Posts Tagged ‘self’

Love doesn’t die—-

I’d put off getting my new driver’s license for weeks. Why? I needed a notary to apply for an original birth certificate. Why they couldn’t acknowledge my existence when they’re the ones that sent me the reminder to update my license, is beyond me. Had my date of birth and everything on my old one, oh well. Why am I telling you this? Well, I hadn’t planned on doing that today, until, who I like to call my muse, intuition and sometimes Mom, pinged my brain with a sense of urgency. “Do in now,” it said. “And don’t go where you’d planned. Go to the library.” Even from the beyond, when she says “Jump.” I say, “How high.” So pushy…

And this is what happened—-

The notary recognized me. I felt bad that I couldn’t say the same. She told me that our children knew each other 15 years ago and that, during an elementary school event, I told her something that helped her through a tough time. She remembered the story I told her about how my mother, who died 22 years ago, kept coming to me like she needed to tell me something. She entered my dreams at night and played with my anxiety during the day. Finally, I made an appointment with a medium so I could speak with her.  (I’d never been to one before, though I do believe.) I’m glad I listened. She told me I was sick and it had to do with female issues. Well, she was right. With no symptoms to speak of, my very first mammography revealed I had an aggressive form of breast cancer.

(Back to today and the notary) She remembered the story and in fact kept it close to her heart al these years. What I didn’t know was, at the time, her father had passed. They were close. She thanked me, rendering me speechless. That alone can be considered a miracle.

So, if you haven’t guessed, I follow the from-the-beyond signs and paths.

Giving up a limb, young looking hair and a good portion of our sanity are what mother’s do for their children and the world. No questions asked. For ten months we deal with hormone spikes, horror stories, remolding of our bodies and criticism of ignorant men (and some women). Or after applying for motherhood, we wait with bleeding fingernails and flesh trembling anxiety hoping we get the call that fills our dream. That female spark extends to aunts who love their nieces and nephews as if they were their own. Grandmas. Sisters. Women are innate warriors and peacekeepers. We welcome children, infants and even hurting adults into our lives knowing our hearts will be put at risk of breaking and still we welcome that future with open arms. Why? It’s part of who we are.

Mom’s are the backbone of all families. We give without taking. We love with no expectations and we do our best to teach our children to grow into responsible compassionate adults. This is no easy feat. It took us decades to fight through fear and oppression to get where we are today, proving that we are strong and untiring. We are not where we should be in nature, as an equal provider with our counterparts, yet, but we are ascending slowly and constantly.  I call it the “Awakening”. The more of us who find our voices the more eyes will be opened to paths hidden from us by weak and fearful obstructionists.

Woman are more than mothers. We are hard workers, compassionate caregivers, and inspirational human beings outside of our homes. Why? Because we never let go of who we are on the inside. We work harder and sacrifice more today because of the narrowed minded men who created this country. We fought through decades of abandonment, suffering, belittling, being objectified, betrayal, to get where we are today and we have a long way to go. And we will get there. Next, I will write about strong women in my life.

 

The first pick up line used by the male species started with ugh and ended with an unconscious female being dragged by her hair into a cave. A few of these same immoral, unethical males still exist and use drugs and alcohol as their reel and hook. There are articles about how they hunt for drunk women in bars. Fortunately, more and more parents are teaching their children respect. Respect for themselves and respect for others. But there are those men/boys who can’t control their urges.

When my daughter was 15 she started dating a boy she’d met online. He lived close by so they met up in person at a Friendlys restaurant in the next town over. Me and her father dropped her off at the entrance. The kid sat on a bench waiting and got up as soon as he saw her. I glared at him through the driver’s side window. I’m very protective and this was her first date ever. Well, I’m not one to hover but I do watch and take note of people’s actions and what they say. I use these bits of information as puzzle pieces as a way to create a personality profile. Well, I had him pegged within a month of their relationship. He was a narcissist. During my daughter’s 16th birthday, he made my husband drive him to the store to get soda HE wanted and then to his house when he ripped his pants. (He was very Lucky I wasn’t there. My daughter went with them and it took a long time because (As was explained to me) he had to match his new pants with his jewelry and shirt. She missed a good portion of her own party!!! My daughter would invite him to family events and he’d lay across a whole couch with his head on her lap. I would tell him to get up each time but he’d always do it again. My daughter didn’t know how to say no. His disrespectful behavior shot a blazing red hot flag into my core.

One day soon after the mental warning, my instincts flared into overdrive. I pulled my daughter aside and told her what I was feeling. I told her he was going to try to have sex with her. She alluded to the fact that he was getting more handsy than she liked. It took every bit of willpower not to hunt him down and rip off his testicles. Instead, I gave her the ammunition to shoot him down. I told her, “He’ll say that he loves you and it’s what people who love each other do. I want you to say, that since he’s had sex with other people, obviously Love was not a factor.”

He did try to talk her into it the exact way I said he would and he did not like her rejection.

They broke up after that conversation, or rather he broke up with her. She was devastated despite the fact that he was an conniving asshole. Of course, she didn’t tell me the truth about why they broke up until fairly recently, but it was a win for her.

She’s 24 now, hard working, intelligent, and compassionate to a fault. I can no longer offer guidance, (She resists like a woman brainwashed), point out inconsistencies, and ultimately remove the current self benefiting person closing off her eyes, mouth and ears from reality. The words “I love you,” has yet again taken hold of her heart and closed off her mind. I can only hope she sees the truth before it’s too late.

 

It starts inside. Loneliness. You own it. A seed you plant before awareness of the world, the truth of family and tradition. We all seek to fill the void we’ve created, but is it real? Some will tell you it’s not. Confusion will dizzy your mind and make you question what you feel.  You ask, “How do they know?” Because up until now, they knew everything. The older you get the more questions arise building a thick barrier made up of 100x more questions than answers. What once was simple is now a wind storm knocking you back making you rethink your true self. Your goal is at the end of your path that is littered with everyone else’s obstacles, fears and challenges. The journey is daunting and proved so far to be painful. Should you move forward? Yes. Traversing the warnings and forbidding’s from the inside of others is just one of your challenges. Set out to get to where you want to be. In the beginning, if you choose YOU, you will be more alone than you’ve ever felt, especially if fear is the glue that sticks your family and friends together. Truth be told, there is always someone who will try to talk you out of your journey. They will talk about the safety of home and their personal choice. Show you the world ahead through their eyes… their perspective. Remember, you have your own thoughts, desires and goals and you’re already scared and looking for that one reason not to take the first step away from home and the world you know. It is more than likely that their compassionate guidance will turn on you, especially if they were fear-talked out of seeking their hearts desires and the comfort of your stationary presence confirms their choice not to reach their goal. There’s no one more battle worn than someone fighting someone else’s battle. Understand that, when you are where you want to be, there is no fighting and no defending . Your armor is your heart and your weapon… five simple words. This. Is. Who. I. Am.

In return to learn

My spirit hungers for knowledge greater than any pain a challenge offers

Lessons are brutal

The scars I bear are the badges I display in every life I live

I chose them to lift me up or break me into little pieces of reflection

The more times I return insures deeper wounds

Greater feelings

Those around me and with me are handpicked by me

They’ll catch my tears or shove me into the hole I’ve dug for myself

and sometimes are the guides I refuse to hear

I started out a speck of barely anything

My steps forward were short and strenuous

Simple but momentous results did occur

They took on momentum the more I succeeded or failed

A diamond is coal under pressure for billions of years before becoming more

Not difficult to see the similarities

Nature is a blueprint of what we could be

Pay attention

Don’t take nature for granted

We are all part of each other

And never forget

Failure is part of learning

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. The name is as relevant as the person who named it and thus has very little consequence. A rose and its classification as a flower are titles given by the least of the world’s natural entities… human. It’s beauty is ranked in the eye of the individual beholder. There are humans who hate flowers and are disgusted by their presence, just as there are those who find fecal matter the end-all-and-be-all of life. I find myself arguing for the right of my perception to be valid rather than the legitimacy of my view point, more and more these days. The art of semantics. I should write that book. Perhaps after I finish the Waking Up Vampire series. The art of Semantics’ sub-title: Why people live by definition rather than consequence. or.. Why people need to blame a divine entity for their decisions when in reality it is where their consciousness leads them. I’m not exempt from the inconsistency of irrational thought. In fact, I spend a lot of time meditating on this intriguing phenomenon, so much that I can announce, in the moment before a crazy irrational, unreasonable tirade is about to take over my, normally pleasant (Yes. You can laugh) laid back temperament that I’m about to explode. I’m going to write more about this on my blog… after I finish writing/editing the last 200 plus pages of Waking Up Vampire.. in the next two weeks. To tide you over, be my guest and read Twisted Fate, by Mel Evers. A review would be wonderful and truly kiss-your-feet appreciated. Peace

You awoke with anger, affection and blinding fear. You waged a battle between right and wrong as others tried to banish your soul. You cry in the shadows and smile under the sun. You do your best to balance my mind even through times of pain. The ache you encompass me in is at times confusing. It feels good or it renders me helpless. 

When I lash out, you bind my wrists and gag my mouth, but nothing can stop the tears from falling. The power you wield banishes the fury of my roar, muffles the sounds of ecstasy. two sounds which expose my weaknesses. 

Love, you know what I need even when I don’t. The fight between us is everlasting, raw and sometimes bloody. You’ve effectively groomed my rage, testing me, prodding my tender thoughts pushing my soul to experience raw life. 

During my stint in dire straits you forced me to fight against who I thought I was to become who I was supposed to be. Not an easy task when all I saw was a target placed over my heart. People not seeing inside was why I’d built the wall in the first place. In one second, in one diagnosis you slammed through my barriers and forced me to open. To ask for help and let others see all my vulnerabilities. I cowered at first. Rolled up into a ball like a fetus in my mother’s womb. Which is ironic since life had pushed me back to that place where I was helpless without others. Would have most likely died without their assistance.

Epiphany. Thank you, my love for showing me that you exist both inside and out. That you are more than the heart within me. You are an extension of those willing to become a part of me. To accept me. To take my hand and offer their strength when I feel I have none. 

Love is me returning the nurture, the power, the giving, the healing without expectation. To carry those in need to a safe place in their own hearts. Like me, you see it from where you stand. The journey across the tumultuous line is long but not far. I know. 

 

Sincerely,

M.E.