- This Carman Girl
Friday, October 10, 2014
Creation
Imagine if we let go of other people's stories and allowed them to experience us for themselves? Imagine if we didn't formulate their response just so we could provide ourselves with damage control? Imagine if we let go of the need to be loved in the way we demand it and only ever returned love in full - generously, and for always? Give love; be love. No matter what.
- This Carman Girl
Innocence
When my youngest son was a toddler, he came to me, pulling at his ears complaining that they hurt. With all the innocence of a child, he said, "I think I have ear compassion." The sweetness of his mistake poured into my heart at just how profound his declaration really was.
For all of our families, friends, loved ones - would that we could practice ear compassion rather than infection. Gentleness, love, allowance. The interpretation we're looking for is only ever returned by the grace or graceless manner of our own expectations and intent; if we want love and healing, then ear compassion is where it is. Oh, little Mister - beautiful!
- This Carman Girl
Shadows of Kings
There are moments in our lives - sometimes days, hours, perhaps even weeks - when the things we grapple with most create a divide of loneliness, difficulty, angst and unease. Somber and deep, a heavy blanket of melancholy sets in even when there is possible resolution or direction. Unfulfilled wanting wells up within our hearts and sets its pace to a listless, irregular, thrumming beat of simple aching.
A few years ago, I had such a moment descend, felt tears behind my eyes and allowed my thoughts to drift toward settling for the old since the parameters of pain were ones I already knew. Fear of the unknown cliff and what would or would not happen, lay before me in the stark black stretch of evening as I drove in aimless direction. I felt compelled to visit a bookstore and would have laughed at how completely ridiculous it was since it could be little more than an internal ploy considering my unquenchable voracity for books. But more soberly, I found myself directed to one that I rarely frequented.
Lost in the contemplation of dreams, goals, wants, needs, desire and even thoughtful dissection of what had transpired in my life up until that point, I entered the store. As this one was set up entirely differently than my favorite location, I passed through sections and topics I wouldn't normally have seen. I fingered volumes and sifted through books about love, life, transition and release, and then found myself drawn to the section of biographies.
A stillness descended within my soul as my eyes took in numerous books dedicated to the telling of lives. Secrets, experiences, knowledge. Illness. Triumph. Greatness. War. Slavery. Art. There were so many. Volumes upon volumes of famous and little known people who graced our world and left their mark. And almost unwittingly, I fell into awe and reverence.
I considered different stories and looked at multitudes of people. I remembered with fondness, actors, newsmen, leaders, and authors who taught us more than we would think to teach ourselves. And then I realized with humbling clarity that I was surrounded by greatness. More than that, I was surrounded by ordinary people who with no more nor less opportunity than I, chose to leap beyond their own fears to reach with unfaltering grace for their highest potential. To dare to risk for the right of their own consequence.
I felt warmth, light, peace, presence. Their presence. As if thousands of voices were filling my soul with the experience of centuries and gifting me with the profound knowledge that every moment I, too, had opportunity to walk within my own greatness; that what separated them from me was choice. And what would merge my spirit with theirs would be lack of cowardice and the stalwart determination to freely accept new direction.
I marveled at how sweetly and tenderly my every need was met that night. Great care had been extended to me by an ever-loving, all-knowing Heavenly Father. I understood then more than I ever had, that those things we cling to can be let go and that change and transition are ours to take. That we are never alone.
I left lighter, freer, higher. A smile singing through my veins and an appreciation in tears that fell from my cheeks for the grace of those who chose to accept opportunity, and left this earth having not only fulfilled their own greatness, but left footprints and lessons so that we could walk within ours.
Lost in the contemplation of dreams, goals, wants, needs, desire and even thoughtful dissection of what had transpired in my life up until that point, I entered the store. As this one was set up entirely differently than my favorite location, I passed through sections and topics I wouldn't normally have seen. I fingered volumes and sifted through books about love, life, transition and release, and then found myself drawn to the section of biographies.
A stillness descended within my soul as my eyes took in numerous books dedicated to the telling of lives. Secrets, experiences, knowledge. Illness. Triumph. Greatness. War. Slavery. Art. There were so many. Volumes upon volumes of famous and little known people who graced our world and left their mark. And almost unwittingly, I fell into awe and reverence.
I considered different stories and looked at multitudes of people. I remembered with fondness, actors, newsmen, leaders, and authors who taught us more than we would think to teach ourselves. And then I realized with humbling clarity that I was surrounded by greatness. More than that, I was surrounded by ordinary people who with no more nor less opportunity than I, chose to leap beyond their own fears to reach with unfaltering grace for their highest potential. To dare to risk for the right of their own consequence.
I felt warmth, light, peace, presence. Their presence. As if thousands of voices were filling my soul with the experience of centuries and gifting me with the profound knowledge that every moment I, too, had opportunity to walk within my own greatness; that what separated them from me was choice. And what would merge my spirit with theirs would be lack of cowardice and the stalwart determination to freely accept new direction.
I marveled at how sweetly and tenderly my every need was met that night. Great care had been extended to me by an ever-loving, all-knowing Heavenly Father. I understood then more than I ever had, that those things we cling to can be let go and that change and transition are ours to take. That we are never alone.
I left lighter, freer, higher. A smile singing through my veins and an appreciation in tears that fell from my cheeks for the grace of those who chose to accept opportunity, and left this earth having not only fulfilled their own greatness, but left footprints and lessons so that we could walk within ours.
- This Carman Girl
Gown of Glory
No one can imagine what lives inside any one of us. People can hear stories, trade rumors, and live off even the false perceptions of the ones in question. But at some point, the highs and lows and the unpredictable chaos of withering thought will be felt for what they are - unworthy of a child of God who was blessed with limitless potential and infinite worth. Then, and only then, will each come to a place that will challenge the theory, environment, and the social acceptance of being slightly less than; rising up fully and magnificently to walk in a confidence of stature that offers allowance, ease, and softness, dwelling in a well-spring of love that is sustained by a wealth of stunning, glorious happiness. To Live Joy and then pass it on to others.
- This Carman Girl
Nights in Inverness
When we truly love someone, we can't see for the breathing. We can't imagine sharing or seeking even light ego fulfillment from anyone else. All unconscious need to stand out, be seen or be validated finds awareness for what it is - a relative advertisement that we haven't yet committed to even ourselves and would rather struggle with empty. A faltering attempt to think that flattery might bring pseudo self-completion.
But real Love, the kind that steals your soul and takes your breath, it can't think past anything but the rewards and sanctity of being so connected that two would always be One, oblivious to all else. One spirit, one Love. One Lifetime. Forever taken. Having stared into the eyes of a soul mate where ego is not only forgotten, but recognizes with the intensity of eternity that flaws are merely insignificant shadows to be loved into light.
To have found and shared the depths of self in such binding power and exchange that all perceptions see only each other as we are now, enough - untainted from life, history or circumstance. Potent. Pure. Stature that is undaunted, unbound, unchanged. Fearless. A love forged in the fires of steel, melded together in a heated conflagration of mutual claim, trust and devotion. Hands locked. Focused. Smithing complete, refined through the growth of pounding dedication against an anvil in meticulous workmanship that would meet the duration of ages, centuries from now. Purpose united as laughter cools temperatures from the licking flames of desire into the lasting, lilting play of lovers brought together into life outside of longing. Popping sparks, jeweled glow.
Echos, shadows, smoke and scent - all witness to the journey taken, the profound Love in the moment and the sweet promises of memories yet to be made. Reflections of two dancing through time, giddy for experience, and eager to thrive upon the finished surface and honed strength of a tested metal. Equal, honorable. Exquisite inlays speaking of the bond as it is and yet plain and true for all to see.
Flinging wide the heavy wooden doors of disappointment to leave the cumbersome behind and step into the dawn of a new day. A new era. A new state of being - where flaunting joy and yielding to the blinding happiness of sharing vulnerability, finds a realm and world so intimate that it sustains in richness and glory a relationship that would. Welded together for always in loyalty, legacy and enduring union. Branding credence to the thought that nothing is difficult for the willing and everything is gained from Loving.
There is no One else.
- This Carman Girl
But real Love, the kind that steals your soul and takes your breath, it can't think past anything but the rewards and sanctity of being so connected that two would always be One, oblivious to all else. One spirit, one Love. One Lifetime. Forever taken. Having stared into the eyes of a soul mate where ego is not only forgotten, but recognizes with the intensity of eternity that flaws are merely insignificant shadows to be loved into light.
To have found and shared the depths of self in such binding power and exchange that all perceptions see only each other as we are now, enough - untainted from life, history or circumstance. Potent. Pure. Stature that is undaunted, unbound, unchanged. Fearless. A love forged in the fires of steel, melded together in a heated conflagration of mutual claim, trust and devotion. Hands locked. Focused. Smithing complete, refined through the growth of pounding dedication against an anvil in meticulous workmanship that would meet the duration of ages, centuries from now. Purpose united as laughter cools temperatures from the licking flames of desire into the lasting, lilting play of lovers brought together into life outside of longing. Popping sparks, jeweled glow.
Echos, shadows, smoke and scent - all witness to the journey taken, the profound Love in the moment and the sweet promises of memories yet to be made. Reflections of two dancing through time, giddy for experience, and eager to thrive upon the finished surface and honed strength of a tested metal. Equal, honorable. Exquisite inlays speaking of the bond as it is and yet plain and true for all to see.
Flinging wide the heavy wooden doors of disappointment to leave the cumbersome behind and step into the dawn of a new day. A new era. A new state of being - where flaunting joy and yielding to the blinding happiness of sharing vulnerability, finds a realm and world so intimate that it sustains in richness and glory a relationship that would. Welded together for always in loyalty, legacy and enduring union. Branding credence to the thought that nothing is difficult for the willing and everything is gained from Loving.
There is no One else.
- This Carman Girl
Chalkboards
We are more concerned with the education gaps between minority and socioeconomic structure, cycling needless data around in a poor attempt to process social advancement, then truly getting down to the simple business of teaching. Let our teachers teach. The power to excel lies in the stoked fires of imagination.
- This Carman Girl
Vacation
Contentment should not be mistaken for complacency. Contentment is a shrewd, open and a fluid state of being that can achieve all levels of personal success - spiritual, emotional and economic - because it sits within a clarity void of negative emotion. It can execute with precision and reap the rewards of being human with none of the guilt or fallout. Contentment can only operate from a foundation of happiness. Keys to success.
- This Carman Girl
Speed of Light
What I am feeling in this moment...
Blissful. Clean. So clean. Untethered in such a way as to never succumb to being reined in or cornered again - a yielding of control. A delicious embrace in rising to meet each unknown with anticipation, exuberance and allowance. Every day endowed with abundant blessings gifting opportunity, introspection, growth and vision. A future spoken into reality by the magnificent power of thought, word and deed - harnessed and released at will into the pulse of this life. Living expression, loving determination, and always limitless energy.
Blissful. Clean. So clean. Untethered in such a way as to never succumb to being reined in or cornered again - a yielding of control. A delicious embrace in rising to meet each unknown with anticipation, exuberance and allowance. Every day endowed with abundant blessings gifting opportunity, introspection, growth and vision. A future spoken into reality by the magnificent power of thought, word and deed - harnessed and released at will into the pulse of this life. Living expression, loving determination, and always limitless energy.
I find myself absorbed in compassion, introspection, wisdom and understanding - basking in the bliss and satisfaction of sentient being. The ticking clock of mortal time falling way to things of so much more import; its rhythm and steady chime no longer pounding points of frenetic intent and anxious need. Softening. Quieting. A suspension of breath into the cognizance of now as sounds become sighs and connection after connection of eternal consequence slide deeper into the well of my center in all the ways that matter.
I feel power and vitality, contentment in my own dominion. I am in such a way as to have released all fear. I am, because my truth is. And to live within truth means to also exist within enduring love - a love that disallows dissension and division as it entreats, thrives and dwells within harmony.
For truth evolves for everyone; it is a recognition of the grace and fruits of its timing and the knowledge that where we are, as we are and who we are, could not be more perfect than the moment we're in. And it is enough.
Truth flourishes where love is; and oh, to create that welcoming space so as to give nurturing for others to find their own purchase! To not be impatient in the process - to love, live, see and feel all of it. Now. To seek the myriad of colors and angles found when refraction from one might find similarity within another. To realize that we are all travelers alike, moving along waves of varying size but all the same frequency.
I am sated, replete. Unconfined. I am, in all the ways I never thought I could or would be. If I could change anything, it would be that I wouldn't require some of the painful catalysts that inevitably bring me to this side of my soul. That I am not compelled to see, but rather able to see.
Even so, this place I'm in... this place is Radiant. Give love; be love.
Love,
Becca
- This Carman Girl
Studio Lighting
I love photography. I'm bound by exquisite essays of human existence found in-depth for all to see in the black and white images of time and circumstance. I want to run my hands along the rich texture, nuance and vision that takes layer upon layer of life experience and captures them in compositions of poignant possession and raw abandon.
It's behaviors and idealism suspended in fine-edged lines, shadowed suggestion and brilliant light. Varying grains of perspective, beseeching notice, petitioning all humans to broaden their lens to wide-angle amplitude. It's sight beyond narrow vision and an outlook of all-encompassing awareness in the spectrum of reciprocity.
Can you imagine the self-acceptance that would lend dark rooms better filters and finer processing? Can you imagine changes in perception, as what might have been found abstract, becomes universal recognition? Inimitable wonder. Joy. Pleasure. Happiness.
Sigh... that would be a still life of the world captured in Resonance.
- This Carman Girl
Thorns
There's always a hint of jealousy or fear behind every disdainful remark. I say, Don't give into either - Give love; be love. With each breath and thought, seek light, compassion, and allowance. Live joy and plant seeds among the weeds, for truly the green will indeed spring forth.
There is exquisite beauty waiting to be found - hope within every person - hope that may be buried under layers of disappointment or lack of the right nourishment. Any negativity is simply evidence of protective thorns developed from sadness and untruth.
Hope is a living vibrant verb; it is rooted in emotion and developed in action yet always sustained by truth. Let all of its gifts inspire. See the green and let sweetness rain down to quench the dry and barren recesses of anyone who may need to see their worth enough to prune the pricks of fear and let go of discontent. Just do it. Lift, love, smile...
- This Carman Girl
There is exquisite beauty waiting to be found - hope within every person - hope that may be buried under layers of disappointment or lack of the right nourishment. Any negativity is simply evidence of protective thorns developed from sadness and untruth.
Hope is a living vibrant verb; it is rooted in emotion and developed in action yet always sustained by truth. Let all of its gifts inspire. See the green and let sweetness rain down to quench the dry and barren recesses of anyone who may need to see their worth enough to prune the pricks of fear and let go of discontent. Just do it. Lift, love, smile...
- This Carman Girl
Antique Lace
Love is first. Always. Fear, worry and confusion can be so consuming as to drown out all evidence of light; and yet Love is ever constant, quiet, unassuming. It waits patiently to be discovered and then gently entreats us to receive its power by not only opening our eyes, but remembering to listen.
- This Carman Girl
Atom Eve
Those of us who continue to push ourselves to be better, faster, stronger - to overcome hurdles, create life and to give to full capacity - must take time to allow for the possibility that we are just human. And although every fiber within us thrives on passion, generosity, and a lust for life, we must remember to simply take time to be. Take time to feel. To cry. To nourish and give to self. Recharge.
We are powerhouses, recognized, looked up to, and needed as such. In that, there is great responsibility to remain so - not only because we can, but it is who we are and what we are meant to be. None of that can be sustained in endless energy unless we take the time to pull off the superhuman gloves once in a while to rest. After all, it is in the moments that we pause that the most active giving begins; it is where self meets silence so that wisdom can be heard, awareness finds insight, and rest sharpens our vision. But more than any of that, it teaches others that our needs are important and reminds us to receive.
- This Carman Girl
Family
No one can steal our time unless it is time not well spent. Service has a purpose and its timing is generally never our own. Live to serve; serve to give; give to receive; receive to be. Infinite being. When we yield to the promptings that ask for our help - those in which we are often the least willing, it is then that we reap everlasting gifts beyond measure; it is then that we unwittingly exchange anxiety and irritation for rich fulfillment and mutual generosity. Time-keeping, thereafter, a consideration no more.
- This Carman Girl
- This Carman Girl
Starburst
Love IS. It's a breathing, fluid fire to step into, make your own, cause to arc and channel into and through others. Love as you've never loved before. Sundays.
- This Carman Girl
- This Carman Girl
Forever and Ever
A multitude of friends may fill missing pieces but they can also serve as a buffer against investing in what could be vulnerable, intimate connection for the long-term. Love the one you're with; do it with every fiber of your soul. The most important quality happy couples have is found in not ever having disagreements, but in remembering their love before their ego and being willing to match 100% to 100% with a ready "sorry" no matter what. Life is Love. Appreciation goes a long way. So, don't lose out or perpetuate life on empty; risk and move forward full throttle. It's euphoria of another kind.
- This Carman Girl
Ships in the Sky
Peter Pan says, "Girls talk too much." And think too much - analyze everything, and require undivided attention in conversation. Oh, to deal with woman. Smiles. Even so, I say:
There aren't enough Wendys in this world. After all, everyone needs a bit of a mother, tender kisses, a firm hand and the sweetness of hope. So, live in happiness and shamelessly exploit laughter. Be Alive. It is so good.
- This Carman Girl
There aren't enough Wendys in this world. After all, everyone needs a bit of a mother, tender kisses, a firm hand and the sweetness of hope. So, live in happiness and shamelessly exploit laughter. Be Alive. It is so good.
- This Carman Girl
Restoration Song
There was a rainstorm last week; it was so brief that it hardly lasted enough to quench the thirst of trees and landscapes so desperate for precipitation. Even so, the lightness of its pitter-patter and the joy in the damp had me springing for my camera, anxious to capture anything and everything I could that blossomed and bloomed. The house adjacent to ours had been put up for sale recently. One survey of the newly cleaned-up yard and some lovely lavender petals and I was on my way. I dashed across the road in my bare feet, the eagerness of childhood and the helter-skelter happiness of droplets splashing my face made me feel alive and willful. Silly even. Yet enough adult to look around to spy any neighbor who might see a ridiculous woman skipping down the street sans shoes.
I think of those blossoms, of the steps they grace and the state of the property as it had been before. I remember my surprise when a few months ago, cleaning vans arrived en masse in front of the house, the garage door decimated, and a giant dumpster overtook the driveway as men were seen going in and out, hauling boxes and apparently clearing out what obviously had been a place of such squalor it required them to wear masks. It made me feel as much curious as it did sick to my stomach.
Directly across from our home sits a property hidden by shrubs and a thicket of trees. It has been abandoned and empty for the last few years. Except for a few deer using it as an escape-way to safety (after feeding off of the plum tree at the end of our driveway), I've quite imagined it with the same forbidding fascination as Francis Hodgson Burnett's Mary when she chanced upon the Secret Garden. I've never ventured over, and save for a lone older gentleman who would drive up occasionally to view its condition, I have not gleaned anything further. This home as well, has recently been put up for sale. It, however, is advertised "as-is," no improvements made. The photos listed on a real estate site show a state of total disrepair, entirely forsaken - dejected, dismal walls forlornly staring down over heavily stained carpeting woefully in need of replacement.
I think of our home; I think of how much it has changed within the last few years. I think of losing the lawn and the absolute will-power it has been in reviving the front grass and the tenderness of care I feel it deserves to keep it beautiful and inviting. It has been my own ensign of hope, perseverance and a statement of intent within the difficulty. I think of how it has been - living in a state of unknowing for both of us as each of us have also dealt with physical issues (his more excruciating than mine - neck surgery - certainly nothing to be trifled with). I think of our no-holds-barred effort to reclaim the future and just "do it": To plant a garden, tend to living things; and in so doing, offer it, too, as a statement and proclamation of our own viability.
And then I think of restoration. And I think of what it entails: gratitude, care, belief, hope, action and the dogged pursuit of believing in and going after more. In that order. I believe that when any of us have been taken down by circumstances of heartbreak or hardship, these offer invitations to reexamine our worth, perspective, compassion, allowance, forgiveness, healing, wants, goals and attainment. In that order. And while there is always a danger of allowing distress and condition opportunity to be used as pseudo-blankets of safety - to wrap up self, heart and soul against the possibilities of further heartbreak, change, or fear - we don't have to. We can choose.
We can choose Restoration.
I watch people come and go out of both those homes. I wonder if they even pause to appreciate each structure the way I see them: The first, renovated entirely and standing tall with absolutely no evidence of what it had been before, waiting for the gift of a loving family to fill its walls with commitment and happiness. As for the lonely frame across the street, I wonder if it will be seized with the same power of purpose and morph into the glory it once must have known. Or I wonder if it will be bought and refurbished just enough to rent out to those of ilk who might just keep it in little more than stasis, underscoring its despondent condition.
And then I think of our own home. I think of the excited voices and boisterous laughter that rang out this morning when every single child but for the oldest boy, joined James and me in a game of fantasy, elves, arrows, goblins and imagination. I think of how this will most definitely become a Sunday staple of family fun added to the variety of other things we do in gratitude, care, belief, hope, action and the dogged pursuit of believing in and going after more. In that order. While circumstances have kept us sometimes wishing, I'm humbled to see our own restoration come in, miracles at a time.
I believe. I believe in restoration with a surety of my soul. I believe that every person, every condition, every circumstance, every structure, and every interaction has the ability to not only pass, but entirely become. More. A more that cannot be fathomed but for the belief and pursuit of it. In joy. In faith. In hope. I believe that those invitations to reexamine our worth, perspective, compassion, allowance, forgiveness, healing, wants, goals and attainment - in that order - provide for sustenance that stands for all time. In Joy. In Happiness. And in a never ceasing delight in things as they are as much as the anticipation of things as they can and will be. Contentment.
I say, Repaint Life.
- This Carman Girl
Impetus
Perhaps it's time to write, compose, paint, build, capture on film or just kick off the shoes of "should" and go for the magic! Don't settle for second, an alternate career, or cave into safe. Leap and let go. It's renewal in the rain.
What thought inspires action and when will life take you there? Don't wait until another rainstorm drenches the earth to remember its intoxicating, invigorating scent of growth and creation. Don't remain in ponder and want; live your gifts and share them with the world.
- This Carman Girl
What thought inspires action and when will life take you there? Don't wait until another rainstorm drenches the earth to remember its intoxicating, invigorating scent of growth and creation. Don't remain in ponder and want; live your gifts and share them with the world.
- This Carman Girl
Cosmos
I was reminded of the wisdom given to me through the rites of passage of a twelve-year-old; a blessing, if you will, for my personal lifetime. I was counseled to avoid idleness and unimportant activities, to seek leisure and happiness, but to also use my time wisely. And I think of it often as I gather knowledge day in and day out, explore the inside of my soul and express this joy and share it with others. I am especially reminded as I feel some kind of internal meter that urges me to speed up my processes, sidestep and move ahead; to abandon all negativity and engage in the kind of living that would reach out to others and beckon them to feel the same. And I think of a recent conversation in the middle of the night of shared epiphany and mutual exchange: The news of a woman, a mother so-very-young, just diagnosed with incurable brain cancer. Abruptly. Shockingly. A stark and unshakable reality.
I had always thought that the wisdom given in my youth meant that I couldn't hang out overly long with my friends; that I'd have to throw away my bubble gum and not get to play the Intellivision more than parental limits allowed. And as I moved into early adulthood, I recognized that if I had extra time on my hands, it only served to feed my emotional angst, fueling the eating disorders and crippling issues that surrounded my early struggles for identity.
Of late, as I have walked fully within the now, basking in wholeness, light, laughter and a realm of happiness too large to confine my spirit, I have thought in humorous respect, that it might suggest and issue statement for the length of time I spend on the social network. Smiles. Even still, as this internal clock seems to propel me farther and my eternal perspective begins to overshadow my physical blinders, I hear these stories of life cut short, and the counsel of so long ago slides deeply into the center of my spirit in steady, steel awareness. Somber, yet important. Neither sad, but all the more entreating.
For each of us were blessed to grace this earth with individual gifts, experiences, and choices that would offer up the potential to move us into all that we already are, so that we might step into the power that would build legacy and shape the outlook of generations to come. Some of us have put it off far too long, having been seduced by the prevalence of negativity in others or the fear and esteem of what the world might think.
And I ponder that very thought. We have been so concerned with being enough that we continue to breed generations of anxious, depressed and searching people - it is all of our own making. When we accept the deceit of our small selves, we consign others to it. It is unpopular to find and exercise wholeness in environments which recognize only intimidation, jealousy and silence. We have not taught, nurtured or nourished the idea that each of us is magnificent and unique - or that it is, in fact, insecurity, vice and imperfection that offer catalysts for not only change, but the acceptance and love for ourselves and others. An emancipation of self brought on by the transparency of vulnerability.
And as much as there are countless books advocating, teaching, sharing messages of wholeness and light, it is still ill-considered to bask in it and live large for fear of offending a neighbor, or appearing too self-absorbed. So we remain nations of smallness, sharing backdoor angst instead of promoting the sacred selves of each other. And I wonder what it would take for those of us who have gotten it to be able to supersede the old messages, encourage triumph and spread a tidal wave of gladness and joy. Yes, those of us who have stared down the depths of our most personal hell, and had everything finally click into place in the middle of the shattered dark - to have landed so hard at the bottom that nothing less than truth and happiness could ever sustain us thereafter.
To want only to bask in collective Love...
And so I think of this mother who has children not quite out of high school, who, like so many others who have been given the verdict of their impending mortality, and what it must be for her to find closure and peace. She is compelled to take stock of her life as we may continue to choose to live in ignorance, procrastination and the hollow promises of tomorrow's tomorrow. And then I feel it even more strongly than before, that if we are here to fulfill our own personal gifts, that we must not waste one moment. That all that we are, all that we can give, and all that we must learn, must be actively engaged in service and gratitude. To fully implement stepping out of "me" to walk within the being that implores us to move into another space of living entirely.
I don't pretend to think or make some clandestine declaration of my own life span, nor my own influence or whether it is of necessary import; but I do know that truth remains and wisdom is its advocate. And so I take another deep breath, laughing ruefully, as I suppose that Carman girls should probably find less intense avenues of being. Nevertheless, I cannot help this never-half, always full-throttle sort of attitude. I seem to down shot glasses filled with equal portions of potency, fierceness and perseverance. And sometimes when I'm midway through a cause, I often find myself facing the very humbling, often mortifying merits of temperance as well. And poking fun at myself, I ask - How does one contain a woman who doesn't know how to prepare for a party with anything less than enough food to throw humanity into total overload?
Never enough giving, but always replete...
Yes, a reminder that it is up to us to manage every precious moment of this living experience, and to gift ourselves with the grace and the process to be all that we are. For it is in gifting to ourselves that we deliver limitless love.
Heaven on Earth...
- This Carman Girl
Laugh Always
Be crazy and fun, irreverent and silly. Drink in delicious idiocy and laugh more. Laughter leads to romance, a form of foreplay, a bandaid for scars and a tonic for sorrow. It feeds discussion, punctuates celebrations and fuels love. Laughter is infectious and cannot be brought down. Laughter creates common ground and allows even the most driven of us, moments of childhood indulgence.
LOVE THIS LIFE YOU LIVE. XO.
- This Carman Girl
LOVE THIS LIFE YOU LIVE. XO.
- This Carman Girl
Myths and Heroes
Self-preservation kicks in on the brutal burn of a dry, painful throat, threatening tears and the unwelcome sense that setback could conquer yet again. It's the self-preservation that breathes in ragged whispers of drowning agony but moves through the torment, numb almost. Scarred, wounded, but ignoring the spasms of throbbing, aching emotion just for the moving. Just for the forward motion to be anywhere but buried alive in helplessness.
Self checks into auto-pilot, fingers running along the edges of familiar, abysmal territory. Flipping the switch of the internal motor still warm and heated from the friction of want, electricity and the vestiges of what had been hope. Lights flashing on as the machine that would give solace in pounding, physical energy, fuels the thoughts which would spur action - daring, telling, firing the bullets of determination; re-building walls and bent thereafter on shoring up the power to never to be scorched again.
Single-minded purpose closes out all else in a tunnel vision bent solely on survival, protection and the resolute, unwavering power of oblivion. No more conscious feeling. Back into the pursuit of unbreakable being; an untouchable fortress wherein no person or circumstance could breach, raise, or abandon one more time. Roaring calm. The machine balks under the gate of strides that become longer and faster, sweat running, dripping and mingling with tears in blinding frustration and yet demanding absolution and resilience.
Cannot lose. Will not lose. No pain. No pain. No pain. Running, running, running. The flexing of muscles and mind breathing in and forcing the beat of all yearning into complete and total submission, until the end of the session is marked by rapid breath and total exhaustion. It is over. It is enough. She has released the fury, the fear, the anxiety and the need to control all of it.
Bled dry but all the better for it.
Emotion burned up in the fuel of activity, fostering stubborn certitude, while fractured particles of spirit mix in the blackened dust of the running belt, left far behind in the cumulative distance of blinking numbers on a display screen of stationary traction. Illuminating almost what could be the comic hilarity of a human treadmill and the cycles of worry, failure, consequence and pain.
Knowing even still...
That she will rise another day because heritage and courage demand it and will not relent or accept anything less than continuing on doggedly through. Defeat, perhaps. But not defining. Even if she will never be the same.
Because she is better. So much better. Powerful. Wise. Seeing. Sightless, but clear all the same.
For in her heart she knows with a surety; she knows no obstacles, no threats, no vices, no darkness, and will not ever entertain conversations filled with can't. She will, because she was born to. And whether life winds in the manner she expects or changes on a dime in inexplicable surprise, she will greet it with a zest and verve, hope and rebellious passion. For it isn't in the trying; it isn't in will-power; it isn't in the stops and starts, the disappointments or successes. It isn't in taking a deeper breath and re-launching. No, after one last play with the fires of expectation and denial, she gets it.
She has let go and let God. Finally. And it is beautiful.
XO,
Becca
- Living Joy - This Carman Girl
Bird on a Wire
This world trains us to think in terms of "losing" - lose weight, lose symptoms, lose debt, lose baggage. Yet we should reject even the consideration of the negative and reprogram our minds to the thought of building: Build healthy cells, build peace, build talent, build relationships, build success. Building is long-term and sustaining. Thinking that we must "lose" means we're not emotionally ready to succeed. The idea of losing and its deference to underlying criticism only serves to substantiate our varying degrees of stasis, therefore further enabling familiar cycles of self-defeat. It blinds us from viable avenues of well-being and innate worthiness. There is no need to offer one whit of attention to the negative since the positive is there waiting to be noticed, waiting to reset our minds so that our actions find actualization in the perfect miracle of God's perception. In all our deeds, we are either actively coping or tending to creating. And whether we have landed, flown to a better perch, or are not quite ready to soar in the sky, hope glides and it carries with it inevitable seasons of change. Creation lives and its pulse is inescapable. Do it. Be it. Live it. Love it.
- This Carman Girl
- This Carman Girl
Thursday, July 17, 2014
Traffic
My mind goes a million miles an hour. It just does. Rather than preface every single post with this qualifier I should just add it as a title to my name. Smiles. That being said, here's what's on my mind right this minute: There is so much talk of equality and oppression across the board - from entitlements, to gender activists, to religious and political affiliations and socio-economic agendas. Many times, my heart roars up with the ethics of my soul and I post opinion with a fierceness of position that entirely lays claim to a jurisdiction that solely adheres to a manifesto of integrity. What I am finding is that while that is well and good, it is gentleness that speaks the loudest; it is gentleness that entreats the most. It is the open space of acceptance and love that provides safe opportunity for ourselves and others to examine whether our collective roars are simply nothing more than pleadings to be heard. To believe. To be validated. To be acknowledged. To be counted. To be appreciated. To be noticed. To cry for justice.
Integrity is essential even so. I have often said that truth is the only source wherein any viability can be established and maintained. And yet it is in its presentation that lessons of morality outside of dogma can either serve to inspire or alienate. Gentleness is everything. Love is everything. I see negativity lined up and represented in varied ways: People vying desperately for their rights; people anxious to be accepted outside of judgment or exclusion; quotes that are posted with kickback aftertastes saddled with oppression. And I have come to conclude that rights cannot be marched, picketed or proclaimed. When we give credence to the negative, we allow it sovereign reign. Period. What is capitalized is advertised.
Love, however - Love is everything. It is not a place or realm of naïve existentialism. It is not ignorance, or a walk or throw-back to the Sixties; it is an allowance that does not seek to control the thoughts of others or mete out their judgment. It is a space that is powerful but light; unassuming, but filled with meaning; light-hearted, yet that much more relevant. When we choose to refuse the warring factions of defensive or offensive engagement and step into acceptance, compassion, tolerance, association, and understanding - that is when we get somewhere. That is when hearing becomes listening, seeing becomes recognizing, and speaking becomes inspiring.
Love. To love. To not segregate, separate, associate or commiserate. To stand up in the authenticity of self and to allow and encourage others to do the same; for it is in spaces of safety that growth happens and healing begins, consciousness remembers, and the unencumbered zest and hope of childhood regains memory. Thoughts align rather than defend as adult selves come full circle into precious truths and light, releasing the need for platforms and loud admonitions. Yes, that is when reciprocity begets reciprocity and real Love begins. For Always. For the long term. And for legacy. The only deceit is ever accepting a war. Give love; be love.
Xo,
Becca
Love, however - Love is everything. It is not a place or realm of naïve existentialism. It is not ignorance, or a walk or throw-back to the Sixties; it is an allowance that does not seek to control the thoughts of others or mete out their judgment. It is a space that is powerful but light; unassuming, but filled with meaning; light-hearted, yet that much more relevant. When we choose to refuse the warring factions of defensive or offensive engagement and step into acceptance, compassion, tolerance, association, and understanding - that is when we get somewhere. That is when hearing becomes listening, seeing becomes recognizing, and speaking becomes inspiring.
Love. To love. To not segregate, separate, associate or commiserate. To stand up in the authenticity of self and to allow and encourage others to do the same; for it is in spaces of safety that growth happens and healing begins, consciousness remembers, and the unencumbered zest and hope of childhood regains memory. Thoughts align rather than defend as adult selves come full circle into precious truths and light, releasing the need for platforms and loud admonitions. Yes, that is when reciprocity begets reciprocity and real Love begins. For Always. For the long term. And for legacy. The only deceit is ever accepting a war. Give love; be love.
Xo,
Becca
- This Carman Girl
Heart in Pieces
I've watched this day arrive for weeks now, knowing that the sun would shine, the world would pass on by, but that those who knew him would feel the ache even still. I miss Grandad; today he would have been 97. Oh, I miss him so much. On so many occasions I write about him because I simply cannot help myself - here I am again, feeling the silence of the morning without him, without our daily phone-calls, without his dry humor, without his infinite wisdom. This time, my words will tumble one upon another, raw, unedited, hardly graceful prose; but they flow from my heart with a rush of tears as the hiccups and staccato of my typing empathize with the soundless wailing inside my heart.
Few people come into this world so unerringly extraordinary, so selfless, so independent and yet so involved. Few people understand what it is to step beyond themselves every day and every moment to seek and shape the lives of their loved ones. Too many of us walk around as adults, caught within cycles of childhood, pretending to be parents, while 40, 50, 60 arrive and perhaps too late, the grave swallows us whole. Life wasted in wishful thinking, in mundane, in acceptance of the mediocre or in blaming others for any and all pitfalls.
It is remarkable that every turn of media, every public conversation, every corner market, cell phone app - every single one exists for the promotion of self only. Everything is about improvement and pedestal, acceptance and glorification. These are hollow, lifeless, self-consumed, empty, bitter and uninspired emotional highs, deceitfully hidden within their self-described swag packaging - garish. Miserable. Worthless.
Grandad was born in an age I envy with all of my heart. I feel displaced. Cheated. My being and thoughts align with the 30s and 40s. My sense of family, of being a woman, the characterization and classification of family so untouched, so pure. So purposeful. Family meant something. Family was everything. Money and corporate station was not the center of esteem but quiet necessities, a supporting cast to hearth and home, love and laughter, simplicity, yet ever-so-wealthy in Joy, in spirit, in connection. Life was about creation, innovation, mutual give and take and the commitment to building and continuing legacy and the family name.
All of us have someone whom we revere within our families. But do any of us realize that we could become that for our children, for their children, for others? We have gifts and identity, purpose and a divine life plan to blossom into selves of the same fiber, stature and inspiration. Who we are now affects the lives our children lead. Is family first? Will they always be first? Do we assume that once they are eighteen, our job is done? Or are we there - always. Always ready to lift, to gift, to encourage...one phone call away, instant messaging for those critical moments of wisdom or emotional need. I know without a doubt that Grandad lived until I was able to fly on my own wings. I know that this man and the twinkle in his eyes, his matter-of-fact demeanor and yet mercilessly teasing humor, continues to drive my determination to achieve. Not for myself. But outside myself. For others. To give what he gave me. To carry forward and onward.
In my mind, I can still walk down the familiar stone steps, heart beating with anticipation for the chime of the ancient Grandfather clock, its moon face smiling in greeting, a spinning wheel set to the side of a white marble hearth as a stately Pyrenees lifts its head to acknowledge my arrival. Tucked into a turn-of-the-century ornately carved chair, Grandma, a sweater about her shoulders, absent-mindedly reading the pages of a Harlequin Romance novel. Several curio cabinets gracing the room housing a variety of porcelain figurines; my favorites - romantic couples in the sway of ballroom dancing, propelling me back into a wonderland of youth and fantasy. Oil paintings and gilt mirrors, brocade drapes and a telescope atop a large cabinet compelling my eyes to take in breathtaking window views of the Puget Sound. Welcoming waves crashing on the beach of Lincoln Park just down the way and a ferry boat's wake dissolving into the mists of pacific northwest glory. More tears slide down my cheeks.
Death, I loathe thee. I ache and hurt. Want and remember. I wish with all of my heart that this side of Living could be as peaceful as the blissful sleep of those who have passed on. I want, beg, will and know that for all the missing of this man who shaped my being, my insistence on integrity and will-power, fortitude and the pursuit of dreaming, achieving and never quitting, that it was who Grandad was and his legacy that I refuse to forget. I refuse for my children to not remember. I want my children's children and so on to be able to pick him out of a photograph. I will not ever let him be a nameless face from generations long forgotten. I want to live a life that gives to mine the way he did for me. Outside myself. For the greater good. For Love. For Family.
Today, I remember him, honor him, think of him and just might have to whip up a batch of lemon squares and stick them on top of the microwave for a snack at midnight in his honor. Life is a gift. Every moment, every breath. Don't waste one moment. Give, gift, repair, become, enjoy and open your arms to every lesson, every stage, every learning curve and every opportunity to share Joy, gratitude and encouragement.
Happy Birthday, Grandad. You are remembered today in more ways than pages and pages of words could express. I love you from the deepest part of my soul and I cherish the gifts you have given that live on inside of me.
Love,
Becca
It is remarkable that every turn of media, every public conversation, every corner market, cell phone app - every single one exists for the promotion of self only. Everything is about improvement and pedestal, acceptance and glorification. These are hollow, lifeless, self-consumed, empty, bitter and uninspired emotional highs, deceitfully hidden within their self-described swag packaging - garish. Miserable. Worthless.
Grandad was born in an age I envy with all of my heart. I feel displaced. Cheated. My being and thoughts align with the 30s and 40s. My sense of family, of being a woman, the characterization and classification of family so untouched, so pure. So purposeful. Family meant something. Family was everything. Money and corporate station was not the center of esteem but quiet necessities, a supporting cast to hearth and home, love and laughter, simplicity, yet ever-so-wealthy in Joy, in spirit, in connection. Life was about creation, innovation, mutual give and take and the commitment to building and continuing legacy and the family name.
All of us have someone whom we revere within our families. But do any of us realize that we could become that for our children, for their children, for others? We have gifts and identity, purpose and a divine life plan to blossom into selves of the same fiber, stature and inspiration. Who we are now affects the lives our children lead. Is family first? Will they always be first? Do we assume that once they are eighteen, our job is done? Or are we there - always. Always ready to lift, to gift, to encourage...one phone call away, instant messaging for those critical moments of wisdom or emotional need. I know without a doubt that Grandad lived until I was able to fly on my own wings. I know that this man and the twinkle in his eyes, his matter-of-fact demeanor and yet mercilessly teasing humor, continues to drive my determination to achieve. Not for myself. But outside myself. For others. To give what he gave me. To carry forward and onward.
In my mind, I can still walk down the familiar stone steps, heart beating with anticipation for the chime of the ancient Grandfather clock, its moon face smiling in greeting, a spinning wheel set to the side of a white marble hearth as a stately Pyrenees lifts its head to acknowledge my arrival. Tucked into a turn-of-the-century ornately carved chair, Grandma, a sweater about her shoulders, absent-mindedly reading the pages of a Harlequin Romance novel. Several curio cabinets gracing the room housing a variety of porcelain figurines; my favorites - romantic couples in the sway of ballroom dancing, propelling me back into a wonderland of youth and fantasy. Oil paintings and gilt mirrors, brocade drapes and a telescope atop a large cabinet compelling my eyes to take in breathtaking window views of the Puget Sound. Welcoming waves crashing on the beach of Lincoln Park just down the way and a ferry boat's wake dissolving into the mists of pacific northwest glory. More tears slide down my cheeks.
Death, I loathe thee. I ache and hurt. Want and remember. I wish with all of my heart that this side of Living could be as peaceful as the blissful sleep of those who have passed on. I want, beg, will and know that for all the missing of this man who shaped my being, my insistence on integrity and will-power, fortitude and the pursuit of dreaming, achieving and never quitting, that it was who Grandad was and his legacy that I refuse to forget. I refuse for my children to not remember. I want my children's children and so on to be able to pick him out of a photograph. I will not ever let him be a nameless face from generations long forgotten. I want to live a life that gives to mine the way he did for me. Outside myself. For the greater good. For Love. For Family.
Today, I remember him, honor him, think of him and just might have to whip up a batch of lemon squares and stick them on top of the microwave for a snack at midnight in his honor. Life is a gift. Every moment, every breath. Don't waste one moment. Give, gift, repair, become, enjoy and open your arms to every lesson, every stage, every learning curve and every opportunity to share Joy, gratitude and encouragement.
Happy Birthday, Grandad. You are remembered today in more ways than pages and pages of words could express. I love you from the deepest part of my soul and I cherish the gifts you have given that live on inside of me.
Love,
Becca
- This Carman Girl
Time Stamp
Routine. It's a word that calms frazzled nerves and puts order into life seemingly in a state of never-ending upheaval. It's maintaining a clean home, prioritizing the bills, dressing to ensure I don't slip into the realm of mother undone. It's regulating the events of the day so as to feel confident that every thing and everyone I love is taken care of. It's knowing that from one moment to the next all that I can control, is controlled; that perhaps my heart will not beat as quickly, fear will not overwhelm my senses, and panic will be left at bay if the unexpected threatens to knock me to the ground and leave me spattered and exposed on the sidewalk.
If someone were to ask me if I was a spontaneous or controlled person, invariably my answer has always been, controlled. And yet...
I am mother, racing around the house after my boys, soaking up their mock fright and squeals of laughter. I am woman craving the fragrant night air, out as often as I can, drinking in the heaven starlight cradled by billowing clouds idling by. I am impulsive and energetic, riotous and irreverent. I am better at surprising with gifts from my heart than honoring significant dates on a calendar. I wear my heart on my sleeve and love with untamed intensity - a fierce tigress who should never be cornered. I am fire and flame and cannot be doused for I know nothing could keep me from escaping the grate.
Wry smile. So...
It would seem that all this talk of controlling routine is purely a matter of relativity. Safety is merely a turn of thought. Pain or dismay can swiftly turn into serene calm within as little as five minutes no matter the personal value of the crisis or disappointment. The question then becomes: how long will one remain in stasis - absorbing, courting, wallowing within dark currents before awareness of this relativity hits?
As I move through experience after experience, each having brought differing levels of growth in uncertainty, I am finding that I not only survive them, but I continue to flourish; I not only remain viable, but I become more powerful. Spirited. Better. Stronger. Alive. As conscious thought wraps itself around my own theory of relativity, the time spent in frazzled worry lessens with each occurrence. Which has my long-winded, ever-uncontrolled, streaming flow of unsolicited, unedited consciousness finally coming to the real point: If disappointment, circumstance, delay or pain can morph into well-being on the change of thought (not to mention sometimes a bottle of wine or an entire chocolate cake), what do we have to gain by seeking a quick resolution if the decision found does not include all possible knowledge or consequence?
Why do we feel like we are left to the buffeting of a violent storm when things don't go as we plan, or even worse - we don't obtain immediate answers? Why the need to define a clear path right away? Safety? I think not. True safety would not support a decision with the primary motivator being a blinding need to feel less fear, pain or worry. True safety lies in finding internal truth - in bending self and building soul.
If a sense of safety can be turned by a carton of Ben & Jerry's (keeping it real), then true growth can only happen by stepping out during the eye of the storm and surveying the damage so as to learn how to best survive the remainder of the fray. There is so much to learn within the fragmented moments of our lives. Having the courage to seek the safety in the learning can save us from endless cycles of the same and change the very definition, outcome, subtlety and structure of what we ever considered to be well-being.
Embrace the unknown; don't waste so much negative energy wishing for the tidy bow gracing the perfectly controlled package. It's all relative. Float. Dance with it. Try sliding down the rays of sunshine sifting through those forbidding clouds like shots of golden silk gleaming in smoke and firelight. Poke through the cinders and find the ring; find your inner Eliza Doolittle and don't be satisfied with so many words with so little meaning - including those words you say to yourself. Find the joyful stillness in each moment and consider it a gift.
I don't know that I will ever be able to have a messy home; peace is my mantra. And God forbid that I would ever trade in my signature platform heels for sneakers. Sneakers!? Shudder. But I do know that control is merely relative and that true safety is found within the process. So don't be afraid to crack open the most expensive, exceptional bottle of wine. Give it time to aerate on the counter longer than you normally would. Leave behind anxious and allow the nuances of the vintage opportunity to smooth bitterness and enhance flavor and sweetness. Drink up this life. It's delicious no matter what. Cheers.
- The Carman Girl
Blessings
Energy, vitality, well-being. A resolution to not waste one moment. Awareness. Every day a choice to live in active expression for the gratitude and privilege of life, family, love, Joy. All else is merely here to enhance our experiences on earth. Gifts to Self.
- This Carman Girl
- This Carman Girl
Let Summer Begin
There are some people who walk around, moving about their lives in weariness and negativity, reactive and disillusioned - not because they consciously decided to be cynical or bitter, but because they began to believe through consecutive hardships, that life was a struggle - something to war with, strive for, fight passionately, or battle. As displaced fear and perhaps abuses of obvious or lesser kinds from others layered scars and then were compounded by the fallout of difficulty from countless poor decisions made thereafter - decisions influenced by the same life conditions and repetitive cycles - they mistakenly came to accept that they would have to use force to ever gain what they longingly and so rightly deserve as precious children of a loving Heavenly Father.
Yet everyone deserves happiness. Everyone. And none of it need come from having to win anything over another. Oh, no. In fact, whether young or old, poor or wealthy, married or divorced, single or alone, all of us have the sacred right to happiness. It is a bounteous gift generously available from a Father, who with tender and loving eyes, waits patiently, steadily entreating us to look to Him to see ourselves within the wholeness of who we are, as we are, where we are, for what we are, and what we're meant to have in this mortal experience.
His esteem holds the perfect truth as to the worth of our souls and the happiness he has personally designed for each one of our lives. He, alone, can heal every real wrong, erase every pattern of discontent, and will flood the warmth of his Spirit and the light of Christ upon us wherein all things of worldly consequence melt away and the shining glory of our sacred importance stands. For all time. Indelibly. Perfectly. Poignantly. A space of brightness, hope, light and infinite love.
When we let go of any and all defenses, offenses, insecurities and will, bravely casting our eyes to the Heavens, uncaring of how anyone else has categorized, thought or judged us, and meekly allow Him to bathe us in the pool of His love and mercy, it is then that the Heavens open and our spirits are cleansed. And where there may have been misery, there is peace; where there was hurt, there is healing. Where there was anger, there is cognizance and compassion. Where there was disappointment, there is hope, belief, clarity and purpose.
And it is then, when we understand that it is up to us to give ourselves the gifts of leniency, tenderness, patience, and to always choose to shine, that we are helpless to not only feel the euphoria of that Joy and peace well up within, but passionately, gloriously, wish to share it with others. And that is when the prosperity, blessings, wants, desires, pathways and purpose that are ours alone to have, find power to materialize and can transform our lives.
What a magnificent gift - available any moment, any day. Let the season begin now. Give love; be love. Go out and live this life: Do it. Be it. Live it. Love it.
XO,
His esteem holds the perfect truth as to the worth of our souls and the happiness he has personally designed for each one of our lives. He, alone, can heal every real wrong, erase every pattern of discontent, and will flood the warmth of his Spirit and the light of Christ upon us wherein all things of worldly consequence melt away and the shining glory of our sacred importance stands. For all time. Indelibly. Perfectly. Poignantly. A space of brightness, hope, light and infinite love.
When we let go of any and all defenses, offenses, insecurities and will, bravely casting our eyes to the Heavens, uncaring of how anyone else has categorized, thought or judged us, and meekly allow Him to bathe us in the pool of His love and mercy, it is then that the Heavens open and our spirits are cleansed. And where there may have been misery, there is peace; where there was hurt, there is healing. Where there was anger, there is cognizance and compassion. Where there was disappointment, there is hope, belief, clarity and purpose.
And it is then, when we understand that it is up to us to give ourselves the gifts of leniency, tenderness, patience, and to always choose to shine, that we are helpless to not only feel the euphoria of that Joy and peace well up within, but passionately, gloriously, wish to share it with others. And that is when the prosperity, blessings, wants, desires, pathways and purpose that are ours alone to have, find power to materialize and can transform our lives.
What a magnificent gift - available any moment, any day. Let the season begin now. Give love; be love. Go out and live this life: Do it. Be it. Live it. Love it.
XO,
Becca
- This Carman Girl
Shelter In The Sky
It never ceases to amaze me these days how many people not only live within negativity but seem to court it and look askance at those of us who find joy. They seem to disregard all that is positive and simply collect offenses that reinforce their perception of how the world treats them. Whispering, complaining, mocking...
I've been at the bottom. I know the darkest corners of my soul. I know what it's like to have collapsed in body and spirit utterly and completely - to have died in pieces daily until one last moment clinched all sparks of light. I have known the heartache of having existed, reached, worked and labored for one goal only to find years later it was based upon complete and total deception. I know the enormous cost of pain and despair.
I've been at the bottom. I know the darkest corners of my soul. I know what it's like to have collapsed in body and spirit utterly and completely - to have died in pieces daily until one last moment clinched all sparks of light. I have known the heartache of having existed, reached, worked and labored for one goal only to find years later it was based upon complete and total deception. I know the enormous cost of pain and despair.
Yet as I move my energy into a space that is buoyant and filled with lustful zest, laughter and freedom, I recognize even more those who don't take responsibility for their happiness. So much inside of me mourns for them, aches for their self-inflicted sorrow as well as the disappointing, painful and very real experiences that may have brought them to such a state. I see them choose not to kick off from the bottom of the deep and it tears at my heart in deep waves of empathy. But what I have learned is that the beat of our hearts, the gifts we have to explore, the relationships we learn from, and the lessons along the way are far too precious to waste.
Our lives rarely follow the formula we planned from childhood. The dips and turns between the markers of adolescence, adulthood, career and marriage bring with them unseen complications and sometimes many reasons to feel anger and disillusionment. And yet all the more reason to take a second look and discard every perception, idea and characterization of prosperity and success. I have found reason to bask in the very air I breathe and find a different set of rules to measure my existence.
Fulfillment should be summed up in the smallest possible standard: To live with full integrity and to love with equal measure. If we fail to see the point, then we are not living from the purest source inside. Joy does not know kickbacks; joy comes from within and does not ever seek payment for the sharing. Everything else is a matter of relativity: Illness, death, struggle, vice - all turn on the variables of season and escalate with the inconsistencies of emotion. None of these should be entrusted with the consequence of our happiness.
I now laugh more at myself for all of my follies. There are days that a whirlpool opens up and beckons from the dark when at times my fears and uncertainties seek to threaten my well-being; but I know the difference between what matters, what counts, and absolutely refuse to give of my life essence to be sucked away into a pit of mire. I know the infusion of Joy and the strength of my spirit. I know my value under the heavens as much as I know without a shadow of a doubt that every experience is a gift in every way that counts. Every turn of thought has the opportunity for personal growth, the dissection of honesty and intent, ownership and a powerful rise in the acceptance and privilege it is to take fully the reins of responsibility.
There is a definitive choice every day, every hour, every minute, to cast our eyes around and breathe deeply into our lungs the very essence of our creation, refusing untruth in its entirety. The question is, will we leave this earth broken, having always blamed others, absorbed in groups of pity, gossip and discontent? Or will we leave with spirit, grace and joy? Will we have lived so well that we will leave a legacy? Will we have empowered our own with the knowledge of their infinite possibilities so that they feel the permission and freedom to achieve?
Here's to the protection of our life space - to energy, joy and family. To surrounding ourselves with love, compassion, insight, awareness and gentleness. Here's to living everything we are now - fully. Unapologetically. Passionately. Here's to the prosperity of our hearts and the generosity and healing there is in disallowing stagnant dreams, emotions or outlook. Here's to being Vital. Willfully so.
Our lives rarely follow the formula we planned from childhood. The dips and turns between the markers of adolescence, adulthood, career and marriage bring with them unseen complications and sometimes many reasons to feel anger and disillusionment. And yet all the more reason to take a second look and discard every perception, idea and characterization of prosperity and success. I have found reason to bask in the very air I breathe and find a different set of rules to measure my existence.
Fulfillment should be summed up in the smallest possible standard: To live with full integrity and to love with equal measure. If we fail to see the point, then we are not living from the purest source inside. Joy does not know kickbacks; joy comes from within and does not ever seek payment for the sharing. Everything else is a matter of relativity: Illness, death, struggle, vice - all turn on the variables of season and escalate with the inconsistencies of emotion. None of these should be entrusted with the consequence of our happiness.
I now laugh more at myself for all of my follies. There are days that a whirlpool opens up and beckons from the dark when at times my fears and uncertainties seek to threaten my well-being; but I know the difference between what matters, what counts, and absolutely refuse to give of my life essence to be sucked away into a pit of mire. I know the infusion of Joy and the strength of my spirit. I know my value under the heavens as much as I know without a shadow of a doubt that every experience is a gift in every way that counts. Every turn of thought has the opportunity for personal growth, the dissection of honesty and intent, ownership and a powerful rise in the acceptance and privilege it is to take fully the reins of responsibility.
There is a definitive choice every day, every hour, every minute, to cast our eyes around and breathe deeply into our lungs the very essence of our creation, refusing untruth in its entirety. The question is, will we leave this earth broken, having always blamed others, absorbed in groups of pity, gossip and discontent? Or will we leave with spirit, grace and joy? Will we have lived so well that we will leave a legacy? Will we have empowered our own with the knowledge of their infinite possibilities so that they feel the permission and freedom to achieve?
Here's to the protection of our life space - to energy, joy and family. To surrounding ourselves with love, compassion, insight, awareness and gentleness. Here's to living everything we are now - fully. Unapologetically. Passionately. Here's to the prosperity of our hearts and the generosity and healing there is in disallowing stagnant dreams, emotions or outlook. Here's to being Vital. Willfully so.
- This Carman Girl
Symposium
Perhaps women, alone, are to blame for the perpetuation of undermining their capabilities; we damn the innate sanctity of being woman by virtue of continuing to play into the wars that pit those who stay home versus those who choose to work. Although there was a time and a place where the voice of woman was unheard, uncounted, disrespected and considered by the corporate world through eyes of sardonic intolerance and near amusement, the essence of being woman or man (for that matter) simply is. Neither requires demonstrative or defensive interpretation and does not necessitate demeaning language to prove value.
No matter what we have chosen to seek in life, each one of us are all of the things we want to be in the now. Our ability to engage, multitask and succeed, whether in the career world or at home, is the inherent truth. We have actually subjugated ourselves by the very nature of engaging in the fight; for while in the process of seeking equality by suggesting that the innately feminine gifts that come from being a housewife and serving our families are somehow not the priceless, unparalleled, truly beautiful gifts of being woman, we have assumed that women who enjoy staying home as nurturers are either brainless, subservient, have succumbed to a lesser role, or made a sacrifice. And for many who do stay home, their attempt to turn every centerpiece and matching outfit into some kind of self-serving statement equally adds to the mire.
Nonsense. To all of it.
Oh, women! Don't perpetuate the untruth and label each other. The raising of children does not subtract from our abilities but rather increases the myriad of things we know, adding critical insight and discernment which indeed can serve to enhance our corporate capacity. The ability to head departments and execute with precision and exactness the powerful roles of acquisition, innovation and creativity does not detract from the measure of our intrinsic womanhood. Nor does it offer commentary and judgment upon our skills in nurturing our own from outside the home.
When all is said and done, the most confident women do not need to strive for public valuation, nor conversely, return judgment while sitting counsel from tables of crayons and story books. Whether we utilize our gifts for social recognition or domestic application, we are one and the same. Discussions to that end leave feminism behind and move into deep-seeded issues of esteem. Confidence does not question, ask, seek or feel compelled to find approval. Confidence already owns its name and moves forward with full possession of its talent and magnifies its make and meaning.
To be female is to be feminist no matter how we move about our lives. To glory in the grace and elegance of our carriage is to be feminine. To run with power and strength, endurance and dedication, is feminine. To calculate, deliberate, resolve, assign, deliver and excel, is feminine. To let ourselves weep until there are no more tears after an overwhelming stretch of serving, nurturing, working and doing, is feminine. To draw in breaths of steel determination and broker no resistance in the pursuit of our goals, is feminine. And all, very much feminist. By the very breath of our creation, we are beings of wisdom, talent, tenacity, intelligence and ability. Let it stand.
There is no definition nor judgment regarding the personal choice it is to enjoy the fruits of home labor or career success. Racism continues because we continue to address its appellation; feminism continues its fight simply upon the competitive culture that remains among women. To end it means to no longer bring it to the discussion table. Period. A transcendental truth is that nothing, no matter what it is or who it is, belongs inside a box to be definitively trapped within undue, unjustified and derogatory dispute.
Ownership is everything. Ownership knows no boundaries. Ownership thrives. Ownership embraces womanhood. Womanhood is what we share. We are women. More than that - we have our own individual names, purpose and ability. So, be woman. Be you.
- This Carman Girl
Adagio Cantabile
Human nature shies away from the unknown; it's unfocused, untried, blurry, distant and frightening. We'd much rather stay within the corridors of known than venture out into any terrifying, open space that could provide no sense of control (even if it would also mean the inevitability of dwelling within the same staid and tired patterns).
This afternoon gave me a few stolen moments to slip open the cover to the Yamaha piano, and with headphones on, play to my heart's content. As usual, I deftly skipped over the pieces that in any way looked too intricate and far removed from my want for immediate-gratification, comfort and ability. The lilt and lyrical exploration of rumination and contemplation wished for whimsical expression as well as certain surcease. Replaying Mozart and Debussy for the nth time gave me what I needed even though the notes seemed to ring at my touch with a near listless tedium.
As I put aside the pieces, my small foray into introspection and melancholy met, my shoulders squared as determination, purpose and resolve righted themselves. I set the music to the side and switched the piano to "play". The same pieces I had just played rang out and then moved on to those I had flipped passed so quickly. The Piano Sonate op.13 "Pathetique" 2nd movement played next. I recognized its melody instantly while within the same moment registered that it was simplistic in all ways and one that I had not yet played. Intrigued, I turned back to my piano book to look for it. How could I have possibly missed this one?
Staring at a page I had dismissed countless times, I found it - having never really examined it since it appeared too difficult. With the mildest hesitation, I haltingly began to play, my fingers tentatively seeking the notes and then gathering confidence as sound after sound, measure after measure, my endeavor echoed what I had listened to. With ease. I felt the thud of idiocy and so much comical epiphany. Human nature, indeed.
In so many things, we miss out by the simple dismissal of the looks of it. We miss out on communication, distance, time, opportunity, talent, compassion, learning, edification, forgiveness, change. We miss out on even the basic and first precept: Belief.
Belief is the carriage of hope and the conduit of change. One can hope and do nothing and very definitely receive nothing. One can believe and yet do all things. Yes, all things.
I believe. With all of my heart. And I believe that there are notes to be played with the mightiest crescendo just as there are rest stops for expression. The discernment of each, of when to choose action and when to pause, can only be evaluated personally as to our own fears and ideas. In the inanity of my often self-confining thoughts, I am reminded yet again from a melodic interlude with Beethoven.
Mmmm, yes. Believe.
- This Carman Girl
Courtyard
In this life, we are not free from commitment or responsibility; yet in the execution and application of such, there is infinite freedom and limitless opportunity.
- This Carman Girl
- This Carman Girl
Doorways
Integrity is the absolute rock of my belief system; it is the core matter of who we are, the values we unfailingly exercise, and the total dedication to doing the right thing no matter the outcome, circumstance or leadership. It is selfless, keen, determined, truthful, valiant and will always stay the course. It does not waver upon conditions nor embrace disingenuous tactics for personal gain since it knows that the percentage of a person's character can be solely measured by the total embodiment of its precepts.
Honesty is its heartbeat while humility, temperance and patience are its guides. It is only through integrity that peace can exist. For when we are at peace with our actions - when, in every situation we exercise the power of its position, then the how, what and whys of the world are of no consequence since we know that truth is the basis to any prosperity - beginning with the prosperity of our souls.
If there is one thing I would teach my children, it is that integrity is the single most important principle to living; it is the key, power and essence of Being.
- This Carman Girl
Honesty is its heartbeat while humility, temperance and patience are its guides. It is only through integrity that peace can exist. For when we are at peace with our actions - when, in every situation we exercise the power of its position, then the how, what and whys of the world are of no consequence since we know that truth is the basis to any prosperity - beginning with the prosperity of our souls.
If there is one thing I would teach my children, it is that integrity is the single most important principle to living; it is the key, power and essence of Being.
- This Carman Girl
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