're here and what you're meant to do. Are you destined to be a farmer who grows crops to provide food for others? Or a scientist who solves the mystery of black holes? Or maybe you're purpose is to raise a child that will one day grow up to change the world in some significant way? The possibilities are endless.

The possibilities can feel overwhelming.

And lonely.

And devastating, especially if you've spent time chasing something that never comes to fruition.

Have you ever seen someone and thought, 'That person is doing exactly what they were placed on this earth to do'? It's rare, I think, and I've only see it a handful of times where in my gut I honestly felt that knowledge rise up and nod in acknowledgement of the force in front of me. Take Christina Aguilera, for example, whose voice is other worldly. She was meant to be a singer, through and through. She might also be a great friend and mother and joke teller, but her voice is a clear gift to the world.

The other challenge we face in finding our place on this big blue orb is the sheer volume of our species. Back in the day (and I mean way back) there were only so many humans. Therefore, it was far more likely that each person contributed to society in a way that really felt meaningful at the end of each and every single day. Everyone had something they were good at or that benefited others, so it was easier to stand out for whatever skill or craft you brought to the table.

But now? Now there are billions of us. Standing out among the masses is much, much harder. Knowing your skill or craft or purpose is seemingly impossible. Purpose; an intangible idea we chase. Some people are lucky. They know exactly who they are and what they're meant to do. For most of us, though, we are continually on the hunt, constantly in search of an answer to our reason for existence.

Maybe humans, collectively, are meant to love. Maybe our purpose is to perfect the art of loving one another. Maybe it's kindness; maybe we're supposed to keep trying trying trying until we perfect the act of kindness.

Or maybe each and every one of us does have a purpose that may simply not be clear in the moment. Maybe our purposes are all connected together like puzzle pieces. In the bigger picture view, everything we're doing could be vital. Absolutely essential. However, because life is long and things take a while to come to fruition, we may rarely, if ever, get to see the full and complete puzzle.

For instance, let's say you're the best animal care giver in the world. Maybe you raised a puppy that, in turn, a veteran adopted that then brought him or her so much joy. Joy they never thought they could feel again. And maybe, because of their new found joy, they ventured out and found love. They went on to get married and have a child, and that child went on to learn piano, which in turn led them to create one of the most beautiful pieces of music ever heard. This child went on to become a master pianist bringing happiness to all who listened to their music; animal care givers and veterans alike. All because you took care of a puppy that brought joy and hope to a person who needed it. Full circle. Puzzle complete. All because of you.

It's hard to say what we're here to do. I don't even know this for myself. But I do believe we owe it to ourselves, and maybe the universe, to try...something. Anything. To dream and reach and stretch so far we feel like we might break, but to do it anyway because the "something" we're chasing makes us feel alive, brings us joy, and helps us reside in the knowledge that we matter.

Because we do. You matter. I matter.

We matter.



Sunday, May 12, 2019

The Reflection of Shadows: Piece by Piece

The Reflection of Shadows
A collection of moments

Piece by Piece
(written to a tune)

Once upon a time, not that long ago,
I found a little bean,
A little seed starting to grow,
I found a puzzle piece, a perfect fit to my
Puzzled heart-
This was our start.

Not that long ago, yesterday it seems,
A special holiday,
A new beginning,
The journey of all journeys, we were on our way,
You and me-
That Mother's Day.

Piece by piece
We came to be
And
Piece by piece
We built our family
And
Piece by piece
We found our way-
You and me,
My little Bean.

Once upon a time, not that long ago,
I watched you learn,
I watched you grow,
I watched our little puzzle of a life become complete,
With each new piece-
Each memory.

Not that long ago, yesterday it seems,
I watched you grow old,
I saw you changing,
I held you in my arms as I raced against time,
Destined to lose
What was mine.

Piece by piece
I fell apart
and
Piece by piece
Our puzzle warped
and
Piece by piece
I lost my way-
Without you
I'm not the same.

Once upon a time, not that long ago,
The tears came fast,
Reality came slow,
The pieces of my heart that you'd once made whole
Shattered in
A whispered "No."

Not that long ago, yesterday it seems,
I was holding you,
You were looking at me,
We were playing, you were happy, we were making memories,
You and me,
My little Bean.

Piece by piece
I'm starting again
and
Piece by piece
I'm starting to mend
and
Piece by piece
I'll find my way
Back to the puzzle
We built that very first day.

Piece by piece
I'll heal my heart
and
Piece by piece
I'll remember the start
Of
You and me
And the life we built-
It was perfect,
You made it perfect.
You were perfect,
My little Bean.


Wednesday, April 24, 2019

The Reflection of Shadows: Hurricanes

The Reflection of Shadows
A collection of moments
Society6
Hurricanes

We all have dark and stormy days,
Emotions crashing wave by wave,
Threatening to overtake
The best in all of us.

We all have hurricanes inside,
Raging through our precious lives,
Halting us amid our stride,
Challenging our strength.

So will you let the pain remain?
Will you drown and suffocate?
Or will you, maybe,
Headstrong, bravely,
Umbrella raised and raincoat ready,
Drenched in fear but not in shame,
Run into the rain?