T.L. Gray's Blog, page 3

Dealing with Loss

Life is constantly changing and in those changes sometimes things get lost, things that are essential to our hearts and souls, to our minds and well-being.  It would be great if we were able to accumulate and keep everything and everyone that came into our lives, especially the people who we love most and who have impacted us most in our lives, but we can’t. No matter how much we wish it, how much we want it, we came into this world alone and we will leave it alone, and along the way we will have to deal with loss.  The worst pain I ever felt in my life was losing someone I loved, especially because it was hard for me to love in the first place. It took me so long to open my heart and let that love in – and then to have it taken from me so quickly. I still find myself waiting – waiting for someone that is gone in my life to just walk around the corner and greet me again with that beautiful smile, to  speak words of encouragement to me when it seems like everything and everyone is against me, to tell me I can when I don’t believe it.  But, he never comes – and I keep waiting.  Even today, after twenty-six years, I feel this empty space he left behind.  But, I only have to close my eyes and I can picture him smiling at me, urging me forward in my life, daring me to take those chances, and trying to provoke me into giving love another shot.  I talk to him all the time, because I know what he would say to me.  Right now someone very special to me, someone I love deeply and care for greatly, is dealing with a loss and I don’t know how to help him. I know the pain he is in and I want to tell him it gets easier and eventually the pain goes away, but it doesn’t.  I want to tell him that she’s in a better place, watching over him, and he will see her again someday, but I really can’t make that promise either because I don’t know if it’s true or not. I have faith it is, but it’s not something I can promise. It’s not my call. I know the emptiness he is feeling inside. I know the questions, and the doubts, and the fears, and the anger, and the bargaining, and everything else that comes with grief.  I’m so scared he’s going to be weak like me and let that pain build a door and a wall that will push everyone else out – and go through the motions of life but not really live.  But, I can’t stop him.  It’s got to be his choice.  What comforts me when I think about my loss is remembering the smiles, the laughter, the conversations, and the dreams we built together.  When I’m hurting or doubting, I hear his words and his voice pushing me forward and encouraging me.  That’s what I want for Scott – I want him to think about what ‘she’ would want for him, what ‘she’ would tell him if she was sitting beside him, what ‘she’ would want him to do. He knows what she would say. He knows what she would want. And THAT is what I want him to push for, to strive for, and to make happen in his life.  He has a fighting motto – “Find something worth dying for – and then live for it.”  I pray he heeds his own motto. Ecclesiastes 3 reads, “There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, and time for war and a time for peace.” Ecclesiastes 3:12: “I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live.”  That’s what I want for him – to be happy and to do good while he lives.  To live in the moment, to live in the day, and not just merely exist.  He is in a time of mourning, but he must look toward the new sun and not dwell on what is gone for more than a cycle of the moon (30 days) lest it become work of the enemy to steal his strength and joy.  I know the pain of holding on too long. But, what can I say or do?  I am helpless because this is his journey, his walk, and his burden to bear.  James whispers to me when I’m feeling overwhelmed and helpless to do anything to ease his pain – and reminds me that where there is much grief there is much love. All I can do is love and pray and wait. Dealing with loss is not easy. It hurts. It hurts badly.  I can’t save the world from feeling loss, but perhaps just try to remind it that there is/was/will be love in the world too.  I know that James loved me and he always wanted what was best for me – and knowing that, I have tried to live my life pursing love, pursuing happiness, pursuing the dreams we built together.  I want him to be proud of me, as I have become proud of myself. For my children, when I am gone, I would want them to be happy, to be loved, to live each day as if it were their last, to take chances and risks, and to not be afraid to fail and get back up.  That’s what makes life valuable.  Till next time, ~T.L. Gray

Voices of Authority

I love listening to podcasts while I work. Some of my favorites are Jocko Willink at #JockoPodcast, Mike Ritland at #MikeDrop, Marcus and Morgan Luttrell at #TeamNeverQuit, David Rutherford at #FrogLogic, Shawn Ryan at #VigilanceElite, Andy Stumpf at #ClearedHot, Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark at #MyFavoriteMurder and motivational videos by David Goggins.  Life is hard.  Getting up every day to push my aging body into a healthy state, going to work all day, and then running around doing all the errands life has in store for me like grocery shopping, walking the dog, checking the mail, paying bills, cleaning, cooking, etc., that make my life my life – can be draining on the mind, heart, body and soul.  While I have learned a long, long, long time ago that no one is going to motivate me more than I’m going to motivate myself, I sometimes can use a little help. I’m careful what I listen to, just like I have to be careful what I eat.  What I pour into my body, mind, heart and soul is what I am going to reap. I push hard because I want good results.  I keep going when I don’t feel like it because my desire for my goal is more than my desire to be lazy.  Believe me, I want to take the easy road. I’ve been begging for the easy road my whole life, but it doesn’t seem I’m made for the easy road.  I feel like I’m a pulpwood truck designed to carry heavy loads down pot-hole-ridden dirt roads, when I want to be a Lamborghini flying down the Autobahn. Instead I slap some pretty paint over my rough body and get to work.I’ve chosen the podcasts I listen to for a purpose – to receive strength. These are warriors, pioneers, over-achievers, inspirers, motivators and leaders.  They are Navy SEALs, MMA fighters, Ju-Jitsu teachers, runners, comedians, professionals, survivors, poets and professionals. They don’t just talk shit – they do it. I don’t want to hear talk from someone who’s read about it, studied it, or has thoughts and ideas about something … I want to hear from people who KNOW, who have sacrificed, who have put the work in, who have paid the price – and STILL keeps fighting, never quits, never accepts the excuses that life hands to them on a daily basis. I want to learn from someone who has some authority. I don’t want to THINK about doing something - I want to overcome. I am a survivor. I am a fighter. I am warrior.  I am a woman. So, let’s go Jocko.  Let that smooth, deep, voice of authority lead me into the wisdom and knowledge of your experience and leadership. Thank you for letting me know I’m not the only insane 4am warrior in this universe. Love Echo’s questions – keep ‘em coming. Let’s go, Mike. Keep reminding me to be real, to lay it all out there, and remember my humanity, my training, and my discipline. You’re a stone for this tumbleweed. Man, I love you. I have loved EVERY podcast I have listened from you. I hope my opinion matters in this case, because I sure as Hell know it doesn’t on your podcast.  Let’s go, Rut. Pour out your poems and your deep-rooted hope that stirs my soul. Let’s go Marcus and Morgan – keep reminding me to never give up, to never quit, and that there is life after survival.  Andy, Andy, Andy …you’re one smart cookie – keep letting me know I can’t be cleared hot and that danger is always close. Come on, Goggins – help me bear the suffering and keep running and keep standing in that mirror of accountability. Keep showing me I don’t have to be defined by this world that I can do anything I set my mind to accomplish if I’m willing to really suffer for it. Hooyah! Come on Ryan, push that vigilance, take aim at the target, and keep true.  Come on Karen and Georgia, make me laugh and do it while reminding me the world is full of dangerous people, and show me how strong, smart, opinionated, foul-mouthed woman can succeed. Oh, and the lessons on murder – well, who knows if those will come in handy someday.All these people are beautiful inspirations to me. Each of them have inspired me and motivated me to keep going, and they do it every day.  They are filling my heart and my mind with the tools and weapons I need to keep pushing to succeed, and I appreciate the hell out of them. They are my voices of authority.  God is my ultimate authority, but I believe these are his modern-day prophets.  They LIVE his Word in truth and deed.  They’re not preachers or evangelists knocking on your doors and trying to push a belief on you. They’re real people, real heroes, and real examples. I don’t want to just hear or read a principle, I want to see it in action, I want to see it applied, I want to see the results it produces, and I love what these men and women are producing.  I never listened to podcasts before, but now I don’t want to go through my day without them. Check these guys out. I promise you won’t be sorry. Till next time,~T.L. Gray
Podcast Links:
My Favorite Murder - https://www.myfavoritemurder.com/Jocko Podcast - http://jockopodcast.com/Mike Drop - https://mikeritland.com/mike-drop-podcast/Vigilance Elite - https://www.vigilanceelite.com/Team Never Quit - https://teamneverquit.com/podcast/Cleared Hot - https://www.clearedhotpodcast.com/David Goggins - https://youtu.be/-vY1cgnQQq0

Reload and React

Many days and many times I run out of energy. I am made of energy and everything I do requires energy -  energy to move, energy to dig in, energy to keep going, energy to talk, energy to feel, energy to stay positive, energy to work, energy to play, etc.  ON the downside, it also takes energy to cry, energy to hurt, energy to worry, energy to stress, energy to fret, and energy to be angry.  Energy is the strength and vitality required for sustained physical or mental activity. Motivation is stored positive energy. Inspiration is the birth of energy. Isolation is my way to protect my energy. Procrastination is the reluctance to expel or use energy.  It’s the source of my vitality, it what animates my life, it’s what fuels my passions, stirs the fires within my soul, it strengthens my desires, is the source of my strength and stamina.  It’s another name for drive-desire-determination.  So what happens when I am empty? When I’ve made decisions in my life that expel and use more energy than I produce and store?  My gas tank runs dry, my guns have no ammunition, and my reserves are empty. Life is about balance.  ALWAYS balance.  If I want something different to happen in my life, I have to do something different.  If I want to use energy, I must learn to store and build the same amount of energy. But often I’m unbalanced, using more than I stored, burning my gears, becoming exhausted.  Love is energy, but that too has to be in balance. If I love more than the amount of love I receive, I’m unbalanced and will burn out.  If I receive more love than I give, I’ll become complacent and take advantage and become dependent on its source.  But, then what happens when that love disappears from my life because it’s been exhausted? Will I have anything stored?That’s not how energy works.  That’s not how love works. Neither has a shelf life. It’s a force that needs constant motion or movement, it’s always building or breaking, growing or dying.  The more I pour in, the faster and harder I can go – in the present. I can’t store it in now and expect to use it in 20 years. Stored energy needs to be used quickly and soon. Stored love is to be used in the present.  At some point I have to learn to pour in, to build, to store at the same time, and with the same measure I’m using and consuming. I want energy in my body, so I make decisions in my life that help me build energy on a daily basis to balance out my daily workout routines that require a lot of energy, especially this new routine my boyfriend created for me. I want to be productive at work every day, so I have to make sure I get rest the night before – every day.  If I don’t build and store every day, I won’t be able to work out every day.  If I don’t work out every day, I won’t get the results I need. If I fall asleep at work every day, I will eventually lose that job.So, don’t forget to reload – everything you will need - every day. But don’t just reload.  Once you’ve got your daily dose, REACT – use the energy you’ve built for the thing you’ve built it for.  Don’t look at me like you don’t know what I’m saying. Some of you just realized you don’t have, or you can’t, or you stopped, or you failed …because you haven’t been reloading your reserves. You’ve been wondering why there’s some emptiness in your life or why something isn’t working. You won’t get to the gym diligently everyday if you’re not being just as diligent in your diet and sleep – everyday. If you’re not loving, respecting, appreciating others, then don’t fucking expect it in return. It’s insane to expect something for nothing, yet we live in a society that believes in that fairy tale. I see it every day. People want healthy fit bodies AND eat pizza while sitting on their asses all day playing video games.  They want money, but not the job required to earn it. If you want energy, build energy.  If you want POSITIVE energy, then put Positive measures into place and be positive, even when the rest of the world is a bitter asshole. Till next time,
~T.L. Gray

Whatever It Takes

How many of us say this, and convince ourselves we believe it, but don’t do it?  Will I really do ‘whatever’ it takes?  How about when it gets hard? When no one else believes and supports me? When there’s no reward? No accolades? When it hurts? When it costs? When it requires me to give up someone or something else I love? When it doesn’t match my dreams or imagination? Right now I’ve been doing this new workout program my boyfriend created for me. I suffer. It hurts me. It pushes me. I have to fight the fifty excuses screaming at me every morning, telling me to go back to bed, taunting me that it isn’t working, I’m wasting my time.  Yes, knowing I’m about to go suffer, I get up, put on my gym clothes, tie my hair in a ponytail, and then drive to the gym.  EVERY exercise hurts, and then the last of each set where I have to take myself to muscle failure – makes me want to throw up. But, I do WHATEVER it takes. I quit focusing on the pain I’m feeling and KNOW I’m going to feel throughout the day and then what I’m going to feel through the night and tomorrow, and focus on the next success.  Do I love to suffer or feel pain? Hell NO!  But, what I do love more than the pain and suffering is being strong, healthy, and active.  I’m 48. My body is ready to start resting, slow down, take it easy – but I’m not.  I’ve got too many dreams, too many things I still have yet to do. I got pissed off and frustrated the other day because I wasn’t strong enough to carry my kayak on my own.  I’m going to fix that problem, watch me. I’ll do whatever it takes. I haven’t figured it out yet, but I’m thinking about it. I love to kayak, I have a kayak, I have an SUV to carry my kayak, and I am not going to let being small and weak stop me from enjoying something I love to do. And I refuse to depend on someone else to do it.  Don’t get me wrong, if someone else is around, I’ll gladly and appreciatively use their help, but I’m not going to let the lack of help being available stop me. I made a promise to myself a few years ago I wasn’t going to let the actions or inactions of others stop me anymore for doing what I want and love. I spent more than 20 years practically begging to go to the Grand Canyon. We had the means, time, and opportunity, but no one else wanted to go, so I allowed my dream to be put on the back burner with an empty promise of the next year – that never came.  So, I made a vow to myself to not let other’s stop me from doing what I want anymore. I still haven’t made it to the Grand Canyon, but believe me – It’s in the planning stage. As soon as I have vacation time – I’m going to see that big hole in the ground, even if I have to go alone. I’ll do WHATEVER IT TAKES. I’m going to find a way to load and unload my kayak ON MY OWN – whatever it takes. In my writing – I do whatever it takes. Writing is hard, it takes devotion, time, patience, bleeding your soul onto the page …and if I want publication – more hard work, being “on” in order to market, promote, engage, sitting at hot festivals, sitting on panels with a bunch of snobbish people, wearing thick skin from the opinionated bad reviews or advice from everyone in or outside the business who thinks they can write your stuff better than you.  Dealing with people …sigh.  BUT, I LOVE writing, it’s as much a part of me as breathing so when I set my mind to a project – I’ll do whatever it takes to see it fly onto the page and then out into the universe. I’m not going to let those things or people stop me.In work, in relationships, paying my bills, providing for myself, life in general … I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ve only got me. I have people in my life who care about me, but I, ALONE, am responsible for myself.  I’m an independent single woman. I don’t have a husband to share the burdens of this life. My kids are grown and they have themselves to care for, and it’s not their job to take care of me. I have no parents. So, I must do whatever it takes. So, watch me do just that.Till next time

The Terminal List by Jack Carr - Part 2

The Terminal List by Jack Carr Amazon


Okay, I’m a few days late, but here is the second part to my review of The Terminal List by Jack Carr. I want to get into the conspiracy theories promoted in this story.  To tell you the truth, I started getting pissed.  First from the prologue, wanting to know who the hell sent this SEAL team to die, to murder them while they are doing what they’ve been trained to do, while they believed they were serving their country.  I can only imagine thoughts like that have to be in the back of the mind for those out there putting their lives on the line.  What a betrayal! These guys risk their life for the mission, for their country, because they believe in their country. They are trained to trust their teams, and the people in authority over them. These teams are made up mostly of fathers, sons, husbands, and brothers with a deep sense of duty and honor.  It’s a hard job and they can get lost at times, lose sight of the mission, lose themselves beneath stress and pressure, but at their heart they’re our heroes.  To have someone betray that trust, and then use that betrayal to cover their own selfish agenda is deplorable. I’m not naïve. I know the world is full of greedy bastards that kill, manipulate and plunder for their own material gains.  There’s a lot more than I’d like to admit, but that’s the way of the world. In this story, this betrayal comes from the leaders that our protagonist, Lieutenant Commander James Reece, trusted and obeyed, not only who tried to kill him, but killed his brothers-in-arms. So, I was asking, ‘What the hell was this level of betrayal for?’ thinking money was the root. Yes, ultimately, money was the root to this evil, but author Jack Carr doesn’t just give us that simplistic single reason – no, we get slapped with another double whammy with an even bigger betrayal – the Team guys were murdered because they were evidence, they were guinea pigs for experimental drugs.  Before they were terminated by enemy bombs, they were first terminal victims of a biological weapon. Man, oh man.  Fear is a bitch, and I can imagine that again these types of fears of betrayal are on our Team guys’ mind at times. I found myself getting angry the more I read this story. I know its fiction, but its plausible issues that our SEALs could face and it just makes me irate that it probably has happened in some fashion, or probably will happen at some point.  What a messy business.  Rescuing and killing. I can’t imagine how hard that can be on a soul. The Terminal List by Jack Carr definitely stirs the mind and pushes my buttons. I do recommend it, it’s very well-written, it’s a great read, but it’s not for the faint-hearted or the weak-minded.  An ostrich can’t read it, a sheep couldn’t understand it, a wolf would be offended, and a shepherd would be ashamed.I planned on a third part of this review to talk about all the guns and weapons described in this book, but I really don’t understand them. I love that a glossary was added, but while I can’t appreciate the beauty of the weapon (but I’m sure a weapons guy would love those parts best) I got the gist the story. They served their purpose, but I’ll leave those details to those who know what they’re talking about; I’ll stick to the writing, the pacing, and dialogue, the moral of the story, the emotion, and the writer’s voice. Jack Carr is a natural story-teller, a silver-tongue, and I love listening to his interviews and podcasts.  He writes a really well story, with great pacing, and good structure.  I look forward to reading True Believer.  If you haven’t read Terminal List by Jack Carr – go read it now!  You won’t regret it. Till next time,~T.L. Gray

Thr Terminal List by Jack Carr Review

It’s been a while since I’ve written a book review. Hell, it’s been a while since I’ve read a whole book, at least a fiction novel. Life has taken a lot of different turns, but it’s like riding a bike.  I don’t really want to say that, because I can’t really describe what it’s been like, but it sure as hell hasn’t been anything like a bike. Don’t get me wrong, I love my bike, and I love riding it, but reading and writing – well, that’s a whole different experience. I’ve just needed the right inspiration to get me back in the seat – and I found it in The Terminal List by Jack Carr.

I’m not going to give this review to you all at once, because I want to do it justice. I’m going to give it to you in pieces – today being the first.

I initially heard of Jack Carr on Jocko Willink’s podcast talking about his upcoming 2nd book, True Believer.
Dating a former Navy SEAL had sparked my interest in SEALs and that’s how I stumbled upon the podcast. I was familiar with Special Forces and Armed Forces, but I can honestly say I didn’t know much, if anything at all, about Navy SEALS. To be honest, I didn’t know much about the Navy period. I just thought they mostly rode in ships and submarines, perhaps deeming them the least active and least dangerous jobs in the military.  Well, my eyes have been opened, I was as wrong as one could get, and I’m in ‘shock and awe’, especially when it comes to Navy SEALs.  Holy smokes! These guys are badass!  I mean, they are the real deal, the real commandos, the real men of valor and honor that to me are superheroes made of steel.  If you’ve read of any my blogs over any period of time then you know I’m a huge superhero nerd.  For me, Army Ranger’s used to be my military heroes, but they don’t top my list anymore.

Getting back to the book, The Terminal List by Jack Carr.  Even though I had developed this GREAT love and admiration for SEALs, I feared this book. I honestly thought it would be somewhat regimental, just a bunch of facts, details, and plot points put to the page, however listening to the way Jocko Willink read an excerpt (by the way – that man and his deep, smooth voice can read ANYTHING of mine), I was intrigued.  Then listening to Jack Carr tell his story, I could tell this man knew how to tell a story, stay on point, keep his threads together, and then circle back around to tie all the loose ends in a nice little bow. That gave me a little bit more hope that he’d be able to do the same in his writing …and I was not wrong.

Spoilers from this point forward:

The Terminal List begins with our main character, Lieutenant Commander James Reece, on a mission that never felt right with him, and in his gut knew was wrong in more ways than one, knew it went against his instincts and every bit of training and experience he has had on the SEAL teams, yet he was given an order from a higher authority.  He was almost home, he was almost out, just one more to go, and so he followed command.

That aspect right there grabbed me, because I can’t tell you how many times I ignored that gut feeling only to regret it later. I’m learning more and more to listen to it and heed it’s warning, because it’s never been wrong. I could tell I was already invested in this story because inside I was screaming, “Don’t do it! Listen to your gut! This is going to be a shit show!” Of course, I then reminded myself I was reading a book and you can’t have a story without conflict, so I sighed and said, “Ah, hell …bring it on.” Carr did NOT disappoint.  He brought the action. He brought the terminal velocity of a shit storm that played on every fear I would imagine any SEAL team leader would have – losing his whole team because of a decision he made, and him the only one to survive.  Talk about Survivor’s Guilt. Talk about Ownership. I was almost in tears just trying to wrap my head around the concept, but Jack Carr let me feel those emotions, but not for too long before he went and slapped me upside the head and pierce my heart with a double-whammy. 

Listen, teammates on a SEAL team are closer than family, they are brothers in arms, in heart, and in soul.  This character just lost his brothers, his team, his career, and pretty much any self-respect that he had for himself, and he hasn’t even had time to grieve, to accept it when Carr then has his wife, daughter and unborn son murdered.  Okay, I’m almost tearing up writing this.  SEALs are made of steel, but they’re not made of stone.  SEALs are the baddest warriors on this planet and they severely protect what they love – their country, their teammates and their families.  This warrior failed to protect them all – h…h…h…h…o…o…o…l…l…l…y…y…y… shit! Talk about stripping EVERYTHING from a man, down to his naked soul, and humiliating him in every imaginable way – that’s what this means.  I’m beginning to suspect Jack Carr is one sadistic asshole by this point to even be able to imagine enough to write it down in detail, but I have to think these are probably a SEALs worst fears. 

That’s what makes this story so much more than your typical thriller, because Jack Carr isn’t just writing about a hero that he made up in his head, a fantasy. He is a SEAL.  He is the real deal, so though he’s writing in this fictional format, there is a lot of truth, a lot of experience, a lot of authentic feelings, fears, and actions to draw from; he bleeds onto the page.  He doesn’t have to imagine it – he knows it.  And I think THAT fact is what made it even more of a journey for me.

Continuing … Reece loses his Team, and now his family, and his career …but he doesn’t stop being the intelligent, resourceful, master of all trades operator he’s been for the last couple decades, and fueled by his pain he begins putting the pieces together and starts seeking the answers to the question of WHY this happened to him and who is responsible.  He starts gathering the names for his Terminal List.

So, being the narcissistic asshole that I am … I’m going to stop the first segment of this review right here.  You will have to come back tomorrow to see what happens next - or you can go buy this awesome book, The Terminal List by Jack Carr, and read it for yourself.

Till next time,
~T.L. Gray

Unforgivable

Is there really anything that is unforgiveable? Something so bad that we just can’t accept or pardon?  For me – YES.  There are definitely things, acts, decisions, and actions in this world that I will never be able to forgive, not even for myself if I did them.  Before you start throwing your judgment darts at me – let me remind you that I’m not God.  I am a human being, filled with both the capability and capacity to do good AND evil, to love and hate, to judge and forgive.However what does it really mean to forgive? What makes the things we do either good or evil? How are our actions and thoughts placed upon the morality scale?  Who made the scale? Is the scale the same for everybody else?This is the cause of many wars, mankind’s idea of what is right, wrong, moral, and divine.  It’s a battle of ego – who’s right and wrong, whose god is the real god, whose god is the false god, and of what is truth and what is defined as opinion.  For me, and I can only speak for me, we don’t really need those ‘written’ laws, decrees, commandments to know the difference between right and wrong.  We know it the moment we think or commit an act if it’s wrong or evil, and that’s when we start looking for excuses and loopholes to try and feel better about our decisions. Getting caught or being sorry has nothing to do with forgiveness.I have done evil. I have done thing in my life that when I did them, I knew it was wrong, not because someone told me, or a religion commanded and declared it so, but from this gut feeling, this sinking knowledge deep inside that let me know it was wrong.  I have acted in anger, jealousy, hurt, selfishness and pride – and cast my judgement on others for doing the same. There may have been reasons, but there is never any excuse. Am I unforgivable?  I can’t speak for others or for God, only for myself. It has taken me years to forgive myself for some of the things I’ve said or done, there are some other things I’m still working on making right. Not by saying, “I’m sorry.” No, by studying my true intentions, my true motives, my true desires and trying to understand and learn, to see the consequences of my choices, and how those choices affected others and the world around me. Did I learn something from them? I can’t even begin forming the idea of forgiveness until I understand and face the dirty, ugly truth of my actions.  Forgiveness isn’t a word, it’s a state of being. I can’t just give it to myself, I must step into the truth of it, and I can’t do that unless I first face my offenses, face my actions, face my consequences in TRUTH. Then … when I look upon myself, my true self, I have another choice …to love myself anyway – as the dirty, sinful, hateful, pathetic and weak being that I am – love myself anyway.  I am NOT talking about making an excuse – but really seeing the truth of me. THEN – and only then will forgiveness become available. Some of us have done so much for so long our souls no longer cry out and we no longer feel any shame or pain.  In essence we have lost our souls and are dead inside. Forgiveness is for the soul, so it’s not going to be available for the soulless.I’m sure we’ve all done things that we are not proud, that we are ashamed, that haunt our souls – for those of us who still have them. I’m sure we’ve all lost our minds sometime in moments of weakness, moments of pain, and moments of fear, leading us to do unspeakable things. Ignoring our truth doesn’t make them go away. Denying truth doesn’t make things in a state of have never happened.  Seek forgiveness and free your soul. All – not some of us, but ALL have fallen short of the glory of God.  The difference is who stays there and who rises. Don’t lose your soul. Don’t ignore your truth. Seek and find your forgiveness. Only YOU can do it.  Let stop worrying about what others have done – and look to ourselves. Till next time,~T.L. Gray

Hey, You!

Many people think of their youth and long for the carefree days of childhood adventures, coming of age lessons, friends, and family.  I didn’t have that typical childhood, so I missed a lot. However, what I did have I keep locked in my heart as a valued treasure.  I’m discovering that not all is lost – because at forty-eight I’m getting to experience some of those things I missed, but with a little bit more wisdom and knowledge.  I had to grow up too fast, and now I am finally at a point in my life I can be carefree.  Well, MOSTLY carefree. I do have to be responsible, pay my bills, go to work, etc.  Let’s not get lost there. I’m not in survival mode. I don’t need rescued and no one needs rescued.  My kids are grown and holding their own. I’m getting back to my life being about me.  These last several months have been hard, confusing, and scary, Oh, but Oh, so good.  Really good. My inner adventurer is getting to exercise her legs and revisiting all those hobbies I love so much, while my inner warrior is hitting the gym hard.  My inner nerd is fueling my brain. My inner writer is sharpening her pencils. My inner reader is smiling. My inner lover is feeling the music and getting out the candles.  Man, life is good. I had conversation with Scott the other day that keeps rolling around in my mind.  There’s many parts of me, many personalities, but not in a multiple personality kind of way, yet …exactly in that kind of way.  I really believe to be whole in body, mind and soul, to be complete, and to be healthy – we need to make sure we don’t neglect any of those many parts of ourselves. Combined they make me who I really am. I’m not going to show all of them to everyone, but I should know and love them all in balance.  I want Scott to know ALL of me, and come to love ALL of me. I want to love ALL parts of him. I think this is how God meant it to be, not just in our love and relationship with Him, but in how we relate to each other.  I find the most painful parts in my life were in retrospect due to my severe neglect to different parts of myself, even bringing me to one of point of hating myself and wanting to die. But as I began to fight for me, to heal all the broken pieces of me, began to see myself and love myself, that’s when true happiness entered my life.  True peace. True love. I don’t want to share a broken, defeated, sick, version of myself to someone else – they deserve my best. I deserve my best. So, I fight hard every day to be MY best. I look in that mirror, and say, “Hey, you … I love you today.”  I take that selfie and I share it, because I want to share a little love, a little happiness, a little joy, and a little light in such a cynical, dark, angry, and bitter world.  Call me self-centered, that’s okay. Because I am. I am completely centered on myself and it feels good. I have something beautiful to give and to share. So, if my vanity brightens one person’s day – mission accomplished. Till next time,~T.L. Gray

The Joy of Writing

I’ve read many of stories or books that start the title “The Joy of Writing,” but never really consigned myself to the concept.  Writing was anything but a joy. It was exciting, thrilling, frustrating, stressful, mind-blowing, and confusing and every other emotion on the spectrum from one extreme to the other. But, joy? Do we categorize breathing as a joy? Or how about urination or yawning, or sleeping?  Well, I can see where sleeping might sometimes be a joy.  But how can we categorize natural occurrences, something that so much a part of you and instinctual be considered a joy? Writing is part of who I am. Constructing a story is a part of my every day, every moment existence. I see the world as one long epic tale, and each major event it’s chapters, and each segment a paragraph, a sentence, or a word. Those moments are what makes up life and as a writer I am a recorder, a scribe, and an observer of life.  I don’t just write for fun, or therapy, or clarity, or need. I write because it’s who I am.  It’s like being a mother. While there are all the books out there in the world that tell us how to be a mother, I found out that being a mother is a natural thing, a instinctual thing.  My choice comes into play by deciding what type of mother to be – nurturing or neglectful, etc.  I am a writer and the only choice I have within this vocation is what kind of writer to be – and if you’ve followed me for any length of time you will find that I am a multiple-faceted writer – a writing diamond. I’ve dabbled in journalism, blogging, novels, novellas, epics,  punditry, op-eds, technical, business professional, auto-biographical, legal, free verse, poetry, screenplays, reviews, editorials, memes, short stories, flash fiction,  and songwriting lyrics. If I think about it, I’m sure I could add a few more in there – but I think you get the picture. Writing is just something I do. It’s natural.  Yet, writing isn’t without its own rules, standards and styles.  So, I have to learn them. Grammar, spelling and punctuation are just basic skills needed to be a writer, because after that comes tense, perspective, pacing, style, structure, threads, inciting scenes, prologues, forwards, and on and on and on.  These are skills developed over time and experience. So, how is writing a joy?  I suppose the joy of writing is the ability to do it, and love doing it in the first place. I do love writing. It’s a part of me that comes alive and thrives within me. I am a collector of stories, a re-teller of tales, a silver-tongue, a scribe, a keeper of legends. How can one not find joy in that? When we leave this world, all we leave behind is our story.  Who will read it or hear it unless it has been written? I don’t need a Sorcerer’s Stone to make me immortal – I just need to write. While my body will leave this place one day and turn to dust, my stories will remain until it is no longer retold or pages are lost. That’s one thing that makes me sad – the forgotten of those that were here before.  I sometimes walk graveyards and whisper to the headstones, “Hey, I see your name. You existed. You once were here and you once lived.” I know it’s probably crazy, but I don’t want to be forgotten. I don’t others to be forgotten. I don’t our history to be forgotten. I am an orphan and often feel forgotten in the world, so I write. Oh, the joy of writing.
Till next time,~T.L. Gray

On a New Road

I honestly never thought I’d be here – on this road that I’ve found myself meandering. I doubt often, keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, keep waiting for someone to tell me that I’m dreaming and none of this is for real that I’ve somehow made it all up in my head.  But that bad news never comes and I keep moving down this road. Is it love? Yes, love is involved, but it’s so much more than that, so much deeper than that concept. I can love, have loved the unlovable, have had unrequited love, have lost love, and I’ve had some pretty fucked up kind of love when it comes to family.  No, love isn’t the issue.  I have no question that I’m in love – I just question the kind of love I’m feeling – because it’s all of them. Honestly, for the second time in my life I don’t love ‘in spite of’ something, or for some circumstance. I don’t love out of obligation or passion or loneliness. Yes, we have passion, but we’re free. No, this love is deeper than passion because it instills peace and hope.  I don’t want to change anything about him or about us, yet being with him instills change in us both.  He doesn’t make me feel like I am not good enough, or pretty enough, or smart enough, or not badass enough, or from the wrong side of the tracks, or too good, too smart, too awkward – yet at the same time when I’m with him I feel beautiful, and smart, and badass, and more than enough, and silly, and safe.  It’s not in the words he says to me, because he doesn’t tell me senseless words – or colorful words to try and make me feel better. He doesn’t stroke my ego.  He often just tells me like it is, even if it’s something I don’t want to hear. Most of all, when I’m with him I feel safe, relaxed, and free to be me – all of me, the woman that doesn’t have to try so hard to always be perfect. I can be my silly self.  I talk his freakin’ ears off because I don’t feel inhibited in any way when I’m talking to him, or when I’m around him, nor do I feel judged. He knows my darkest secrets, my greatest fears, my worst flaws …and yet he stays and looks at me the same way he did when he had only heard the great things about me. He doesn’t try to change the way I feel, the way I believe, the way I look at the world. He doesn’t tell me I’m wrong or stupid when he disagrees with me. Oh, he’s not perfect – I see him too – and all his flaws and I still think he’s beautiful. I love looking in his eyes, because I see a deep soul – with lots of wounds, lots of scars, lots of wear and tear, a lot of character, and many dark stories – but beautiful nonetheless. I see a caring heart, a nurturing soul, a warrior. I believe he would die or kill to protect me, to keep me from harm without a second of hesitation or concern for himself.  Honestly, I’ve never felt that before. I’ve always felt I had to protect myself or do the protecting. How has that happened? Where did he come from? I wasn’t ready to meet him but I’m really glad I did. So, yeah – I’m in love and it scares the hell out of me. But if you know me – I face the things that scare me – and I’ll face this too.Till next time,~T.L. Gray