Bubbles

My thoughts are drawn to that moment in time when it seemed like everything was possible. A moment when reason was humiliated by emotion and trust. Rational thought was replaced with fantasy and hope. Whether fate or luck brought you together, the moment you feel it, you know it. Locked in the moment, enclosed in a feeling. Nothing seems real yet everything seems possible. Hope, for the first time, doesn't feel like a childish pursuit. Because at that moment, in that time, everything felt right.

Bubbles are where love starts. Bubbles are where walls crumbles and fine lines are erased. The thought of wrong or never are distant memories and live only in a time that wasn't everything it could be. YOU were not everything you were meant to be. In that bubble, you become lost in the idea that perfection might be possible. A dream, maybe? But a dream that never seemed so true until that moment. And a dream you cling tightly to when that moment passes.

What happens there is magic. An energy lives in that bubble, and its power can only be know to those who stand inside it. But the walls are fragile. Like a heart, bubbles must be cared for gently. For it's a great deal easier to hurt someone you love when they have completely opened themselves up to you. When they have laid everything on the line and looked into your eyes and said "This is me. Please accept me for who I am. Please cherish me for all that I am. And please do not let my heart feel pain." People allow themselves to become vulnerable because they love you, and they pray with their whole heart you will love them with the same depth and breathe.

Bubbles can not be forced. They can not be made. Bubbles can only exist when two people have truly open their hearts and let another in, fearlessly. The world around you fades into a haze. Nothing else matters. Nothing else means anything. It's that feeling. It's that moment. Nothing else matters. And time. Time speeds by you at a frightening pace. Minutes seem like seconds. The sensation of a touch, a breathe, a look penetrates your heart with ease and abandonment. Captivating you completely. All you can see is what is in front of you. All you can do is give yourself to the moment and live it to its fullest. No regrets. No hesitation. Hold on to that feeling. Fight for it. Never forget it. Love the person who is there in that moment with you. They are special. And your connection is undeniable, unforgetable and precious beyond words.

This was a long time coming...

The ongoing list of uncompromisables

I wanted to start this list because I believe there are certain things in life you shouldn't and can't sell yourself short on. No matter how right, good or perfect life seems, if you've compromised one of the following things, it really isn't as right, good or perfect as it could be.

(In no particular order)

Uncompromisable #1:

PASSION: My personal buzz word and mantra. But the fact remains, if you're not passionate about what you do, why are you doing it? If you're not passionate about who you are, change it. If you're not completely passionate about who you love, don't pretend you are happy.

Life is only worth living if you are dedicated to find what makes you feel alive. Maybe you're not meant to impact the world with earth shattering brilliance, but you are here for a reason. If not for nothing but to make yourself truly happy. Even the decision to begin the journey to discover your passion may be enough to ignite an internal fire. No matter how big or small, or what form your passion comes in, it has to be there. To embrace your passion you have to be fearless. It's not easy but truly great things never all. You have to believe in yourself and trust that if you follow what drives you, you will eventually discover your passion.

There will be more. Passion is just number one.

You are an adult

I'm 25 years old. I am an adult. I am completely able to make my own decisions, pay my own bills, feed myself, live my life day to day.

But even adults need to feel supported. Not with money or things, but with love. Love from family, friends, boyfriends, girlfriends. Needing people in your life doesn't make you less of an adult.

It means you're human.

It means you have needs that another person can help fill. May it be with a hug, an email, a smile, a long sit down, a short cup of coffee. Just because you need something, doesn't mean you're not an adult.

Adults need things that they can only get from other people. No one can do everything, deal with everything, handle everything alone. All of a sudden you don't reach a certain age and PRESTO, you never need anything any more.

Usually, all you're asking for is to be heard and understood. You just need to talk it out without feeling the pressure of being judged or measured. You want to know that someone unconditionally loves you and is willing to listen without prejudiced.

Being an adult doesn't mean you stop needing. It doesn't mean standing alone. It doesn't mean acting in spite. It should mean coming together. Enjoying the here and now and everything wonderful and exciting that comes your way. It should mean living by your instincts and supporting the ones around you who follow theirs. Because, time passes too quickly. And in that short amount of time all you have time to do is follow your heart, and hope that those around you will support, understand and love you like you do them.

I am that kind of adult.

Americana

I feel like it's been years since I had a Friday evening like that one. Just hours before twilight we were playing tennis and enjoying the weather at the park. The sun was just hot enough to make you sweat but not hot enough to make you sweaty. As Brian and I finished, a softball game formed on the field next to us. Softball sounded like much more fun than the miserable tennis match we just had. When they asked if Brian want to play, he jumped at the chance. Redemption.

This group was like something out of a movie. The quintessential good ole boys. Drinking beer in the park, playing softball. 17 year old boys played next to 60 something year old men. There was a Doc and an Art. Of course! A setting like this practically required one.

Disagreements over bad calls and close calls were settled as quickly as they began. Each team umpired their own. Good catches were rewarded with a small cheer and instant recall of the out count. Bad plays were punished with relentless cat calls. Every old man thought he could make the play if he were younger, faster and just a little skinnier. We all think that though. If only.

As a whole, they didn't let much slide. Pat quickly became Patrica as soon as his weak pop out was caught by the pitcher. A nickname like that doesn't subside quickly. But a bobble by the more than capable first baseman that allowed Doc to reach first base received nothing but comments on Docs speed and agility.

Score was kept on loose leaf. But the number of beers in the cooler was a much closely kept count. We ran out. Whoever thought a 12 pack was enough got an ear-full for sure.

From the outside, you would have thought these men have known each other for years. Many of them probably have. Others joined later and were tagged "the young one", "the outfielder" even "the strong one." That was Brian. My nickname? "Roids" Yeah, like steroids. Apparently, any girl who can hit a softball has to be on some sort of performance enhancing drug. I think they were just impressed I could hit at all. I took it as a compliment.

They asked if Brian would play again this Friday. Even though I don't get to play, I still might go. The ease and enjoyment of the evening reminded me how simple life should be. You don't have to be going going all the time to find pleasure in life. Pleasure on Friday night came in the form of a beer, some bases and good company.

Bottler

Sometimes the littlest things make me crabby. At least I thought. Turns out upon further review, it isn't actually that one thing at that one particular moment that REALLY made me crabby. My crabbiness actually stems from something that happened weeks ago - in some instances months ago.

I'm a bottler. I keep things in. Make them "OK" instead of getting them out in the open. Words don't come easily. I clam up. I ignore it. I make it "go away."

(I know. All highly effective ways of dealing with personal issues.)

I sit, looking calm and collect on the outside, whilst on the inside the pressure builds. Like a bottle of expensive champagne moments from blowing it's cork sky high. Pity on the poor soul who gets hosed when I finally blow.

I try very hard not to be a willing participant. I try to keep the bubbles in check. I try to let out enough air to keep the bubbly liquid inside...well harmlessly bubbly.

We're all bottlers in a way. We keep things inside. We hold our tongue. We find ourselves holding back.

So why then are there times when I can't close my mouth fast enough.

Most normal people can keep their mind in check. They manage their thoughts, sharing what's appropriate and holding back what's not.

Sounds so simple!
Touche! I think my meter is busted. Because I'm "THAT GIRL" who blurts out the absolute wrong thing at the worst time. At the times when I desperately need to be a bottler, I can't quite get the filter up fast enough. Maybe I was built backwards or inside out. The things that are suppose to stay in, fly out. The things that I should share, never quit make it to the surface unless forced.

It's a work in progress.

Down deep

Do you listen to yourself? Deep down? Do you listen to that little voice that tells you when things are good and right and when things are bad and wrong?

It's hard to believe that intuition is real. You can't pinpoint exact moments and say, "There, intuition told me to do that." You just do it because something very small inside said to.

I used to think that some things were meant to be. Lately, I don't know. Some things are only meant to be, if you mean them to be. If you do something to physically allow them to be. If you wait around for them to magically happen, they aren't going to. And deep down you know what you have to do to make them happen. So why don't I?

Maybe, I just don't want to believe. Maybe it's too hard. Maybe it's just not meant to be. Maybe those are all excuses because I'm scared. Now that I think about it, that seems about right.

Get over it

When all else fails, is the easiest way to stop obsessing over something is to simply get over it? Seriously. I don't think it works like. But what if it did. You could just stop feeling sorry for yourself. Stop wishing you could change the past. Stop believing if you pray hard enough that magically time will stop, reverse and let you do the whole thing over again.

That's the thing about life. It just keeps going.

The only truly valuable thing you can get out of it the shear experience of the emotion. Stop for just a second and let it all soak in. The hurt. The pain. The love. The thrill. The fear. Whatever it is, give yourself a second to feel it.

Eventually, you won't feel like that anymore. You will move on, experience better, worse and different things. But you will always remember what it was like at that time in that moment.

Maybe the thought of those emotions will make you act differently in the future. Maybe they will drive you act the same. Maybe that won't change you at all. But that's the beauty of life...you have lots of time to figure it out.

Crap

It's just one of those days. Nothing feels right. Nothing sounds right. Nothing is right. And there isn't one damn thing I can do about it.

I let it get to me. I let it ruin my day and affect my work. That just makes me more frustrated. More annoyed. Less productive.

Crap. It's hard to turn it around. To make myself drop it. Stop thinking about things I can't control. Move forward. Be happy.

Right now...I'm not. I can't get happy. I can't want to do good work. I'm annoyed and frustrated because I can't make it better. I can't make it better because there's nothing to make better. So it is what it is, and I am what I am.

Annoyed.
Crabby.
Frustrated.
Disappointed.

Listen to the music

Now, I have to admit. Until last year, I had never seen Dave Matthews Band live. I know. I know. Where have I been? But of course the show did not disappoint. The second most entertaining thing (trailing quite a ways behind the hottie Dave himself) was the variety of people who came out. And let me tell you, there were some interesting folks out in full force.

As I sit in my office at work almost a full year later one girl still stands out in my mind. The dave song playing in my headphones reminds me of her. She definetly deserves a shout out.

We'll call her Dancing Girl. I fully understand that it isn't polite to stare, and I would have gladly ignored her had she not been dancing RIGHT in front of me. I almost got hit by a flailing arm a time or two. She was all over the place.

Now, Dancing Girl did just that. She danced her little tail feathers off all night, to every song, start to finish. It was like seeing Dave was a religious experience for her. Every song spoke to her. She was a woman possessed by the rhythm and soul of Dave. She was the living-breathing model of "dance like no one is watching."

She make me wonder. Why we can't all let go like that? (Obviously, not to the point where we threaten to injury those around us, but you know what I mean.) Why can't we all just throw our arms above our head and wiggle our little b-hinds to the beat of our own music? What's holding us back from having our own little quasi-religious, freeing moment?

Personally, I think its fear. It's fear of losing control, fear of failing, fear of not being accepted, fear of ridicule. Everyone has fear, but at what point do we grow out of being fearful and become strong. At what point do we stand up for what we believe in and who we are and just....DANCE?

Little do we know the strength to shake your groove thang is within reach. All we have to do is lean over, grab the dial and turn up the music. Because friend, it's time to dance.

Why we can't just let it be

I was talking to my mom this morning, and she brought up something I haven't thought about in a long, long time. This blog is inspired by her. Thanks, Mom! See you Friday!

Have you ever believed something so much, with all your heart, that to you it seems obvious. The only way. Of course you have. Everyone has. And facing someone who doesn't agree with you is so frustrating. All you want to do is shake them and scream in their face that they are wrong - so horribly wrong.

But for some reason they just don't see it. They can't. They're either in too deep, too stubborn or they simply believe that you are wrong and they are right.

The more you push, the more they dig their heels in. They more you try to reason, the more they hunker down determined to prove you and your silly opinion wrong. All you can think is "How can you be so dumb? Can't you see it's wrong? It's all wrong for you!"

The answer is no. They can't see it.

If it's wrong - if it's really wrong for them - they will figure it out. They will learn and grow and maybe one day they will see it the way you see it. Only then will they believe you and appreciate your wisdom. But the hardest part is letting them realize it on their own. When you back someone into a corner, defenses go up and right or wrong they will defend themselves and their decisions to a fault. Their mission to prove you wrong becomes more important than anything else in the world.

No one wants to be wrong. No one wants to admit they made a mistake.

I imagine (I can only imagine) that this is the hardest thing to do as a parent. Watching your child do something that you don't agree with. You want nothing more than to protect them from the inevitable. You want to give them all the answers. It's hard to step back and let them - knowing full well that it's wrong.

I guess as a parent you grow along with your child. You can't understand these things. You can't prepare yourself for them. All you can do it learn from them. And this thing - it won't last forever. It will pass. Then they will understand that you were right and whatever it was...it was wrong.

But you learn and you grow. And you take what you learn and keep living life.