a light in dark times.
a path forward.
an open heart.
understanding of others.
not to remain in the past,
but to avoid mistakes in the
a light in dark times.
a path forward.
an open heart.
understanding of others.
not to remain in the past,
but to avoid mistakes in the
It is the 7th wedding anniversary for my husband and me. Seven years married, and a lifetime to go. It’s interesting now to think back on the advice we have been given throughout our years together.
“Never go to bed angry.”
“Share the load.”
“Oh, you won’t be doing that for much longer!”
All of it was taken with a grain of salt because not a single person knows what goes on in some other couple’s relationship. Regardless of how close the outsider might be to the couple, they will never understand what it is like to be in your relationship with your significant other.
However, there is some sound advise out there. Not all of it should fall on deaf ears.
But, does advise ever grow old? Is there a time limit for the value of the advice? Does it grow stale over years, or lose its potency? Does it keep forever regardless of when it was given?
The best marriage advice I have ever read can be found in an article from a writer in 1886 named Jane Wells.
“Let your love be stronger than your hate and anger.”
Man, of they entire world doesn’t need that lesson right now, no matter the marital status. Letting hate and anger fester does nothing but foster more hate and anger. Only love can heal. True for life and marriage.
“Learn the wisdom of comprise…”
Another life lesson, but I feel this so truly for marriage as well. No one agrees with another individual completely on every topic known to man. And, if they do, they may need to take a journey to discover themselves. Find what really matters to them, and understand their own mind.
“Believe the best…”
Because the worst is sometimes an imagined doubt rather than truth. Give the benefit of the doubt. Innocent until proven guilty.
“…living up or down to opinions.”
Set the bar high. Demand what you want, but be ready to compromise and be surprised.
The basis of any marriage should be friendship. The couple should have a foundational bond of fondness toward each other, which will serve to keep them from falling apart. Friendships may be tested, but it is the connection between the two people that will endure.
“…hand this down to your children..”
Because the more things change, the more they become the “new norm”.
Finally, I leave you with this.
I have loved a man with my entire heart for over 15 years, and dedicated the rest of my life to loving him 7 years ago. It has been hard, full of compromises, times of anger, but the love we share is worth it. The relationship we have is everything to me because we keep surprising each other.
Happy anniversary, babe!
I believe things happen for a reason, but I don’t believe in predestination. Sounds a little confusing I know, but life is much more colorful than black and white. I believe in the gray that allows us to make our own decisions. Decisions that shape many different paths that we may walk of our own freewill, but ultimately lead to another fork in the road.
All this to say, there was absolutely a reason I didn’t get to post anything yesterday as I typically do. And I believe that reason was because of the dream I had last night.
If you know me, you know I’m not a real emotional person such that I don’t cry in certain scenarios other women might. I have gotten a bit softer in the recent years and have cried at silly things like a movie or song, but I attribute that to crazy hormones more than anything.
Well, after my dream last night, I’m just a crazy mess. I’m having a horrible morning between spilled breakfast and making a mess preparing my lunch. My clothes don’t match, and my hair is a mess. But I’m at work, trying to make it through the day and forget about the feelings my dream has dredged up.
In 2015, my grandmother passed away after battling breast cancer for a year. I had taken her to her first appointment when the oncologist first met with her about treatment. The entire battle was hard, but she fought just as hard.
Last night, what I can remember of the dream, she was in it. She was talking to me, but I can’t remember what about. I do remember feeling sad, but she hugged me and told me she loved me. I held her tighter and started to cry, and that is all I remember.
I think I missed posting yesterday so I could get this off my chest. I find solace in writing, more so than just talking it out. This is my way of getting it off my chest, and I am glad I waited until today to do it.
I miss my grandmother, but I am glad I got to see her in my dreams.
I had an epiphany while in the shower this morning, contemplating life as the warm water beat against my back. For as long as I can remember, I have always tried to have a plan that would map out my every move to get me where I wanted to be. Whether it was in my education, my career, even my personal life, I have always tried to control everything.
Then yesterday, I tuned into a TED Talk with Muniba Mazari, and she shared her story of an arranged marriage she entered because her father had told her to do so. She goes on to say that at some point in the marriage, she and her husband suffer a car accident, and while he came out unscathed, it was unclear if Muniba would ever walk again. She tells the audience that she came to terms with the news, but when the doctor told her she would never be a mother or paint again, she refused to listen. She asked her family to bring paint to her hospital bed and did exactly what they said she wouldn’t have been able to do. Years later, after leaving the hospital, she adopted a little boy and became a mother, doing exactly what they said she wouldn’t be able to do.
Muniba says, “Don’t die before your death.” And while her message of doing the things you want rather than being complacent in your life is clear and I hear it, I also feel as if there is an even greater message behind her story. Something that spoke to only me perhaps, but during my shower, it hit me.
Muniba experienced a car crash she surely wasn’t planning on, but she had planned on children and painting. Nothing in my life as far as obstacles could ever compare to Muniba, but I have had moments where what I had planned was upset by an undesirable event, and because of that event, I abandoned the path to my goal. One little upset, and I gave up because I wasn’t in complete control.
And here’s where my epiphany comes in. While I stood in my shower, steam filling up the bathroom, I realized, life isn’t for you to control. Life is full of unexpected, sometimes tragic events, and never will anyone be able to fully avoid all of life’s curveballs, nor should anyone try. Life is meant to be lived through it all. You dodge those curveballs, and keep moving. It doesn’t have to be down the path you had imagined. It doesn’t have to be part of the same route at all. If you have in your mind your ultimate goals, big or small, daily or yearly, how you get there doesn’t matter. It only matters that you do.
Life isn’t for you to control, but you can control your reaction to life.
As easy as they are left, can they ever really be removed?
Everyday we spent racing toward adulthood are all the days I wish we had back.
All the times we daydreamed of the future are all the moments I would gladly give anything to have again.
This life isn’t what it was supposed to be. No. You were supposed to be in it.
This life can feel so empty without you filling it. How I long for the life I had with you.
What I would tell young, naive us now that I know what the future holds is to cherish every second together because one day all too soon those dreams won’t come true.
Live in the now, I would say, because one day, I would know what it’s like to not have you.
What makes any one person believe they were better than they were yesterday? What gives someone the sense that they have somehow taken a step in the right direction from the day before?
Is it accomplishment based? Is it by being kinder? Or is it just noticing a subtle change in your mood compared to the day before?
What makes us believe that today we are a better version of ourselves than we were yesterday, and tomorrow holds even more promise?
I like to think that each day I grow as a person. I’m a little smarter and wiser than yesterday. I’m a little more aware of my flaws and how to change get them as well as my good qualities and striving to better them even more. I’m more positive about the path I am leading, and even more grateful that my past is behind me. Every day I believe I grow a little more like a flower kissed by dew and sunshine.
Not that I’m comparing myself to a flower. I’m no rose, for sure, but you get my drift.
Today’s me has evolved from my past, but this version of myself won’t recognize me tomorrow. With every sunrise, I change, and hopefully, each time it will be for the better.
It’s been a while since I have posted, mainly because life has just gotten a bit hectic, but I need to write this out.
There are times in our lives when we realize we have taken on so much that we are sinking our own ship. We have to bail it out to save ourselves, take a desperate gasp of air, and regroup before even considering which direction to head into next. It’s times like these we begin to think of the loved ones in our hearts and our journey thus far. We hold on tight to the constants, to the known pieces of our beings, as we wait for the storm to pass and our boat to right itself again.
Once we have finally caught our breath and the horizon is properly placed in our sights once more, only then can we search out the star to lead us home. Only then can we navigate what all lies before us, the unknown destinations waiting just beyond the water’s edge. Only then can the world feel tameable as we search for the next piece to ourselves we didn’t even know was missing.
This, my friends, is where I find myself now. After some time to save my ship and right my world again, I have found a piece of myself I didn’t realize I was missing. I love to write, that much I’m sure is clear, but I didn’t realize how much I love to write this blog as well as my novels.
This blog has become a missing piece to my creative mind, an intricate piece to my writing cogwork that without it, I have found myself a little lost and overloaded. Not sinking, mind you, just knowing I have a hole somewhere within me which is only filled by emptying my brain every few days.
Which brings me to my ultimate point of refusing to go any length of time again unless absolutely necessary of not writing even a small blurb on my blog. It’s the piece of me that I can express without fear of retribution. It’s the piece of me that keeps my horizon from tilting. All said and done, writing these posts are part of what keeps me going, keeps me sane, and allows me to be creative. Without out, I’m just a stuffed drain, wishing for relief.
On that note, I’m back. Let’s do this.
I feel like I have heard this term more and more lately as I have gotten older. It seems to pop up at every milestone in life. Get married, a new normal. Have kids, a new normal. Each child’s milestone, a new normal. Then there are the new normals that happen unexpectedly. Loved one passes away results in a new normal. Tragic accident which changes your life creates a new normal. All of these moments in our lives all have one thing in common. They all force us into a different way of doing things, but does that make it normal?
What about anything anyone does is normal? What makes the aftermath of this x-factor normal? Life after a more common rite of passage I can see being shuffled in with what society constitutes as normal, but what categorizes the subsequent life we must lead following a tragedy? Who deems the shift in our lifestyles as meeting some societal standard of the status quo?
What follows after an event literally rocks your world and forces you to continue in a different manner than you were before would never be considered normal to the one experiencing it, but somehow, they will follow along to try and make it morph into what the world around them expects to see.
I say, screw it. Nothing about life is normal. Nothing about our existence on this planet is normal. If it were, we’d all be clones without a mind of our own. In all of God’s infinite wisdom, he gave us each our on willpower, thus our own minds, our own feelings and intelligence. I refuse to believe that any response we may have to any life altering scenario could be constituted as normal.
How about instead of trying to classify a reaction, we just support each other’s coping mechanisms and lend a hand to those in need? How about instead of expecting someone to reach some made up standard following such an event, we allow them to reach a place in their lives where they again feel like themselves albeit wiser from the experience?
Normal is such a relative, fake word, devoid of real meaning. Maybe the phrase should just be a new chapter in life, but I guess that is just the author in me.