A day in pictures…
She calls herself fat but to me, according to her photo in the article, she just looks like an attractive woman with brown hair.
The comments on the original article are less than accepting of her choice to care more about her spirit and less about her body. I just cannot wrap my head around why people feel it’s okay to judge another human being just because they choose a different path in life–a path their SPIRIT tells them is better in order to be happy. Happy people tend to be healthier people so I don’t understand the problem here.
One comment stated “It sounds like she just gave up.” Gave up what? Starving herself? Being obsessed with her body? Worrying that Oh My God I might not fit into those size 4 jeans if I eat this slice of pizza?
If you are an athlete or you are into the gym and fitness etc. and doing it in a healthy way that makes your spirit happy, that is fantastic. However, not everyone is into that and believe it or not, even with a few extra pounds in their pants, they are still healthy and happy.
So far, most of the comments have been dictating to her how she’s setting herself up for health problems down the road.
Granted, obesity can cause health issues but so does yoyo dieting, improper nutrition and yes, excessive and compulsive behavior associated with obsessing over your weight and pants size. If she’s happier not working out like an athlete and not starving herself to stay a size 4, that is her choice, just as adult who is naturally thin and eats garbage food all day and leads a sedentary life should not have to answer to anyone’s criticisms.
There is a freedom that washes over your spirit when you let go of the pressure to be something on the outside that you aren’t on the inside. It’s not about giving up. To me, it’s about loving yourself the way you are and taking good care of your spirit.
After all, isn’t that what we always preach? Your spirit is what makes you beautiful, not your pants size, right?
I go through phases where I internalize things and it takes a breakthrough of some kind to pop the cork and allow the pressure to escape in a fountain of liquid bubbles of thoughts and words.
I went to dinner last night with two of my besties. Some words that had been contained for a while escaped but I mostly listened and enjoyed allowing my lovies to share their own feelings and release pressures of their own in their own way. I do share bits and pieces of myself with those intimately close but often my emotions are channeled in basic ways that only the most trusted individuals know and understand.
I often listen to the pressures of others. I am able to allow their troubles to pass through me. I feel their pain, joy and struggles and then most of the emotion scatters like dust in a ray of sunlight, and the words and memory of the conversation remains almost verbatim…if that makes sense. If they only know what they share and how it clings to me like tiny invisible particles of light and darkness that my soul retains.
Without being able to describe exactly what has been happening in my day to day life that has kept me away, I can share the emotion part by saying I’ve been feeling blessed, worried, anxious, frustrated, confused, concerned, hopeful and loved. Strange combinations of things from day to day. But isn’t that what living is all about?
I don’t expect to be happy all of the time. I don’t expect to feel content or unsettled either. I do believe though that this bottle of bubbles is due to my inability lately to write as much as I normally do. I’ve been so busy out in the real world that I haven’t had the time to focus and write that I have had in recent months. Book launch, marketing, brain storming and life’s usual callings have whittled down those precious hours.
Writers have to write or they’ll go crazy. We have to pop that cork and pour out our soul into a glass. We have to raise the glass and watch the bubbles rise and swirl around until we tip them to our lips and swallow them down again…one sip at a time. They become something else. They liquefy and settle and become clear until we’re drunk on all of the feelings and can finally put them in the right order to where they make sense…and we give it all to total strangers who over the course of thousands of words FINALLY give us the true release.
That’s when the story gets told. That’s where the tears and the laughter live. The circumstances that created the pressure and bubbles, fade away and all we’re left with are how those incidents made us feel and why we bottled them up to begin with.
Then, they become someone else’s feelings–someone else’s woes and triumphs and failures. We pour them into words and create worlds where those feelings can run free and be expressed without having to put a cork in them and then we hand them out into the world in hopes that the world will accept them.
…and when the bottle is empty…we fill it again.
Although I am 95% happy and proud of it, it’s taken me a long time to reach this place and the path to get here was made up of good choices, good people and a positive attitude about my life. I have certain expectations and I do my best to hold true to them. This path was also made up of avoiding as well as ridding myself of things and people who I knew would bring me down. Unfortunately though, we don’t always have control over who comes into our lives but we do have the ability to manage the relationship in a way we can live with…or…we lay down the law and boundaries required for us to exist in the same universe with said other person. That is until you just can’t hold back anymore.
My strongest dark emotions are born of wanting to protect those I love aka the lioness. She is the spirit of my temper.
However, it takes me a while to reach the level of anger to finally speak my mind. It’s draining and I don’t know how people stay angry all of the time.
I normally do not beat about the bush. I’ve developed the ability to express my dissatisfaction in a way that is virtually painless but at the same time, I’ve definitely gotten my point across. Most people who know me, know this and they appreciate the fact that I don’t waste their time. I appreciate the same in return and have whittled my circle of friends down to those who give me the same respect and honesty I give them. They don’t judge me for my past, they praise me for how far I’ve come and we accept each other for who we are.
But then there are the sometimes. Sometimes, I get tired and fed up and disgusted with others’ behavior and unfortunately, that little voice inside me grows until I can no longer hold it in. Don’t come at me with the same issues repeatedly when you refuse to take the steps necessary to release yourself from situations that you allow to cause you grief. Don’t come at me with lies, threats, innuendo and flat out bullshit either. I can see it from a mile away.
Everyone has a limit to their patience…even me.
When I finally speak up, it is beyond warranted and the target of my wrath has had it coming for quite some time. They have most likely even been warned. Then in an an instant–an instant of their own denial that I won’t release the Kraken…
I am probably one of the nicest, most accommodating, loving, caring and understanding people you could ever meet, which is why I think when I reach that point, it has taken a great deal of whipping to get me there. You damn near have to turn me inside out to get me to this place. However, if you are holding the whip and I’ve had enough, rest assured the sting I will inflict in return will be far worse.
I have a lot of experience and absolutely no fear.
We’ve all lived through tragedy, pain and heartbreak and come out the other side stronger than before. Some of us have come out of it with a deeper and darker understanding of life and of our worst traits and abilities. Once we embrace them and understand that those dark places are just as important as the light ones and that they are necessary to preserve our survival, we’ve finally reached that place where we accept all of ourselves and not just the pretty things.
You don’t have to live in that dark hole and it’s best not to go in there unless you absolutely have no other choice but make no mistake, it’s there for a reason.
Although I’m disappointed I cannot attend the ceremony in Florida due to financial constraints, this gorgeous baby takes the sting out if it.
Thank you Kitty and Ravenswood/Gmta for believing in my book and thank you Readers’ Favorite for choosing it for the Silver Medal in Paranormal Fiction!
Most of all, thank you everyone who read my book and continue to support my dreams every single day!
This morning on my break I was on what I call a Twitter thank you binge. What I do is instead of just sharing someone’s Twitter handle with the words thank you or just their Twitter handle saying “follow this great person” or something of the like, I Tweet their profile blurb.
So as I’m going through my newest followers, I come upon the most amazing and mind blowing thing!
I didn’t even know he had a Twitter account.
I didn’t know he had an Etsy.
I didn’t know he had a Facebook.
All I knew was his art is so moving and colorful and it pulls you in and lights up your heart.
I’m proud to share with you, the amazing…
Here is the painting from my desktop:
The young man in this video is a hero.
8/19/14 BALTIMORE – A man is in critical but stable condition after being stabbed and robbed Sunday morning in Federal Hill.
Baltimore police said at approximately 4:24 a.m. officers were called to the 1200 block of Wall Street in reference to a stabbing. The officers located the 24-year-old victim who was suffering from multiple stab wounds. He was then transported to an area hospital.
Police said the victim was attacked by four males between the ages of 16 and 18 who had been riding on mopeds. One of the suspects approached the victim, assaulted him, took his wallet and personal belongings, police said.
He’s home from the hospital and has a message for us all: