My tongue is in my hand…

Archive for the ‘Highs/Addictions/Sweet Spots of all kinds’ Category

So much of our life is about perception.

What if everything is okay, right now, always? What if we’re missing it the whole time because of how we’re looking at it? What if nothing was not okay?

What if our expectations, standards, and perspectives are the only thing making things not okay? What if we were to stop thinking in terms of right and wrong, to stop trying to make everything fit into an equation or a diagram, to stop thinking in  “should” and “shouldn’t s”. How would this change us?

So many of us are fed such stringent stories and guidelines of faith and prayer and God that even if well intentioned (and I’m not sure it always is), it hinders us. Because there are discrepancies in the kind of belief you have before you see so many perceived bad things happen to perceived good people.  Before you realize that no matter how much someone plays by the rules they can still lose it all or get burned.  Before you see suffering and sickness and death strike with no order, not passing over the faithful. When you’re really out there living, nothing is like it was taught to you, you have to find for yourself what your faith is, what your prayer is, who your God is.

You have to find what’s within you, you have to build within yourself. The more you have within you, the less you need from anyone, anything else. And, ultimately, the more you have within you, the less you have to lose from around you.

This is how I come to belief- from within, from the place where I am defining for myself what belief is, who God is, what prayer is. From the place where I am letting go of all the definitions I’ve been fed.

I have decided that prayer is about energy, and belief. It is communion, it is communication. It is the way we live, our lives are prayers. And the times we stop to pray, we are aligning ourselves with the energies around us, we are drawing respite and renewal, we are releasing negativity, requesting assistance, we are communicating, we are connecting, we are believing that prayer matters, that our concerns matter, that we matter, that God exists, and that God cares, that God is able.

I have decided that belief is a choice. It is how I choose to interact with myself and my world. Belief, like love, is not earned, it is an effort from within.

I believe we can choose what to do with the shatter that comes into our lives. And that sometimes (or maybe all the time) it takes something falling apart for us to really dig in and develop some depth to faith and belief. I believe that belief is a choice to constantly make, I believe that the act of belief is a defiance of fear, circumstance, hate, and ugliness.

I think we get chances all the time to choose belief, or choose anything else in it’s place. And I think we have to be careful of what we choose, because there’s only so much room in us. I think that it’s something to constantly reconsider, redefine, and reshape as our lives and hearts and minds move through this life.

I think the dirtier we get believing, the more we know about what we believe. I think laying down belief for a little bit due to anger, disappointment, doubt, etc, allows us to see ourselves and our world without it and allows us to decide if we want it back and what amendments we want or have to make to it. I think it takes seeing what our faith is not to know what it is. I think that all of these things make our faith not only more authentic for us, but to others as well.

I believe not blindly and not because my world hasn’t shattered, but because it has, and I have laid down belief and I know who I am without belief and I don’t like that person. I believe because I have to if I’m going to get up in the morning, because I need to, because I want to. I believe, even knowing that bad things do happen, have happened, can happen, will happen.

I believe we are part of something so much bigger than we can see, something that we only occasionally get a glimpse at, still unsure what it creates in the big picture. Like a stained glass mural or patchwork quilt, a symphony; all the pieces needing the others to make the masterpiece.

I believe because I’m a fighter and I’ll fight off darkness with belief because I don’t have room for both in me. And while I know I have to enter the dark at times, I will fight to keep it from entering me. And I don’t always succeed at that, but I will keep defying it.

I have seen that there are tunnels and there is light. I believe not because I always see the light at the end of the tunnel, but because I know there is a light. I believe knowing that there is light before and after the tunnel; and there is a tunnel before and after the light. I believe that with each light, I can take for myself a portion to carry through the next tunnel, and I can do this until the tunnel has no more room for darkness, and I am with the light all the time. But I have to keep moving and I have to keep pushing the darkness out with the light; within me, around me, before me.

There is a beautiful release in belief and I think we talk about that a lot, but we don’t always talk about the battle. And it is both. Freedom comes at a price. It always has.

Because fear is an enemy, an army. Fear debilitates, censors, triggers the ugliest places in us, limits us, locks us into panic rooms with no light, no air.  Fear is a wolf that comes to our door in sheep’s clothing and devours us.  Fear paralyzes, marbleizes, tethers us to dry and barren places and tells us they are safe zones.  Fear is a lie.

Belief is defiance of fear.  Belief is free and open and empowering.  Belief breathes life into us.  Belief unchains us from regulations and codes and methods that were designed to control us with fear, manipulating our desire for control and sense of security.  The only security I’ve found is belief. The only freedom I’ve found is belief.

So, through this, I’ve decided that I believe this about God:

When God is small, when God is punishing, when God is vengeful, when God is abandoning, when God is limited, when God is no longer magnificent and loving and graceful and magical and majestic and caring and powerful and a worker of miracles, it is because we have perceived God as such. It doesn’t mean any of those things are God, it just means that is what we have decided God is, and so, for us, that’s what God is.

When God is timeless and present and kind and understanding, it is because we believe God is so. When God is magnificent and loving and graceful and magical and majestic and caring and powerful and the worker of miracles, it is because we allow God to be these things in our lives, because we perceive God to be these things and with this perception, we bust the doors of our souls wide open and anything is possible.

I believe in God with us, in us, for us. God as companion, God as love, God as compassion, God as service, God as an artist, God as beauty, God as powerful, God as present, God as supernatural.

I believe God loves me fully, passionately, unconditionally, irrevocably, honestly, adoringly, and lives in me, around me, with me, through me. I believe this is true for everyone.

I truly believe we find what we seek, not we we demand, not what we wish, but what we seek, actively seek.

I believe when you see God as the fullness that God is, you begin to see God everywhere. You begin to see beauty in places and people you haven’t before, you begin to see the movement of the  spirit all around.  You begin to see, because you are looking.

When I let go and just be, just believe, everything is stars and light and colors and gorgeous. Everything is what it is and that is somehow fine. I find myself in places, with people that are both blessings and sanctuaries. It’s amazing the things you can enjoy when you’re not factoring in anyone elses standards or opinions and you are just being the being that you were created to be. It’s a beautiful high.

So I believe because I need to, because I want to, because I choose to. I struggle, I crash, but I keep coming back to this. I feel the most beautiful, the most fearless, the most alive, the most inspired, the most powerful, the most passionate, the most creative, the most hopeful, peaceful, joyful, loving, and kind when I am believing the things I believe. At this point, that’s all the evidence I need.

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Belief

Posted on: June 6, 2010

Sometimes, a lot of times, writing is the only thing that makes me feel powerful…it’s empowering…it’s active…I don’ t know why I just don’t write sometimes. I should write all the time, but it’s like there’s some block…not writers block, something else. And it’s not just with writing, there are the walls I hit, far too often that just knock me down, or that I just keep hitting my head against, over and over until I feel defeated. I don’t know how it happen, what it is, but it takes me down…anyways, I’m writing right now…

Do you ever feel like there is only one lesson you are ever really supposed to learn in your life, something that you keep coming back to, over and over in varying degrees? Belief is my lesson. I just know it.

I will not let anything steal my joy. I won’t. New decision. Our joy is our strength, so I won’t let it be stolen. Even as I write this, I am struggling to believe it, but I’m going to write it. Because writing is powerful.

“If you would just trust me, your whole life would be amazing…even the struggles would be adventures, opportunities, open doors…open your mind to more than the world, what the world says is good or bad or scary or sad…get beyond that, beyond people, even the people you love…they have their own lessons, their own journeys and all you can do is live your life the best way you know how, that’s the most help you can ever give, honestly…it really really is. I love you. I’m the mountain mover. Why don’t you believe me? Just believe me. It’s a beautiful world, it’s a beautiful life…you have to believe…and write even when you feel blocked. Don’t get discouraged when you feel exhausted, cloudy…just give it to me, just let it go. Just believe.”

I’m trying, I’m trying. Guide me Lord, I need you. I keep falling back into the same thoughts, the same habits, the same fears. I keep getting overwhelmed and exhausted. I’m not delving into your grace, into faith. I need help to be free from what holds me back. I need help with clarity. I need help with follow through. I need help living the best I can. I know I’m not right now. There’s too much negativity and anxiety for this to be the “best”, so please deliver me from the chains, help me please be free in you. Lift me when I fall, encourage me when I feel defeated, give me energy when I feel exhausted, grant me clarity when I feel confused, hope when I feel despair, strength when I feel weak, joy when I feel depressed, peace when I feel worried, please please help me. I can’t live with anxiety, exhaustion. I need your deliverance. I know there are life circumstances that I’ve been letting get the best of me- instead of seeking your magnificence, I’ve been fearful, anxious, confused, weary. I want to let that go, I’m letting that go. You are more, life is more. I can not live worried anymore. I have to let it go and believe you will guide me, you will show me the ways to go, you will make a way where there seems to be no way, so that’s it. No point in knotting myself up about it. You are in control, you have it all in your hands. I need to let it go. And the thing is, it’s everywhere…the things I fear, the anxiousness – it can be triggered anywhere I am, anytime of day or night, all thinking about money or the lack there of and what the world tells me that means, what the world says will happen, what the world thinks of that, how scared the world is of that and it makes me feel like I should be scared, like I should be freaking out all the time and like I should feel discouraged and defeated and I’ve been believing this crap. Please help me believe in miracles, in your miracles, not just water to wine kinds of things, but the miracle that is life outside of this earth, the miracle that is trust, that is belief, that is hope and joy. Lead me in these ways, in the ways of peace and in the powerful presence of everlasting hope and eternal love, redeeming, powerful thing that it is. May the things that bother me become convictions to seek you out, to delve into hope and belief, to pray for peace and guidance to move as you will have me move, to allow you to move as you will move, may my worries become convictions and my convictions become actions of faith…I want more than worry, I want more than the world…  Please, help me let it go…I love you.

Flash

Posted on: April 18, 2010

I hate waking up with things to do. Of course, everyday there are things to do. It’s just about me getting my mind in the right place. Ironically (only to me) I’m laying in the ladders of light on the floor this morning, instead of looking at them from the couch. I think that’s progress. I don’t care if that makes no sense at all. I think I’m ultimately glad that very few people read this blog because I need to just write and not worry about it being anything but me writing whatever.

I definitely had something in my head to write about and it just floated far far away. Hmmm….

We went to the drive in movies last night. I love it. I can see doing it again this summer. Especially since it’s near dad’s place at the lake. I’m tempted to go ahead and start planning lake weekends. We are going to spend a long weekend camping in the mountains, and possibly a weekend at the beach with friends (without Natalie) in their grandmother’s condo, and possibly a weekend at the beach in a place of one of Jason’s uncle’s. If we actually budget ourselves and don’t spend money stupidly or unnecessarily, we could have a good summer regardless of our shitty money situation.

That’s definitely one of my stresses. Now Jason has a job, but it’s so much less than what he had before, we’ve tapped out savings, and family, and credit cards. I used to be able to tell myself that when he got a job we’d figure it out and it’d be easier, but now it’s just scary because he has a job and we’re still very short. I keep trying to figure out what I can do to help- second job or whatever…I did start actually using the check book register again to keep track of things….so I guess that’s a start.At some point, I’ll have to figure out what to do regarding credit cards and stuff we can’t pay…I am working on a home loan modification…and I am trying to keep having faith. If it weren’t for Jason, it wouldn’t matter. But he cares about material shit. I’d get rid of the house and file bankruptcy or whatever I had to do to just be done with it…and figure it out from there…oh well

Natalie stayed with mom last night, so I’m going to meet them at church this morning. I was really hoping to go to Hope Church again before I went back to Dulins Grove, but honestly, to get to have a morning to myself, I’ll meet them at DG. Otherwise, mom would call me as soon as Nat got up.

I have to do work stuff tonight/early tomorrow morning. The week before, I was able to get things done on Friday, but this Friday was consumed with other stuff and that didn’t happen. I do want to make it happen again though, it made Sunday/Monday better (obviously).

I need to do some Goodwill shopping…Okay, more that I want to, I don’t really need to.

I was very domestic the past couple of days. Bought and planted flowers, rearranged pictures and such in the house, baked banana bread…it’s not that I don’t like those things, I just only like them when I like them. It’s not that complicated.

My mind has been stranger lately. I don’t know if I can explain it. There’s this place it gets to, creatively that in the past few years would kind of come in waves. Now, it’s there almost all the time. The pull is strong. It’s like I’m high for extended periods of time. Which is not completely new. I used to get like that, but it was when I lived at home and had a ton of time to myself, so it was easy to manage to keep it together when I was with people. It makes me think of that quote by Nathaniel Hawthorne

No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself, and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be true.

It’s not so much that I am confused anymore as to which one is true, it’s more that it separates me- or it has that potential. Sometimes, I feel like I have to choose against whatever brilliance is within me and with being who my family and friends want and hope and need for me to be. I’ve tried to run middle ground most of my life, but I feel like sometimes, I’m going to have to choose. And I think I’ve been here before. And I chose what’s expected and that didn’t work for me. That was undoubtedly the least “alive” I’ve been…at the same time, I recognize the different aspects of my self, the true responsibilities I have to the people who love me/depend on me. I guess it’s still a balancing thing. I do believe balance is important. But I may have to adjust what that balance is, or what it is I’m balancing…

There’s this other thing. There was this point in my life that was “right”. Sometimes, I get flashes of that time in the time I’m in, and it’s almost like a sign that maybe I’m headed in the right direction. And it all feel like maybe it makes some kind of sense…

Sometimes, I ask myself “did you ever think you would be doing this” and I’m not surprised. I’m not surprised by my life. And I think that means I do know myself…not to say I fully like the life I have, but more that I get it. I used to think I couldn’t understand where I was, but that was me not really acknowledging myself. I know how I got here. I get it. I know myself. The question is always…where am I going now, where do I want to be, what am I doing about it? Still working on that…

I’ve had a hard time lately. Harder than some others maybe, not as hard as many, I’m sure. But still, hard. I’ve always had a had difficulty with having perspective on my own struggles, with allowing myself just the right amount of wallowing and encouragement. I have a hard time ever talking to anyone, or even writing it out anymore.

But I heard the voice again- in the shower. I didn’t write it down that day. I don’t even remember what day it was anymore.

“I’m training you”

For what?

“You’ll know when you need to know”

What if I can’t? What if I can’t? What if I don’t want to?

“It’s what you were born to do, it’s how you are made, it’s what you’re looking for.”

Sobbing, sobbing, sobbing

I can’t do this.

“Can’t do what?”

Anything. I can’t do anything.

“I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength – You’re having a hard time with the wording ‘Christ’, aren’t you?”

I don’t know. I don’t know. Yes. No. I don’t know.

“It’s okay. You know. I’m training you. Great men and crosses, you remember?”

Yes, I do, I just can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

“You remember the bright light? You remember?”

Yes.

“It’s exactly what you thought it was.You were born for this. You were born a believer. I’m training you. There is such an amazing future. Don’t you see things you’ve believed, hoped into your life?”

I do, I do see those things. I’m so thankful for those things. I’m just tired and scared and tired.

“It’s okay. No pain, no gain, right? You’re training, you should be sore, you should be tired.You don’t have to do this, but you’ll never be satisfied if you don’t. You won’t even really be alive. If you settle for what’s right before you, you will vanish, it will be like you never existed at all”

I know. I breathe to believe. That light. I didn’t know how much that light can hurt.

It hurts because you’re human, it’s taking you beyond that. It doesn’t always hurt, it won’t always hurt. You are not alone, but feeling lonely is part of it sometimes. You will find people to trust, you will have communion, intimacy, fulfillment- you will have what you seek. And you’d never breathe again without the light. You’d be a shell. Don’t underestimate the light in you. You have nothing to be afraid of. There is absolutely nothing, no one you should fear. Do not fear. And remember, this is training.You will find rest. Just not quite yet.”

okay

I’ve been thinking lately, about poetry, about writing, about my sanity, my mental health. Now, being in mental health as a profession, it makes sense to think about mental health. What I’ve been thinking is that everyone could have a diagnosis. There are so many diagnoses, we could all be diagnosed with something. I think a diagnosis is merely a description of behavior and symptoms. It is not a definition of a person. It does not  give or take anything away from someone. It describes something about them. Mental health is so tricky. Everyone struggles at one point or another, some of us struggle all the time. It’s so different for everyone, even people with the same diagnosis. Because people are so different, because situations are so different.

But there’s a line…a line beyond just dysfunction or struggle…a line that is easy to see in some, and hard to see in others. Environment plays a factor, as do personal/family history, support systems, and the internal drive of a person. Anyone could just lose it at anytime, really. I think they really can….

I think if we’re really perceptive and insightful, we can look our madness in the face and do something with it…of course, I only truly know what I can do. I can channel it. I have been channeling it for so many years. It is why I believe in and talk to God, and it is why I write. I confide in, trust, and accept the love of God more than I do anyone else, I always have. Sometimes, it’s just God and I. I know I make it that way. I leave parts of me closed and that’s how I feel safe. That’s how I have room to create. I write to cope, to process, to claim, to create something I can record, something I can have and do something with. It is, and always has been, my coping. Sometimes it’s an obsession, and constant need. But it works. As time has gone on, I’ve had to pull other things in as well. Every day is a concentrated effort in coping, in feeling alive.

Maybe there’s a medication that would make that unnecessary, but I don’t want that. I want to make the effort every day to find a way to be okay. I think that’s important. I am conscious. I am feeling and being and claiming moments as mine, whatever that takes. I truly do mean whatever it takes. My mental health is the very first thing on my mind, all the time. Being okay is the only thing that matters. I think that’s all that really matters. If that means doing things others don’t like, don’t agree with,or don’t understand, who cares? I am the only one who has to live my life. And I will live my life. I will look upon my life and say yes, I was alive, I lived to be alive. And that may sound selfish, but really, we can’t be anything good for anyone else if we are not, first and foremost, focused on being okay within.

I feel a lot. I feel sad and hurt and worried and scared and happy and joyful and thankful and excited and curious and intrigued and annoyed and bored and angry and encouraged and loved and loving and sexual and disappointed and discouraged and silly and safe and peaceful and sincere and free. I feel intensely, and I feel free.

And perhaps, that’s what matters the most to me, feeling gives me freedom. It gives me freedom to do and say and be whatever I need to be when I feel. And it gives me something to do something with.

Sometimes that means I leave dishes in the sink for a few days. It means clothes pile up in my closet floor, it means I layer today’s eye makeup over yesterdays because I never got around to washing my face. It means sometimes I turn in paperwork late, sometimes I eat excessive junk food, or sometimes I eat pasta for a week straight. It means sometimes drink a lot of wine and read a book in a day, sometimes I work out for an hour and count my calories. It means sometimes I hang out with a bunch or people and sometimes I ignore everyone’s calls and texts. It means sometimes I watch tv all day in my pajamas and then clean the house at 2am. It means I talk to people other people think I shouldn’t talk to, go places other people think I shouldn’t go. It means I keep secrets and tell lies, I drive around for no reason, I stay up late and get up early. It means I find random things to engage in that give me joy or reflect meaning. It means sometimes I’m on a wild goose chase to get right with myself, seeking out, taking in everything I can and doing something with it, making it mean something.

It means I claim my life for me, and no one else gets to tell me how to do it, no one else gets to tell me how to live. And I struggle with that. I struggle with the responsibilities I have (by choice and consequence) and the way I want to, need to, crave to live. I am not where I want to be. But I am trying.

And yes, sometimes, I have to fight the quiet veiling darkness, the numb, the desperate sadness, the ache that makes me feel useless, that makes everything seem pointless, the fog that stops me from feeling, from doing anything. Sometimes, I have to do anything I can to make that fog go away. Anything. Usually that means feeling something. Sometimes it means feeling something someone else would say is inappropriate. I don’t care. I am, intrinsically, oppositional and independent. I need to feel. I need that rush, that movement, that stimulation of my senses, of my self. I need it consistently.

There is nothing wrong with me. I am, And that is fine.

Maybe I was supported enough as a child, gifted enough with attractiveness and intelligence and caring parents and a safe environment that my madness will always be beautiful. Maybe it will always be manageable, because I was able to cultivate it in my quiet room, on my peaceful gravel road. Maybe because I was held in and up by the standards of my environment, my natural attributes, and these things gave me something that makes it possible for me to not quite lose it, left me feeling some kind of responsibility to manage it. Maybe I dove into wife-hood and motherhood and a profession in mental health to hold me here, to keep me here, to keep me from falling off the wagon of the functioning world completely, to keep me weaving myself between the two worlds.

I don’t know. I don’t know exactly how it works out that I can do this and some people can’t. I don’t know how it will be as my life goes on. I know it keeps me thinking, it keeps me trying, it keeps me praying, it keeps me creating, it keeps me seeking, it keeps me offering myself in the field I work in. I see brilliance in people where others see none. I want to do what I can to help people do what they have the potential for.  Because I know it’s there. I will offer what I can to give it some space to be something more. It is part of me being okay.

And there is a great possibility that my consistent brokenness and the efforts I make to cope with it is what will keep me alive, is the key to everything great I will ever do or be.

I cycle through depressive states regarding writing. Regarding the point of it. I always come back to this- the point of it is for me to cope. I know that. (but it doesn’t change my moodiness about the whole thing) It is, for as long as I remember, how I cope. The person I talk to to work things out in my head is myself, through writing. It’s a big part of a lot of growth and movement personally, spiritually.

At the same time, I address all the world around me, through writing, whether they read it or not. But that’s where the depressing part comes in, particularly with poetry. No one really gives a shit about poetry, except maybe, for poets. But I don’t even really like reading other people’s poetry, so how can I think anyone wants to read mine? Maybe it’s like how some musicians can’t stomach certain “mass manufactured” music. But I am not, as an artist, a musician, so I don’t see it and can still enjoy it…

I’m digressing. The poetry thing…it’s just so pointless. Except when it’s not. When  a poem is pressing it’s way out of my pores, it matters so much. But then…what? There are journals and contests and other avenues to share poems and possibly be recognized as a talented writer, but it’s so annoying because they care so much about poetic stuff and I just write. I write and write and write. And yes, I have some dedicated persons who consistently lift me up and assure me that my writing matters to them…why can’t that be enough??

I feel like I’m hungry for something that I’m not even sure I want. I don’t crave a million people telling me my poems matter. I just want this select group that quite obviously just does not care. Why? Why is that?

That’s part of the reason I started the poetry art collaborative experiment, to try and do something with the poetry, to try and connect it to others (and maybe find that I don’t need that certain group… maybe I could make my own group…a group that does something with the poetry besides tell me it’s “good”, which is nice and I appreciate, but it leaves me hungering for more…). But that’s been quite a slow (discouraging) start. I’ m on hiatus from it (although I doubt anyone’s noticed!) and I don’t want to be a quitter so early into the project, but it seems a bit silly to keep at it.

Oh well, I have a couple more weeks, my mood will quite possibly be more positive then.

I just want my poetry to be part of something, like music is. You can write a song that becomes part of the world, part of society, part of memories and conversations…it’s a backdrop for a million different moments…what the hell does a poem do? Not a damn thing really. So annoying. If I weren’t so innately a poet, I would just stop. But I can’t. It’s part of me, if nothing else.

Sometimes, even when I don’t think I’m praying, God likes to jump into my conversations with myself. Kind of like the person standing behind you in line while you’re talking to whomever you’re with (loudly enough for everyone to hear), who just goes ahead and tosses in a passing comment like they were part of the conversation all along.

Today, it was right as I was grabbing the hair dryer. I asked,”When is everything just going to be okay?”

Before the thought was finished, the response came: “What if it already is?”

What if everything is okay, right now, always? What if we’re missing it the whole time because of how we’re looking at it?

What if nothing was not okay?

This makes me think of the book “The Shack” by William P. Young. Maybe not the question itself, but the thoughts that follow it. So what if rape and murder and abuse were okay? What if the Holocaust, 9/11, slavery, cancer, AIDS, homelessness, poverty, etc were okay? That’s what I think of when I think of someone arguing with this post. (I always imagine people arguing against my post, it’s part of my writing process).

What if our expectations, standards, and perspectives are the only thing making things not okay? To stop thinking in terms of right and wrong, to stop trying to make everything fit into an equation or a diagram.To stop thinking in  “should” and “shouldn’t s”.

Perspectives such as, if you’re a child, you shouldn’t have bad things happen to you. Why not? Because you’re less experienced and less capable of defending yourself, it would be the loving and responsible thing to do as a fellow human being to care for you and not harm you, yes. But your inherent right? Maybe not. Maybe not for anyone.

What are our rights? Our true human rights? I don’t necessarily know, this is all off the cuff here- but I do think that we believe we have more “rights” than we do, cosmically.

We focus more on what others should and shouldn’t do to and for and around us and not enough on how we can make the most of ourselves and our lives. How we can play the hell out of the hands we’re dealt. How we can be okay, with anything, with everything. How we can be loving, conscientious, purposeful, joyful, creative, ambitious, caring, interesting, empathetic, helpful, intimate, encouraging, empowered, inspiring…how we can be something instead of how we should be. Instead of how things should be…how are we, how can we see things, how can we can be, how our world can be.

How our little intimate, intricate, world we hold in our heart, in our minds, in our spirits; the universe that revolves around our energies; how it can be. The possibility of life, of living, of belief, of something so much bigger than our expectations- than something we can design for ourselves.

How can we take what we have,whatever that may be, and work with it? How can it be okay? Not that we won’t feel sad or angry or disappointed, but that it will be okay. That we feel things, that things happen, and that we have a peace about it, in the midst of it. That we believe it’s okay, even if we are not happy, even if we are devastated.

And to think beyond our world- what can we do outside of ourselves to contribute to the “okay” in someone else’s world? What can we do to bring ourselves together? To be okay together?

What if everything is already okay? And we are making it way too complicated? What if we’re missing it, and it’s right here?

What if?