Posts Tagged ‘peace’

On this day, I will continue to be who I am, fight for what I believe in, speak my mind, continue to love, pursue peace, protect my family and friends, honor truth and justice, trust and respect only those who have earned it, follow my instincts, have faith in my guides, stand with the weak, oppose bullies, give the warrior inside me free reign, help those in need, denounce all the -isms and religious persecutions, refuse the hate of others, be proud of my diversified community, work hard for all my achievements, follow my dreams, become more spiritually focused, never back down, and stand my ground.
But don’t take my word for it….my actions have always screamed my name.

Is about a woman, subconsciously, fighting for the love of the father who abandoned her.

Luigina Silver’s parents’ twisted and volatile relationship skewed her sense of love and hate, and as she grew older, turned the empathetic, passionate woman, cruel and unforgiving. After her sister is murdered by a vampire, Lu is recruited by an agency that handles all things vampire. Lu’s dark heart leads her into the delusion that she is human kind’s only hope and becomes reckless and a danger to herself in her pursuit to eradicate all vampires. Lu hopes, ultimately to avenge her sister’s death and prove to her father that she is not worthless.

And then Luigina becomes one of the vile creatures she hates to her core.

Michelle, another agent in love with the hot-headed vampire killer, holds the key to Lu’s salvation and a secret that will most likely destroy them both; Michelle’s heart and her betrayal in the name of love. Accepting Michelle’s confession is only part one of Lu’s journey.

Love may conquer all in most cases, but Luigina must face a far more difficult challenge if she is to pass the test all vampires face in order to avoid execution.

Only, she isn’t slated for execution. If she fails, Luigina will be entombed, never to be reborn.

Luigina must face and forgive the man that blames her for her sister’s death.

Second book in the series coming soon!

It’s early morning and I haven’t slept. I’m pondering the outcome of “our” election. The sun came up as usual and my daughter’s cat is being annoying—as usual, so nothing, at this point has changed. I’ve been reading Facebook posts. The reactions are weighed down on opposite sides of the spectrum.

In my opinion, others have voted in a hypocrite, which is the worst kind of liar, but there is nothing I can do about him.

That being said…

My world is my own. I will remain true to who I am. I will oppose all those who try to take away my rights. I will step up and solidify my community’s security by keeping an eye out for anyone being a bigoted, homophobic, misogynistic, xenophobic, racist bullies and put my life and integrity in the line of fire to keep this “leader’s influence from touching my neighbors, family and friends. I have and will always help a stranger either by donating food and or money. People who suffer and are afraid, have me on their side. People who are targeted because of their religion or skin color are, always in my eyes, my brothers and sisters related by our bond as human beings collectively.

I want to rant and vent. I want to scream and punch my punching bag until it’s nothing but a dangling piece of fabric.

What good would that do?

The sooner I move on spiritually, the better off I will be.

I’ve always believed, that no matter how bad something is, there is an inexplicable reason for it. And, some of the time,  we won’t know why until after we’ve moved on from life on earth to review our challenges and lessons. So, God bless us all. (My God. Not yours.) I really hope people were right about him.  Time will tell.

 

What I want in a leader of our country.

1-To keep religious beliefs out of their policies.

We are a nation of eclectic thoughts and beliefs. When a party chooses their beliefs, they discount everyone else’s. They say our country was born under freedom of religion, but that was not true. Despite what religion you were, you were forced or nagged into going to church because that’s what the leaders dictated. All religions try, whether subtle or demanding to recruit as many people as they can. And isn’t it funny that most religions describe women as second class citizens? If given the status we deserved from the beginning, men wouldn’t use terms such as needing championing to describe who we are as human. We don’t need to be coddled we are pretty damn strong. Religions should focus on bringing people together. Protect the children, the weak, the sick, the poor, not focus on stripping half the population of their rights.

Marriage Rights fall under this as well. Attraction is part of nature. Who we are attracted to falls under the realm of the unknown and uncontrollable. Oh and how some people hate that. We have laws that mostly protect children, (I would love for those polygamists who rape children claiming religion as their guide, to be jailed for the rest of their lives. Funny how those children aren’t protected or even come up on any politician’s radar.)

Pence is a perfect example of power undermining religious beliefs. A religious man (whether I respect their views or not) would not continue to back a serial sexual predator.) I do wonder if they made a deal with him about instantly impeaching Trump so Pence becomes president if votes go Trump’s way.

The only object truly separating us from each other is the concept of organized religion. Rules made a long time ago, written down and labeled divine. I do believe in GOD. I don’t believe separation is divine, it is the concoction of early men’s fears.

Abortion…

It’s a woman’s right to her body. Not the dude who knocked her up accidentally. Not the government. Not God’s. Not those people who stand in front of planned parenthood clinics holding signs and who subsequently vanish when it comes time to answer for the baby’s welfare, potential living conditions or if the child will die from abuse or malnutrition. So Back Off.  

2- Our economy.

The rich should not be getting richer and the poor should not be getting destitute. The trickle down policy, which has been the policy for many presidents, does not work. http://www.faireconomy.org/trickle_down_economics_four_reasons

Maybe at one time it did, but when those who worked hard become successful grew older and eventually handed their empire over to their heirs, the hard work part deflated and the heirs’ head’s inflated. When you don’t know what it’s like to put your blood and sweat into a job, you expect everything to be handed to you. Not everyone is like this, but we are entering an age of the spoiled. They talk about children today being lazy. (Adding my experience to my opinion equals that showing respect, teaching hard work and responsibilities are the parents’ job.)

3- USA defense

Instill policies that bring our nation together. Don’t give the delusional any reason to act out on their abnormal urges. I’m a mother of three, awesome hardworking children. Yes, I get angry when I go into protective mode. Violence shakes my body and plies my imagination with graphic ways to eliminate the threatening problem. But, I don’t act on them or even show aggression. It’s called control. Most of us have it. Those who act on an initial impulse are mentally unstable. We all must take responsibility for our country despite who is running it. We have the power to protect our own. And the cognitive skills to make wise decisions.

Communication is key.

There are more…but at this point you can fill in the blanks.

Muslim’s aren’t the problem. People whose hearts are soiled, minds are corrupt and ideals are non-existent hurt, maim and kill. And they come in all looks, sizes and colors! Priests—under the view of generalization are all pedophiles, subsequently all police are racist killers, and all men are domestic abusers and rapists. Of course not!! Stop the hate. Stop lumping everyone into one pile! There are sick individuals out there. They do not represent the whole. I’m going to keep saying it until people start to see the light. We need to protect each other…all of us. Our neighbors have as much to lose as we do. Together we are strong. Divided we will fall. Peace

I get angry. I lash out. I make it worse. Who benefits? Certainly not my peace of mind. Nor did I make the target of my explosions, day. So why didn’t I just let it go? What is “it”? You ask? Well, that’s good solid question. Too bad I don’t have a resounding reasonable answer. If I knew what “It” was, I would have just sat myself down and intoxicated my mind with soothing and uplifting words. Rarely when I get angry do I know the source of the heat or who lit the fire, although in reality if I’m angry about what someone did, or said, the true source always lies inside me. This makes thrashing the culprit a bit more difficult to find and then deal with. For a long time, taking it out on the closest person to me may have been the wrong decision in the long run, but it was something I was taught to do. And at times when I let “it” go for too long, the explosion was so immense it sucked in those who could only wobble like weebles wondering “What the hell just happened?”.

And then one day I decided that is not how I wanted to live. I didn’t want other people’s beliefs or lives to influence my own behavior, moods and most importantly, happiness. My parents’ marriage was nothing like mine, and yet, I punished my husband for all the wrong doings of my father. I refused to show any weaknesses that I was brainwashed to believe that love caused. Thus, out of a chaotic childhood, my sharp tongue and explosive temper was forged.

It took just one day to decide? You ask. Yes. The day I completely flipped out on my young kids and at ten o’ clock at night, when they were supposed to be calm and going to sleep. I’d always prided myself on protecting my kids from the caustic crazy world and here I was going on about their unkempt room. I brought crazy and caustic into their home; a place they were supposed to feel safe and comfortable.

No other people could have made me take an emotional step back. It was only when I saw my damage reflected back at me on the sweet faces of my babies that I realized I had to fix what was broken inside me. I cried. I asked for forgiveness. They are my saviors.

Again what was “it’? There were too many incidents from my past that I could acknowledge and yet there’d be no illuminating affect. I could talk about every one of my battles and I would be no less the warrior. In fact, bringing those battles into the present irrationally justified my aggressive behavior….

So I took steps to try and let everything go and keep the past firmly behind me where it belonged. Not an easy task. I always heard about this peace you feel when you finally achieve full forward momentum, but never felt it. The best I could do was lock myself away when I felt threatened or vulnerable knowing that a misplaced word or look would set me off.

And then this happened.

One winter afternoon, after a pretty snow storm, while driving my AWD SUV , my car slid like ice on ice. I panicked, but tried gingerly stepping on the break. Nothing. I wiggled the steering wheel. Nothing. I was going to T-bone a parked green, two door sedan and there was nothing I could do. About, five feet from the collision I stopped thinking and a securing calm (a feeling of pure instinct and trust) overcame my senses. I took my hands off the wheel and lay my palms on my lap and at the same time, took my foot away from the pedals and waited.

About a foot away, my car turned at a ninety-degree angle, to the right and just as it cleared the front of the car, made another and sharp turn and hit a wall of packed snow just inches behind the green car’s bumper.

I finally experienced what all those books and spiritual lecturers preached. I simply stopped fighting what I could not change and just let go.

I’m still practicing letting go and though it’s easier when I’m not being challenged, it’s becoming less difficult when I am conflicted. I’ve taken many steps since my first and I know there are many more in my future. I am okay with that. It simply is.

Some times I step away from myself to become a quiet observer

Of actions that haunt and thrill

I question and then accept

because in that moment of clarity

I’m nothing and everything all at once

like the first breath of a child

a new beginning to move on from

 

No need to apologize… I can work this out myself.

Your words simply touched that tender part of me

Hurt long before you arrived

A little demon running through my mind playing hide and seek

Until it hears the triggering words inviting it to lash out

To wreak havoc on my insecurities

Flail about to defend that which I cannot see

Because it’s not about you

It’s always about me

 

Human nature dictates questioning everything and then finding or making up a reason to ease our vulnerable minds. We do this in order to stop the repeat of a bad event or have a great experience happen again.  Twelve years after being diagnosed with breast cancer, the fear has yet to be completely silenced. When I hear of someone dying from the same illness, my first response is to find out what they did wrong. They had to have missed appointments or refused treatments… right? I mean, why did I survive? Worse is when I hear stories of it returning ten years later. Again, I go through a process of questioning everything, recalling everything I had done, asking my oncologist questions about percentages and statistics just to soothe the fright that will never go away. Fortunately, I have a lot of distractions to keep from obsessing which keeps my sanity walking the line at all times.

During my fight with my body to live, my mental health went into overdrive. I did what I normally do when faced with a challenge, that if bested, I felt would destroy me. I insured my emotional armor had no holes and my shield of logic was shining before I stepped forward into the fray. The walls I’d put up between me and the world came crashing down. I couldn’t survive if they remained in place. I hated it. I’d always kept a distance between everyone and my heart, except my kids. Now I’d be revealed and exposed for all to swoop in and take control of what I’d spent years, protecting all on my own.

Faith, thou art no friend of mine. I believed in what I could control. Delusional? Quite. This sickness threatened to rip me away from the people I vowed to keep safe from the rest of the world. And it might win. When people told me to have faith in God, I laughed. Never the one to accept putting my life into anyone else’s hands. Even the divine. That’s when I learned the acts of control did not exist. Nature cannot be controlled, though a lot of ignorant people think it can be and somehow convince others of the same. You’re wrong.

Hope? Well, with the unknown there is always hope. Eventually your wishes will be answered and not in the way you wanted or expected. Nature definitely has a great sense of humor and a nasty back handed bitch slap. In my case, she forced me up and out into the world. Forced me to let people in and trust others, but also insured that I knew not everyone could be trusted. Her use of smoke and mirrors dazzled my brain pushing me to tears and laughter in an even ratio. I went a little overboard in the wanting to get out and let people in. Ms. Nature showed me people who acted like friends but were really antagonists and those who acted like the villain could be trusted. Crazy? I know. Hope is just a delay tactic to the inevitable. Eventually, everyone shows their truth. Just like I had to.

Here’s my logic to my cancer experience:

I was already dead. I never went out. I kept my kids close at all times. My heart could not be reached by anyone but my husband and even then, he had to work for the opportunity. I truly appreciate his love and patience. My life’s foundation had been built on fear. The fear my husband would find someone better. That if I didn’t watch over my children 24/7 they would get hurt and I would have to kill whoever allowed that. I saw predators lurking in every corner of this world waiting for me to drop my guard.

My children were seven, five and three when the cancer bomb dropped right on my head. The first diagnosis did not come from a doctor. The bad news came from a medium. Yes. That’s right. My deceased mother, who I watched die from cancer, told me to go to the doctor. I listened like I always, mostly, did growing up under her guidance. My base-line mammography changed my world.

I must have done something wrong to be punished like that. To be forced to allow others to watch over my children while I recovered from a double mastectomy, sat in a chair for hours every other week while poison slowly dripped into my vein making me weak and feeling barely alive and then weeks of radiation that tore open parts of my skin. What the hell did I do? I think I asked my husband, at least, ten times a day if I would survive. When you’re stuck in bed, unable to move and barely able to think you do wonder why you’re still alive. And then my children would curl up next to me and I knew.

Cancer didn’t change me, but everything I had to do to win the battle did. I made the hard decisions. I gave up parts of myself in order to free my heart, my mind and my soul from the cage I kept them all locked in. It’s somewhat true that “what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” But it can also make you weaker if you let it.

I barely survived my childhood with a sense of self. I wasn’t abused, but both loved and hated in equal measures. Love was twisted by betrayal and abandonment and I remember the hurt more than the affection. Stories I learned later on were worse than what had been going on right in front of my eyes. I started putting together my armor at the age of thirteen with the complete loss of safety and comfort. So you can imagine how impenetrable it was when I got married at the age of twenty-five. My husband definitely saw more of me than I did for him to actually say “I do.” And mean it.

And he was right.

I’m still crazy protective but instead of suffocating my family inside armor too small for me alone, I taught them how to protect themselves in every which way possible. This includes showing them I’m human and confess that I make mistakes like everyone else.

So Hope and Faith are beautiful sentiments, but if life doesn’t go the way you want it to, think of it as an adventure and try the find the treasures in the junk.

"Menome" the sense of self… or is there?.