T.L. Gray's Blog, page 31

Melancholic Optimist

My emotions are all over the place today.  Perhaps it’s because my hormones are running rampant - my baby girl turned twenty, a budding relationship seems to have withered, I work all the time and it doesn’t seem I get anywhere, yet at the same time appreciated and admired for my abilities, talent, inspiration, and professionalism. I miss my kids like crazy. So many things have changed, yet some things still remain the same.  At the same time I’m excited and energetic this morning.  I had a GREAT workout, pushed myself a little further, a little harder (having gained over 2 lbs this week – I’m thinking because of the crepes), one of my writers are about to launch their first book, got a lot of editing done on another writer’s manuscript, my collaboration on my own current WIP is still going strong, and my prospects for the future are wide-open.

I suppose this emotional roller coaster has been coming on for the last few days.  It always happens when I’ve been with the “family”.  Friday night, I helped my daughter celebrate her upcoming 20th birthday with my ‘former’ family.  I’m beginning to hate those gatherings, because they remind me of what I left behind, what I left to pursue, and what I’ve not yet obtained.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret for one second my decision to leave, but there are some things my decision cost me that hurts me to the deepest part of my soul.  For a brief moment in time, I had my family back. Then as we all climbed in our cars and went our separate ways, I’m reminded I don’t have a family anymore.

My children love me and I will always have a relationship with them, and they will always be my family.  But when I decided to separate from my husband, I lost something that was very precious to me – all the rest of the family I had. Having been estranged from my parents and siblings, my husband’s family became mine.  So, when I left him, I lost them too.  Their lives continue on without me.  They still all gather together to celebrate every birthday, holiday, and special event.  I wasn’t invited to the last two – because they didn’t involve my children.  That’s okay, I know I’m not part of the family anymore, and that was my choice.  They have their Thursday night dinners and their Sunday brunches.  They’re there for each other, see each other almost on a daily basis, take vacations together, their lives keep moving forward, without skipping a beat, not falling apart without me, not even missing me for that matter.  I go home alone, eat alone, sleep alone, work out alone, vacation alone, go on my adventures alone, celebrate my victories alone, and mourn my failures alone.

I’m not feeling sorry for myself or even sad that I do everything alone. I’m actually growing fond of being alone.  It was new for me, having never been alone in my whole life.  It’s taken some getting used to, but I am, and there are lots of things about it that I’m learning to enjoy, especially the part where other people’s decisions no longer keep me from doing things I truly enjoy.  But, I’m angry that I haven’t reached many of the emotional goals I’ve set for myself.  I’ve accomplished a lot in these last few years – done some amazing things that I’m so proud for accomplishing.  I know, without any doubt, there’s nothing I can’t do.  It doesn’t matter what it is, I’ll find a way.  It’s those things that I can’t obtain by sheer determination and hard work that continue to allude me. Those things that depend on someone else.  Will I ever trust someone else again? I don’t know if I can.

I want what everyone wants – to matter, to be loved.  Being with my former family is a reminder that I didn’t matter.  I’m not needed, not wanted, and their lives continue on without me.  Even to my close friends I have now, who happen to all live in separate parts of the world very far away from me, I essentially don’t matter.  Should I disappear tomorrow, they may miss my drama, but their lives will continue on without missing a step, because I’m not an integral part of their world.  I couldn’t have made it these last couple of years without them, but they in turn have never needed me.  So, what happens when I don’t need them as much anymore?  Will they just disappear from my lives too? It’s what I feel happening all the time.  I hear from them less and less every day. That’s what I fear. Yet, at the same time, know that if they do – I will survive.

I had a friend ask me lately why I let people so easily walk out of my life, why I don’t fight to keep them in it?  It’s simple really.  Holding onto someone that doesn’t love you and want to stay in your life doesn’t help you – it only hurts worse.  The pain of losing someone breaks your heart, but it’s not as destructive as much as loving someone that doesn’t love you back.  That destroys your soul.  I’ve already had to restore my soul from death a few times before – I don’t want to do it again.

So, on this Monday morning filled with emotional madness, I smile, and I cry, and I breathe.  I tell myself it’ll get better.  I take a moment to be thankful for all that I have been given.  I wish my daughter a happy birthday and try to impart a few words of wisdom. I exercise.  I go to work, and I live one moment at a time – and I choose to live the best I know how.  It’s all I can do. Who knows what will happen in the next moment.

Till next time,

~The Melancholic Optimist

On the Road to MasterChef - Day 2

Well, my crepes turned out better than I could hope for.  After the third crepe hit the hot pan, I was learning to roll it round and produce a golden, paper-thin, delicious piece of art.  It wasn’t long before I had nearly 20 beautiful crepes from my first mix of batter.
I felt really overwhelmed, yet bubbled with excitement. Of course, having a plate full of delicious crepes, I needed something to go in them and on them.  I hadn’t got that far.  I had convinced myself I was going to spend a full weekend making crepes.  But, I found myself ahead of the game. 
I had some fresh raspberries, sugar, butter, and white wine… so I began to mix and stir, over a medium heat.  I worried it would be too tart or just not work, but when I dipped my spoon into that beautiful concoction and tasted it, my eyes nearly rolled back into my head it tasted so good.
But, by this point, I knew I still needed something else.  I had some baker’s chocolate and dropped a couple squares, butter, sugar, and a few tablespoons of water into a small pot, and within a few minutes I had a heavenly molten batch of chocolate. 
It was delicious.  I had to taste it a few times. 
Well, plating is something I’m going to have to practice a bit. For this turn, I decided to roll my crepes after filling them with cream cheese and raspberry glaze, then drizzled them with chocolate, more raspberry glaze, whipped cream and a fresh raspberry.  I thought my plate looked very, very, very yummy.
No good story can be told without a few tears. I cried when I had to toss the five crepes I plated. But couldn’t stop smiling when I brought in a handful to my co-workers.  They loved them, because they didn’t leave a single bite on their plates. I hope none of them are on any diets, because for the next few weeks, they’re going to become my taste testers.
It was a great first try.  I’m so looking forward to how things turn out in the end.
Till next time, ~Crepe Queen

On the Road to Masterchef - Day 1

As most of you know, or maybe you don’t know, but I have registered to audition for MasterChef Season 6.  My audition is scheduled for Saturday, September 27th in Atlanta.  Whatever possessed me to register?  All the blatant comments from several of my friends and Facebook followers about the pictures of the creative dishes I post.

I do not claim to be a chef of any kind.  I have just discovered the art of cooking and eating gourmet food a couple of years ago when I became single and had only to feed myself.  For the first time in my life I could cook what I wanted, how much I wanted, and it really made me stop and consider what I was eating and why.

I’ve went through a lot of changes these last few years.  Health and Fitness was moved from the artic zone in my life up to front and center.  I’ve tackled many bad habits, and one of them being what I cooked and ate on a regular basis.

You really are what you eat, and what I was eating was slowly killing me. In my existential journey of self-discovery and seeking meaning to my life, I started to love myself.  Loving myself meant loving my body.  I didn’t love my overweight, out-of-shape body. I detested it.  Mostly I detested that I ever let it get into that shape in the first place.  I can give you a million reasons, but none of them are really an excuse.  I didn’t love myself, and didn’t love my body.

Learning to love me, I had to first forgive myself for what I had done to my body.  That was NOT an easy thing to do.  Actually, it’s probably been the hardest thing I’ve ever done.  I’m a hardass… and forgiveness doesn’t come easy for me – especially of myself.  I’m very judgmental of myself.  I ALWAYS look to me first in criticism, discipline, and neglect.  Well, not anymore.

I’ve also learned to forgive food, to love food, to look at in a different light.  Food was never my enemy. I was my enemy.  I now look forward to dinner. It’s become an expression of art, flavor and skill for me.

Anyway, I have one of the sweetest, loveliest, and beautiful friends in the world, Sally Balsamo.  This woman has shown me so much love and support since I’ve met her last year on Scribophile, she blows me away, and reminds me of the beautiful, loving people in this world.  We don’t talk every day, don’t hang out, often stand on different sides in political and social debates, but I love her dearly and respect her to the moon and back.  If she ever needed me, I hope she knows she can always count on me.  She’s a friend for life.

Well, my friend, in her support of my insane decision to audition for MasterChef, she has put me in contact with two lovely chefs to help me plan a signature dish.  My audition has some obstacles, and I was at a loss what to make.  Had I access to a full kitchen and every kitchen appliance invented… no problem.   But as it is, there are lots of obstacles.  (I don’t want to give too much away too soon.)

My two new friends, Chef’s Cameron Lokey and Laura Gilbert,  whom I already love and adore, have given me a homework assignment – to practice making crepes.  I’ve never made a crepe in my life and have only eaten them once or twice.  I’m allergic to eggs and am lactose intolerant, so the fact they’re made with milk and eggs, they’re usually not on my menu.  But, I’m determined to become the best Crepe maker the world has ever seen… or at least the judges at MasterChef.

So, tonight I begin.  Tonight I will attempt to make my first crepe ever. Regardless of how bad it turns out, I will post a picture of my failure or success (there is no failure – just perhaps a defined way NOT to make a crepe) and keep you guys updated until my audition, so you can experience this journey with me.

Till next time,
~MasterChef in Training

Too Many Songs ...Livin' Out Loud

Have you ever had so much inside you that you couldn’t really zero in on that one particular thing, allowing all the others to fall by the wayside, to let that one out?  That’s the way it is for me this morning.  Instead of one song playing on a loop in my mind, there’s several playing at the same time.  I’m trying to pick one, but they’re all so good… I’m feeling every single one of them … at once.

“You got me goin’ ‘round, goin’ ‘round in circles. Yes you do, baby.  On and on, every time I see you I get nervous… whisper in my ear tonight, you know how to make me feel perfect.  Put your lips up next to mine, ‘cause you know just how to work it.  ‘Cause baby, you-u-u-u,  you make me feel alright, yes you do, baby. I want you take over… I want you to take over me …when the lights go down.” You - Nathaniel

“I’m a leader, I’m a winner, and I’m cleaner … ‘cause I’m awesome.  I don’t need you, ‘cause I’m neato, and I beat you … ‘cause I’m awesome.” Dollyrots – Because I’m Awesome

“Well, I’m not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you.  I want to make you move because you’re standing still.  If your body matches what your eyes can do, you’ll probably move right through me on my way to you.” Paralyzer – Finger Eleven

“To make you want me I can fabricate the truth.  I’ll give you easy, it’ll keep me destitute. You hang me up on the line, hang me out to dry, but you got nothing to lose. You’ve got the story all made up inside your head.  You write me out of it and use your words instead.  You hold me just out of reach, keep me pounding the beat, take all the shore you can give.  You want me to change – change – change.  You want me to change.  You want me to change – change – change. You want me to change.” Change – Churchill

“I need you, darling, come on set the tone.  If you feel me falling, won’t  you let me know.  Oh, oh, oh…wooohoo.  If you love me, come on get involved. Feel it rushing through you from head to toe.  Oh, oh, oh… wooohoo.  Sing! Louder! Sing!” Sing – Ed Sheeran

“Hold on.  Hold on. Don’t be scared. You’ll never change what’s been and gone.  May your smile, shine on. Don’t be scared. Your destiny may keep you warm.  ‘Cause all of the stars are fading away, just try not to worry, you’ll see them someday.  Just take what you need.  Now be on your way and stop crying your heart out.”  Stop Crying Your Heart Out – Oasis.

“Girl, I just want to get inside, just get inside your sexy mind. Oh, I just want to cross the line, the line, Baby.  Before it all goes crazy tonight, I just want to say, you’re beautiful, beautiful.  You’re rock-n-roll, rock-n-roll.  You’re beautiful, beautiful.   You’re beautiful. With you I lost all my control, the minute you walked in the door. But I’ve always got my eyes on the prize, the prize, Lady.  But before it all goes crazy tonight, I just want to say, you’re beautiful, beautiful.  You’re rock-n-roll, rock-n-roll.  You’re beautiful, beautiful. You’re beautiful.” – You’re Beautiful  - Nathaniel

“1-2-3-1-2-3-drink. 1-2-3-1-2-3- drink. 1-2-3-1-2-3-drink.  Throw ‘em back till all I know is gone .  I’m gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier.  I’m gonna live like tomorrow doesn’t exist, like it doesn’t exist.  I’m gonna fly like a bird for the night, feel my tears as they dry. I’m gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier. I’m just holding on for tonight.” Chandelier – Sia

“Hey, I want to get better. You know I was lonely till I saw your face. I want to get better, better, better, I want to get better. I want you to know I was broken till I wanted to change.  I want to get better, better, better, better. “ I Want to Get Better – Bleachers

“So I write, write, write all the things I didn’t miss.  And despite, despite, despite …my conclusion is – nobody wants you, nobody wants you, like I do.  So, I write all the reasons I could quit.  Change my mind, mind, mind …cause my conclusion is – nobody wants you, nobody wants you like I do.  Excuses, abuses, you use me up. My patience, can’t take it, I’ve had enough. It must be meant to be, when you wake up from your break up, now you see, it must be how you look when you woke up right here next to me.” Nobody Wants U – Dollyrots

“You don’t have to fall in line.  Life is such a crazy ride.  Live Louder. Uh.  Live Louder. Uh, Whoo.  Put your rules back on the shelf. Let your freak out, be yourself.  Live Louder. Uh. Live Louder. Yeah! Ow…  Get up and dance like you dance when there’s no one around. Sing your song the way you sing when  you’re in the shower.  Lose yourself, act the fool, redefine a new kind of cool.  Live Louder. Louder.  Don’t be careful, don’t think twice. Just let your heart speak it’s mind. One foot forward, make your move. No one does it quite like you. Live Louder. Let it go… let yourself go. “ Live Louder – Nathaniel





So, what the hell do I do with all that???  I’m shaking my head and laughing right now… but I’m going to end this post, get up, dance… and live a little louder.

Till next time,

~Livin’ Out Loud

Stay Beautiful

When my drill sergeant friend shouts to his privates their bodies are temples and they should respect and treat them with the utmost respect as he pushes them to become ‘all they can be’, I’m reminded of all the years I sat in the church pew and heard the same words.  “Do you not know your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit?  Honor God with your body.”

The emphasis of obedience was placed on clean living and service mostly centered on attitudes and actions refraining from those moral sins such as fornication, adultery, debauchery, gossip, etc.  Yet I was slowly killing myself.  I hated my temple.  I didn’t respect it.  I neglected it. I abused it.  We, the faithful, were to deny ourselves, to not think of our wants, that our lives were not our own, to take the focus off our selves and put it on our dedicated service.  So I sat in those pews week after week convinced I respected my body because I was righteous by keeping it pure and holy. I wasn’t having sex and spent ALL my spare time in duty, responsibility, prayer, church, or volunteer services, living a selfless life, fulfilling the needs of others. Feeling completely unloved, unwanted, and unworthy.  I could never do enough, be obedient enough, be faithful enough, and I literally ate my guilt and shame day after day, week after week.   I lied to myself a lot throughout my life.  I’m pretty sure I’m still lying to myself on some other issue I have yet to deal.

This is not a slap against the church or religion.  This was my own failure.  However, I do believe that MANY in the church should address the obesity and gluttony problem.  Our bodies are temples and the neglect of them is just as bad as if we neglected one of our children.  Yet, we attend Sunday pot lucks and eat out at restaurants and fast food so much, we put ourselves into a food comas, with huge smiles on our faces, neglecting regulation and the responsibilities to our bodies.  We’d never consider that sort of neglect equal to abuse.  I remember being in prayer once and heard the question in my mind, “Would you stand by and watch one of your children slowly kill themselves or would you do whatever it took to stop them?  Would you risk their anger to save their life? ”  My answer was an instant , “YES!”  Then the soft , yet million-pound question followed, “Why then do you neglect and slowly kill yourself?  You do realize you’re dying, right?  You do realize you’re neglecting and abusing yourself? Imagine how much you love your children, do you think God loves you even less?”

I had to face the truth that I was killing myself, that I was an abuser – not of others, but of myself.  I could have went one of two ways in that moment.  I could have allowed that guilt to push me further into the ground and finish me, or I could lift my head  and allow life to enter into my dead bones. There was a spark, a small ember of hope.  That hope was love.  I finally faced that mangled, ugly, dirty, neglected, angry, sad little girl inside me – and I embraced her and I dared to love her.  Loving her didn’t make everything okay.  In fact, it interrupted the life I had built for myself, and with a vengeance, I smashed down those walls.  Then I started to build a new temple… one of life, of health, of peace, and of love.  Just as I’d protect my children from those who would harm them, I too am learning to protect myself.  I love my temple.

Protecting myself is to protect my mind, body and soul.  I don’t go where temptation will pull me away or sabotage my goals.  I’ve learned to tell myself, “NO”.  I’ve learned to do whatever it takes to move forward, to push myself, to motivate myself, to train myself, and to protect myself.  Those who knew me a few years ago wouldn’t even recognize me today – physically, emotionally, or spiritually. To many of them, I’m a disappointment, a failure, a lost sheep among the wolves.  To me – I’m beautiful – and I’m not talking about my outside appearance.  I love that little girl, and she’s now healthy, strong, and positive …and I will do whatever it takes to keep her that way.

So, to the defeatist attitude, the one that made the millions of excuses not to diet and exercise and take care of my temple,  the one that used to rule, neglect, and abuse me in my old temple, I say, "I’m not that weak abused little girl anymore."  From the lyrics of my new favorite song… I also say, “Just look at me …I’m a leader. I’m a winner, and I’m cleaner, ‘cause I’m awesome. I don’t need you, ‘cause I’m neato, and I beat you, ‘cause I’m awesome. That’s right!”

Till next time,

Inner Badass

The Dance

We all change.  We are living beings that adapt to our surrounding and are constantly going through a metamorphosis, whether it be physical, emotional, or spiritual.  Those who know me, understand how I thrive in change, yet hate it at the same time.  While I’m my best in high-pressured situations, the pressure sometimes gets to me because it drains me, requires so much of me, that at the end of the day I’m spent – zombiefied.  Though I change and adapt to the circumstances and situations to keep moving forward in my life – there’s one thing about me that never changes – my honesty.

Inside all of us, I believe, live multiple personalities, parts of us that shine at different times depending on which personality is best for the job.  Things get really messed up for us when the wrong personality works at the wrong time in the wrong situation.  That’s understandable. We’re human, not perfect.  However, I’ve met some people over the years that really blown my mind because they become such totally different people than they were upon meeting,  and leave no sign or trace of the personality I often fell in love with.

What happened?  Where did that personality go?  I’m not talking about a simple change, I’m talking about a complete 180 to where this person isn’t even recognizable.  And what do I do?  I cling to this new personality in the hope that the one I fell in love with will return.  So far, that’s never happened.

I don’t get it. I don’t get why people can’t just be honest from DAY 1.  That’s really what it boils down to, that in the beginning of these relationship the other person was lying – to themselves and to me.  They were wearing their masks, pretending to be who they wanted, but then their true selves eventually came forward and their masks fell off.

You know that old adage, “If it’s too good to be true, it often is”?  Well, that’s definitely true and one of these days I’m going to get that, and I’m going to understand that, and I’m going to learn to let go of any hope the masks were real.  The masks are not real.  I understand wearing masks, I was a pro at it.  But, I also understand the freedom of being able to lay those masks down and just be who you really are – exposing your heart, your fears, and your weaknesses.  This is what makes humanity so beautiful.

I am who I am.  Who you meet on the first day is who I am on day 20, on day 100, on day 365, and so on.  While I may change and adapt, merge and morph, I’m always honest, even when I’m wrong, confused, and angry.  I don’t wear a mask anymore.  Go back and read through these blogs and you’ll see I have exposed myself in the most intimate way possible – and that is the woman I am.

No matter how dazzling and sparkling your mask may be, I cannot love your mask.  I deserve more than the fantasy, more than the pretention, more than the dazzling show.  I deserve the hidden heart, not the song and dance.  There are plenty of other dancers in the room of life – many of them have extravagant masks – perhaps they’re more to your liking.

I stand maskless – baring my soul for all to see.  If you can’t remove your mask – bow out now and keep dancing.  

Till next time,

Maskless

Precious

I love to cook.  I love the taste, the smell, and the texture of food.  I used to hate it because of how I abused it and used it to try and fill an emptiness inside me.  Food never worked.  That hole remained, but I had this huge body that I tried to use to also fill that emptiness, at the same time as a barrier to keep others out.  I couldn’t be filled, but I did succeed at keeping people out.

In truth, I checked out.  I checked out of my life and spent most of my time fulfilling the needs, wants, and demands of others, while hiding within myself.  I narrowed my world as my body expanded.  I snacked on everything I could find and sabotaged any diet I had tried.  Not purposefully, but subconsciously.  I was too much of a coward to quickly kill myself, so I was doing it slowly.

On the outside, people wouldn’t know about the pain and shame I carried.  I really needed help, but having been a survivor I learned to wear my mask so well, no one could see I needed help – I couldn’t even see it.  I remember that it was a daily thought to just drive into a tree, off a bridge, into oncoming traffic – just to make it all stop.  The daily rejection.  I felt like I let my children down, myself down, my church down, God down.  I could never do enough, be enough, I was disappointment – so I pushed harder and harder.  I worked and worked and worked – became excellent in my profession, a leader in my church, a cheerleader to my children. I searched for that love and acceptance from others (husband, church, children, family, friends) so I could love myself.  It doesn’t work that way.

We are fools to believe success, money, titles, or even love and affection and acceptance from other people will make us happy, make us love ourselves – and then expect that love to make us better.  NONE of it will satisfy, just like that food.  It may appease for a moment, but just as soon as the digestion process starts, the hunger pains return.  It’s a destructive cycle.

Oh, how far I’ve come in the last few years.  I’m not even the same person – literally half the size, but THAT isn’t my greatest accomplishment.  My journey started with a suicidal thought.  I was so ashamed.  One of my children had run away from home and I had nightmares worrying for her safety, her well-being not knowing if she was dead or alive.  I felt like such a failure as a parent.  I had done all the right things, followed all the rules, said my prayers, but none of it mattered.  No matter what I did – I couldn’t stop the bad things from happening.  I thought the abuse I had suffered as a child was horrible, but it didn’t compare to being a parent worrying over a child and feeling you had failed them, and failed God.  I was certain these things happened because I wasn’t good enough, didn’t pray good enough, didn’t obey enough, didn’t please my husband enough, so I just wanted to die.

I had a dream I was standing on a stage and it was dark, but I could hear the sound of many voices and knew there was a vast audience.  I stood beneath a single spotlight with my head down, because the light hurt my eyes.  I heard a voice call my name and tell me to lift my head, but I said I too ashamed. I didn’t want the people to see me.  Again the voice called my name and told me to lift my head.  

The voice in the darkness that filled the room, spoke softly, but loudly in front of the vast audience and said, “You are precious.”  Just those simple words felt so heavy, so alien.  I shook my head vigorously and cried, “No, I’m nobody.” Again the voice said, “You are precious.  I have put my words into your mouth and have written them into the palm of your hands.” I fell to my knees and cried out, “No, I’m not worthy. I’m nobody. Nobody wants me.” The house lights came up and all I could see was a sea of people and they were cheering for me.  I turned and a man stood beside me and I asked him, “I don’t understand.” He answered me.  “You are precious.  Open your eyes and see.  Open your ears and hear.”

I looked down at my hands and they were the hands of a dead and rotting person, but the flesh started to change, became healthy and younger looking.  My body slimmed, I become stronger, my hair became longer and I felt beautiful, vibrant, full of life.  The room filled with music and golden words, thousands upon thousands of them, swirled in the air.

I’d like to say I woke from that dream with a new lease on life and a new revelation, but I didn’t.  It only confused me, but one thing did change.  Not very noticeable at first – but looking back I can see now they were the beginning steps.  I did a teaching on how people treated you when you presented yourself in a different way – by me wearing a tiara everywhere I went.  The next teaching was about women who were unloved by their husbands.  Then I did a teaching on loving yourself.  These three teachings changed my life.  Because that’s exactly what I started doing – I started loving myself, recognizing who I was and what I wanted in life and in a partner, and how I saw myself.

It’s been a VERY, very long road, but I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m not going to say it’s been filled with one GREAT triumph after the next.  On the contrary… it’s been scary as hell and filled with so much uncertainty and whole lot of loneliness.   I’m not done with this journey – I’ve really only just begun.  But for the first time in my whole life, I’m happy.  I love me. I love my life. I love my body.  I love my mind. I love my heart.  I’m precious.  I know that someday someone else is going to love me – but I don’t need them.  If I ever let someone in, it will be because I simply want them.

I also have learned to love food.  Food is not my enemy - I was my enemy.  I’ve learned to moderate, to cook well, to have fun, and enjoy my food.  The picture with the blog post shows I’ve turned cooking into an art and eating into a pleasure.  I’m healthy. I’m strong. I’m beautiful.  Somehow I’ve transformed into that woman I saw in my dreams a few years ago.  I’m so proud of her and I love her dearly.  She’s precious.

Till next time,
Precious

No Punchline - Jeff Suwak

I don't often recommend stories, but I became a huge fan of this author last year when he started sharing his short stories for me to critic. Sometimes you just come across a writer that does more than tantilize your mind, but moves your soul.  Suwak does that for me in a similar way that Patrick Rothfuss, Mark Lawrence, J.K. Rowling and Anthony Ryan move me, or touch my soul the way Jack Kerouac does.



No Punchline: Or, the Night Chale Thayer Blew His Head Off at the Punch Drunk Comedy Club   is one of those such stories and I can recommend it more.

If you've been reading my blogs for any period of time,  you know how I look at the world, you know I see things with a deeper perspective, often touching on the emotional nerve that is connected to the heart of a story.  This story will deliver.  

Rational Debate

In light of the recent news reports, political pundits, protest riots, looting, and argumentative angst on both sides of the issue concerning the fatal shooting in Ferguson, I’ve tried to remain quiet and not respond emotionally.  I’ve listened to the various arguments and have tried to see things from all perspectives. I have to say I don’t get most of them – on either side of the issue.  I’m so sick of all the race baiting and bashing in this world. We are human beings – all of us, yet we sometimes act worse than the most rabid of animals.


I’ve been so frustrated without realizing why I’ve been frustrated.  I believe it’s due to the fact I’ve been unable to verbally express what’s been rolling around inside my mind and heart, because honestly I felt like it didn’t matter anyway and there was really no one that I could share my true thoughts and feelings.  Not because I don’t have anyone to listen, but I feel there are very few who CAN listen – hear me without bias, without prejudice, without judgment, without a PC or anti-PC or victim’s mentality who would try and stuff me into one of their preconceived boxes.  I’ll either be labeled a racist or fascist – instead of a rationalist. 


There really isn’t such a thing as a rational debate anymore – there’s a contest to see who can shout the loudest, who can incite the more powerful emotional response, and who is right or wrong.  It’s not about the issues anymore – because everyone is now a victim, everyone is now more concerned with being heard and being right than being reasonable.   I honestly gave up the hope of hearing or witnessing a rational debate until a friend of mine shared his frustrations with me this morning.  I feel honored and privileged he shared his wise thoughts with me – because he words freed me.  He was able to verbalize what I could only feel for so long. 
“Claiming victory over a debate is wrong on so many levels.  There are no winners or losers.  It’s an exchange of ideas.  That’s the bottom line.” ~ Sergeant T. Emilio Solano “If we’re going to outrage about something, it should never be one-sided.  We should focus on the act and the bottom line, not the reasons.  Murder is murder.  If a black guy shoots a white guy or vice versa, it should not matter to the level of outrage.  It’s a man killing a man.”


I couldn’t agree more. I honestly feel that when we focus on the race of the victim or perpetrator that is the moment we dismiss the humanity and all rationalization.  Responses from that moment forward become not about the crime/act, but about the skin.
Sergeant Solano continues, “Why are we so infatuated with the reasons?  Does it really matter?  A crime was committed.  Harm was done.  Does it matter who or why?  Reason should only matter on self-defense cases.  That’s it.  A community of poor uneducated people (the majority are) should not care if a white cop shoots a black dude.  Do we revolt when a black man shoots a white man in a trailer park?  I’m tired when any minority cries out about how bad they have it, or how underprivileged they are.  If you want to succeed - go to school and make a better life for yourself.”
Again, I couldn’t agree more.  My friend is a great example.  He is man of mixed races, born in the Dominican Republic and not of privilege, yet has worked hard to make something of himself.  He doesn’t drink, doesn’t do drugs, and takes pride in all he sets himself to do – working with excellent ethics for nearly 15 years in the Army. He's been in combat, is a leader, a teacher, a role model, and my admiration and respect for him is intangible. The way his subordinates respect him is not something given or granted, but earned.   It’s also something very lacking in pop culture today. 

I made the response to him, “We live in a PC world where everyone is a victim.  You’re of a different mindset.  You see individuality and personal responsibility, and that, my friend, puts you into another minority.”
He responded, “In nature, victims get eaten.  In humanity, those who want to play the victim and not strive to change should be purged. We don’t need their sorryness (I know… it’s not a real word) around the rest of us who strive every day.  Nobody really cares if you’ve been oppressed, enslaved, or abused.  Grow up, become stronger, educate yourself, and work hard.  We all have the same opportunities.  Nobody cares about your sorrows.” 

If we all look into our own closets, we ALL have been victimized in some way.  We have ALL felt and experienced some form of oppression, enslavement, or abuse.  EVERY ONE of us (black, white, rich, poor and every box we’ve created between).  These experiences all lend to reasons for how we react, but they’re not excuses.  There are really no excuses for repaying one bad deed with another.  Our response is truly what separates victims from survivors - from those who fail and those who overcome.
Let’s be human beings, love one another as humans, and care for one another as humans.  Let us examine all things with rational debate – remove the race, the hate, the prejudice, the boxes, and the victimization.  Let’s talk to each other, not at each other. 
I love and admire my friend very much.  He’s not bad to look at either, but it’s his mind for rational debate that makes him truly beautiful.
Till next time~T.L. Gray

Success

Everyone has their definition of what success means to them.  Well, being that I’m of the strange persuasion and have a mind that lives in the outer regions of ordinary, my definition and understanding of success changes as I change.  Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?  Aren’t there different levels?   Whose levels are we trying to reach?  Who are we really trying to impress? I’d like to know my monster’s name, so I can beat the shit out of him and bring him down to a reasonable state.  However, I’m not a reasonable person – so that’s a moot point.

I used to dream big.  Oh, what the hell am I talking about, I still dream big.  I can’t help it – I’m a big dreamer.  I never do the expected, or expect the ordinary.  It’s just not how I’m wired.  I’m not saying my wiring isn’t all messed up and tangled, but it’s just how I’m connected.  Acceptance is the first step. I don’t know exactly to where – but it’s the first step.  Accept me as I am and we’ll get along.  Expect me to live up to your standards or your level of success and I guarantee I’m going to disappoint you – so save yourself some time and get disappointed now,  and don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.  Better yet, let that damned door slam into you, and let the knob connect in your most sensitive areas. Hopefully it’ll knock you on your face as you trip on your way out. (I haven’t had my coffee yet, but it’s percolating as I type.)

Anyway, back to the topic at hand – success.  I had an interesting conversation with one of the most talented writers I have had the privilege to meet and befriend in my life last night.  I’m not going to sit here and gloat about his talent or bloat his ego; I’ve been there and done that, and he doesn’t hear a word of it.  No matter what I tell him, it doesn’t change the way he views success.  I also find it so hard to encourage him when I feel almost exactly the same way he does – but listening to someone else speak the same things I’m thinking helps me to see where I’m looking at a situation the wrong way.  Hearing my words coming out of his mouth, changed my focus.

I used to hear people in church say all the time, “If God never does anything else for me, I’ll still love and serve him for what he’s already done.”  That’s a good sentiment, but it’s bullshit.  We’re human beings, we’re not gods.  I’m not Jesus, I wasn’t sent to save the world, and I most certainly would have failed had our missions been the same.  I’m a human being, full of conflict, confusion, and corruption.  As a human, I need a constant receipt of acknowledgment that what I’m doing is good, that it’s right, that it leads somewhere.  If not, I feel like I’m just wafting through time, taking up space, and using up oxygen better spent elsewhere. I have to feel like I’m contributing to society, that what I’m doing is making a difference, that I simply fucking matter.  Bottom line – I need to experience success.  To say that I would be grateful or thankful for things to never move forward is being ignorant and naïve.

The question is …what constitutes as success for ME?  Your level of achievement may not be a level deemed successful for me and vice versa.  Where I think we really get off track is when we try to apply someone else’s level or measure of success to our own lives.  Either we think more highly of ourselves because we’ve compared ourselves to a very low level and we seem much more than what we are – or the opposite and choose too high of a level where we always feel like a failure and we don’t measure up. (ding, ding, ding)

I’m a perfectionist, and so is my friend, and I have a feeling we both set our levels of acceptable success way too high.  However, when I look at him, his life, and his gift, I can’t help but admire him and see loads of success all around him.  His gift, his integrity, his bravery, his compassion – those successes make him a great man, make him beautiful in my eyes. The way he sees the world – blows my mind. Many times he’s told me how proud he was of some of the things I have achieved in my life, goals I’ve met, obstacles I’ve overcome.  It never fails that he is always there to remind me of some of those things when I feel at my lowest or most unsuccessful.

I don’t see him as a failure, and when I talk to him, I don’t see myself as one either.  That, in and of itself, is a success.  My hope is that every dream  he has not only comes true, but exceeds his wildest expectations.  My wish for him is that he receives more success than he knows what to do with.  My desire for him is that he could see the success he already is by being a wonderful man and friend.

What is your measure of success?  Does your perception of success need an adjustment? Mine does on a daily basis.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray