Sometimes I like to put on headphones without actually listening to any music. This is a trick that I learned recently. I’m wearing headphones now in fact. The studio grade kind that have all of the cushiness that covers the whole ear.
A few minutes ago, I had Florence and the Machine cranked up, but now she has stopped her beautiful somber songs. And all I hear is “thump thump. thump thump. thump thump.” The steady beat of my heart.
I was sitting on the front porch of my parents’ house one summer day a couple of years ago as my dad sat next to me on the top step talking. I am one of those people that holds to the idea of “Do NOT discuss religion. Do NOT discuss politics.” But, considering my background, religion is one of those things that I find being discussed quite frequently. The noises about it whipping around my ears like a cold winter wind.
I had tuned my dad out and was focusing on how the shadows of the leaves were splayed across the front walkway with pools of sun surrounding them. More of the same religious ideas or “truths” that they’d tried to spoon feed me when I was a child. The same ideas they tried to force feed me by the time I was a youth. Suddenly I heard him say, “Music. Music is your religion, huh?”
Looking at him sideways, almost hesitant to say it… “I don’t need religion. It’s more like my spirituality. I can’t live without it.”
Thump thump. Thump thump. I’ll turn the music up again shortly, but for right now, I’m content to listen to the music of my heart.
I’ve found myself in a situation that I said I wouldn’t be in again for a very long time. I’m in a relationship. *smacks forehead* And I have been now for a year. A year, 24 days, 13 hours, 32 minutes… Ok, I don’t know all of that, so a year will suffice.
After my 10 year relationship, marriage, and ultimately a divorce, came to an ugly end, I found myself repeatedly saying to myself, “I will NEVER.” or as my sissy likes to say, “Neva.” This proclamation encompassed many things. “I will never let anyone hurt my feelings again.” “I will never let anyone else make me unhappy”, “I will neva clean up after or wash a man’s underwear and socks.” And the list goes on.
Because of my many “NEVA“‘s… my hand is twitchy. It wants to reach for the door and my mind wants to scream at me “Run, Forest!” There are plenty of times that I find myself wanting to dissect everything that a man says or does, and I don’t even feel like I look for negatives. They just pop up like I’m playing a game of bobbing for apples. And I know I’m hypersensitive. I’ve just become so jaded.
One of my greatest strengths, as well as one of my greatest weaknesses, is I can love. I can love hard. Then I’ll find that I’m irritated with myself for being able to give that fully and completely. Like I shouldn’t give that much of myself and I should hold some of it back. Then I brace myself against possible hurts, and I let my heart stay calloused.
I find fault in my boyfriend’s actions and words. Sure, there is plenty that he says and does that I’ve felt I’m within my rights of being irritated or pissed off, because after all he is a man, but on the other hand I want to condemn him and be harsh and cruel because of things that have been done to me in the past. I ask myself if he’s going to change enough that I’m totally happy. No. He won’t. I know the answer. And it’s not his fault. I know that the change is mine to make. I know that I can not continue to punish for the times that I’ve been hurt.
“Change the way you look at things and the things you look at change.”
― Wayne W. Dyer
The Bicentennial State Park
POW- Infantry Museum
Me and Israel- My boyfriends son just graduated bootcamp. He’s so excited.:)
My Grandmother and grandfather He served in the military as an army sergeant and even had purple hearts. What an amazing man, and a wonderful couple. I miss him so much.
Thank You, Troops!
I set up my WordPress page weeks ago. And every so often since then, I’ve logged on and just stared at the blank page with only one simple title “Hello World!“. Finally I got tired of looking at that title and I deleted it.
I would stare at those words. They seemed to get bigger and bigger on that blank page. And I watched them like a hard shell crab watching an exacto knife coming closer and closer to cut me open.
I smile and grin every day, shining my light on everyone around me, as I feel the grey shadow of who I used to be spreading across my sleeping soul.
But… I will do what that sleeping soul dreams about in its slumber. I will do what I ache to do. I will set aside my fear. I will write.