Identity

If I were to pick one of my defining identities it wouldn't be 1) My occupation 2) My financial status 3) The size of my home 4) The vehicle I drive. For those distinctions are but just a fallacy, something that could disappear tomorrow with a simple twist of fate.
       The identities I treasure above all, are the ones that stay with you, through times of hardship, where 10 dollars looks like a million and times where $1000 dollars is irrelevant.
       My connection with nature is long standing. A friendship that has never turned it's back on me, that is there anytime I need it. In times of great happiness I've gone to my favorite spots of nature and relished my thankfulness. In times of great sorrow I've cried my tears into her rivers and land, poured my soul out for answers. I've been asked before whom my best friend is, I've tentatively given the answer of "nature" and eyebrows raise, questions arise. "How can that be?" they have asked?
       Edward Abbey once said. " I am an earthiest, I stand for what I stand on."
Reading that was a profound moment for someone like me, who stands in the middle of the road when spirituality is questioned. After yet another attempt at salvation on my soul from a good wishing friend I wrote this in my journal.........

Living in a space that doesn't conform
How many faiths turn around in the overtime......
The divine heavens
The grounded earth
Can't wander between the two I'm told
Show my respects to the heavens and the earth
For my spirituality is somewhere in between

       When I am fishing I find myself in a corridor of peace. A bubble if you may. My entire world can be crashing down around me outside of this space, but when I am there I am in peace. I flyfish year round. Wading in a river on a lovely summer afternoon, freezing in a near frozen river in the middle of December. The time of year is irrelevant to me. Just like writing, flyfishing is something I must do.
       I am lucky, here where I live. If time is an issue, and I cannot escape the confines of the city, there is a beautiful river that runs throughthe middle of town. I always have my flyfishing gear in my SUV and I mean ALWAYS.In good weather on a bad day for me, you can find me fishing down at the river, business suit and all. I imagine and have been told by passerby's what a strange oddity I make, while fishing with my heals tossed on the river bank. Clients will call and I'll answer my cell phone and explain I'm standing by some waterfall outside a business. I figure they don't need to know I'm fishing as long as I'm tending to their needs!
       I observe my flyfishing as an art. I was lucky enough to have an amazing man teach this fine art once. Actually he taught me in an unconventional way, but taught me nontheless. His instruction was priceless. Possibly only another flyfishing comrade could understand this meaning. It is a process, it takes time, learning, understanding and years to attempt mastery. I flyfish for tiny little brook trout and enormous stealhead and receive equal enjoyment from both. I normally catch and release unless it is time for a fantastic trout dinner. I am not opposed to killing what I admire. It is a mutual respect I tenaciously protect. It's all part of the agreement, between nature and I. Take what I need, respect what is given.
       I've had the pleasure of debating my flyfishing and hunting to others that feel this is wrong. It's a perspective that is engaged on two different levels. My respect and admiration for these animals and fish I "hunt" is held to a level in my soul with the deepest appreciation. I've found it is hard to explain this type of honor and respect. I've been asked how I can hold an Elk, wapiti, as a personal totem, yet kill one. Again, it comes back to appreciation, respect and honor.

       Identity can be found on so many levels. When I strip away the superficial I find myself left with a handful of identities. Earthiest is one that I feel at peace with, a comfort of sorts. One that I don't have to doubt or question, for it has always been with me and as long as I can walk out a door, it will always be there for me.

Let my tears of happiness and of sorrow
Flood my own Lake
So that one day I may look upon it's deep waters
To see where I've come from
Rebecca

Question for anyone taking the time to read this........Have you defined the things that identify you? Just something to think about............

Hallellujah

If there is a picture there for you to see, you really should take pause and understand you are in the midst of a miracle. Can you hear the music??? If it's really faint in the mind, I'll give you a hint. It goes something like this Hallelujah Hallelujuh woohoo I did it hallelujah...............

Yes I am a believer. Miracles can happen to anyone.

Hallelujah!

I would like to take this award <created in my mind> and graciously thank the many people whom without their words of encouragement, voices of reason, emails of <come on you idiot anyone can do this> factual know how, I would not be here today hearing Hallelujah in my mind.

To the techno gods of Journal land, I salute you!

Denial

All right, evidently my writing forces were not finished for the evening. So here, I'm back, dearest mind......what is it you felt the need to keep typing?? Don't know?? Hark the inner voice goes silent. Hmmm, alrighty then. Sudden writers block. Words with meaning, yes, that usually does the trick.

Tousled, that comes to mind. 6 am shopping can do that to a person. Hair up, no make-up, Adidas sweat pants, slippers, pocket full of cash.

Charlatan, Stores that advertise great deals, con us hopefuls into an early morning rise, with hopes of scoring the ONE solitary item you held in stock. Ohh yes, I see it now down there in that tiny print <each store guarantee's we will hold one such great priced item in stock, sucks to be the rest of you! but while your here buy these other high priced items>

Operator, I traded in my safe "mommy" driving the cart card, in for a Mother on a mission demolition license. I figured if everyone else was going to use their shopping carts for modern day Gladiator tactics, why shouldn't I?? It really was a test of the fittest, a survivor story, eat or be eaten kind of scenario. I would never exaggerate something like this :o)

Eloquence, that which is lacking in customer service. Need I say More? If you hate answering questions, dealing with people then I would say move on, new job, be nice. I can understand someone 2 minutes ago may have been rude, even yelled at you, was unreasonable, etc etc.....but well, I'm just an innocent Mommy in search of the all illusive "I'm going to just die if I don't get it" present. We both feel pressure, if we both smile, use our cart to knock those "other" rude people out of the way were both winners :o)

Commiserate, the understanding and interesting conversations that are bound to happen when you wait in line for more then 30 minutes. Compassion in the eye's of us weary shoppers, a bonding that canonly surface the morning after Thanksgiving shopping.

Impoverished, the general feeling after returning home to find you have purchased half the things you needed and your pocket book has imposed a temporary lock down.

Tradition, Why I put myself through this torture every year. A time honored, from Mother to Mother fable. As soon as I was inducted into Motherhood, I was invited to join this tradition and enjoy it or not, I am there, every year, with the other Mothers in my family, shopping, spending, laughing, smiling, running, crashing, did I mention SPENDING, and having a relatively great time creating memories with the clan.

All right All right, this is a journal, your supposed to be honest to the core. I fess up. It wasn't writers inspiration that brought me back to the computer. It was denial. Denial of the fact there is a pile of presents the size of Mt. Everestt sitting in my living room, waiting to be wrapped and hidden from the searchers who will be lurking through the house tomorrow. Little eye's seeking hidden clues, glimpses, a patch of wrapping paper peaking out from somewhere. Proof Mom indeed participated in the yearly tradition!

Life, Is A Beautiful Thing

Alright, speaking in terms of making every minute count. I have just wasted an hour of my time, creating a private journal to practice in, heading off to FTP world or whatever it's called, adding multiple entries attempting that easy thing called putting a pic in your journal without the corny box around it. For my efforts I received multiple boxes with a cute seperate box in the upper left corner with a sweet little X in it, a defeated mood and a "I don't give a shXX anymore attitude." So for all of you who have accomplished this feat, I graciously bow to your feet, for you are a God like creature whom a mere mortal like me can admire! And if your sitting there reading this thinking 'But it's sooooooooo easy' remember when you first rode a bike, twasn't that damn easy, but when you learned it no problem!

   Ok, got that off my chest.......deep breathing technique's apply here. Find a happy zone, Find a happy zone.
       Yesterday was of course wonderful. Food was fabulous, company was wonderful, I was ready to take a nap by 5 p.m. and pray for stomach mercy. It's always bad manners to unbutton the pants, release some overeating pressure, sit back and relax in the company of others besides your children. I vote for a Thanksgiving Day exemption to this rule. All bets off, anything goes, if you need to release the belly from the confines of one's pants do so! No judgments! Naps should also be mandatory!
     There should also be a rule to the amount of desserts served. There shouldn't be twice as much dessert as dinner. This is an unfair predicament to put any human in! How can we be expected to turn away dessert? This I believe was brought about by women. After cooking all day listening to the sounds of men laughing, watching TV in the other room, women banded together and since murder and corporal punishment is illegal they decided to resort to some form of subtle torture. They figured if these same men sat around all day, then feasted on an enormous meal, then retreated back to the confines of a lazy boy recliner, vengeance with more food would be a good alternative. Unfortunately, us women also have fallen prey to the lure of after dinner desserts. The proverbial catch-22.
       Oh well.....a few extra pounds to the waist line is nothing compared to the treasure trove of food found on Thanksgiving Day!
       The picture I posted, that caused so much Internet grief, is of myself and my Mother. She looked wonderful yesterday. She's been feeling pretty good lately, healed well from surgery, has received now her permanent "tattoo" markings for radiation which she'll be starting on Monday. She's worried it will take away from the holidays, her energy, her robust life. I've already scheduled into my Palm pilot her rigid appt's for the next 2 weeks. Radiation, 5 times a week, for 6 weeks. If she skips a day, it gets tacked onto the end of her treatment. She made me a card, since I personally think she was the official first Martha Stewart, like she always has as far back as I can remember. Her buy a card? Tsk never! Inside she wrote:

November 23, 2004
Rebecca,
Thank you so much for your
Love and support during
This little bump in my life road.
Know that I am doing okay
And am looking forward to putting
This behind me!
I am so truly thankful this year for
All of my family.
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving for
I am so thankful you are my daughter.
Love you more then words could express
Mom

This woman, my Mother, my support, my tower of wisdom, a visionary, a spirit of which I adore and now, will be a survivor. I couldn't be any more proud of her then I am right now. Life, is a beautiful thing.......................

As Always, Just a Thought 

Thank You

"The written word is the choicest of all relics"

       There is a moment each night as I drift off to sleep. An honest truth. A feeling of loss, moments in the day I had wasted, minutes lost forever. Choices that were made, could have been made, chances lost to time.
       But with each morning in those first moments before everything is clouded with noise and movement, I feel a surge of hopes, anticipation, for I have yet another day to fulfill anything I choose to do. A new day of choices, more chances, and with any luck a clean slate to make the best of my day.
       It's a never ending cycle, me and mind. Some nights I lay in bed, berating myself for procrastination. Some nights I lay worrying how I'm possibly going to accomplish all that needs to be addressed. Some nights where I'm content it's a beautiful thing.
       Then there is this need to put my thought in writing. I am one of those people who must have pen and paper within touching distance at all times. I wake up in the middle of the night with some random thought and write it down. I sit in meetings and listen purely by osmosis while hiding my discreet journal in my lap writing, and still manage to sound intelligent and like I was really paying attention when asked a question. <this is were I count on the osmosis>
        Writing in a public journal here on AOL has been interesting and fascinating in it's self. At time's I've been conflicted about it. Wondering if I'm writing for myself, too myself, or too those nameless faceless people who wander past my link. Last night I know it was for myself, hence the erratic clutter of words without regard to if anyone could understand my mind set. Tonight? More like for the people whom visit. 
       I've found some fascinating journals via the message board. Plus I've learned a new way to find new journals. Following the path of journals, skipping from one to another via the side link of favorite sites. My next goal is to figure out exactly how to do that so I can add a nod to the journals I've found and enjoy on my own humbly, UN-stimulating to look at journal! People are so interesting! I've found I'm fascinated by everyone's different lives, levels of writing, history. The things we are all willing to express, come clean about, write about, again, the safety of the Internet is a miraculous thing.
       Since this entry has trailed from my original thoughts, I believe I'll have to finish those on another entry. For now I feel compelled to thank all the people who have visited my site and left words of encouragement, support, especially in regard to my Mothers breast cancer.
       I would also like to thank many of you for encouraging my writing by spelling it out in black and white that I possess the ability to twist and create well with words. For as far back as I can remember I have written. This is the first time I've ever really opened myself up and let masked readers enter my world of thoughts, exploration, defining life, purpose, love, anything my mind can conjure from the abyss. I appreciate the encouragement and have even allowed myself to wander to the 'what if's' possibilities of writing. There is an interesting point of validation that comes from something as simple as a comment box. I've found I have a new thing to look forward to everyday. I'm excited when I have alerts that other journals have posted an entry.
       This journal is relatively new, and I look forward to see where it takes me and my mind. I look forward to exploring other peoples styles of writing and taking peeks into how other people move about their lives. On that note.......it's time to head to bed and see what my mind will wake me up for tonight to write down!

"The more sand that has escaped from the hour glass of our life, the clearer we should see through it"    Richter

Eclectic Clutter

Sometimes you just have a mood where rhyme and reason aren't necessary................

Unique is the temperament of the passionate. Celestial moments of the clandestine heart. Shrouded by every negative contact. Renewed faith at the slightest glimmer of hope. So shall the sphere complete it's cycle once again.

Solitary Moments Create A Cycle Of Ruminating One's Feelings.

Me. i. Look at thoughts. Why. Emotions. i. Does there have to be a reason. Real. My. Understand. Why. Can. Choose. Mine. Like playing with words. See me. Quick. Needs basic. Why. Answers are key. Slip. Interested? Why. Concepts beyond imagination. How significant do you have to be. Me. Parody of love. Why. Tragic miscommunications. Mine. If I fail at meaning stand to the left. If I succeed at understanding stand to the right. Declare the attestation. Rewrite the impression, unfinished reflections. Why.

Incapacity to feel jaded. Something to carry with you. It's a simple moment. Bothered by the delicate, smiled at the malevolent. All part of the history. Indication of the future. Render a solution by tomorrow. Prosperous in the mind that keeps conceiving. Take these impressions, let them flow from my core. Release from the hectic into the pure. Eradicate the kairos, ignore the rapacious. Solaced myself by means of aspiration. Can't stand the complaisant.

<<<this is what happens when you upset a writer Smile>>>

Contemporary Choice

       Today I was pondering the beauty of choice, and all it's simplicity.  It was sparked by a discussion with one of my daughters who, undoubtedly made a wrong choice. It wasn't something significant or condemning by any means. Just a wrong one. 

       She choose to cover up her choice with an ingenious story that would rival any POE book. Her story had all the elements of suspense and innocent unimpeachable reasons a 9 year old could possess. She managed to elevate a minor infraction to a Judge <thats me> ordered court appearance. 

       When given the opportunity to set the record straight, I again gently reminded her she had two simple choices and two possible effects. She sat, thought for a moment and decided the choice of coming clean was probably the best choice. She knew because of the way I have raised my children that there's ALWAYS two choices, occasionally three or more, but usually the top two choices are the best to go with. Think of it like the first three ingredients listed on food. Those which are most important. 

       After her confession, we again talked about choices. It's choices that I feel are so very important in life and so often not given near the credit they deserve. You choose to wake up in the morning, or you can choose to sleep in. You choose to shower, or brush your teeth, you choose to work, pay the bills and the list could go on and on describing every single tiny detail of your daily life. You can choose not to work, it is an option. You can choose to lie or take the road of honesty. You can choose to call a friend, or let the months pass by. 

       It is with choice that you accept ultimate responsibility in your life. Of course unforeseen things can happen in anyone's life, look at my Mother battling breast cancer right now, she didn't choose that, but again, she has to choose how she handles this time in her life, proactive, reactive, complacency, defeat. 

       With every choice comes a result. Cause and effect if you may. If you choose to brush your teeth, you'll avoid cavities, unless of course you choose to drink a lot of sugary drinks and heap on the candy. I guess sometimes I see such a profound intricate web our choices create.
     

  I look back over the years of my life and can give an opinion on my feelings towards the turning points of choice over my life. Childhood.....learning the art of choice through innocent mistakes......Teenagehood.......learning the consequences of down right stupid choices........Twenties.......making uneducated wrong choices and now into my Thirties.......understanding of the consequence and rewards of choice. 
     

       For me, thinking about all that choice encompasses is a bit like looking out into the stars and trying to understand the impact of a universe that does not have boundaries. Never understated, something inspiring.
     Of course, I am but one opinion..........................

As for my daughter, her paint spill was cleaned properly, by her of course, and as penance for her attempt at diversion, raked up 4 bags of leaves outside :o)

Agony Of $2000 bucks

On a light and painful note. It's been a week, I've given it sincere chance and I want my $2000 dollars back, give back the Tempurpedic bed, buy a nice $1000 bed, take the other $1000 bucks and apply as necessary to back therapy!  As a consumer, you would have to, but assume, that laying out 2k on a bed would:

1) ensure not just any old good nights sleep, but a blissful night, floating on a cloud even beyond the nines!

2) You would wake up each morning with a smile on your face, a skip to your step, ready to take each day on because, well you were unbelievably rested!

3) upon waking your body would feel so wonderful you'd be inspired to run a morning mile, do some Jane Fonda workout, throw in some pilates, just because you CAN

4) Your dreams would undoubtedly embark on a new level, why not? Your sleeping on therapy, your body's laying on heaven, shouldn't your mind respond in the same manner?

Realty Check, for my $2000 bucks <yes I'm bitter about the price tag> I have indeed received 4 things.............

1) sleepless, unable to even toss and turn, not floating on a cloud, but wedged in what feels like a concrete tombstone, hence the loss of even tossing and turning

2) waking up wincing in the pain I feel down my neck, across my back, oh the glorious shoulder pain. I assume this is because once sucked into the murky concrete confinement of therapy my muscles eventually give up and lock into a protective pose

3) Workout? Ha! I crawl to the coffee pot, slither to the computer desk and begin a morning of stretching out each muscle group, begging them for forgiveness, asking them to ease up, I had things to do and didn't have the 2 hours truly needed for unbinding them

4) dreams? what dreams, maybe a few "I'm being buried in concrete, but only half of my body, so I can lay in a slow torturous death." kind of dream

       This is one of those beds that are firm, yet when sat or laid upon, your body heat transforms the bed......it instantly sinks, molds to each body part, every tiny little crevice. Now my true fascination at the store was the ability to sit on it for a minute, stand up quickly and see the true actual dimensions of my backside. I know this sounds shallow, but when was the last time you took a mold of your backside in sitting position to see actual dimensions??!! I of course was fascinated. The check was wrote, the wait patient. I myself have alwaysslept on some cheap or used beds. This was a supposed to be another pivotal turning point of my "it's time to live alittle" stage of life.
  

      I KNEW I was in trouble the first night. I woke up ready to send it back to tempru world, eagerly asked my other half how his sleep was and here's how it went.

ME: "Sooooo how was your sleep last night?"
Him  "Wow, best damn sleep I think I've ever had!!!" <I might add, he was bouncing, smiles, that whole damn works
ME : "Oh, well, wow, <choke> I guess it wasn't as great for me"
Him: " I could go back to sleep right now for another 8 hours it was so great"
ME: "Ok well maybe tonite will be better for me when I get used to it."

This has been my entire week. He loves it, I hate it. What to do, what to do.............Give me some vicodin, a massage and a cloud to ease my aching body on.

Paramour

Illusion (n) False appearance: false belief

Internet, a silent world, a place you can transform, nameless and faceless with little to no consequences. A place you can open up, let the inner silent person emerge. There's an amazing bravado that comes from within when you can simply type, evaluate your words, spell check, delete, rethink before you hit that send button. A person can reinvent themselves in this world, be their ideal and there's no one around to question it. You have to accept things on typed value. Assumptions can be made and stand uncorrected.

From experience I know you can discover someone in a way they never thought someone could. It's easy to pass the time chatting in IM's, private chat rooms, discussing things that feel deep, private, unexplored territory. You can ask those unbelievably personal questions without fear, without hesitation and wait for an answer on the otherside of the screen.

 The interesting thing is had you been sitting in a room, face to face, without the safety of a computer screen in front of you, could you? would you? Really discuss those same things? On some level you could, but it is really difficult to dive as deep as you could on a computer. There's facial reactions, eye's shifting from uncomfortable statements, body language, all that would give you pause before speaking. Especially between a man and a woman. Us women and our tendency to over analyze, over interpret, investigate, and scrutinize. It can be brutal trying to pry things from a mans mind when he's looking over your shoulder at the football game on TV, or wishing he could be anywhere other then sitting there with you trying to figure out what's on your mind. Put that same man in front of a computer and it's a glorious thing and way to dig in deep and pull all sorts of emotions and feelings from his mind. 

 In the silent world of Internet you can continue typing without interruption of thought, if someone types over you, you simply continue with your line of thought, hit send, then go back and see what that person typed. I've often thought that marriage counselors should put a man and a woman in two separate rooms, give them a private chat room and letthem have at it. No room for screaming, arguing, no roll of the eye's and arms folded over the chest sighs of exasperation. Just honest true to the minds thoughts.

The computer almost evens out the playing field. If one person is much better at verbal banter and the other person is better at slow well thought feelings a computer can even that out. If you start a relationship with someone based in this silent world, you can know this person from their ends of their toes to the top of their head. You can feel an unbelievable connection with this person because you've never had the opportunity to know someone as deep as this.

You can even carry this relationship over to the phone and although now there is a voice in play, you still are sitting behind the safety of another device. If you do carry over to phone, invariably your topics will shift to a lighter tone, laughter will ensue, you'll talk of memories <they are a safe zone topic> and day to day. Easy banter that will put a smile on your face far after you've hung up the phone. It's a glorious feeling knowing someone out there cares so much, knows you so well, has taken the time to "get to know" the "real" you.

There is a reason why I choose to write about this, because I'm afraid to many people don't understand or realize the downside to this sort of relationship. There is a transition from the "fantasy" into reality. I went through it twice. Once with deflating deep disappointment and once with, although a eye opening hard transition, but successful.

The first time I was convinced I loved this person. He was inside me my mind and heart and we finally made the decision to meet. My elation and excitement was unbearable. Upon laying eye's on him in that eatery I felt disappointed, his pictures didn't really show the true him. Face shots can be deceiving. He wasn't as tall as he had given me the impression, rough around the edges, someone unlike I had dated, but I was certainly willing to look past a few of those things, attractiveness to your other is only one link in a relationship.

 Sitting eating with him only led to so many more disappointments. Talking was strained, it wasn't deep and beautiful. There wasn't a "spark" or flutter of butterflies in my stomach. Unless you want to speak of the nervousness or mind banter going on inside of me. I knew instantly this wasn't the person I thought I knew so well. Walking me to my car he popped in a chew <how he failed to mention this little habit is beyond me> , smiled with those little black things floating on his teeth and he swooped in for a kiss. I could have fainted away, and I'm not talking Scarlett O'hara swooning, I'm talking the kiss of death.

 I drove awaysick, disenchanted and devastated. This was my computer man in shining armor, why hadn't I seen that happening? coming? How could this be? How can you spend almost a year knowing someone one way and then in the true light of day see someone so completely opposite? Could I be so easily deceived?  

I swore I wouldn't do that again, but it happened, only this time I was on guard, I was vigilant about pressing for the little things. After yet another long computer courtship I once again felt those heart string pulls of love. This time when I met this man I was ready, ready for sprinting to the nearest exit, ready for disappointment, but with a smile on my face I gave love another try.

 When we met it was awkward. Again, pictures don't really tell a thousand words. He was different looking then I thought, but again, that's just a link and thankfully it was all good. We were both so nervous, excited, or maybe I'm just typing from my side. I was so nervous and excited.  but I was able to eventually found a calm zone. Honestly, it was like starting all over again in a brand new relationship. We had to learn how to sit with one another, talk in person, ask questions. It was like a very first date with someone you didn't know, except an undertone of understanding. Butterflies are a wonderful thing.

 We were both patient and realized from the start we needed to somewhat start over. There wasn't these amazing long inspirational talks like we had on the computer, it was just a man and a woman getting to know each other with alittle something special on the side. Thankfully we continued and I fell in love again in a whole new dimension.Those years with him were wonderful beyond words. Distance and families that couldn't be moved was the ultimate ending to our relationship, at least thats the reason I gave myself to justify my choice. Now through time, I must live with the choice I made. A wrong turn. An assumption that can't be taken back. Coward I was. Extravegant loss of love. Lessons learned................

 It takes courage to stand in front of someone, to look them in the eye's and have a conversation. The easiness of the computer is an amazing thing, an outlet for those of us who struggle with opening ourselves up, putting our heart out there in harms way. I've learned how to separate the two worlds, I think through experience, learned the difference between the two. If you can make it through the transition phase you certainly have a shot. But you must set aside expectations, preconceived notions and start over in person.

 Tis a cruel world that would let you reach the top of the mountain, let you plant your hearts flag, then knock you back down the hill to start over on another mountain. The wonderful side to this is if you can make that successful transition, you've laid a wonderful foundation that is wide and reliable. Congrats to all those who have made this successful transition and married their soul mate!!!
Just me.........rambling on and on..........

Poof Gone Rage

Ohhh sometimes I hate AOL......a whole entry gone.....poof, AOL encountered a connection problem. I swear they were smiling when it said "We'll go ahead and restart for ya" Where's my choice there, if they would have given me a 5 second window to save......anything? Rant and Rave, where's the damn auto save? And furthermore while I'm ranting I want a spell check! Where's the complaint department? Posting to comment board, maybe someone from AOL with the "power" can give a few helpful hints to the powers that be!

For Fun

ok this is for Jazz, lol first time for everything and here I go giving it a try. If anyone else feels inclined head on over to My Journey Home to get the questions and try it out yourself!

Relationships can be complicated. This quiz is to check if your in a healthy relationship or not.

1. What is your definition of family? does blood constitute family for you? Family is but who you surround yourself with on a day to day basis. I do have a large family, blood and would do anything in the world for them in a single heart beat if asked. I also have some < a few> in my life I consider family who I do not share a drop of relative bloodline with but feel the same towards. Family is safe, family doesn't threaten or drain you, family is the pillars in which I lean on when needed, laugh with constantly and hope and dream with.

2. Do the people who matter most to you put you down or raise you up? If they put you down , why do you continue to keep them in your circle? The people who matter to most never put me down and always are there for the raise up <especially these days> There have been those, whom I considered great friends who over time I realised pulled me down insteed of along. Thankfully I found life is MUCH better without them in it. It's a bit of a double edge sword, I do miss them sometimes, but as soon as I was able to back away I felt the weight of their friendships shift from my shoulders. Now with that being said, My personal relationship is a different matter, I think he does but both, raise me up and pull me down. Tis a confusing quandry I've yet to understand and lol this page wouldn't be long enough to try to hash that out right now.

3. Does your significant other find fault in you or find favor? If he or she finds fault, why do you stay? I don't feel like he personally finds fault in me. I think he finds me just where he likes me, constantly praising him, raising him up, appreciating his littlest acts. As long as I go along with a smile on my face and coffee brewed in the morning he's just peachy. It's complicated with him, along with true disorders he came from a terribly childhood and it's taken us years to sortout some of things. Again.......too long for this quiz!

4. How much is too much of a sacrifice for love? what is the limit on what is acceptable to take and to do to get it? Now I like this question and I know I'd never be able to answer it all in this box of time. It's the very thing I've been struggling with lately when it comes to him. I'm trying now to decide what are the deal breakers and what are the relationship killers in my life. I can say this, I know I accepted things I thought I would NEVER except in a relationship. I also think my sacrifice cup is just about empty, i.e. limit hit!

5. When you allow people to come into your life do you lower you standards to gain their friendship or do you state the manner in which the relationship will go? I tend to adjust to whom I am dealing with. Take their tone and go with it. I always feel the need to make people comfortable around me. I don't really change who I am, but I do adjust accordingly example, subjects, topics to chat about etc. I've been told I'm a bit intimidating if I don't!

6. When you look at the relationships in your life, do they reflect your present , future or past? more specifically have you out grown the relationships in your life? have they held you back? or have they inspired you to move towards excellence?  Interesting question. I'll have to ponder the first question.......Out growing relationships is an interesting concept too. Do you really outgrow them or do they eventually drain you? Strain you? Expire you? Are the deal breakers and relationship killers overshadowing the good times, the good memories the good qualities that once made you love someone to the deepest parts of your heart. If you toss all the good and the bad on one of those old time balanced weight machines does the bad side come crashing to the floor with the good stuff dangling like a hasbeen above? For me, I think my balance is off. I know it is off. I just have to decide when is it fruitless efforts to keep trying to throw stuff in the air hoping it will land on the good side and put a bit more balance to things.

7. when your in the presence of the people who you allow in your life do you feel drained or energized?  For the most part energized. I'm lucky tohave some wonderful quality people in my life. My personal relationship can be both, usually leaning on the draining side. His ups are amazingly energizing, his downs are unbelievably draining. For me......this is the part that drives me to continue to write, continue to distinguish between the good and the bad and see if there really is any hope left.............

Whew, lol don't even know if I really answered questions or just started thinking again, but it was worth a try. Thanks Jazz :o)

INFP

This is just for me to remember.....personality test results, no need to read. Although I find it interesting I took probably this test 6 years ago and had the same results, 1% of the population. Interesting Indeed. I found the test again via Confessions of a 20something Drama Queen journal.

The personality of a Healer

Healer Idealists are abstract in thought and speech, cooperative in striving for their ends, and informative and introverted in their interpersonal relations. Healer present a seemingly tranquil, and noticiably pleasant face to the world, and though to all appearances they might seem reserved, and even shy, on the inside they are anything but reserved, having a capacity for caring not always found in other types. They care deeply-indeed, passionately-about a few special persons or a favorite cause, and their fervent aim is to bring peace and integrity to their loved ones and the world.

Healers have a profound sense of idealism derived from a strong personal morality, and they conceive of the world as an ethical, honorable place. Indeed, to understand Healers, we must understand their idealism as almost boundless and selfless, inspiring them to make extraordinary sacrifices for someone or something they believe in. The Healer is the Prince or Princess of fairytale, the King's Champion or Defender of the Faith, like Sir Galahad or Joan of Arc. Healers are found in only 1 percent of the general population, although, at times, their idealism leaves them feeling even more isolated from the rest of humanity.

 Healers seek unity in their lives, unity of body and mind, emotions and intellect, perhaps because they are likely to have a sense of inner division threaded through their lives, which comes from their often unhappy childhood. Healers live a fantasy-filled childhood, which, unfortunately, is discouraged or even punished by many parents. In a practical-minded family, required by their parents to be sociable and industrious in concrete ways, and also given down-to-earth siblings who conform to these parental expectations, Healers come to see themselves as ugly ducklings. Other types usually shrug off parental expectations that do not fit them, but not the Healers. Wishing to please their parents and siblings, but not knowing quite how to do it, they try to hide their differences, believing they are bad to be so fanciful, so unlike their more solid brothers and sisters. They wonder, some of them for the rest of their lives, whether they are OK. They are quite OK, just different from the rest of their family-swans reared in a family of ducks. Even so, to realize and really believe this is not easy for them. Deeply committed to the positive and the good, yet taught to believe there is evil in them, Healers can come to develop a certain fascination with the problem of good and evil, sacred and profane. Healers are drawn toward purity, but can become engrossed with the profane, continuously on the lookout for the wickedness that lurks within them. Then, when Healers believe thay have yielded to an impure temptation, they may be given to acts of self-sacrifice in atonement. Others seldom detect this inner turmoil, however, for the struggle between good and evil is within the Healer, who does not feel compelled to make the issue public.

Absorption

The Truth that lies in between can be the root of dissatisfaction. I know for myself sometimes I wander throughout my days knowing I should be doing something, anything, other then what I'm up too. Some better purpose, something more poignant. Things that are comfortable can sometimes be so confining. At what point do you stand up to the world and make a profound statement, or, possibly, just smile, shrug your shoulders and be happy that things are comfortable and sometimes even stable.

How can you not admire someone who makes the ultimate life change, bravery at it's finest. You hear about the women who quits her corporate job to stay home and make jars of jam that now has made her a millionare. The man who gave up ABC to start XYZ and now paints all day, writes through the night and is never bothered with such things like alarm clocks and contracts.

One of my favorite things to ask people when I am studying what makes them "tick" is .......if tomorrow you woke up and didn't have to go to work, didn't ever have to worry about money again <much like winning the lottery I guess> what exactly would you do with the rest of your life. If you want to find out someone's deep down loves, interests, likes, this is the question to ask. With freedom comes exploration. I've heard answers from Golf all day, sew all day, travel the world, read, write, camping, fishing, the list could go on and on. Some answers involve work, ie start a new business, charity, foundations, those people with the ever present driving force of productivity on a business aspect which is fine if that is what would make you peacefully happy and "whole."

 Of course the absorbtion that goes on within includes all the personal, all that is professional, all that represents me as a mother and in my physical and emotional relationships. Absorbing, enlisting, encoding and managing. What is most important right now, what can wait till next week, what can I accept right now, and what is unacceptable in the long run. As soon as you try to take simple and define it into the classic pro and con grouping, you receive complex and down right irritating solutions. If your not careful it could swallow your thoughts intact.

 Rambling, thats what I'm good at. I'm not unhappy in life, I'm content, and with content comes a yearning for something more. Something I feel down to my core is missing. Maybe it's the love piece of the puzzle, maybe it's the "I'm not sure the job I do daily" is what I was meant to do, I think I have the Mother role down really well. My daughters are amazing, and wonderful, bright and talented, and although they don't live with a typical "mother father married" world they have always seemed happy and well adjusted. So much love is heaped on them from every direction I have no doubt each day they can feel it from me, their dad, my parents, his parents, aunts, uncles, such a big family, all close knit. If I don't control the family to some degree lol I'd never see my girls, they'd be stolen away by some family member every day.

So it's this missing "feeling" I assess from time to time. See if I can find that shining moment of clarity. Much, I assume, like most people who at some level isn't happy with aspects of their lives. Rambling, thats what I'm good at. So ramble it is in words and mind, a play on the mind, a chess game of sorts within oneself. It's what keeps us journal writers ticking....................

Under The Radar

It's been so long that my family on the whole has slipped under the radar, no family tragedies, no sickness, just plain and simple life. Yet, this last month that safe world came to a crashing halt. First my Uncle Don, lung cancer and cancer just about everywhere else, dead 3 weeks after diagnosis. Then Aunt Janis, breast cancer, one masectomy, and incrediably sick right now with chemo. Then my Mother, breast cancer, one masectomy and then the news this morning, didn't get enough, they only got within 1mm of the cancer.....expected distance is one centimeter, so off to another surgery we go. Then a secret only told to my Mother and I, another Aunt Dororty, breast cancer, surgery next week. She thinks the family is under too much stress to add her new burden. Is this unreal?? Is this really for real?? We had our "three" enough already. A fourth just isn't necessary . I went from going to the doctors office and checking the :NO: box for history of cancer to next time I go The :yes: box, lots of it. Now is seems at the ripe age of 32 I've been advised to start yearly mammograms. Something in the water they all drank this year? Who the hell knows, just alarmingly ironic. I don't know just how many of these "freezes beautifully dishes" I can come up with. If anyone knows a great "she's too sick to cook" recipe please pass it on! The holidays are coming and all these beautiful women are worried about how they will pull off their favorite time of the year. I imagine I will be decorating a whole lot of houses. One of the interesting aspects of this entire situation has been watching the reaction of all the men. It's been a bit of a huge wake up call to my Father and my Uncles. I have to say I believe they are looking at their wives with a whole new appreciation. It's hard to see them all scared, not sure what to do, much like how I feel.

 The more that is placed in our laps the more my issues with God and religion have surfaced. I plan on attending Church again on Sunday, see if that divine moment when all that everyone else seems to be in on, clicks with me. I still haven't been able to bring myself to pray, but there's something there, something to be discussed and mused upon. I appreciate the prayers and good thoughts from all whom know me. I know because of my asking, there are alot of people out there praying for my family and I do take comfort in that. I appreciate the letters that have been arriving at my home from people I don't even know. There's such a beautiful something surrounding everyone in the "club" of God and I do admire it. I've just yet to figure out where in I fit. But I will continue to try, continue to explore and attempt to open myself up to the possibilities.

The Puzzle of Love

I was strolling through some of the journals I frequent and one of the J-land journals I probably read the most religiously got me thinking again of the enigma of love. I posted a comment and realized I probably could have written a novel of a comment. So here's my comment and then if I may eleborate.........written to Tiffany and her wonderful journal The Infinite Last Days

Love, tis an interesting concept. It can be glorious, filled with hope and laughter, fun and inspiration where you feel you'd lay down your life for someone. I've been there where nothing seems like it could ever destroy it, change it. But with all things wonderful it's still a chance you take, opening up your heart and your soul. Love has taken me soaring above the clouds and it's also taken me humbly to the ditch. Even with that said, it's still worth the risk. I'm afraid to also admit I've taken love for granted, and when it was truly magical and amazing I didn't even realise what a precious thing I had, twas the worst kind of extravagence. But with age and time comes a new outlook and I'm happy to say I don't think I could make a mistake like that again. Take care and keep smiling!
Rebecca
http://journals.aol.com/justaname4me2/InTheShadowOfTheIris/
Comment from justaname4me2 - 11/11/04 9:18 AM

After I made that comment I started thinking about the types of love I've experienced. Since I don't think love can truly be defined and I do absoulutely think you can experience such different levels of love and yet it can all certainly fall into the "love category." I think back to grade school love. The type where you pass a note with the >check the box< if your answer is YES. Then you proceed to consider that boy your boyfriend yet never actually talk. I had a boyfriend from 5-6th grade, Brett, whom I probably never spoke more the 10 sentances too. But when he looked at me, or we passed in the hallway, I had butterflies and anticipation. I just knew I loved him! Then through the junior and high school times. Boyfriends and crushes that felt so powerful I couldn't swallow and would write for hours about my infatuation. Then a low spot, when all my wrong choices had caught up with me and a knight in shining armor came along. Steve. 18 and in love. He swept me from the perilous tunnel in which I was falling and helped me stand back on my feet. Grateful love. Inseperable needy love. I fell in love with this man as anyone would with their future husband. Married young, baby by the time I was 20, another when I was 23, it felt at the time like it would be forever. But pressure and youth, babies and bills, missed dreams and yearnings clouded the euphoria and slowly my love turned into suffocation. Back to dating, with a few misses here and there and another great love. Tom, the love that still haunts me. It's purity, his unconditional love, held above all with no expectations. He took what I gave and gave without regard. He gave and gave and I took and took. Long distance love it was. Denver to Idaho, such a long distance. Was almost fairytale, with wonderful trips, long talks on the phone, never muddled with topics of bills and housecleaning. I don't know if it was because my age and inexperience a late 20's woman spinning around juggling two lives, or the lonely nights away from him, but I let that love go to have something more permenant, something daily here in Idaho. I was asked <predelete> about the name of this journal and it comes from a song. A song wrote out in words handwritten  by this man. A song that even to this day emerges across the radio, the tv, movies as a reminder of what true unconditional all giving love was. It's called Iris.....

AOL Music: Goo Goo Dolls: 'Iris'

It really was the worst kind of extravegence, walking away from something so beautiful. He gave me this song as a reminder. I think he could feel the end was coming. I made a choice and I've had to live with it. Compare it to what I gave up and what I've received in return. All the moments we had, the memories, how can one not compare something so beautiful with what was to come. A new relationship. Fast and furious with an enigma of a man I still try to understand. Passionate and turbulent. A love that is comanding, forceful and confusing. There are times I feel I would die for the man I am with, and sometimes I hate him with just as much passion. I've learned alot with Robert. I've learned a lifetime of answers to my questions about love. I've learned how not to just take, but to give. I've learned how to talk, face to face, when I had an issue,when in the past I would sit in silent suffering. I've learned how to be heartbroken and instead of running like in the past, try to put some effort into fixing things. I guess when I hit my 30's it became a time of reflection and perspective of sorts I couldn't see or feel in my 20's. It's hard though, knowing what magical feels like, what safe feels like, what butterflies and pounding heart can do to a person. To be with one person and think back over life and love and wonder. What would things be like if I had stayed behind one door, or walked down the hall and entered another. Missed opportunities, or glorious chances. I hear about peoples "ahh haa" moments and wonder just how many of those ahh haa moments I'll go through before I figure out the answers I search for. I no longer want to take chances with my heart, I want magical and safe. I let my heart get tossed around enough in my 20's and even into my 30's. So much more to reflect upon..........................

Journal Suicide, >bleep< Resurection

It felt like a good idea at the moment I hit that delete button . Felt like the correct action. But it now in hindsight, was a reaction deletion. Lost words, thoughts, entries to go back on and reflect upon, gone. I guess no matter. Was still a good time to start over. But suddenly I'm feeling a bit lost. Not sure what to write about. Pondering the risks of an open journal verses the safety of private thoughts and words. Journals. I've written in them since I was old enough to remember. I still go back and read the one I wrote circa age 12 and 13. I believe thats my first "official" journal. All the words of advice I gave myself, the future me. I believe I was trying to lay a path in which to follow. Advice only a youngster could appreciate. Example 1) Don't you dare start smoking or drinking! Example 2) Do really good in school and get the best scholarship to the best schools you can 3) Get married around the age of 25 4) Kids about the age of 28........all things that were forgotten and tossed aside during those turbulent late teen years. My teenage journals, full of pain and confusion. Some of things I wrote during those years shock me even now. My 20 year old journal, full of writings of being pregnant. The 30 pages filled while I was up all night alone in labor. The 25 year old journal, talking about the breaking up of a husband and wife and being alone with two girls. The late 20's journals full of inspiration, talking about love, a love that couldn't be, a love I still have the need to work out, understand, even though I've been in another relationship for years since it's demise. My next journals, full of pain and confusion, trying to understand the relationship I've worked so hard to make work. Writing is the choicest of all relics. Writing keeps me inspired. Writing keeps me thinking and challenging all that is real. Writing is a sometimes gentle reminder and also sometimes the "bitch slap" I need when things seem out of control. I love nothing more then to observe the surface and then begin to pull back the layers and see what can be found. Deletion I have decided was truly a permanent solution to a tempory problem.........

Aol seems to have been kind enough to save my counter though, 194 times for 3 entries, ironic moment to see that still there alive a tickin!

Recovery

I'm very pleased to report my Mother seems to be doing really well. The surgery, although long and painful to those sitting in a waiting room all day, went well. My mother seems truly unconcerned about losing a breast to cancer. To her, all she cares about is whether or not they removed any and everything that could possibly conceal any more cancer. I've personally always wanted a bit more padding for the bra area offered to set up a 3 for two special with a local implant doctor and she sighed, laughed and asked why in the world would she need to replace something she didn't even really care about. Perplexed I guess I was. I myself have always dreamed of filling out a nice Victoria Secret bra the way they are "meant" to be filled. But she says she's just fine and not feeling "lacking" in that arena. So I guess if I ever do it, it would be for my own selfish reasons and I couldn't use her situation as an excuse crutch. Yikes, that sounds really bad. I guess in my quest for information I read that most women felt "lacking as a female" after breast cancer surgery. But not my mother. Although I should have known something as cosmetic as a breast is, wouldn't be a true concern of hers. If depth could be measured she'd be miles deep. Never has shown much interest in "material" things, "cosmetic" things, "surface" things. She strolls along, does things that make her happy, crafting, creating, reading, busy busy.

I myself am feeling a bit better this week. Last week I'd like to forget, this coming week I'm looking forward too.  Curiosity got the better of me today and I dusted of the lbs weigher <is that a word?> I thought something was up over the last week, my pants and skirts are sliding off my hips, 10 lbs lost over what I'd guess the last month or so. Stress, lol what a diet. With all the hectic surrounding my life the last two months I failed to realise we are now into November and the holidays are just around the corner. I'm hoping with glorious Thanksgiving coming I'll fully have my appetite back. I have so much to be thankful this year. I have so much to look at, appreciate and be grateful  for. I look forward to the food of course, but alas, it's the Thanksgiving ads that get me really excited. Yes, I am one of "those people" who jostle ourselves out of bed at 5 in the morning on the quest for the all mighty great purchase. Tis the thrill of the hunt. Plus I think I have an extra craving for it this year because I've completed neglected shopping, especially the therapeutic type because I've been so overwhelmingly busy.

Things are feeling fresh and alive again. Which is always a wonderful thing. Just when you think the light at the end of tunnel has been stamped out, you see a flicker of hope and light and it starts to glow brighter.

To All Those Who Have Started Over

To Create: The art of simply writing: Honesty. Sometimes without regard to those who could benefit, or to those who could be hurt. Thats the problem with writing. Thats the problem with the written word, being a relic, being concrete, tis neither black or white. It is what it is. To be dissected, analyzed, interpeted. Taken out of context, or to be understood or misunderstood. Delete at the touch of a button, or a burning party. How many of us have participated in a burning party? All the concrete reminders gone, reduced as they should to ashes. But the memories, no way to delete those, no way to burn those away. A lifetime of memories to be discussed, looked at, reflected upon. No hiding from them. No delete button there. All there inside my head where the walls are black and the roof is red. 

I guess I've found myself in a "middle of the ground" area. A crossroads of sorts. Not sure which path to follow. Which direction would have the least regret. Sometimes the safety in standing still is a humble motion, but. also a cowardly one.

So for now, I'll just keep writing. Discovering, exploring and avoid that delete button.