Tag: writing

Even you

I miss the days when “breaking news” preceded something other than just the daily drip of a devolving human race. The baseline of what’s accepted and supported in this current version of society has me wishing they’d at least bring back the lobotomies, too. (maybe they did already. maybe that’s how we got here in the first place.) It makes being grateful very, very easy. Grateful for this life I built. Grateful for a home filled with love and laughter. A partner who loves me at all my variations of sugar & spice and encourages all of my pipe dreams (!!!) Delicious food and treats always in the oven or in the fridge. A few dozen noses and beaks to remind me THIS is the whole point: Nurturing the land, and each other, and letting ourselves be nurtured in return.

I’m thankful to finally have the agency of choice, which allows me to choose a whimsy life of passion instead of purely existential necessity. I’m endlessly thankful I chose to survive the times I didn’t want to.

I used to believe that opposition was beautiful. I used to believe it meant growth; I used to believe opposition meant the opportunity to stand firmly in my beliefs. That it meant considering a perspective other than my own. I’m learning now that existence does not need to be an argument. Existence was not intended to be a struggle. Existence in society was meant to build tolerance and community of those around us.

Hard and uncomfortable conversations will only be successful with emotionally intelligent people.

While shedding light, love and acceptance onto the past versions of myself that got me here today- I often find myself wondering how, at one time, I’d become so lowly that I allowed so many shallow minded individuals into my heart and home. Oblivious, conceited, needful, helpless, individuals.

I remember hollering often that I must have done something really terrible in a past life to have to pay the penance of having a myriad of these folks around me all at once.

The pain that you’ve been feeling, can’t compare to the joy that’s coming.

I know that I never would have ran this far if the devil hadn’t been chasing me.

I wouldn’t have found this forest. I wouldn’t have found my husband. I wouldn’t have found my home, or my peace, or over half my animals. I wouldn’t have found a set of parents. I wouldn’t have found my purpose or path or career. I wouldn’t be living the life I’d always dreamed of.

It scares me to think I almost wouldn’t have known this timeline at all. It’s not hard at all to be grateful,

even for you.

What a treat

January, I experienced humility. Accountability. Unconditional love. New adventures. Old scenery with a renewed sense of self-worth. Hope and optimism, for the first time in a long time. February, I explored a new level of self-sufficiency and public appreciation for my creative mind. March, I learned complete confidence in the version of myself that I’ve become. April, I made the cosmic recognition that I am indeed exactly where I am supposed to be. That I am surrounded only by the people that are intended to love me, and that I am purely a product of my own ideas, goals, and hard work. I recognized that I am deserving of love, and that I am always completely okay if the only person loving me is me. May, I finally felt the reward for my sacrifices in 2022. I took another leap into completing the version of me that I’d imagined. I secured one last goal of self-sufficiency, and safety for the little lives that depend upon me. June was for manifested opportunities, self-reliance, and restoring my confidence in blind leaps of faith. July reminded me that I’m human, that I long to be loved, and that I’m capable of giving genuine unreserved love and loyalty. August tested me, proved my self-sufficiency, but also reminded me how safe some people can make me feel. September showed me how strong I am in my boundaries, in my expectations of those around me, and in my ability to stick to my beliefs even against the unexpected crowd that might choose to challenge me. October humbled me, showed me gratitude for my health, and reminded me that I have such a loving support system and crew of individuals that care if I succeed. It reminded me how loved, appreciated, and cared-for I am in this life. November was a lesson in honesty, and vulnerability. It pushed me into the acceptance of myself and of others and showed me others’ acceptance of me. I’m grateful for December, and I’m grateful for this year. I’m grateful for the ability to stand my ground, acknowledge my self-worth, and act upon my instincts. I’m grateful for my past and the understanding it’s given me of myself, others, and the world I’ve created for myself. I’m grateful for my will to survive the times I didn’t care if I did. I’m grateful for this microscopic human existence, and the beauty I’ve painted within it.

It’s been such a long time since I’ve had this good of a time.