Universe, I hear ya

I'm of the belief, given recent events, that the universe speaks to you. It does. At times, what it's trying to say can be hard to pin point. But I believe it tries to tell us things. Maybe it's trying to say we're not alone. Or that you're making a mistake and it's not too late. Maybe it's trying to say, you'll be o.k. And it speaks in a million different ways to different people. It could be a song playing on a radio, the mention of a name, something someone says, a random weird thing you run across that makes you stop. It could be seeing a cardinal at the park, outside your house and again on your way to work. Today, I feel like all those little things are screaming at me.

I've always been a hyper-observant person. I see things all around me that normal people don't notice. Little things. Like the letters on a license plate or the repetition of numbers on a hotel room door (I always seem to run across the number 351. It's weird.) Maybe I'm looking for connections. Maybe they are a little far fetched. But that doesn't mean they are any less there for me. Do you ever feel like that? Like you are constantly being assaulted with signs, and you have no clue what they mean.

Right now, the world is screaming at me, and I am clueless.

A little help here, Universe. I don't quite speak your language.

Hit the road

It's been awhile since I've really felt like I've had something worth writing about. Interesting that it usually takes something tragic or overwhelming to make me want to write. I have to be busting with emotion, good or bad, to really have the desire to put something down on paper or screen. Ah, the tumultuous life of a writer.

Can you imagine if the only time it was possible to write something worthwhile is if your life was in turmoil? There had to be this constant push and pull from within to drive you to write something. I would hate to believe that my life could ever be in so much upheaval. Maybe it is, and I just can't see it.

Right now I'm at a crossroads. I'm at a point in my life where things are about to change. Stepping forward is just a scary as standing still. Thinking nothing is almost as overwhelming as letting every thought in at once. Nothing is just as big of an obstacle as everything.

Which brings me to the present and my road.

The greatest disappointment in life would be to shy away from the things that make you most scared. To assume that nothing is worth the greatest risk. To stop believing in what your heart is trying to tell you. The greatest disappointment in life would be to hold steadfast on a path because it's easy. To avoid stretching yourself, convincing yourself that what lies ahead is not worth the leap of faith. Not only would that be the greatest disappointment, it might also be my greatest failure.

Then why is it still so hard to walk forward?

The coming

Welcome Tucker. You are now apart of the family. Although you cannot and will not ever take the place of those who have come before you, you are great in and of yourself.

You have spunk. (But really only when you're around people you are completely comfortable with and only between the hours of 5 a.m. and 7a.m. and 6 p.m. and 8 p.m.)

You have an adventurous spirit. (You will go out of your way to sniff anything for as long as it is humanly possible and still not feel it has been thoroughly sniffed. But you will not let anyone walk up to you and pet you without cowering behind the nearest covering. What gives?)

Although most days you are a horrible sissy and giant mamas boy, I'll keep you. The last thing I need when I get home is a little mongrel who thinks he can boss me around.

Last night you actually got your head stuck INSIDE one of your balls. Comedy quickly ensued. Serves you right. Stop chewing holes in your toys, and shit like that won't happen to you anymore.


And yes. He DOES get to come to work, but only after he has been sufficiently exercised in the morning.

The passing

My fish died. Karch died.

I know you can't really see him very well in that picture, but he's there. Look by the leaf. That's him.

I found him the other night, eyes bulging, fins flipping. I fished him out of his tank and flushed him. As he went down the drain, I burst into tears. Yes. I cried over the death of my fish.

He wasn't even a nice fish. Sometimes he was downright mean. He battled every fish I ever put in that tank with him. He even survived a weekend when Shrek went rogue and started cannibalizing two other fish in the tank. Corky (he was mildly deformed with a hole in his fin) died from his injuries. Tigger (because he was stripped) was found completely without fins and helpless. He also met a watery grave that night. But Karch, he was a fighter. With only minor injuries, he lived.

After that night, I didn't put anymore fish in the tank. Karch began his life as a bachelor.

That little fish had gumption. He was feisty. I think that's why I liked him. He was always smaller than all the other fish that came and went from the tank, but no one ever pushed him around. He really was the fish that wouldn't die. He was with me for almost 2 years. That's a long time for a little tiger barb to stick around.

When I found him and finally flushed him, like I said, I cried. Not just a single tear on my face either. Big, sorrowful crocodile tears poured from my eyes. That stupid little fish left me. After everything we'd been through. I was so sad. They were the kind of tears that wouldn't stop. For some reason, flushing that fish made me feel so helpless and small.

I think that little fish represented a lot of things in my life. Growing older, growing up, moving on, moving forward. And although I'm positive the tears were a product of a million other things all lumped together, losing Karch was the last straw.

I hope you rest in peace, Karch. You were a good fish. You taught me many things, and if nothing else, you made me realize a lot of things about myself.

Bring it in. Bring it out.

Sometimes there are people in your life that bring out the best in you. They make you think and inspire you to do things you might not otherwise try. For some reason, conversation comes easily and whatever you talk about seems like the most important topic in the world. Contemplating how grass grows becomes interesting. Suddenly, even the unimportant questions and answers become important.

Sometimes you bring out the best in other people and you don't even know it. Just by being you, you make them come out of their shell and reveal that person they didn't even know was inside them.

By being a good person, you can make others around you better. By opening up, you may find a better person inside than you started with. By refusing to settle for what is in front of you, you can get to a new place, a better place. What is easy is not always what is right.

Your Person

There's this person. I can pretty much tell them everything. I just can't help it. Sometimes I don't even want to tell them, but I tell them anyways because I can't hide anything from them. But I know I can fearlessly lay it all out there, and know that they will still love me. They won't judge me. They understand how my heart and my mind work. They get me. And in turn, I get them.

As well as my person knows me, I know them that well in return. I would do anything if I knew it could make them smile. I would sit and listen as long as they needed me to. I would do anything for them.

A person like this is special. We have a connection that can't be explained and certainly not understood at times.

They know things. They know when something is wrong without a word spoken. They know when to dig and when to leave it alone.

They know I'm not perfect. No one is. And they love me for my faults and mistakes, as well as my successes and victories.

They are my protection and strength.

Even when I feel like I've rambled on and on about the same problem over and over again, they still listen. They still try to help even though there is no solution.

That's what a person does. They are unconditional. They are irreplaceable.

They are the person who keeps wiping tears away even though they know they are still more coming. They are the person who hugs you because they think you need it, and hugs you even if you don't need it.

They have an open heart and a gentle mind. They have patience lined with tolerance. And though they will not judge, the very thought of them makes me want to be a better person. They know the kind of person you can be. They can see it in you. A person wants to help you not just see it but believe it, too.

They are your shoulder to cry on and a friend to laugh with. You love them for who they are. Because people like that should be cherished and never ever forsaken.

Thank you, my person.

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.