It has been a very long time since I’ve written anything publicly, but today, a status I wrote and shared on Facebook last year showed up during an Instagram scroll and I felt it heavy on my heart to come share. As I was preparing to write, “you are changing everything” started playing in my mind, so I am also sharing that song after the post! It’s “I am Loved” by Mack Brock, and it’s really a beautiful song. Music is such a gift, and I am truly thankful I am able to hear and I did not lose the ability in my stroke. Anyway, let me move on to the post I know I need to share here on a bigger platform. Please feel free to share it with the next person if you feel inclined to do so.
I wrote this on June 20, 2020 and it seems even more relevant today than it did then! That’s how I receive messages and epiphanies, though. I will write them in the moment when they’re pressing on my spirit, but it seems like they grow in strength over time and the next time I see it is the right time for me to see it. Reading these “on my spirit” posts is really like recognizing my past self is always looking out for my future self. Divine timing, indeed. Alright, here goes!
New blessings are on the way, but they can’t exist where they don’t have space to exist. Do some inventory, clean up and clear out space for what wants to come in.
Give yourself space. Nurture. Get out in nature and just observe a while. Watch the cycle of life through a day, because it is a microcosm of the macrocosm that is us. Take notes, everything is cyclical.
Slow down, don’t be in a rush to go nowhere fast. Direction matters as much as the destination. Move with purpose, but first, just be. Just be, life is not always about doing, going, moving, producing, seeing results in real time.
Nothing can grow when it’s in the wrong environment, and flowers don’t bloom where you don’t plant seeds and tend to the garden. Know this, remember this, act with this in mind, and prepare the space. Literally, figuratively, you know what this means to you.
This is personal. This is private. This is self care, self love, soul work, from the very root. This is foundational, and this is a fresh start. You deserve this, so allow it. Act in ways that align with that’s already yours, even if you don’t see it yet. Your examination, movement, reflection and thoughts are an energy exchange and the world moves when you move. Trust.
Let it flow. Let yourself feel, because you are human and you are whole. You are safe. Wholeness functions holistically and in a balanced system. You have to balance the scales to be at your best. When you are at your personal best so is all around you.
Do not block your blessings. Review. Release so you are able to receive. Believe in what you achieve because it already believes in you. Name it and claim it, because it’s already yours.
There you are! I hope this message speaks to someone today, or whenever you come across it. I named this post “welcome” because that’s the first word that jumped to my mind when I reflected on this sharing this post. It’s time to welcome what and who is truly for you, and be bold and courageous to create space for the new. Move forward in faith and leave fear behind. I know it isn’t easy, but it is worth it. The price of peace in your heart and soul are priceless and that alone should give you strength to do what you need to do and go where you need to go. That’s the hope I wish for you to take away from this post when you read it.
The tens taught me the lesson of how to survive. The twenties will teach me the lesson of how to thrive.
What a decade, y’all! I’m sitting here writing this but I don’t even know if I have enough words to express what the last ten years have been like for me. First, I’m grateful for all things. I know approaching life from a place of gratitude opens the doors for more gratitude to flow in. In spite of every obstacle against me, in spite of every loss, in spite of every dark day, I persevered and I survived. I lived in a sowing season, and now it’s time to reap.
I learned more life lessons in ten years than I’ve learned in the entirety of my 32 years, and I know there’s a purpose in the pain even if it hurt (and sometimes still does) like hell. I learned how to lose gracefully and still ignite a spark of hope within, because keeping the flame alive provides light for the path I travel. I learned we are souls and our bodies are the vessels in which we reside. We are essence and energy and we exist here to learn. It’s not about what we get, but it’s all about what we give. Wealth isn’t only about money or material things, wealth is having peace within yourself, regardless of what’s going on around you, and that’s something no salary could ever give you. Be and stay true to you and claim that abundance.
I learned I give light, I give encouragement, I give fire and a passion for anything and anyone that matters to me. I learned my father raised me well, and my siblings and I are, without a doubt, carrying his legacy with us. I am so thankful for all of the time I had with him, because he established a foundation for us to only go up.
If things don’t feel good, find some good in it. If you can’t find the good, create something good and focus on that. I understand pain down to the very core of the soul, but I also understand purpose. Not everything that happens to you is about you. Sometimes things happen solely because we need to have our story to share, and we can’t empathize if we haven’t traveled that path. I did that. My stroke made sure of it, because not only did I face my own mortality at 24 years old, I had to begin a “new normal” I was not ready to start. It was very much do or die, and I chose to do, even if some days I felt like I might die.
I am petite, but I am also a powerhouse and nothing or no one will stop me once my mind is made up. I will stand, even if I stand alone. I will speak, I will use my voice and I will listen. I will help other stroke survivors (and those who love them) traveling down this path, because I’ve been there done that and have the scars to show it. I remember feeling like I was in a foreign land without a compass, guide or map. I remember being absolutely terrified that I would “just suddenly die” because I was no longer within the four walls of UT Southwestern. I remember the isolation, difficulty accepting or understanding, and devastation of watching everything I thought I knew, all I thought I would have, and everyone I thought knew me, just disappear literally overnight. There are no words I can share to express this type of pain, and I can feel the swelling in my chest as I write this, because I know I do not want anyone to suffer in that place by themselves. I am here because I’m supposed to be here. I am here for you, and I am thankful I’m able to communicate.
I’ve said it before, but had the stroke taken place in the same lobes, but on the left side of my brain, it’s very likely I could’ve lost my ability to speak or understand words at all. It’s due to aphasia, and the thought of it makes me want to cry. I remember having some issues with language early on in my recovery and that’s what showed my dad something actually did change. Some days I still have slip ups with using the correct word but the wrong way. For instance, I would write “I can here you” or something like that, but I meant “hear.” It’s actually kind of scary to experience, because you know what’s right, but your brain literally doesn’t function well enough to notice it or correct it. I will be “eight years old” in my new normal, in February and I still have days where my processing of language is slower. There is such an odd feeling of being trapped inside your own body and knowing what you know you know, but not being able to express it. It’s really quite alarming, and I just know if I can help even one person know this could be one deficit they have because of their stroke, then my own suffering is totally worth it.
Eight years is a long time, but not in the “new normal.” Life is different now, but life is still good. Some things have stayed the same, while some things have changed. One constant, though, is how I process sound. When too many people are speaking at once, my brain still processes the words as a foreign language. I don’t even know how to explain it, but even if I know they’re speaking English, my brain cannot make sense of the different sounds, so it just jumbles everything up. I can handle it a bit easier now, but it’s very tiring (in a neurological fatigue way) to me if I have to be in a loud-chaotic environment with too much noise at once. I have developed really good boundaries with myself and with others, and that helps me to keep moving forward! The more tired I am, the less I can handle, so I will just shut down or shut off. Usually this means putting on headphones, but I will also leave a place if I need to, because I know once I start flooding, it won’t be long before I become extremely irritable and/or a migraine develops.
Speaking of migraines, I know what it’s like to feel so bad, you really do wish you could just pull your head off of your body and get a new head. Thankfully I am well controlled now, thanks to Aimovig, but I do still have “bad brain days.” On those days, I just have to shut down because I can’t focus or function and I don’t want to be mean to people or myself. I have to be quiet and be in the quiet.
Quiet. That’s how the majority of my year was, last year. I spent nine months just trying to process what actually happened (graduating college with honors is a big deal and even more so when you did it with an acquired brain injury, after an eight year break from the first time you went to school) in the four years prior, and since I had time to just be, everything came rushing in. I had to process that I really did do it, I really did keep that promise to myself and my dad, that I would finish school and I would graduate with honors. Sometimes it still shocks me, because it seems so surreal but it really happened! I am so proud of myself and I know this is only beginning.
In the quiet, I had to process the death of my dad and since I knew I wasn’t handling it so well but I didn’t want to turn to an unhealthy coping mechanism, I chose to get back into therapy. I have a great psychologist and she has helped me so much. I learned about delayed grief and I turned back to writing (not publicly) to help me express what I was feeling and get it out. I had to be still, so really even though it was not easy, it was necessary that I did not immediately start working like I’d planned to do. None of my job interviews (if I even got to that point) resulted in an offer and I was so upset for so long. However, one day when I got tired of being tired, I told myself to to step back and think of what did happen. I did get back into therapy, I did make myself an exercise regimen I could stick to, I did spend time reading and reflection of what is still good. I needed that stillness. Just because it doesn’t look like anything is happening doesn’t mean nothing is happening, it means you can’t see it externally yet, but the change and growth is happening within. That is a major lesson and it’s one I will carry with me for as long as I live.
I learned it’s okay not to be okay. I learned you can go there, but don’t stay there. “There” being wherever you go to feel whatever you feel, and just letting yourself be there and feel it. That’s okay, it means you are being true to yourself and allowing yourself to go through the cycle. Do not let it stop you from living your life, though. If you’re still here, you’ve still got purpose, and you need to trust in that. Find some way to release it and be kind to yourself, because you’re always a work in progress.
The tens taught me how to survive. The twenties are going to teach me how to thrive. I release the past decade in gratitude, standing strong in my power and following the path of purpose. I give thanks for all that was. I welcome this new decade with an open heart, and give thanks for all that is and all that will be.
The lesson lately has been “keep going, keep growing” and that’s exactly what I intend to do. I am blessed to be here and I am excited to see what “all good things” looks like, lived out. I welcome balance and peace as I continue to move forward in this life of mine. I can feel this hope deep inside of my soul, it makes my body feel electric and I know it’s because there is greater and there this more ahead. All that was lost is not a loss, and there is a lesson to be learned, regardless.
If you’re reading this, I hope you’re doing and feeling well, wherever you are. I hope you have a great new year and always remember to keep the faith, keep the fight.
That’s the lesson our dad taught us, just by how he lived. Growing up, he’d give us life lessons in bite sized pieces and they definitely stuck. One of the main lessons was, “don’t do wrong and expect things to work out,” followed closely by “make good choices.” He’d say “college, knowledge, dollars,” and constantly stress the importance of education and the power it brings with it. Our dad truly was, still is, and will forever be a great gift. I know my siblings and I give thanks for him everyday, and I love how much the three of us really are like him in so many ways, even if we are our own people. I absolutely would not be where I am or who I am without my brother and sister, either. I’m glad our dad constantly told us to have one another’s back, because we’ve leaned heavily on one another the past four years.
Four years ago today, my siblings and I lost our dad very suddenly and unexpectedly to a heart attack. I will never forget this day as long as I live, because I was the one who called the ambulance to report he was deceased. I found him early in the morning, around 7:30 a.m., and my entire life changed in that moment. Again. I don’t know how I did it, but I kept calm. “You’re so calm,” remarked the police chief (as well as one of the detectives) who came out to the house. I told each of them I was honestly trying not to panic because I didn’t know how my brain would react. I’d already had a “surprise seizure” just two years earlier (out of nowhere), and I didn’t want to have another one triggered by stress. I knew I couldn’t panic because I had to be there for my brother and sister, and someone had to speak for our dad. That someone was me. As the oldest sister and the one who was present when/where he passed, I had to step up and get to work. My main concern that day was making sure I was handling the business of death and speaking up about/for our dad, informing our family, and then taking care of my brother and sister.
In easily one of the most difficult days of my life, I managed to hold it all together when my inside was shattering. I was so broken, but I also knew what my dad would want from me and for me. He would want me to find peace wherever I could, and keep my head up. For me, that means getting to work. I immediately went into business mode. As much as death (especially suddenly) is emotional and painful, it is also a business, and settling an estate is not easy. It’s exhausting, dark, heavy. It complicates grief because you can’t even focus on hurt when you have to get all of these things done.
I remember the coroner asked us if we’d like to see our dad before they took him to the morgue and sent his body out for an autopsy and at first I said no. My sister said yes, but then I felt like I should just be beside her when she saw him. Looking at him, he looked so peaceful, he honestly just looked like he fell asleep. That was the day I realized how much of life is about a person’s energy and essence. It’s what they do while they’re alive, that makes them who they are. Bodies are truly just shells, vessels to carry the spirit through this world. I can’t explain it, maybe some of you have experienced it, but when someone passes away, everything that made them “them,” passes away too. It was a profound lesson to learn on that gray, cool Easter day, because it impacted how I want to live while I have time left. Our father left a legacy through us, and I am so grateful for it!
I made my dad three promises, and I am three for three. I finished school like I promised him I would, and that was one of his greatest hopes because he believed so strongly in knowledge and using what you know well. Although he did not go to college, he was honestly one of the smartest men I’ve ever met. He read so much, he would quiz us on current events and life in general, but his emotional intelligence was incredible. We have definitely inherited sensitivity and the wisdom to reach others using intuition, from him and our mom. Our dad was just so mellow and cool, but if he said it, he meant it. I say something, I mean it, and I wouldn’t have promised him I would finish school if I didn’t plan on seeing it through. What made it so difficult though, is my dad is the one who was so invested in my education and health. He and I would sit and talk for hours, every week, and he never once failed to ask me about what I was learning and how I felt, forcing me to take a break if I felt too overwhelmed. That’s why, when I didn’t get into the radiology program in Fall 2015 for the Spring 2016 class, I was beyond upset. I was actually irate and strongly considered quitting school because at that point, I felt like I’d lost everything in just six months. Right after I kind of found solid ground again for the first time (post-stroke and living a “new normal” with an acquired brain injury) in three years. I was so done, y’all. Just mentally done and so, so, so angry.
Not only had I spent the past two years working toward getting into this program, but I just lost my dad six months before I found out I didn’t get in! I was already tired trying to get through school with a brain injury, my program was difficult, I really wanted in, and RADS was something my dad and I both could see me doing. I wanted to hold true to exactly what I said I’d do. I wanted to be working in neuroradiology, helping save the lives of people “like me,” and understand what actually happened to me, from a medical perspective. That was one way I’d give back since a CT scan helped save my life. But no, now my academic dream came crashing down, and I didn’t even have my dad to listen and help me sort it all out. I was truly angry. The thing is, some of my best decisions come out of me being angry. I can’t explain it, but anger really motivates me to push harder even though I’m exhausted and don’t know exactly what to do. So, I talked to some trusted friends and advisors, made my decision and changed my major within a couple of weeks. I was pissed about having to change direction, but I was determined to still graduate and do something I love. I’ve graduated, but it was not easy to graduate without my dad being there to cheer me on. He would’ve loved to celebrate me and my work, and that’s why it meant so much to me that my sister decorated the inside of my cap the way she did! I’m still determined to use my degree in a way to help those “like me,” raise awareness and advocate for those with brain injuries, stroke survivors, invisible illnesses. I’m not sure how I’m going to do it, but I’m going to do it. Mark my words. :)
I miss my dad every single day and there’s really not a day that goes by I don’t think about him. I need him more now than I did when I was younger, because he’s the one who would sit with me and help me find some calm in the chaos. If I didn’t know what to do and was stuck making a decision, I could take it all to him, dump it out and he would somehow sort it all into neat packages, give them to me, and tell me to “make good choices.” I could really use his help right now as I wait in this limbo state, trying to figure out exactly where I want my career to go. It’s difficult with a brain injury because I still struggle in a lot of ways, and I know how much I struggled when I went back to work in 2012. School was also difficult for me with this invisible (yet very real) injury, too, and I got through by pushing myself because it’d be too easy to just quit and I want to use what happened to me for a higher purpose than just having a story to tell. I just try to think of what he would tell me and how he’d want me to have peace and truth in my decision, and that helps a little bit. Our dad was all about “be true to you,” and living in the authenticity of who you are. When you are at peace with yourself and real with yourself, then and only then, can you be real with the world around you. You have to be who you are, not who the world expects you to be. That’s a lesson I’m beyond grateful for, because the world will try its damnedest to destroy you, and it’s inevitable that life throws some curveballs in your carefully laid plans.
I’m taking my time to be quiet and listen. I’m being patient and I’m absolutely dedicated to being true to me, because that’s how I was raised. I don’t like waiting, but I don’t have to like it to get it done. My life is different now and I have to be discriminating in how and where I spend my energy, as it’s limited. I only want to give the best I’ve got and I can’t do that when I’m not being true to me, or tired from doing too much. I don’t have to, and that’s something our dad left with me. He was so set in his routine and he knew himself so well it didn’t matter what anyone else thought of him. My siblings and I are very much like him that way. We just, do what we have to do, and that’s that. It’s refreshing, honestly. It won’t be this way forever and it’s just a season. Besides, I can sense a shift in energy and I know things will be looking up for me soon.
As much as I miss him, I give thanks I ever had a father to miss. Not everyone is so fortunate to have a father who is truly invested in their lives. My siblings and I definitely had a dad who was active, involved and present, and we are better for it. I don’t say that to say we are better than anyone else, nor do we think that way. I say it to acknowledge who our dad was and how much he impacted our lives while he was here as well as the legacy he left us, that we carry on. We are all living our lives as we were raised to do, and we definitely stick together no matter where in the world we are. I really mean it when I say we’re like a braid of three different colored strands, woven together. Stronger together and different, but unified. They are two of the greatest gifts of my life! I’m really proud of us and I know our dad would be so proud of us! That’s what keeps me going.
I’m still working through my grief (it’s not a linear process nor is there a timeline) because I didn’t focus much on my feelings, since I knew I had to handle my business and finish school. Haha just typing that made me hear my dad saying, “handle your business!” This is the first year since my stroke I’m not working or in school, and I have all this time to actually work through these tough emotions. It’s not easy or pretty, but it’s real and because I’m me, I’m going to be honest! It never gets easier, I think I just learn how to manage it better as time goes by. Having some close friends who also lost their dads in their 20s, as well as therapy and a strong support system has helped. I’m very thankful for everyone who has supported my siblings and me throughout the passing of our dad! It means so much to us.
I am a very sentimental person, so pictures mean a lot to me. These pictures are some of my favorites from over the years.
100% a daddy’s girl from the beginning! :)
February 14, 2015. The last picture of our dad. This was so funny because our cousins were visiting from D.C. (whom we hadn’t seen in years at that point) and my dad did not believe me they were coming to see us.
He thought I was joking and told me “Man, Rob, don’t play with me!” I tried to tell him I was serious and just to wait and see, but since he had to go to work that night, he told me to leave him alone and let him rest. Haha I just said “okay dad, you’ll see,” and walked out of his room. He was so happy and surprised when they showed up! I’ll never forget it! :)One of the verses we had at our dad’s memorial. When we thought of the life he lived and a verse that might capsulize what our dad lived for, this is the one. It’s also why I chose “do good, live well” for my graduation cap. That’s essentially how we were raised by our parents, and was our dad’s main goal to teach us.I shared this photo on Instagram on Father’s Day 2015 with the caption: “The urn in which my father’s body now resides. Part of his spirit lives on through me and my siblings, and all of the lessons he gave us. Gone but never forgotten.” Just showing my cremain (urn necklace) jewelry on my dad’s birthday, 2018. I wear the necklace when I want to feel closer to him and/or take him with me. I chose the infinity because it looks like the number eight, which was his birth month and date, and he gave me love that will live on forever.These two! Oh, how I love them so much! The three of us are so different but also so much alike. I like to say we’re like a braid of three different colored strands, entwined together. I have no idea what we were laughing at, but it had to be something funny. It was probably something Kevin said and Kayla just happened to get the right moment.
I give thanks for them every single day and I’m grateful I’ve had them to walk through this journey together.
Life is so fragile and strange, but it is also beautiful. I have to rest in that knowledge and live with that belief everyday, regardless of what’s going on around me. I have to find it within myself to keep going, regardless of what’s happening without. I was raised very well and I choose to live like it. So much has changed, so much lost, but also so much gained. I give thanks for perspective and eyes that still see the good. Our dad gave us that ability and it’s a gift in life. For this, I will forever give thanks for the gift our my father, even though he’s gone Home.
May he continue to race in peace.
If you knew our dad, you know he loved Tupac. Right as I typed the last sentence, “you are appreciated” started playing on my phone. Haha what a sign! I’m listening, and I give thanks! KARs will always be appreciated. :)
Every once in a while, I will read a book that grasps my heart and won’t let go. I took a chance on The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein, after reading positive reviews and a synopsis on a forum earlier this week while hunting for new literature. You see, as much as I love to write, I love to read. I began reading on my own at the age of three and I haven’t really slowed down much since. For me, reading is such an escape and it gives me time to reflect and think.
While school is in session, most of my reading is strictly for school. During this winter break, however, I just wanted to read something for leisure. I love dogs, love cars, and love “feel good” stories, so I thought “well, it can’t hurt, right?” I downloaded The Art of Racing in the Rain to my Kindle app on 12/22, began reading early in the morning on 12/24, and I just finished it a bit after noon today. I’m glad that this was one of my Christmas gift purchases to myself from myself, because it inspired a new hope in my heart. Amazon and I have quite the connection, as much money as I spend on there just for books! Haha, I love it though!
Without giving too much away, The Art of Racing in the Rain tells the tale of a family from the viewpoint of their lab-terrier mix, Enzo. I haven’t ever read a book that is narrated by a dog, but if there is another one out there, I hope it is as well written as this book is! I have read so many books, but this one is easily in my top ten. The Giver by Lois Lowry is probably my favorite book of all time, but I know there are so many more books to be read. In the meantime, though, my heart is satisfied with this.
I did some research and found out that there are plans to turn The Art of Racing in the Rain into a movie. If it is true, I hope they do justice by the book. Often times, I’m disappointed with movies based on novels, because they just don’t live up to the books. I would be really upset if any details were left out, because they truly add to the plot line. This book was so charming, at times raw, and really warming. Grab your tissues if you do choose to read it, because it tugs at the heart strings. I know this is a book that I can go back to just for inspiration, and I always appreciate that from a book.
Hope that you are all doing and feeling well, wherever you are! I’m having a rough week with a nasty barometric pressure migraine, so I’m just lying low today, but still enjoying Christmas in my own way. Coffee, a warm bed, and a good book. It’s well enough for me. :)
Keep the faith, keep the fight! Merry Christmas to you and yours, and God bless!
Thank you. From the bottom of my heart (from the four of us), thank you so much for raising us. You didn’t just let us grow up, you raised us. You invested into us, loved us, corrected us, and redirected us. You allowed us each the space to be exactly who we are, but also set a foundation of core values that have sustained us and are more apparent to me now that I’m older and grasping just how different people are.
I have been thinking a lot these past few weeks on society, lack of morality and values, and the differences between people who grow up and people who are raised. Truthfully, the general public has made me question a lot and I made the connection that it all starts at home. I have said it in my mind so many times, but the dissolution of family is an atrocity. I believe that wholeheartedly. Family can look differently, but it’s very important to have a parent (or parents) who really do nourish their child(ren). Now more than ever in a society that seems to have its moral fibers barely stitched together by a thread, it is vital to make sure you’re parenting well.
It’s one thing to tell a person what to do, but an entirely different thing to shape them into who they are. Of course it’s up to the person to do what he/she wants to do, but when you build them into someone, they tend to carry that identity wherever they go.
You both did your part in weaving our moral fibers and now we are so well stitched together that it carries over into every aspect of our lives. Mom, you made sure that we were in church from the time we were very little and that opened our young eyes and hearts to the faith that has carried me several times. Thank you! Dad, you may not have taken us to church, but you have instilled plenty of wisdom through your one-liners that still echo in my head and I’m nearly 27! Haha. I will never forget them! Thank you!
“Stand for something, or fall for anything.”
“Don’t do wrong and expect things to work out right.” “Make good choices.” “Don’t start it, don’t take it.” “Watch what’s going on around you.” “Stand for something, even if you stand alone.”
You are both of different temperaments, but you also have both somehow passed on the “feeler” gene. I don’t even know how to put it into words, but it’s that gut feeling that is so strong in all four of us. Highly intuitive, I guess. We “just know.” We are all four different personalities and beings as your children, but we all “just know,” and it’s usually accurate. It’s so weird, but I love it and I love knowing that I can go to my parents and siblings with something or someone and they too can be honest with their thoughts/feelings on a situation so that I know it’s not just me jumping to a premature conclusion. This feeling has saved me from several situations that could have gone terribly wrong and every time I have doubted it, I have paid for it. I have learned now to just trust the feeling in my spirit because it’s there for a reason.
I know that it wasn’t always easy to raise two boys and two girls, I know I had plenty of medical issues as a child (and even as I’ve grown up) that would stress y’all out, I know we weren’t always the most well-behaved or that we didn’t always give you the respect you deserve, but I definitely know that I am so grateful for your parenting skills. So grateful, so blessed to have parents who really do care, really do invest, and still look out for our well-being and best interests although we’re all young adults now. I’m by no means saying we are perfect people, because we are all flawed, but you each gave us a pretty good start on how to live a good life just by being a good person overall.
Thank you for allowing each of us to develop our individual selves but also making sure we stay true to who we are, who we were raised to be, who we are called to be, and who we can become. I have watched too many people try to be too many people (because they don’t know who they are) and they lose grasp and sight of who they truly are. That’s a surefire way to end up compromising yourself for a pseudo existence. I don’t want that, and I’m glad you never encouraged that. We were raised in a house that was very persistent on knowing who you are and not apologizing for being true to ourselves. That matters. A lot. You taught us to love well and accept all people, but not to depend on them for validation or definition of self. Who I am is not dependent on who’s around me, where I am, but what’s within me. Thank you!!! Emotional security is more important now than ever as I’m still recovering, still fighting my neurological battle, still learning this “new normal.” As a young woman in this world and time where everything seems to be constantly morphing, it means everything to me to have a core that is well-developed so that even though everything I know, thought I knew, lost, gained, I am secure enough to know who I am and not change. I have you both to thank for that!
We did not have a perfect childhood or perfect family, but we do have love, authenticity, honesty, faith, laughter, a solid foundation, and that is something that I wish to pass on to my own family, should I be blessed with my own someday. Our home was filled with an interesting blend and balance of honesty and sensitivity. We may not have always seemed like we were listening, but we were absorbing everything and much of it has influenced who I am today.
Thank you for not giving us everything we wanted, but much of it. Thank you for giving us the things that we need, and something that actually lasts an entire lifetime, by giving us a good foundation. Thank you for both being in our lives, day in and day out, in the same household. You taught us to be kind but be honest, use manners, treat people the way you want to be treated, work hard but know when to rest, gain knowledge, be sensitive but strong, love well. We learned by watching you, thank you for the examples.
Thank you so much, dad and mom. You are both awesome people and I love you both so much!!!
When you enter this world, you are given a name, and when you leave this world, you take your name with you. I hope we all carry our names as well as you have trained us to. I love you, thank you.
Canvas painting I made on June 19, 2013 during a moment of creative expression. :)
“What’s the story behind it?” “It doesn’t have a story,” was my response to my friend’s curiosity.
However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I chose each color for a specific reason. Time for some introspection! I was feeling very creative yesterday morning, it was cloudy and calm outside, I just wanted to paint something, anything at all, and this was the result. I had been staring at the blank white canvas when I thought about just painting how I feel. I used different shades of blue, a grey, yellow, and white. Why, though? Well… The different shades of blue are representative of the depths of the ocean that is brain injury.
The deeper shades of blue and grey represent the vastness and murkiness of the waters in which I sometimes feel I am drowning. The light blue represents the times where life seems almost normal again, and the pain doesn’t touch as deeply. Like shallow waters. The yellow is representative of the light that is always to be found, even in the midst of deep, inexplicable pain. The white is my favorite part, though, because it represents faith. Faith is what has been carrying me through this. A life jacket of sorts. Faith surrounds everything and circumstance in this ordeal. Faith surrounds my life and I cannot explain it, you either have it or you do not. Faith is the foundation of this painting (that’s why it’s at the base of the picture) and it is in between every shade of emotion I experience. It was painted in an abstract fashion because this entire brain aneurysm/brain injury/”new normal” lifestyle has no direction. It is every way and no way, all at once. It makes little sense, just like most abstract pictures seem to have no rhyme or reason. It is abstract because I feel (even more) abstract, now. No matter what I feel, though, faith is still present.
Faith surrounds it all. That’s the story behind it.
:) I think the writer’s block has finally decided to make its exit. I will hopefully be back with some “meat and potatoes” for y’all, soon! It just takes a lot of (mental) energy for me to write. I have to be in the right mental space… Literally a “get your head in the game” kind of process when I write! I do hope that you are all doing (and feeling) well, wherever you may be!!!
In my last post, I mentioned that ten months out, I feel healthy. This morning, I was lurking Twitter under the hashtag #fitspo which is where I found plenty of fitness accounts of people who are trying their best to change their bodies, one meal, one protein shake, one workout at a time! I love that. I do not, however, love this “thigh gap” business. Nor do I love the “hip dip” issue many people (mostly women) seem to have. What in the world? Stop it!! You are beautiful! Victoria’s Secret fashion shows might be fun, but man do they mess up some perceptions of reality for some women. It’s sad, and kind of sickening.
Psalm 139:13-16 reads (NIV) “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.”
That means, stop obsessing about what you don’t look like, work to change what you can if it sincerely bothers you, and love the body that you have! You’ll only have one body. It really does sadden me to see girls who go to extremes in order to look whichever way they perceive to be “perfect.” Newsflash, sweethearts, perfection is an illusion!!! That’s right, I said it. What may be “perfect” to you may look quite imperfect to a bystander. For instance, I am almost anti anything unnatural. Unless you need something modified on your body for health reasons, leave your body alone. Fake breasts, fake lips, fake hair, fake nails, fake tans, implants to create body parts you weren’t born with, it is just very unattractive to me. I’m of the notion that natural is beautiful. However you look naturally, is your best look. It’s one thing to take care of yourself, which I’m all for, I can be a girly girl too, I like makeup… I just rarely ever wear it. I just like people to look like people, not 3D designs of Photoshop.
It’s okay to love who you are, as you are. Really, it is. Take care of your health, exercise because you should, eat right because it goes hand in hand with exercise, stay away or seriously limit your alcohol intake, don’t smoke… That’s all good and well, but don’t take it to extremes. You have to look like a human in order to be a human.
Another thing that really bothers me about this whole fitness thing is the fact that people expect results without actually working to achieve them. I have a lot of self control, and a lot of discipline. I know that if I want something, I’m going to have to put in work to get it. Simple as that. Obviously, not everyone is this way, though. But seriously don’t complain about it if you’re not doing the work to change it. What you put in, you get out! If you only ever eat junk, processed food, don’t be surprised when that number on the scale continues to creep upwards. You. Have. To. Eat. Right. Along. With. Exercise! I don’t know what is so baffling about that concept. I hate the mindset of “I can eat whatever I want if I run an extra mile tonight at the gym!” You need to be eating to fuel your body through your workout, not to satisfy whatever craving you have. It’s good to give in occasionally, and I’m not the type to think you need to deprive yourself of those heavenly cream cheese brownies. But I am saying that you need to be conscious of what you’re eating, how much you’re eating, and when you’re eating. Food is fuel. Starving yourself for “skinny” won’t help you, either. In fact, you’re endangering yourself. It’s not even about being skinny, but about being healthy! I’m a naturally petite/small person, but am I fit and healthy? No. Haha. I need to get in the gym to get toned up, and make sure that I’m eating regular meals and snacks. I also need to watch what I’m drinking. Liquid calories are real. Water has 0 calories, and it’s the best thing you can drink. I’m a Texan, I love my sweet tea, but I don’t love caffeine’s dehydrating effects or my brain’s ability to stay wired off of minute amounts of caffeine, these days.
I don’t know what kept me from posting this blog yesterday, and now I don’t remember what else it is I wanted to add before I posted this. Blame it on the brain surgery… I do that a lot. :) Sometimes my mind just works much more differently, these days. That’s alright, though. I guess I just want people (men and women–because both struggle with body issues) to love their bodies as their own bodies. Not what some Photoshopped image on a magazine cover appears to be, not what a 5’11” 115 lb model appears to be, not what a body builder who squats 300 lbs. appears to be. Love you for you! Change what you are able to change, take care of your health, and love who you are. It’s who He created you to be!
There, I said it. People who choose to express themselves in a more artistic, visible, tangible way are moody. We are constantly rocking back and forth in a sea of emotion. For some of us, this sea is painted on a canvas, for others it is melodies, harmonies, and notes across a page, still others, words across a journal. But we all share one common thread, and that’s the fact that we are always vacillating between this feeling and that feeling. We just tend to be inclined towards a medium of expression, and there you have it. Some of us make our expressions more public, others of us choose to keep to ourselves or those trusted few. That doesn’t erase the fact that our temperamental natures are the source from which we operate.
We’re a different kind, a rare breed. We function on a different wavelength than many around us, and that also explains why we are often quite introverted, preferring to “stick to our own kind.” You know what? It’s okay. It takes all types to make this world go ’round. Being moody doesn’t mean necessarily that your emotions are always on high or low, or that they vary between the two. For me, being moody means experiencing a lot of different kinds of emotions in different capacities. I don’t think this makes me “crazy,” either. Which, by the way, I hate that label. You don’t know what someone feels… So how about you don’t try and label them? That sounds like a great plan to me. Although, I will admit I’ve always thought that the only reason more people aren’t on some kind of mental healthcare management plan is because they find a way to let it all out. For some people, that’s pouring it into work, a workout, a family. But for the types like me, it’s pouring it into an art form. A way of catharsis.
I can be brilliantly happy, and painstakingly sad all in one day. All over one thing. For instance, when I see a small child, it just does something to my (emotional) heart. I just feel so light and happy that God would allow two people the opportunity to create and nurture another human life. Then, I can look at the same child and wonder if his parents treat him well? Does he have everything he needs at home? What will his life be like as he matures? Will he be accepted, or ostracized? All of the thinking can make me question on very deep levels. I do everything on a deep level, and nothing is surface with me, seem as it may.
The real question here may be, why do you care? I ask myself all of the time why I care about things I have absolutely no control over. Or… Does it just appear we have no control over anything? Maybe we all have much more control over our surroundings, but only because we have control over ourselves. I have no control over stopping the rain, it will fall anyway. However, because I can control myself… I can dress accordingly and carry an umbrella with me. We can affect the lives of others much the same way. You cannot control how someone will act/react towards you, but you can control yourself, so you can act accordingly towards them.
Really, artists are just sensitive. That’s what I’ve always thought, and I’ve always known myself to be. In fact, I’d even consider myself highly sensitive in the way of picking up on “vibes” of people, and places. I just get “feelings” and run with them. I’m a very introspective person, constantly monitoring my reactions and actions. I have always been this way, and I don’t think it will ever change. Why? Because I choose to be genuine. I choose to express myself in my most pure state. Whatever that may be. Pure doesn’t always look right. Sometimes, I am very irritable and angry, and I will express that. Doesn’t seem “pure,” does it? No… But it is pure in its raw emotion. That’s how artists are. We express raw emotions through a medium, and somehow others can relate to us. No, our sensitivity doesn’t always manifest itself through outbursts, tears, or laughter. Sometimes you’ll only catch a glimpse of it through a perfectly constructed sentence, a series of notes joined together in just the right alignment, a dance choreographed to precision, a series of brushstrokes that join together to complete a picture.
A picture of what? A picture of our insides. That’s what you see when you see an artist expressing themselves through their chosen medium. Although you may not understand, identify, like, or even agree with it, respect it. They’re taking a huge leap of faith in putting themselves out there for all to see. There is something to be respected in that. When someone allows themselves to be vulnerable and on display, it says a lot about that person. Maybe they’re doing it for themselves, or maybe they’re doing it for everyone else.
So next time, my fellow art dabblers, you’re feeling some kind of way without an explanation for it, it’s okay. Pat yourself on the back and just acknowledge that while your physical body lives in one realm, your emotional heart very much lives in another. You express those feelings through your art form, and that is okay. There will always be plenty of people who think you odd, and so be it. You can be exactly who you want to be without acceptance from anyone other than yourself and God. Strive to live a life pleasing in His eyes, remember He knows your heart. Be you, take it all in, remember that it takes all types to make this world go ’round, and embrace the experience. We only get one shot. Better make it count.
Next time you’re wondering why you are who you are, I encourage you to read Psalm 139:13-18. Maybe that can shed a little light and help you to accept yourself as you are, regardless of other’s opinions of you.
Every once in a while, life will present me with the opportunity to see the reason behind a saying. Today, I gained that knowledge because of a status a friend of mine posted on Facebook. You see, lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to have heart. Not have a heart, but to have heart in everything you do. You know, like a relentless quest that keeps pushing you to press past anything in your way. Determination, drive, a will to do, get, and be better. Here’s the perfect story that illustrates a real life example of what I’m trying to say:
“I go to the gym just about every morning at 8am or so. Every morning I have gone this semester there has been this kid who practices basketball all by himself
He is pretty overweight and wears glasses and you can tell he just plays for fun early when no one is there. All he really does is chunk the ball with one arm from half court the whole time for about an hour. He always misses the backboard
by at least a foot and you can tell that he gets really down on himself and thinks he isn’t any good. But this particular morning I was on the. treadmill and he had been down there missing for about 30 minutes. He was sweating heavily and looked like he was about to call it a day. when he went to half court for one last shot. He chunked it with one arm and it went straight in the net. He threw his hands up and started clapping over his head, trying to celebrate quietly to himself. I don’t know if I have ever been happier for someone I have never spoken to. My day, and possibly my entire week, has been made.”
I can’t lie, after I read this, I had a slight tear in my eye. It just made me so happy. I even commented on the status thanking my friend for sharing this story with us. It’s just a nice and simple reminder in today’s rushed, complicated world. I love the story. But most of all, I love that that kid has heart. That’s what life is all about.
It’s about being knocked down, but still getting up, dusting yourself off, and trying again anyway. It’s about the odds continuously being stacked against you, but you press on anyway. It’s about trying, even if you might fail. It’s about trying that 100th time, even if you missed the shot the first 99 times. Why? Because you never know. Life’s funny like that… You just never know which shots you’ll make, and which shots you’ll miss. Try, anyway. Life just might surprise you and you might end up making it by a long shot when everything/everyone around you says “you can’t.” Don’t you give up. Keep trying, keep going.
It’s important in life to have heart. It’s important to dedicate yourself to something other than yourself. It doesn’t have to be some glorious philanthropic project designed to win you accolades, either. Just find something that you can put your heart into, and pursue it. Sometimes that’s how we find ourselves. I know I find bits and pieces of myself in the things that I write. I will write something, and people that I don’t even know will acknowledge something I’ve written and they show me something new about myself. I appreciate that. Not because I’m narcissistic, but because it’s nice to be able to see yourself through someone else’s eyes. It’s a nice affirmation to validate yourself. It’s nice to place your hands above your head and silently cheer yourself on, just like that kid did today. :)
What this kid didn’t know, is that he was being watched and that his own perseverance would speak to many people. It reminds me, myself, to keep pressing towards the goal. I just want to encourage y’all to keep the faith, keep the fight. Just keep pressing towards whatever shot it is you’ve been trying to take, and maybe haven’t made yet. If you quit trying, you’ll never make it. That’s when you lose, is when you give up. So keep taking those steps to press on towards the goal. Don’t take your eye off the prize. Put your heart into it, and get after it. All the talent, education, skill, time, and money in the world doesn’t matter if you don’t have heart. You’ve got to have an unrelenting passion to go after whatever goal it is you’re shooting for. So find whatever it is that fuels you, and go. Be blessed!
I’m gonna be writing a post or two tonight or tomorrow. Or maybe even tonight and tomorrow! Haha. A friend of mine posted a heartwarming status this morning that really drove home something I’ve been pondering a lot, lately. I’ve spoken with him, and he’s gonna be awesome as always and allow me to share his status with y’all to piece an entry together.
Hope that you are all well! I’m doing good, taking it one day at a time, as usual. Life is good, even through the challenges thrown my way lately. I’m gonna make it, I always do.
Faith, by fire. 