Joyce M. Stacks's Blog: A Day In The Life of an Aspiring Author ....., page 4
June 10, 2014
Relationship Secrets .... Successfully Avoiding His Withdrawal
Typically most intimate relationships that manage to last any length of time will peak at some point while you’re still spending a considerable amount of time together in an effort to get to know each another. Everything still feels all shiny and new as life seems to be presenting endless opportunities for dynamic discovery. Over time you’ve developed a meaningful physical and emotional connection wherein both partners seem completely in synch and at ease with one another, but then it happens ….. just when everything should be right with your world, as a woman you begin to start thinking about commitment, only here’s where things start to go terribly wrong.
Determined to be one of the so-called ‘cool girls’ who exudes self-confidence, refuses to act clingy or exhibit any visible signs of needy behavior, you decide to allow your relationship to continue navigating on auto-pilot while beginning to ask yourself the same questions you should be asking out loud. Does he really care as deeply for me as I do him, or am I just fooling myself into believing an ‘ideal’ that doesn’t really exist? Has he failed to move us forward because he’s lost confidence in us as a couple? And the worst question of all ….. have all of my efforts been reduced to an enormous ‘waste of time’ due to the fact he’s incapable of any kind of real commitment?
Once this occurs, interactions between you become more strained and difficult over time as you place your partner and your relationship as a whole underneath the watchful gaze of a life-sized microscope designed to determine the validity of your connection. Any man who assumes women aren't analytical creatures, hasn’t met a woman in love, as she will – almost inevitably – at some point begin to dissect and subsequently label every conceivable action and nuance until she thinks she has a firm grasp on exactly where things are headed.
In the meantime, your partner has managed to pick up on all of your queues – overt and subtle – from the fact that you’re acting suspect of his every motive and movement as if ‘something’s up’ and that what was once casual and fun – almost effortless time spent together – has morphed into more of a challenge to try and figure out how to make you ‘happy’. In addition, he begins to feel like you’re just not as ‘into him’ as you once were, but you’re reluctant to move on because you don’t want to feel alone. As a result – due to a built-in defense mechanism – he begins to pull away, sensing the need to protect his own pride and feelings for fear of being hurt.
Therefore, he doesn’t pay as much attention to you as he once did. He’s working more hours than usual and complaining about fatigue as opposed to rallying his remaining energy at the end of his work day to spend time with you. His calls become less frequent and intimacy diminishes. Now – with good reason to become completely paranoid – you begin to convince yourself he must be seeing someone else.
As a result, the next ‘logical’ step is to do the very thing you’ve resisted doing up to this point in time ….. it’s finally time for the ‘talk’ but rather than initiate a compassionate conversation designed to get at the heart of the matter, you go off with both guns blazing, absolutely certain that he’s somehow done you wrong. Thus all the fears and frustrations you’ve held inside all this time, thus allowing them to fester and grow, manifest in the form of a crazy woman who’s completely caught her man off guard. He gets defensive ….. perhaps even dares to utter those dreaded words no woman wants to hear, “You’re acting insane!” And it’s all downhill from there.
Now for the sake of argument let’s reconsider the differences between women and men and how that translates into our relationships. While men need to come to terms with the fact that the moment most women experience intimacy, wheels inside their heads naturally begin to turn in the direction of commitment and exclusivity, on the other hand, women need to understand that not all men necessarily will feel the same. They are capable of enjoying your company while spending a considerable amount of time together without necessarily feeling as if there are any strings attached whatsoever. ‘Casual and fun’ implies just that ….. not serious. Consequently, for women to get what they want out of a relationship they have to first be willing to reveal their vulnerability by communicating to a man exactly what her needs, wants and desires for this relationship happen to be, even if doing so means running the risk of losing him. As potentially painful as that may sound, it is the lesser of two evils when it comes to further investing your time and energy into something that can only be considered a losing proposition.
When it comes to intimate relationships, we all tend to be a little too egocentric. It’s only natural to want to make certain your physical, emotional and spiritual needs are being met at all times, but it’s almost life-affirming when you manage to shift focus from the purely selfish act of receiving solely for the sake of self, to becoming willing to give of yourself for the sake of first meeting his needs. In order to do this you must attempt to view the same situation from his perspective in order to try and decipher his emotional state, his ability and willingness to communicate what’s on the inside and where he’s coming from when he fails to understand you. When you manage to do this, you’re letting him know your concerns extend to how you’re relating as a couple, which manages to fold into the conversation his needs as well as your own, thereby serving to bring you together versus breaking you apart.
Let’s face it …. men – for the most part – are just not as comfortable confronting heavy, emotional issues as we women, therefore the onus falls upon us if we are to make manifest the kind of loving and supportive relationship we all fantasize about having for ourselves. However, if a man truly loves a woman, then he’s anxious to please her. Therefore, once approached from out of a place of genuine concern for the both of you, he will no doubt at least make an effort to hear you and contribute to the discussion.
Speaking only for myself, I’ve learned the hard way that when my thinking remains unchecked for too long a time, allowing my imagination to run rampant as if spreading destruction at the same devastating rate as an arson-set forest fire bolstered by the Santa Anna winds, it’s beneficial for me to plan a quick ‘mental retreat’ wherein I devote time and reflection into developing avenues for more positive thinking. Pass times like meditation and communing with nature serve to quiet my mind and enable me to release the negativity that has managed to seep into my thought processes over the course of time. I simply inform my partner I need to impose a much needed time-out to do some work on myself, and he knows I’ll return when it’s time. It’s wonderful how maturity can work to your benefit once you begin to utilize the lessons you’ve learned over time. Then when I return I’m ready not only to own my feelings but to discuss them in a manner designed to expand both our consciousness while respecting the integrity of what we have together. It’s taken a long time, but I’ve finally come to understand it’s not necessary to suffer within the confines of a relationship in order to grow within it, because the tools for real growth already exist within each of us. All we have to do is ‘open the tool box’.
Determined to be one of the so-called ‘cool girls’ who exudes self-confidence, refuses to act clingy or exhibit any visible signs of needy behavior, you decide to allow your relationship to continue navigating on auto-pilot while beginning to ask yourself the same questions you should be asking out loud. Does he really care as deeply for me as I do him, or am I just fooling myself into believing an ‘ideal’ that doesn’t really exist? Has he failed to move us forward because he’s lost confidence in us as a couple? And the worst question of all ….. have all of my efforts been reduced to an enormous ‘waste of time’ due to the fact he’s incapable of any kind of real commitment?
Once this occurs, interactions between you become more strained and difficult over time as you place your partner and your relationship as a whole underneath the watchful gaze of a life-sized microscope designed to determine the validity of your connection. Any man who assumes women aren't analytical creatures, hasn’t met a woman in love, as she will – almost inevitably – at some point begin to dissect and subsequently label every conceivable action and nuance until she thinks she has a firm grasp on exactly where things are headed.
In the meantime, your partner has managed to pick up on all of your queues – overt and subtle – from the fact that you’re acting suspect of his every motive and movement as if ‘something’s up’ and that what was once casual and fun – almost effortless time spent together – has morphed into more of a challenge to try and figure out how to make you ‘happy’. In addition, he begins to feel like you’re just not as ‘into him’ as you once were, but you’re reluctant to move on because you don’t want to feel alone. As a result – due to a built-in defense mechanism – he begins to pull away, sensing the need to protect his own pride and feelings for fear of being hurt.
Therefore, he doesn’t pay as much attention to you as he once did. He’s working more hours than usual and complaining about fatigue as opposed to rallying his remaining energy at the end of his work day to spend time with you. His calls become less frequent and intimacy diminishes. Now – with good reason to become completely paranoid – you begin to convince yourself he must be seeing someone else.
As a result, the next ‘logical’ step is to do the very thing you’ve resisted doing up to this point in time ….. it’s finally time for the ‘talk’ but rather than initiate a compassionate conversation designed to get at the heart of the matter, you go off with both guns blazing, absolutely certain that he’s somehow done you wrong. Thus all the fears and frustrations you’ve held inside all this time, thus allowing them to fester and grow, manifest in the form of a crazy woman who’s completely caught her man off guard. He gets defensive ….. perhaps even dares to utter those dreaded words no woman wants to hear, “You’re acting insane!” And it’s all downhill from there.
Now for the sake of argument let’s reconsider the differences between women and men and how that translates into our relationships. While men need to come to terms with the fact that the moment most women experience intimacy, wheels inside their heads naturally begin to turn in the direction of commitment and exclusivity, on the other hand, women need to understand that not all men necessarily will feel the same. They are capable of enjoying your company while spending a considerable amount of time together without necessarily feeling as if there are any strings attached whatsoever. ‘Casual and fun’ implies just that ….. not serious. Consequently, for women to get what they want out of a relationship they have to first be willing to reveal their vulnerability by communicating to a man exactly what her needs, wants and desires for this relationship happen to be, even if doing so means running the risk of losing him. As potentially painful as that may sound, it is the lesser of two evils when it comes to further investing your time and energy into something that can only be considered a losing proposition.
When it comes to intimate relationships, we all tend to be a little too egocentric. It’s only natural to want to make certain your physical, emotional and spiritual needs are being met at all times, but it’s almost life-affirming when you manage to shift focus from the purely selfish act of receiving solely for the sake of self, to becoming willing to give of yourself for the sake of first meeting his needs. In order to do this you must attempt to view the same situation from his perspective in order to try and decipher his emotional state, his ability and willingness to communicate what’s on the inside and where he’s coming from when he fails to understand you. When you manage to do this, you’re letting him know your concerns extend to how you’re relating as a couple, which manages to fold into the conversation his needs as well as your own, thereby serving to bring you together versus breaking you apart.
Let’s face it …. men – for the most part – are just not as comfortable confronting heavy, emotional issues as we women, therefore the onus falls upon us if we are to make manifest the kind of loving and supportive relationship we all fantasize about having for ourselves. However, if a man truly loves a woman, then he’s anxious to please her. Therefore, once approached from out of a place of genuine concern for the both of you, he will no doubt at least make an effort to hear you and contribute to the discussion.
Speaking only for myself, I’ve learned the hard way that when my thinking remains unchecked for too long a time, allowing my imagination to run rampant as if spreading destruction at the same devastating rate as an arson-set forest fire bolstered by the Santa Anna winds, it’s beneficial for me to plan a quick ‘mental retreat’ wherein I devote time and reflection into developing avenues for more positive thinking. Pass times like meditation and communing with nature serve to quiet my mind and enable me to release the negativity that has managed to seep into my thought processes over the course of time. I simply inform my partner I need to impose a much needed time-out to do some work on myself, and he knows I’ll return when it’s time. It’s wonderful how maturity can work to your benefit once you begin to utilize the lessons you’ve learned over time. Then when I return I’m ready not only to own my feelings but to discuss them in a manner designed to expand both our consciousness while respecting the integrity of what we have together. It’s taken a long time, but I’ve finally come to understand it’s not necessary to suffer within the confines of a relationship in order to grow within it, because the tools for real growth already exist within each of us. All we have to do is ‘open the tool box’.
June 8, 2014
Relationship Secrets ..... Moments
In America it’s popular to ‘define’ or label most everything …. from your political persuasion to your religious affiliation, whether you’re heterosexual or homosexual, conservative or liberal, white collar or blue collar. We’re so busy trying to categorize everyone and how each person fits into every possible situation, that when something strikes us as ‘out of the norm’ we naturally become suspect. Somewhere along the way, we managed to forget the lessons taught in books like “I’m OK You’re OK” or even M. Scott Peck’s “The Road Less Traveled” wherein we learn that spiritual growth can only be achieved through celebrating our individuality and staying true to ourselves.
This same sort of rational has even managed to poison our most intimate relationships, thereby causing us to size up and rate potential partners according to an unpublished grading system that hardly even matters in reality. What a man drives or even what he does for a living is no measure of how big his heart will prove to be one day when you need it the most or whether or not he will be able to accept your particular brand of ‘crazy’ because us ladies all know we can go there. A beautiful body on a man or a woman is something to behold and admire – even appreciate – but bodies inevitably change over time, and even the best body is incapable of sustaining a relationship for the long haul, because eventually you have to have a conversation.
What a man should be trying to decipher over time spent in the company of any woman is whether or not she will understand what drives you and appreciate the time and integrity you devote to those endeavors. Will she grasp what weighs you down at times without having to badger you into submission, and will she understand that sometimes the only solace you can find will come through self-imposed distance and quiet time spent alone with your thoughts …. that as a man you will not always feel the same need she does to ‘talk everything out’ in order to come to an understanding, and that sometimes your seeming ‘lack of sensitivity’ will be due to the fact you’re not a mind reader and thus have no idea where she’s coming from when she cops an attitude. But most of all will she be loyal, honest and trustworthy, a keeper of your dreams and a defender of your name? Will she be supportive and kind and always respect you as a man, because these are the qualities that will not only make her physically attractive, but emotionally attractive as well. These are the virtues that will make her feel irreplaceable to you and set her apart from all others you’ve ever known or loved before.
What a woman should be asking herself about any man is will he respect me as a woman, because to be a woman means I am emotionally driven and sometimes those emotions may or may not make sense to him – and when they don’t – will he judge me or call me crazy in the face of controversy? Will he encourage your independence while comprehending that you still need him to be strong for you? Will he respect that even though he may be the primary breadwinner that your opinions still matter and your contributions make you equals?Will he understand that between work, running a household, raising children and taking care of family members, that life can pull you in a hundred different directions on any given day, and because of this your patience can run thin and your energy level extinct, but that the careful delivery of a few kind words within this same situation can work magic, thereby turning the whole situation around? Will he be your protector – defending you to others – even placing himself between you and those who might seek to harm you with their words? Will he continue to stand by you even when it feels as if the rest of the world has deserted you, because if so, then you have found a champion among men, someone who sees not only your external beauty, but the goddess that exist within.
Relationships are not defined by the words we choose to describe them, but by a series of moments we weave together into an intricate tapestry that is uniquely our own. Some of those moments will be clouded in mystery and misunderstanding, while others will speak with a clarity that defies explanation. I’d like to think the most beautiful aspects of this particular work of art occur in those ‘defining moments’ when two people join together as ‘one’ sharing the same breath and mindset, goals and dreams, laughter and even sorrow, as they support one another through the worst of times. Moments that tell us we’re ‘in love’ or that the life I knew before this individual came along no longer matters, or even that painful moment when we fear we’re on the brink of losing someone when we suddenly realize the thought of a life without him or her is inconceivable, all serve to bridge the distance between our hearts and our heads in a way nothing else can. I recently heard it said that, “Life is not about staring at each other, but staring in the same direction,” and if that is true, then it doesn’t matter how alike or different two people are, but more importantly that they want the same things.
Any mariner will confirm a vessel travels much swifter through the water when its sailor’s row in the same direction and such is true with relationships. They can only continue to grow when two people are working for the same things, enjoying life’s victories and suffering life’s defeats together, as one. Too many couples waste far too much time at odds with each other, keeping secrets and pursuing individual goals until the infrastructure of their relationship erodes to the point it eventually crumbles away. Then as they sit across from each other in divorce court, they realize they don’t even know one another and wonder to themselves if they ever did. Therefore, before this happens, I suggest you pay attention to all the moments – from the very beginning – because they alone will tell you everything you need to know.
This same sort of rational has even managed to poison our most intimate relationships, thereby causing us to size up and rate potential partners according to an unpublished grading system that hardly even matters in reality. What a man drives or even what he does for a living is no measure of how big his heart will prove to be one day when you need it the most or whether or not he will be able to accept your particular brand of ‘crazy’ because us ladies all know we can go there. A beautiful body on a man or a woman is something to behold and admire – even appreciate – but bodies inevitably change over time, and even the best body is incapable of sustaining a relationship for the long haul, because eventually you have to have a conversation.
What a man should be trying to decipher over time spent in the company of any woman is whether or not she will understand what drives you and appreciate the time and integrity you devote to those endeavors. Will she grasp what weighs you down at times without having to badger you into submission, and will she understand that sometimes the only solace you can find will come through self-imposed distance and quiet time spent alone with your thoughts …. that as a man you will not always feel the same need she does to ‘talk everything out’ in order to come to an understanding, and that sometimes your seeming ‘lack of sensitivity’ will be due to the fact you’re not a mind reader and thus have no idea where she’s coming from when she cops an attitude. But most of all will she be loyal, honest and trustworthy, a keeper of your dreams and a defender of your name? Will she be supportive and kind and always respect you as a man, because these are the qualities that will not only make her physically attractive, but emotionally attractive as well. These are the virtues that will make her feel irreplaceable to you and set her apart from all others you’ve ever known or loved before.
What a woman should be asking herself about any man is will he respect me as a woman, because to be a woman means I am emotionally driven and sometimes those emotions may or may not make sense to him – and when they don’t – will he judge me or call me crazy in the face of controversy? Will he encourage your independence while comprehending that you still need him to be strong for you? Will he respect that even though he may be the primary breadwinner that your opinions still matter and your contributions make you equals?Will he understand that between work, running a household, raising children and taking care of family members, that life can pull you in a hundred different directions on any given day, and because of this your patience can run thin and your energy level extinct, but that the careful delivery of a few kind words within this same situation can work magic, thereby turning the whole situation around? Will he be your protector – defending you to others – even placing himself between you and those who might seek to harm you with their words? Will he continue to stand by you even when it feels as if the rest of the world has deserted you, because if so, then you have found a champion among men, someone who sees not only your external beauty, but the goddess that exist within.
Relationships are not defined by the words we choose to describe them, but by a series of moments we weave together into an intricate tapestry that is uniquely our own. Some of those moments will be clouded in mystery and misunderstanding, while others will speak with a clarity that defies explanation. I’d like to think the most beautiful aspects of this particular work of art occur in those ‘defining moments’ when two people join together as ‘one’ sharing the same breath and mindset, goals and dreams, laughter and even sorrow, as they support one another through the worst of times. Moments that tell us we’re ‘in love’ or that the life I knew before this individual came along no longer matters, or even that painful moment when we fear we’re on the brink of losing someone when we suddenly realize the thought of a life without him or her is inconceivable, all serve to bridge the distance between our hearts and our heads in a way nothing else can. I recently heard it said that, “Life is not about staring at each other, but staring in the same direction,” and if that is true, then it doesn’t matter how alike or different two people are, but more importantly that they want the same things.
Any mariner will confirm a vessel travels much swifter through the water when its sailor’s row in the same direction and such is true with relationships. They can only continue to grow when two people are working for the same things, enjoying life’s victories and suffering life’s defeats together, as one. Too many couples waste far too much time at odds with each other, keeping secrets and pursuing individual goals until the infrastructure of their relationship erodes to the point it eventually crumbles away. Then as they sit across from each other in divorce court, they realize they don’t even know one another and wonder to themselves if they ever did. Therefore, before this happens, I suggest you pay attention to all the moments – from the very beginning – because they alone will tell you everything you need to know.
June 4, 2014
And I'll Raise That Bid .......
Vince Lombardi – the late, great former head coach of the Green Bay Packers – said it best, “Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.” Having been retired from my professional interior design job for several years now and long since out of school, somehow I managed to lose – or at least temporarily forget – my competitive edge somewhere along the way. I suppose when you’re sitting in your room all alone at home, staring at your blank computer screen waiting for inspiration, it’s just not really needed. But having said that just now, I can still sit here today allowing my mind to wander back to a time when I competed for the highest grades, or for better positions within a company, or even the choicest clients and vividly remember the adrenalin rush each and every time “I won!”
When you have a naturally competitive spirit, there’s nothing like it. I’ve never been able to casually play a game of monopoly, scrabble or even ping pong for that matter, as I tended more towards walking the fine line between celebratory behavior and downright bad sportsmanship each time I successfully spiked the ball, which inevitably infuriated my opponents to the point they all but refused to go up against me. I can’t help it …. it’s as much a part of my being as the color of my eyes.
My latest obsession with winning has manifested in the form of eBay. I know it’s been around for a while, and I – along with the rest of the world’s savvy shoppers – quickly opened up a PayPal account and began placing bids for items of interest the moment it first came onto the scene, but maybe I was too busy at the time, or failed to navigate the original site effectively, or perhaps I just couldn’t find what I was really searching for, because I quickly lost interest. However, my interest was renewed not terribly long ago when I decided to watch the “Breaking Bad” series on Netflix. On the very first episode, Skylar and Walt are in bed following his 50th birthday party and she – in typical womanly fashion – is ‘multi-tasking’ by servicing Walt in the form of a ‘hand-job’ while monitoring the bids as time ran out on the item she wished to purchase. At the last second she proffers the winning bid and she wins …. and so did Walter White for that matter …. or at least I think so. To tell you the truth I got so caught up in Skylar’s bidding that I can’t quite remember for certain. Try watching that scene with a straight face along with your parents, both aged over eighty.
At any rate since this past Saturday, I’ve been monitoring bids on a Michael Kors piece I decided I had to have. It was NWT (New With Tags for the un-indoctrinated). I carefully weighed my bid strategy in my mind, first entering a dollar amount which represented my ‘ideal’ price and that held good for four days, but as the clock ticked down to just under 1day, the bidding war began ….. What the hell! Were these people toying with my affection? I practically had it in my hands, even going so far as to ‘picture’ myself holding it, smelling the fine leather grain as I respectfully ran my fingers across the logoed closure.
Time to go to work ….. I quickly analyzed the bidding tendencies of my two main competitors, finally putting my college algebra to good use as I figured out the percentages they used to up the ante, and then I placed one final bid with a ceiling I did not intend to break through and nervously watched the time ran down …. “Like sands through the hourglass, this was a day in my life.” With my eyes glued to the computer, I watched as time ran down to three minutes, then two and one, with my finger nervously poised over the bid key just in case I caved in and decided to go just a little bit higher. Then voilà! It was mine! Strategic planning had paid off and I won! Oh I can feel the adrenalin coursing through my veins as I tap on these keys and say a silent prayer, “Please God, don’t ever place me in either Christies or Sotheby’s with a paddle in my hand.”
The victory not yet fuzzy in my memory banks, I vow not to let this new addiction get the best of me as I dare to take a quick look at Kate Spade while simultaneously wondering if eBay sponsors any 12-Step programs.
When you have a naturally competitive spirit, there’s nothing like it. I’ve never been able to casually play a game of monopoly, scrabble or even ping pong for that matter, as I tended more towards walking the fine line between celebratory behavior and downright bad sportsmanship each time I successfully spiked the ball, which inevitably infuriated my opponents to the point they all but refused to go up against me. I can’t help it …. it’s as much a part of my being as the color of my eyes.
My latest obsession with winning has manifested in the form of eBay. I know it’s been around for a while, and I – along with the rest of the world’s savvy shoppers – quickly opened up a PayPal account and began placing bids for items of interest the moment it first came onto the scene, but maybe I was too busy at the time, or failed to navigate the original site effectively, or perhaps I just couldn’t find what I was really searching for, because I quickly lost interest. However, my interest was renewed not terribly long ago when I decided to watch the “Breaking Bad” series on Netflix. On the very first episode, Skylar and Walt are in bed following his 50th birthday party and she – in typical womanly fashion – is ‘multi-tasking’ by servicing Walt in the form of a ‘hand-job’ while monitoring the bids as time ran out on the item she wished to purchase. At the last second she proffers the winning bid and she wins …. and so did Walter White for that matter …. or at least I think so. To tell you the truth I got so caught up in Skylar’s bidding that I can’t quite remember for certain. Try watching that scene with a straight face along with your parents, both aged over eighty.
At any rate since this past Saturday, I’ve been monitoring bids on a Michael Kors piece I decided I had to have. It was NWT (New With Tags for the un-indoctrinated). I carefully weighed my bid strategy in my mind, first entering a dollar amount which represented my ‘ideal’ price and that held good for four days, but as the clock ticked down to just under 1day, the bidding war began ….. What the hell! Were these people toying with my affection? I practically had it in my hands, even going so far as to ‘picture’ myself holding it, smelling the fine leather grain as I respectfully ran my fingers across the logoed closure.
Time to go to work ….. I quickly analyzed the bidding tendencies of my two main competitors, finally putting my college algebra to good use as I figured out the percentages they used to up the ante, and then I placed one final bid with a ceiling I did not intend to break through and nervously watched the time ran down …. “Like sands through the hourglass, this was a day in my life.” With my eyes glued to the computer, I watched as time ran down to three minutes, then two and one, with my finger nervously poised over the bid key just in case I caved in and decided to go just a little bit higher. Then voilà! It was mine! Strategic planning had paid off and I won! Oh I can feel the adrenalin coursing through my veins as I tap on these keys and say a silent prayer, “Please God, don’t ever place me in either Christies or Sotheby’s with a paddle in my hand.”
The victory not yet fuzzy in my memory banks, I vow not to let this new addiction get the best of me as I dare to take a quick look at Kate Spade while simultaneously wondering if eBay sponsors any 12-Step programs.
June 1, 2014
Relationship Secrets 101 .......
I seem to have established long ago that the most valuable lessons I’ve learned over the years have come about the ‘hard way’. As someone determined to have my own way, I’ve powered my way through life determined to make things happen the way I saw fit, but when it comes to relationships, my way often meant the highway. Now fifty plus years into my life, I’ve finally learned to quiet my ambitions long enough to actually to observe one nasty habit women make – myself included – that seems to drive men farther away versus drawing them closer.
Women tend to be the great communicators. Naturally ‘in touch’ with our emotions, we find it easy to open up about how something or someone makes us feel, and as such we like to express ourselves openly to the people we care most about, whether that be our partners, girlfriends, co-workers or our children. Most of the time this bodes well for us, as it opens up an exchange of information that can prove to be beneficial. However, when speaking in terms of our most intimate relationships, and how our male counterparts tend to react to such openness, it gets a little trickier.
Oftentimes, when a man initially expresses interest in a woman and the feelings are mutual, the two can’t seem to get enough of one another. His numerous phone calls, texts and emails abound as it seems every spare moment is spent connecting with the object of his affection. Conversely, as a woman – even when you might have experienced some reluctance from the onset – this kind of attention proves to be a powerful aphrodisiac, effectively shooting buckshot through whatever guard you may have initially set in place to protect yourself from getting in over your head for fear of losing yourself in the courtship. But just when you begin to show your vulnerability in the form of expressing how much you care, you suddenly begin to experience a ‘distance’ that previously failed to exist, causing you to question not only his true feelings but also what actions you might have committed to send him fleeing in the opposite direction. Believe me, I’ve been there.
I’ve suffered so much so that I’ve had to swear off all relationships with the opposite sex as a means to hold onto whatever sanity I had left, and once I did so, I began to experience greater clarity in terms of how men and women approach relationships altogether differently. It is no secret that men are ‘hunters’ and women are ‘nesters’. That fact was established long ago. As such, when a man is genuinely attracted to a woman – particularly when he is a Type A, Alpha male – he cannot resist the temptation to do whatever it takes to win her affection. This characteristic is woven into the fiber of his being and comes so naturally it is almost a reflex as opposed to a carefully conducted operation, but just as a man must ‘recover’ immediately following physical intimacy, so too exist the need to recover from emotional intimacy ….. i.e. the predictable distance that inevitably occurs between you. Thus it is ‘not’ a sign that he is a player or even that once he’s won you, he’s lost interest, or that he no longer cares for you, but rather it is a genetic, predisposed behavior. I admit some men – and women – are ‘players’ but the vast majority are not, and we should resist the opportunity to condemn either gender because our relationships are not progressing the way we’d like.
Society places a great deal of stress of men to be leaders, to show strength and control of their emotions at all times regardless of the situation. While women suffer from different kinds of stress, we are at least free to express our emotions – within reason – without so much fear of judgment. Admit it …. how many women have been in relationships where the guy dared let down his guard and became overly emotional and almost instantly you perceived him as ‘weak’ and thus began to lose interest? Instinctively, we want our men to be strong, because whether we admit it or not we want to feel as if they are capable of protecting us should the need arise.
But too many women – once they begin to suffer the effects of this new as before unexperienced distance – set about a course to ‘convince’ the object of their affection just how great the two of you are together, and as a result end of sending him that much farther away. It goes back to his need to feel in control, thus it’s difficult to convince a man to do anything that doesn’t already feel like his own idea, which is why coincidentally so many wives feel they have to harp at their husbands just to get him to take out the trash. Making yourself appear too needy goes against all the laws of attraction. Here women and men are no different, as we are both attracted to cool, confident members of the opposite sex. We like individuals who are comfortable in their own skin, have a sense of where they’re going and the wherewithal to get there. We like people who are in command of their lives, which is why successful people draw us closer to them as opposed to how much money they have in the bank.
So what do you do when that inevitable distance occurs? You go on about your life, pursuing your own dreams and ambitions, doing the things you love, seeing the people who matter while not staring at your cell phone waiting and obsessing over the call or text that may or may not come for a while. As such you create the space and the distance for him to feel the need to move closer to you once more, and by doing so you remain the confident woman that attracted him in the first place.
It’s okay to express your needs and expectations, as well as your boundaries where relationships are concerned, as I find most men respond to this much in the same way they would a valid business proposal, because there’s not only logic but sound reasoning behind the willingness to do so. In so doing, you place just as high a premium on your own time and energy letting him know you’re not going to waste a precious moment spent waiting on him to call. Once you reach this place, the imposed distance will serve to give you both the clarity you need to decipher how much this individual means to you and how willing you are to stay vested in a possible future together. Then even if it doesn’t work out, you don’t have to spend months in recovery resenting the time you wasted and risk carrying that same resentment forward into your next possible connection, thereby poisoning all future prospects with past failures.
We’ve all loved and lost, but with the proper mindset, it becomes equally as possible to love and win. Happy dating …….
Women tend to be the great communicators. Naturally ‘in touch’ with our emotions, we find it easy to open up about how something or someone makes us feel, and as such we like to express ourselves openly to the people we care most about, whether that be our partners, girlfriends, co-workers or our children. Most of the time this bodes well for us, as it opens up an exchange of information that can prove to be beneficial. However, when speaking in terms of our most intimate relationships, and how our male counterparts tend to react to such openness, it gets a little trickier.
Oftentimes, when a man initially expresses interest in a woman and the feelings are mutual, the two can’t seem to get enough of one another. His numerous phone calls, texts and emails abound as it seems every spare moment is spent connecting with the object of his affection. Conversely, as a woman – even when you might have experienced some reluctance from the onset – this kind of attention proves to be a powerful aphrodisiac, effectively shooting buckshot through whatever guard you may have initially set in place to protect yourself from getting in over your head for fear of losing yourself in the courtship. But just when you begin to show your vulnerability in the form of expressing how much you care, you suddenly begin to experience a ‘distance’ that previously failed to exist, causing you to question not only his true feelings but also what actions you might have committed to send him fleeing in the opposite direction. Believe me, I’ve been there.
I’ve suffered so much so that I’ve had to swear off all relationships with the opposite sex as a means to hold onto whatever sanity I had left, and once I did so, I began to experience greater clarity in terms of how men and women approach relationships altogether differently. It is no secret that men are ‘hunters’ and women are ‘nesters’. That fact was established long ago. As such, when a man is genuinely attracted to a woman – particularly when he is a Type A, Alpha male – he cannot resist the temptation to do whatever it takes to win her affection. This characteristic is woven into the fiber of his being and comes so naturally it is almost a reflex as opposed to a carefully conducted operation, but just as a man must ‘recover’ immediately following physical intimacy, so too exist the need to recover from emotional intimacy ….. i.e. the predictable distance that inevitably occurs between you. Thus it is ‘not’ a sign that he is a player or even that once he’s won you, he’s lost interest, or that he no longer cares for you, but rather it is a genetic, predisposed behavior. I admit some men – and women – are ‘players’ but the vast majority are not, and we should resist the opportunity to condemn either gender because our relationships are not progressing the way we’d like.
Society places a great deal of stress of men to be leaders, to show strength and control of their emotions at all times regardless of the situation. While women suffer from different kinds of stress, we are at least free to express our emotions – within reason – without so much fear of judgment. Admit it …. how many women have been in relationships where the guy dared let down his guard and became overly emotional and almost instantly you perceived him as ‘weak’ and thus began to lose interest? Instinctively, we want our men to be strong, because whether we admit it or not we want to feel as if they are capable of protecting us should the need arise.
But too many women – once they begin to suffer the effects of this new as before unexperienced distance – set about a course to ‘convince’ the object of their affection just how great the two of you are together, and as a result end of sending him that much farther away. It goes back to his need to feel in control, thus it’s difficult to convince a man to do anything that doesn’t already feel like his own idea, which is why coincidentally so many wives feel they have to harp at their husbands just to get him to take out the trash. Making yourself appear too needy goes against all the laws of attraction. Here women and men are no different, as we are both attracted to cool, confident members of the opposite sex. We like individuals who are comfortable in their own skin, have a sense of where they’re going and the wherewithal to get there. We like people who are in command of their lives, which is why successful people draw us closer to them as opposed to how much money they have in the bank.
So what do you do when that inevitable distance occurs? You go on about your life, pursuing your own dreams and ambitions, doing the things you love, seeing the people who matter while not staring at your cell phone waiting and obsessing over the call or text that may or may not come for a while. As such you create the space and the distance for him to feel the need to move closer to you once more, and by doing so you remain the confident woman that attracted him in the first place.
It’s okay to express your needs and expectations, as well as your boundaries where relationships are concerned, as I find most men respond to this much in the same way they would a valid business proposal, because there’s not only logic but sound reasoning behind the willingness to do so. In so doing, you place just as high a premium on your own time and energy letting him know you’re not going to waste a precious moment spent waiting on him to call. Once you reach this place, the imposed distance will serve to give you both the clarity you need to decipher how much this individual means to you and how willing you are to stay vested in a possible future together. Then even if it doesn’t work out, you don’t have to spend months in recovery resenting the time you wasted and risk carrying that same resentment forward into your next possible connection, thereby poisoning all future prospects with past failures.
We’ve all loved and lost, but with the proper mindset, it becomes equally as possible to love and win. Happy dating …….
May 29, 2014
Walking A Fine Line ......
I’ve been thinking a lot about justice today, partly because I’ve been watching the Netflix original series “Orange Is The New Black” of late, a story told from the point-of-view of a young Connecticut woman who grew up privileged, learning the ways of blue bloods while attending Smith. During her youth, in an act of rebellion she got involved in a Lesbian affair with another privileged girl from the upper East Side, which led her to running drug money unbeknownst to her at the time. In the meantime she grew up, rehabilitated her ways, became a successful business woman and got engaged to a writer, when her past managed to catch up with her once her former lover was arrested and decided to name names. Therefore, she was subsequently sentenced to thirteen months in federal prison.
The series is graphic in its depiction of life on the inside when women from all walks of life and a mix of cultures are forced to live within a flawed prison system where corruption runs rampant and any chance of finding redemption, much less rehabilitation is remote. The writing is crisp and intelligent and the characters draw you closer and closer to them as each installment chronicles their lives inside prison, mingled with flashbacks to the series of unlikely events that landed them there in the first place.
At some point you begin to realize there’s very little that can separate a woman who lives an orthodox life on the outside from one who’s landed herself on an unplanned stint in prison for failing to obey to the laws of the land. One woman’s daughter gets raped and she starts a support group, while another daughter’s mom takes a knife and ends the life of the bastard who committed the crime. One young woman takes care of her younger siblings by taking on three jobs, while another decides to cook meth in her kitchen to do the same. One woman experiences neglect and abuse and internalizes it to the point she’s ready to take her own life while another who experiences the same kind of treatment decides to fight back by taking the life of the abuser. In any given situation we have choices. Sometimes good sense prevails and we do the right thing even though there’s little reward in having done so. Other times we choose immediate gratification tipping the balance in the direction of the wrong side of the law, and if you get caught you’re forced to pay.
I think the lesson here is ‘don’t judge’. Any one of us could find ourselves there given the right set of circumstances, and once there you succumb to the pressures of conformity – even within a broken system – all in the name of survival. The funny thing is power rules on the inside same as it does on the outside, and the one holding all the cards at the end of the game wins.
On another note, this morning while I was getting dressed I had the news on the in background when I stopped dead in my tracks upon hearing Ernesto Anaya, accused of shooting his wife in the chest on May 13th leaving her paralyzed from the neck down, was released on $50,000 bond. At that time he had violated an ‘order of protection’ on the day of the shooting. His defense attorney successfully argued that Anaya was not a flight risk and that he needed to be released in order to run his business, despite his former wife’s family’s pleas to the contrary. Hmmmmm……
I don’t know what shocked me the most …. the fact he was released or the fact he had only been charged with ‘battery’. I’m not an attorney, but it seems to me when you point a gun at a woman’s chest and fire the trigger you mean to ‘kill’ her. Why can’t we get these laws on domestic violence right? How many women – or men – have to die at the hands of an abusive spouse before we develop an understanding that so-called ‘orders of protection’ are basically worthless pieces of paper, which is why I chose not to issue one during my own grizzly divorce, even though at one time my Ex threw me in a car and proceeded to drive me out of town without an explanation as to why while our son was lying in a hospital bed. It was only when I continued to threaten to open the car door and jump out of the speeding car that he consented to turn back.
Some people who are otherwise thoughtful, intelligent individuals but are incapable of dealing with the separation imposed by divorce have a propensity to turn into monsters when their backs are up against a wall. When this happens, those on the unfortunate receiving end must depend upon law enforcement to intervene and protect, but the protection can only be effective when there are laws in place to support it.
I know the defense attorney was only doing his job, but to me when you shoot a woman in the chest causing permanent paralysis, you give up your right to freedom and whatever business you’re in no longer matters, because you made a choice to take matters into your own hands in a manner designed to take another’s existence. Life in general is about choices, and whenever you’re faced with a bad situation, you can deliberate long enough to make a good choice or act impulsively and face the potential consequences, remembering at one time or another we all must walk the fine line between good and evil.
The series is graphic in its depiction of life on the inside when women from all walks of life and a mix of cultures are forced to live within a flawed prison system where corruption runs rampant and any chance of finding redemption, much less rehabilitation is remote. The writing is crisp and intelligent and the characters draw you closer and closer to them as each installment chronicles their lives inside prison, mingled with flashbacks to the series of unlikely events that landed them there in the first place.
At some point you begin to realize there’s very little that can separate a woman who lives an orthodox life on the outside from one who’s landed herself on an unplanned stint in prison for failing to obey to the laws of the land. One woman’s daughter gets raped and she starts a support group, while another daughter’s mom takes a knife and ends the life of the bastard who committed the crime. One young woman takes care of her younger siblings by taking on three jobs, while another decides to cook meth in her kitchen to do the same. One woman experiences neglect and abuse and internalizes it to the point she’s ready to take her own life while another who experiences the same kind of treatment decides to fight back by taking the life of the abuser. In any given situation we have choices. Sometimes good sense prevails and we do the right thing even though there’s little reward in having done so. Other times we choose immediate gratification tipping the balance in the direction of the wrong side of the law, and if you get caught you’re forced to pay.
I think the lesson here is ‘don’t judge’. Any one of us could find ourselves there given the right set of circumstances, and once there you succumb to the pressures of conformity – even within a broken system – all in the name of survival. The funny thing is power rules on the inside same as it does on the outside, and the one holding all the cards at the end of the game wins.
On another note, this morning while I was getting dressed I had the news on the in background when I stopped dead in my tracks upon hearing Ernesto Anaya, accused of shooting his wife in the chest on May 13th leaving her paralyzed from the neck down, was released on $50,000 bond. At that time he had violated an ‘order of protection’ on the day of the shooting. His defense attorney successfully argued that Anaya was not a flight risk and that he needed to be released in order to run his business, despite his former wife’s family’s pleas to the contrary. Hmmmmm……
I don’t know what shocked me the most …. the fact he was released or the fact he had only been charged with ‘battery’. I’m not an attorney, but it seems to me when you point a gun at a woman’s chest and fire the trigger you mean to ‘kill’ her. Why can’t we get these laws on domestic violence right? How many women – or men – have to die at the hands of an abusive spouse before we develop an understanding that so-called ‘orders of protection’ are basically worthless pieces of paper, which is why I chose not to issue one during my own grizzly divorce, even though at one time my Ex threw me in a car and proceeded to drive me out of town without an explanation as to why while our son was lying in a hospital bed. It was only when I continued to threaten to open the car door and jump out of the speeding car that he consented to turn back.
Some people who are otherwise thoughtful, intelligent individuals but are incapable of dealing with the separation imposed by divorce have a propensity to turn into monsters when their backs are up against a wall. When this happens, those on the unfortunate receiving end must depend upon law enforcement to intervene and protect, but the protection can only be effective when there are laws in place to support it.
I know the defense attorney was only doing his job, but to me when you shoot a woman in the chest causing permanent paralysis, you give up your right to freedom and whatever business you’re in no longer matters, because you made a choice to take matters into your own hands in a manner designed to take another’s existence. Life in general is about choices, and whenever you’re faced with a bad situation, you can deliberate long enough to make a good choice or act impulsively and face the potential consequences, remembering at one time or another we all must walk the fine line between good and evil.
May 28, 2014
With the Bird No Longer Caged, She Sings Even Louder in A Heavenly Chior .....
Today the great American poet and playwright Maya Angelo passed away quietly at 86 years of age. Throughout her life she struggled to define her identity and the voice that would one day characterize her unique brand of strength comingled with grace amidst deliberate racism and the subsequent fallout after having been raped at the tender age of eight years old at the hands of her mother’s boyfriend. Her first autobiography in a series of 7 titled “I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings” was a ‘coming of age’ story which illustrated how strength of character coupled with a love of literature enabled her to overcome unimaginable trauma and an environment teeming with atrocities. Through her mastery of language, she was able to use her own life experiences as metaphors for the suffering of her race and its efforts to resist oppression.
I suppose we all have an ‘identity crisis’ at some point during our lives wherein we’re called upon to decipher how it is we fit into this intricate puzzle known as humanity. We struggle to make our marks on society while resisting the tendency to get lost in the process, but no one can fully understand the effects of bigotry and racism until they have the misfortune to confront it head on.
Having been born white, there is no way I can walk a mile in any black woman’s shoes, but roughly twenty years ago while traveling with my former husband who was working on a jobsite in the town of Philadelphia, Mississippi, I got a terrifying glimpse of what it must feel like to feel helpless and afraid in the face of those whose vision was narrow and sights locked on the damning principles they’d been raised to think of as truth …. that whites were superior and blacks were nothing more than worthless animals. Perhaps the only thing that was worse in their eyes was white sympathizers who dared to want to change the same system that had been in place for decades.
Philadelphia, Mississippi had previously placed itself on the map back during the sixties when on June 21, 1964 three young civil rights workers named James Earl Chaney, Andrew Goodman and Michael “Mickey” Schwerner were discovered in a shallow grave outside of town after having been shot to death execution style. One of the men was black and the other two white. The characters and events leading up to their murders and the subsequent cover-up was the storyline for the once popular movie “Mississippi Burning”.
Unfortunately, I found Philadelphia hadn’t changed that much back in the mid-nineties when I stayed there in a boarding house with my husband. The town was small and situated around a central square, which is typical for small southern towns. I was writing my first book at that time, banging it out on the keys of an electric IBM typewriter one painful page at a time. During the days when Brian was working, when I grew tired and bored or hungry I’d venture out and walk around town. One day I decided to take a seat on a barstool at the only diner in town as far as I could see for a cheeseburger and a glass of ice tea. Naturally friendly, I inevitably struck up a conversation with the big, heavyset man behind the counter who seemed inordinately curious why a strange woman in her thirties was sitting in his café that day all alone.
I explained I had come with my husband who was working on a jobsite on the edge of town and that we were staying at the only available inn just around the corner. When his questions were satisfied, our conversation trailed off, and I was grateful to enjoy some peace and quiet. As I waited on my lunch, I began taking in my surroundings, which included reading the multitude of signs nailed up on the facing wall when I was horrified by what I saw ….. there must have been thirty or more plaques boasting derisive racial slurs. I looked back toward the door I’d come through from off the street to see another sign proclaiming, “Whites Only” and then behind me toward another adjoining room that stepped down a couple of feet and read another sign labled ‘coloreds’. My heart rate sped up to the point I could hear it beating like a snare drum inside my ears. I wanted to rush out leaving my lunch behind when the same man who had questioned me earlier decided to ask one more, “What do you think of them signs?”
I was all but speechless as I struggled to get out a few words, “They’re something.” I immediately sensed my personal politics and viewpoints were being placed on trial right before me, and the survivalist existing inside of me knew this was neither the time nor place to pick a fight. I went on to state that I had to get back to my work at the boarding house and, “Could I please get my sandwich to go?” With a sneer he grunted an affirmative sound, and I sat motionless, staring at the floor until I could leave.
Back at the boarding house I hurried inside where I could seek safety outside of anyone else’s view. On the way I passed one of the owners – what I thought had been a kind, elderly gentleman – who asked how the blueberry pie was his wife had baked and sent to our room earlier that morning. I nodded ‘good’ and hastily thanked him once again before disappearing behind the door to my room. Later that same afternoon I heard him beat back an old black woman when she tried to exit her room. She was apparently a permanent tenant there upon the agreement that she remain out of sight. While he slapped her I could hear him yelling, “You’re not supposed to leave your room!” I pushed a chest in front of my door and cried as I peered out the side of a drape toward the street. I was alone. I didn’t even have a car, and I was afraid.
Later when my husband came in from work I recanted the events of my afternoon and how frightened I was. I told him I wanted to leave right then, but he refused. We’d already paid for the week and there were still two days remaining. He decided I had over-dramatized the day’s events and suggested I remain in the room for the balance of the week, then asked why there was a blueberry pie in the garbage. Not wishing to argue any further, I told him there were ants.
When I turned on the news the next morning, there was a reported ‘third’ black inmate who had hung himself at a prison in Meridian not too far from where we were staying. Exaggerated? I don’t think so. The Civil Rights Movement was still burning holes in that small community in Mississippi. So although I don’t know what it’s like to be black and to be oppressed for the color of my skin, I do know what it’s like to feel helpless and afraid and for those fears to go invalidated even when you’ve done nothing wrong, which makes the stories of those who have suffered so much greater than I but still managed to rise to extraordinary heights that much more impressive.
Over the next few days there will be countless memorials and tributes to the greatness that was Maya Angelo and my words will pale in comparison; however, I am proud to say I lived in a time when her work for civil rights along with the many who preceded her – both great and small – resonates as a living tribute for equality that will last an eternity.
Though Ms. Angelo was a poet of great standing I choose to close this tribute with the words of Paul Lawrence Dunbar, an African American poet whose 3rd stanza inspired her first book:
I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,
When he beats his bars and would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,
But a plea, that upward to heaven he flings –
I know why the caged bird sings.
The end of last week, Ms. Angelo tweeted her final tweet on Twitter, one of a rather prophetic nature, “Listen to yourself and in that quietude you might hear the voice of God.” Now that’s poetry, and I’d like to barrow from another living poet, or rather lyricist, Sarah Mclachlan, “In the arms of the angels, may you find some comfort there.” Good night, Ms. Angelo.
I suppose we all have an ‘identity crisis’ at some point during our lives wherein we’re called upon to decipher how it is we fit into this intricate puzzle known as humanity. We struggle to make our marks on society while resisting the tendency to get lost in the process, but no one can fully understand the effects of bigotry and racism until they have the misfortune to confront it head on.
Having been born white, there is no way I can walk a mile in any black woman’s shoes, but roughly twenty years ago while traveling with my former husband who was working on a jobsite in the town of Philadelphia, Mississippi, I got a terrifying glimpse of what it must feel like to feel helpless and afraid in the face of those whose vision was narrow and sights locked on the damning principles they’d been raised to think of as truth …. that whites were superior and blacks were nothing more than worthless animals. Perhaps the only thing that was worse in their eyes was white sympathizers who dared to want to change the same system that had been in place for decades.
Philadelphia, Mississippi had previously placed itself on the map back during the sixties when on June 21, 1964 three young civil rights workers named James Earl Chaney, Andrew Goodman and Michael “Mickey” Schwerner were discovered in a shallow grave outside of town after having been shot to death execution style. One of the men was black and the other two white. The characters and events leading up to their murders and the subsequent cover-up was the storyline for the once popular movie “Mississippi Burning”.
Unfortunately, I found Philadelphia hadn’t changed that much back in the mid-nineties when I stayed there in a boarding house with my husband. The town was small and situated around a central square, which is typical for small southern towns. I was writing my first book at that time, banging it out on the keys of an electric IBM typewriter one painful page at a time. During the days when Brian was working, when I grew tired and bored or hungry I’d venture out and walk around town. One day I decided to take a seat on a barstool at the only diner in town as far as I could see for a cheeseburger and a glass of ice tea. Naturally friendly, I inevitably struck up a conversation with the big, heavyset man behind the counter who seemed inordinately curious why a strange woman in her thirties was sitting in his café that day all alone.
I explained I had come with my husband who was working on a jobsite on the edge of town and that we were staying at the only available inn just around the corner. When his questions were satisfied, our conversation trailed off, and I was grateful to enjoy some peace and quiet. As I waited on my lunch, I began taking in my surroundings, which included reading the multitude of signs nailed up on the facing wall when I was horrified by what I saw ….. there must have been thirty or more plaques boasting derisive racial slurs. I looked back toward the door I’d come through from off the street to see another sign proclaiming, “Whites Only” and then behind me toward another adjoining room that stepped down a couple of feet and read another sign labled ‘coloreds’. My heart rate sped up to the point I could hear it beating like a snare drum inside my ears. I wanted to rush out leaving my lunch behind when the same man who had questioned me earlier decided to ask one more, “What do you think of them signs?”
I was all but speechless as I struggled to get out a few words, “They’re something.” I immediately sensed my personal politics and viewpoints were being placed on trial right before me, and the survivalist existing inside of me knew this was neither the time nor place to pick a fight. I went on to state that I had to get back to my work at the boarding house and, “Could I please get my sandwich to go?” With a sneer he grunted an affirmative sound, and I sat motionless, staring at the floor until I could leave.
Back at the boarding house I hurried inside where I could seek safety outside of anyone else’s view. On the way I passed one of the owners – what I thought had been a kind, elderly gentleman – who asked how the blueberry pie was his wife had baked and sent to our room earlier that morning. I nodded ‘good’ and hastily thanked him once again before disappearing behind the door to my room. Later that same afternoon I heard him beat back an old black woman when she tried to exit her room. She was apparently a permanent tenant there upon the agreement that she remain out of sight. While he slapped her I could hear him yelling, “You’re not supposed to leave your room!” I pushed a chest in front of my door and cried as I peered out the side of a drape toward the street. I was alone. I didn’t even have a car, and I was afraid.
Later when my husband came in from work I recanted the events of my afternoon and how frightened I was. I told him I wanted to leave right then, but he refused. We’d already paid for the week and there were still two days remaining. He decided I had over-dramatized the day’s events and suggested I remain in the room for the balance of the week, then asked why there was a blueberry pie in the garbage. Not wishing to argue any further, I told him there were ants.
When I turned on the news the next morning, there was a reported ‘third’ black inmate who had hung himself at a prison in Meridian not too far from where we were staying. Exaggerated? I don’t think so. The Civil Rights Movement was still burning holes in that small community in Mississippi. So although I don’t know what it’s like to be black and to be oppressed for the color of my skin, I do know what it’s like to feel helpless and afraid and for those fears to go invalidated even when you’ve done nothing wrong, which makes the stories of those who have suffered so much greater than I but still managed to rise to extraordinary heights that much more impressive.
Over the next few days there will be countless memorials and tributes to the greatness that was Maya Angelo and my words will pale in comparison; however, I am proud to say I lived in a time when her work for civil rights along with the many who preceded her – both great and small – resonates as a living tribute for equality that will last an eternity.
Though Ms. Angelo was a poet of great standing I choose to close this tribute with the words of Paul Lawrence Dunbar, an African American poet whose 3rd stanza inspired her first book:
I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,
When he beats his bars and would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,
But a plea, that upward to heaven he flings –
I know why the caged bird sings.
The end of last week, Ms. Angelo tweeted her final tweet on Twitter, one of a rather prophetic nature, “Listen to yourself and in that quietude you might hear the voice of God.” Now that’s poetry, and I’d like to barrow from another living poet, or rather lyricist, Sarah Mclachlan, “In the arms of the angels, may you find some comfort there.” Good night, Ms. Angelo.
May 26, 2014
In Memoriam .....
With the sound of numerous boats and jet skis bouncing off the water and echoing in unison against my nearby window pane, I couldn’t possibly escape the fact that today is the holiday set aside to kick off a summer filled with outdoor events while we take a moment to reflect upon and then honor those who have so bravely served our nation. It was only last night, as I endeavored to catch up on some recorded programming that an impressive fireworks display blazed across the sky nearby accompanied by the sound of thunder punctuating the usually calm night air before being met with cheers from the assembled crowd, that I couldn’t help thinking about the stark contrast in mindset and emotions similar sights and sounds must have brought about when played out on the battlefield.
When it comes to war and the question of fighting for our freedom, my viewpoints were primarily shaped by the Vietnam War, because it occurred during the time when I and my contemporaries were coming of age. When I look at today’s youth, I am struck by the fact that certain realities I grew up with like lotteries and reported daily death tolls on the evening news are foreign concepts, and I am grateful for that, even though their generation has been exposed to both the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. But bolstered by post 9/11 camaraderie and the perceived need to keep our country safe from terrorism, our involvements in both places have been entirely different than it was when I was young.
Who today would think what happened in a tiny little country in Southeast Asia would matter that much to one of the world’s most feared superpowers? However, with Eisenhower’s proposed ‘Domino Effect’ and fears of Khrushchev’s Communism taking over the free world, our military was called to action to fight in a war that would last 10,000 days and take the lives of 58,220 U.S. military soldiers, not to mention tens of thousands of others who came back with severed limbs and impossibly damaged psyches to a nation that – at that time – refused to honor their service, as Vietnam had been the first instance where draft-dodging was a common practice and the right to challenge authority was played out on college campuses across the nation.
War is ugly …. and Vietnam was particularly grotesque, because unlike its predecessors, it was guerilla warfare and not fought conventionally. Since we had failed to win the hearts and minds of the very people we were there fighting for, many of them campaigned along with the enemy in an attempt to rid us from their country. Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia were not Democracies like the U.S. but were primarily farming villages that peacefully worked their rice paddies and lived life according to their traditions. Fears of world domination and what happened in global politics mattered little to these primarily agricultural countries, but it came to matter a great deal once powerful chemical concoctions like napalm and Agent Orange blanketed their nation, thereby killing off all vegetation for the next ten years and with it their ability to survive off the land. Pipe bombs, booby-traps and ambushes became the standard and not the exception, therefore our soldiers were faced with fighting not only the enemy across battle lines, but the enemy from within. How many eighteen-year-olds – the age at which a young man became eligible for the draft – with no prior military experience do you know who would be capable of handling such adversity?
Therefore, as I sit here today in quiet reflection I honor all those who have served our nation, particularly those who helped shape my generation, because even when they were forced into the draft, they still fought against incredible odds for perhaps the greatest concept of all …. FREEDOM. I have been fortunate to visit the Vietnam Memorial in Washington D.C. twice and as I have ran my fingers across the over fifty-eight thousand names etched into the granite surface, I am brought to tears by the realization that each represents a person …. somebody’s son or daughter, a husband or son, somebody’s mother or sister. Each had family who loved them and felt their loss so profoundly it shook them to the core of their being.
So today with flags flying high we typically dust off the backyard barbeque and ready the preparations to host family and friends at the end of a cherished three-day weekend, but we do so with reverence to all those who have given their all in the name of keeping ‘freedom’ a living, breathing truth within the boundaries of the place we call home …. America the brave.
When it comes to war and the question of fighting for our freedom, my viewpoints were primarily shaped by the Vietnam War, because it occurred during the time when I and my contemporaries were coming of age. When I look at today’s youth, I am struck by the fact that certain realities I grew up with like lotteries and reported daily death tolls on the evening news are foreign concepts, and I am grateful for that, even though their generation has been exposed to both the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. But bolstered by post 9/11 camaraderie and the perceived need to keep our country safe from terrorism, our involvements in both places have been entirely different than it was when I was young.
Who today would think what happened in a tiny little country in Southeast Asia would matter that much to one of the world’s most feared superpowers? However, with Eisenhower’s proposed ‘Domino Effect’ and fears of Khrushchev’s Communism taking over the free world, our military was called to action to fight in a war that would last 10,000 days and take the lives of 58,220 U.S. military soldiers, not to mention tens of thousands of others who came back with severed limbs and impossibly damaged psyches to a nation that – at that time – refused to honor their service, as Vietnam had been the first instance where draft-dodging was a common practice and the right to challenge authority was played out on college campuses across the nation.
War is ugly …. and Vietnam was particularly grotesque, because unlike its predecessors, it was guerilla warfare and not fought conventionally. Since we had failed to win the hearts and minds of the very people we were there fighting for, many of them campaigned along with the enemy in an attempt to rid us from their country. Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia were not Democracies like the U.S. but were primarily farming villages that peacefully worked their rice paddies and lived life according to their traditions. Fears of world domination and what happened in global politics mattered little to these primarily agricultural countries, but it came to matter a great deal once powerful chemical concoctions like napalm and Agent Orange blanketed their nation, thereby killing off all vegetation for the next ten years and with it their ability to survive off the land. Pipe bombs, booby-traps and ambushes became the standard and not the exception, therefore our soldiers were faced with fighting not only the enemy across battle lines, but the enemy from within. How many eighteen-year-olds – the age at which a young man became eligible for the draft – with no prior military experience do you know who would be capable of handling such adversity?
Therefore, as I sit here today in quiet reflection I honor all those who have served our nation, particularly those who helped shape my generation, because even when they were forced into the draft, they still fought against incredible odds for perhaps the greatest concept of all …. FREEDOM. I have been fortunate to visit the Vietnam Memorial in Washington D.C. twice and as I have ran my fingers across the over fifty-eight thousand names etched into the granite surface, I am brought to tears by the realization that each represents a person …. somebody’s son or daughter, a husband or son, somebody’s mother or sister. Each had family who loved them and felt their loss so profoundly it shook them to the core of their being.
So today with flags flying high we typically dust off the backyard barbeque and ready the preparations to host family and friends at the end of a cherished three-day weekend, but we do so with reverence to all those who have given their all in the name of keeping ‘freedom’ a living, breathing truth within the boundaries of the place we call home …. America the brave.
May 24, 2014
In God We Trust ......
I’ve decided watching the evening news can be a ‘painful experience’ ….. particularly of late. Two months ago 239 passengers and crew seemingly disappeared into thin air when flight MH 370 took off from Kuala Lumpur bound for Beijing when in less than an hour into the flight it appears something went terribly wrong. With conspiracy theories running amuck online, what actually happened still remains a mystery, and all any of us can do is pray for both the victims and their families. Disaster next laid its hands on Jindo, South Korea, when a ferry carrying primarily teenagers capsized and trapped the majority of those below deck where the murky waters wrestled their young lives away from them. While the captain swam to safety, 288 others perished with 16 who still remain ‘missing’. Then fate pointed its merciless attention to a small mining town called Soma in the province of Manisa, Turkey where 301 miners met their untimely end in a grave they, themselves, dug as part of their job.
As countless pictures of draped caskets and the grieving that are being paraded in public flash across our television screens, it’s difficult to believe that God could actually have a hand in such suffering. So if not, then why didn’t He at least prevent it?
Having suffered the sudden and tragic loss of my own brother almost ten years ago, I’ve had to wrestle with these same questions in my own mind, and the best that I can come up with is that God gave us each this wonderful gift we call ‘life’ but it did not come with guarantees. Most of us strike out in life with the best of intentions, hoping to accomplish our dreams when we dare to recognize them. We try not to squander the precious time we’re given, but sometimes even with the best of intentions life can go terribly off course, and as such we cannot help but be affected by the subsequent fallout, which oftentimes causes us to fall short of fully understanding God’s glory.
This is the earth we inhabit – not Heaven – and it is gritty and dirty at times, unscrupulous in its thirst for wealth and power and unforgiving of those who fail to make the grade, and although I am a great believer in the power of faith to move mountains, when you’re faced head on with a crisis, sometimes prayer alone is simply not enough. We all need tangible resources we can rely on in times when our faith is tested, and some of those resources are not to be found in church, but rather in friends, family and sometimes even strangers who are physically there to help and support us in our times of need, as well as in our own self-reliance, which is a wonderful aspect to cultivate within.
I personally can’t see God having a problem with anyone who seeks to not only strengthen their faith, but also their resolve as if it were a bottomless well to be drawn upon as needed. God the Father is a parent in the greatest sense, therefore why wouldn’t He take pride in our accomplishments, particularly when we have overcome adversity in order to find that life still exists on the other side where goodness and joy still reign supreme? Whether tragedy strikes in the form of a sudden job loss complete with creditors breathing down your throats, or the unanticipated loss of home and property as was the case in the recent tornadoes that hit Arkansas, or even worse when the unthinkable happens, and you’re faced with coming to terms with the loss of a treasured loved one, our faith in God is there to help prop us up and assist us in finding the answers we seek when at first all reason eludes us as we grapple with a reality that is almost too hard to comprehend, but practicality also serves us when we find we need something real to hold on to.
When I happen to take a look at Facebook these days I find it’s flooded with inspirational quotes, which I tend to click ‘like’ on because I do like them and appreciate their deeper meaning. They give each of us something greater than ourselves to believe in whether in times of peace or struggle, but I also find it equally as inspirational when someone in need reaches out for the support of friends and acquaintances and is rewarded in abundance with words of encouragement and offers of help. It’s touching and heart rending to the point I can honestly say, “It helps me to find an even greater faith in the God who watches over us all.”
As countless pictures of draped caskets and the grieving that are being paraded in public flash across our television screens, it’s difficult to believe that God could actually have a hand in such suffering. So if not, then why didn’t He at least prevent it?
Having suffered the sudden and tragic loss of my own brother almost ten years ago, I’ve had to wrestle with these same questions in my own mind, and the best that I can come up with is that God gave us each this wonderful gift we call ‘life’ but it did not come with guarantees. Most of us strike out in life with the best of intentions, hoping to accomplish our dreams when we dare to recognize them. We try not to squander the precious time we’re given, but sometimes even with the best of intentions life can go terribly off course, and as such we cannot help but be affected by the subsequent fallout, which oftentimes causes us to fall short of fully understanding God’s glory.
This is the earth we inhabit – not Heaven – and it is gritty and dirty at times, unscrupulous in its thirst for wealth and power and unforgiving of those who fail to make the grade, and although I am a great believer in the power of faith to move mountains, when you’re faced head on with a crisis, sometimes prayer alone is simply not enough. We all need tangible resources we can rely on in times when our faith is tested, and some of those resources are not to be found in church, but rather in friends, family and sometimes even strangers who are physically there to help and support us in our times of need, as well as in our own self-reliance, which is a wonderful aspect to cultivate within.
I personally can’t see God having a problem with anyone who seeks to not only strengthen their faith, but also their resolve as if it were a bottomless well to be drawn upon as needed. God the Father is a parent in the greatest sense, therefore why wouldn’t He take pride in our accomplishments, particularly when we have overcome adversity in order to find that life still exists on the other side where goodness and joy still reign supreme? Whether tragedy strikes in the form of a sudden job loss complete with creditors breathing down your throats, or the unanticipated loss of home and property as was the case in the recent tornadoes that hit Arkansas, or even worse when the unthinkable happens, and you’re faced with coming to terms with the loss of a treasured loved one, our faith in God is there to help prop us up and assist us in finding the answers we seek when at first all reason eludes us as we grapple with a reality that is almost too hard to comprehend, but practicality also serves us when we find we need something real to hold on to.
When I happen to take a look at Facebook these days I find it’s flooded with inspirational quotes, which I tend to click ‘like’ on because I do like them and appreciate their deeper meaning. They give each of us something greater than ourselves to believe in whether in times of peace or struggle, but I also find it equally as inspirational when someone in need reaches out for the support of friends and acquaintances and is rewarded in abundance with words of encouragement and offers of help. It’s touching and heart rending to the point I can honestly say, “It helps me to find an even greater faith in the God who watches over us all.”
May 21, 2014
Ex's and O's .........
Since the time I was a girl in school it’s been fashionable to sign off on cards and letters and now emails and texts with the affectionate XO …… kisses and hugs. What a sweet gesture, but what about when one of those X’s becomes and Ex? Where does all that love and affection go to find a home? The same kind of unanticipated tragedy capable of robbing a couple of the protection provided by mutual attraction also inflicts the collateral damage of leaving love homeless, destined to wander the streets in search of new couple who will grant it asylum, if only for a little while.
Love can be so powerful at times that it’s capable of bonding two people together as nothing else can, but life is hard and sometimes it takes a toll. Some couples are capable of withstanding the seemingly endless body blows inflicted by pain and strife, while others are not. Others choose to take their frustrations out on those closest to them in hopes of securing some form of relief capable of sustaining them through difficulty until light once again shines down on their lives. But done once too often, the depth of emotion that once bound you as one also tears you apart when you cannot help blaming the other for making you miserable.
Left with no other choice you strike out on your own once again …. older, wiser and with a little less hope than what had once inhabited your heart. With the re-building blocks now scattered at your feet, eventually you begin to pick each one up, look at it, turn it around and start to assemble a life that has meaning for you, but the hurt you now feel keeps you from shining as brightly as you once had. Try as you might to move on with someone new, you can’t help feeling like you’re damaged goods, incapable of sustaining a relationship that can go the distance, so rather than risk being proven correct, you inadvertently sabotage that which shows promise in hopes of holding onto what remains of the sanity you have left knowing you cannot stand lose at love one more time.
Loneliness is a bitch, but you’ve learned to live with it, and on some level you’ve even managed to make peace with it by finding contentment in doing small things you enjoy doing on your own, but then it happens ….. a song on the radio, a movie or a happy couple dining across the room from you who can’t take their eyes off of one another, and you suddenly feel so alone it’s as if you’re invisible …. or might as well be. You can’t help wondering if your desperate need to hold onto independence as a form of staying focused and strong has cost you far too much in the long run as you lament about the years that have passed you by. On the way home you make a quick stop at the liquor store and pick up that which will keep you company tonight as you vow to shake off all this foolishness by morning.
I have lived a version of this life for far too long, and I don’t wish to do it anymore. No, you cannot go back and rewrite the past, but you can forgive yourself and others for the mistakes you made …. some times out of stubborn pride and at other times out of a need to strike back as a means to stand your ground in an attempt to win the war. Unfortunately there are no victors in lost love, only wounded soldiers whose battle scars can take years to heal. But I have discovered ‘forgiveness’ is the only holy water truly capable of miraculously healing to the point you’re free to love again. So once again it seems ‘love does conquer all’ as I struggle to show compassion for the Ex who once long ago signed all his notes to me with X’s and O’s.
Love can be so powerful at times that it’s capable of bonding two people together as nothing else can, but life is hard and sometimes it takes a toll. Some couples are capable of withstanding the seemingly endless body blows inflicted by pain and strife, while others are not. Others choose to take their frustrations out on those closest to them in hopes of securing some form of relief capable of sustaining them through difficulty until light once again shines down on their lives. But done once too often, the depth of emotion that once bound you as one also tears you apart when you cannot help blaming the other for making you miserable.
Left with no other choice you strike out on your own once again …. older, wiser and with a little less hope than what had once inhabited your heart. With the re-building blocks now scattered at your feet, eventually you begin to pick each one up, look at it, turn it around and start to assemble a life that has meaning for you, but the hurt you now feel keeps you from shining as brightly as you once had. Try as you might to move on with someone new, you can’t help feeling like you’re damaged goods, incapable of sustaining a relationship that can go the distance, so rather than risk being proven correct, you inadvertently sabotage that which shows promise in hopes of holding onto what remains of the sanity you have left knowing you cannot stand lose at love one more time.
Loneliness is a bitch, but you’ve learned to live with it, and on some level you’ve even managed to make peace with it by finding contentment in doing small things you enjoy doing on your own, but then it happens ….. a song on the radio, a movie or a happy couple dining across the room from you who can’t take their eyes off of one another, and you suddenly feel so alone it’s as if you’re invisible …. or might as well be. You can’t help wondering if your desperate need to hold onto independence as a form of staying focused and strong has cost you far too much in the long run as you lament about the years that have passed you by. On the way home you make a quick stop at the liquor store and pick up that which will keep you company tonight as you vow to shake off all this foolishness by morning.
I have lived a version of this life for far too long, and I don’t wish to do it anymore. No, you cannot go back and rewrite the past, but you can forgive yourself and others for the mistakes you made …. some times out of stubborn pride and at other times out of a need to strike back as a means to stand your ground in an attempt to win the war. Unfortunately there are no victors in lost love, only wounded soldiers whose battle scars can take years to heal. But I have discovered ‘forgiveness’ is the only holy water truly capable of miraculously healing to the point you’re free to love again. So once again it seems ‘love does conquer all’ as I struggle to show compassion for the Ex who once long ago signed all his notes to me with X’s and O’s.
May 17, 2014
The Wisdom To Know The Difference ......
I’ve thought a lot about serenity these past twenty-four hours, particularly with respect to intimate relationships. I suppose it all started with a conversation I had with a gentleman yesterday morning. I happened upon an elderly acquaintance I hadn’t seen in sometime, but had actually wondered about just recently. I inquired about how he’d been doing and then happened to ask, “How’s your sweet wife?”
He looked back at me with glassy blue eyes and answered, “Dead.”
Stunned, I inquired as to what had happened, and he related how she was 82 years old and how at that age so many things can go wrong with a body. She had somehow managed to catch an infection, and as a result had to be hospitalized. Over the course of her three week stay, she – like so many elderly – had managed to contract pneumonia and eventually fell into a coma she never managed to wake from.
My friend went on to explain how the doctor had managed to comfort him by saying pneumonia was an ‘old man’s friend’ ….. and how at the end of a life one can simply fall into a deep sleep where there is no pain or confusion, and most of all no suffering until they finally surrender to that walk that will lead them to the other side. With tears in my own eyes, I looked back at him and said, “There’s something poetic about that,” and he agreed. It’s impossible to find the right words to give comfort when you’re staring at a man who’s lost his beloved partner of 49 years. Phrases like ‘time heals all wounds’ and ‘my thoughts and prayers are with you’ seem grossly inadequate, so I looked at him instead and said, “You know you’ll get past this, because so many people already have. Give yourself the proper time and space to grieve, because you have lost something that’s irreplaceable, and in time hopefully God will at least grant you serenity.”
And so it goes ….. I realized yesterday evening that you don’t always have to lose someone to death in order to know they have left you. Occasionally time and circumstances prevail in such a manner that manages to strangle the life out of what you once shared when you realize the promise of a once bright future has diminished into a current reality that has become unbearable. In a desperate attempt to analyze what went wrong or even what you might have done differently in order to have achieved a different result, you come to the conclusion that there doesn’t always have to be a ‘bad guy’ but that it just wasn’t meant to be. The challenge comes when you’re confronted with recognizing the difference, which brings us to the essence of the ‘Serenity Prayer’ …..
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.
Serenity is only possible once you recognize the difference ….. that wanting something so bad is oftentimes not enough to make it happen, but once you gain ‘acceptance’ you can also find the strength to move on.
When love dies it cannot help but leave a void in your life that you instinctively wish to fill up as soon as possible, but to act in haste can only deliver more sadness once you come to terms with the fact some that some voids can never be quite filled, and I know I will get through this, because so many people already have. Life and love often leaves scars, but in time those scars do fade to the point they’re hardly recognizable, and once they do love has the opportunity to blossom and bloom once again.
He looked back at me with glassy blue eyes and answered, “Dead.”
Stunned, I inquired as to what had happened, and he related how she was 82 years old and how at that age so many things can go wrong with a body. She had somehow managed to catch an infection, and as a result had to be hospitalized. Over the course of her three week stay, she – like so many elderly – had managed to contract pneumonia and eventually fell into a coma she never managed to wake from.
My friend went on to explain how the doctor had managed to comfort him by saying pneumonia was an ‘old man’s friend’ ….. and how at the end of a life one can simply fall into a deep sleep where there is no pain or confusion, and most of all no suffering until they finally surrender to that walk that will lead them to the other side. With tears in my own eyes, I looked back at him and said, “There’s something poetic about that,” and he agreed. It’s impossible to find the right words to give comfort when you’re staring at a man who’s lost his beloved partner of 49 years. Phrases like ‘time heals all wounds’ and ‘my thoughts and prayers are with you’ seem grossly inadequate, so I looked at him instead and said, “You know you’ll get past this, because so many people already have. Give yourself the proper time and space to grieve, because you have lost something that’s irreplaceable, and in time hopefully God will at least grant you serenity.”
And so it goes ….. I realized yesterday evening that you don’t always have to lose someone to death in order to know they have left you. Occasionally time and circumstances prevail in such a manner that manages to strangle the life out of what you once shared when you realize the promise of a once bright future has diminished into a current reality that has become unbearable. In a desperate attempt to analyze what went wrong or even what you might have done differently in order to have achieved a different result, you come to the conclusion that there doesn’t always have to be a ‘bad guy’ but that it just wasn’t meant to be. The challenge comes when you’re confronted with recognizing the difference, which brings us to the essence of the ‘Serenity Prayer’ …..
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.
Serenity is only possible once you recognize the difference ….. that wanting something so bad is oftentimes not enough to make it happen, but once you gain ‘acceptance’ you can also find the strength to move on.
When love dies it cannot help but leave a void in your life that you instinctively wish to fill up as soon as possible, but to act in haste can only deliver more sadness once you come to terms with the fact some that some voids can never be quite filled, and I know I will get through this, because so many people already have. Life and love often leaves scars, but in time those scars do fade to the point they’re hardly recognizable, and once they do love has the opportunity to blossom and bloom once again.
A Day In The Life of an Aspiring Author .....
I could talk about my work. In fact I'm more than happy to discuss topics related to my writing as it is my passion. Therefore, if you have a question or comment I beg you to put it forth and you will
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