Colors

In truth, I don't fit a mold; I don't seek social status or position to delineate my sense of worth or to confirm some kind of superficial hierarchy. And yes, while I would very much like to never have to worry about whether I can provide a roof over our heads, clothes for the family, or fear of being unable to satisfy impending bills, I still - even now, and every day - define us as blessed.

In truth, my heart beats to a different drum. In truth, I am alive in thoughts, conversation, discussion, perspicacity. I am alive in the tiniest miracles that happen every single day. I am alive in the people whom I meet in a grocery store line, in those I observe at work, in everyday errands, in the dearest friends who "get" my crazy heart.

I want meaning. And I crave it and demand it in every absolute expression of value and significance. I want to understand it, grasp it, champion it, and then become.

This is why I step outside to inhale the night sky, drenching myself in my endless obsession with the limitless universe and the rise of the moon. This is why I can't help myself but to breathe in the elixir of the stars and call them mine.

This is when I feel the power of "I am" the most.

For, I am.

I am is a theme song, and we all have been called to our own...

This is what I'm talking about: when our souls meet the clouds and vaporize into mist, rise with the stars, and then exceed their midst. Because the love of the Lord and His creations will overwhelm our senses and confirm inherent truths of worthiness, paths, miracles, and direction.

This is where my spirit dwells; this is where it floats. This is where the exuberance of childish laughter and the sweetness of anticipation for the smallest things, bubbles up and out from my chest in gusts of joy. This is why I am mesmerized by the seemingly mundane: my husband making dinner - his never-ending jokes, the echoes of laughter responding to such quips, and our daughter home for Christmas from college. Oh, to be together in the warmth of family! <

Yes, I could look around me to see all that is broken, weathered, undone. Yes, I harbor human wants that sometimes nag at my senses or want to argue with comparison; but I can't give them energy or allowance because I am so filled with the sweet miracles that happen every single day for us. And it is in these that I know the Lord is mindful and generous, without fault, and very much vested in timing and intention. It is in these that I am witness to His unerring love for all of His children and why I am filled, spent, euphoric.

While parts of me wonder if just being delighted with the smallest things might not just be a defense mechanism in disbelieving we could be worthy of larger things, I leave that to the purity of mindfulness and the willingness to discover, uncover, and be amenable to the excitement of future and healing. Whatever that looks like.

In the mean time, however, I am still, thankful, quiet, and content. Indeed, I feel the timing and details of all things...

This, fulfills my everything.

- Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Credit: My "On This Day" post, December 18, 2017.

Just My Soul, Spinning Snippets of a Story...

(Robert Louis Stevenson Trail, Mt. St. Helena, Sept. 2012)

Twas simply the gnome, peeking out from the dark crevice of a mossy rock, who had caused the comical ruckus in its entirety. Certainly the poor, unfortunate belching frog had come along at the most opportune moment and should be awarded his due for participation in the scheme, but the master plan was the gnome's alone and the results had been priceless. That would teach those silly humans for a while. His laughter echoed on, still disguised by the residual effect of so high-pitched a shriek, it made him fall into yet another bout of humorous aside.

Even so, he could never understand the brain within such professedly intellectual, self-assured creatures. Every day, it was one fool or another, slinging a backpack in silly shoes made precisely for "hiking." Hiking?! A recreational venture he understood to be a form of weekend diversion generally done simply for the lauding of it later to their own communities. Again, his shoulders threatened to convulse as he thought of how Clif bars, water bottles, and the buffoonery of their posture, all took a turn in the air from the rollicking results of his little ditty.

Did the humans really dare to think that they could traipse through his terrain without some kind of set-down for the allowance of their often irritating trespass? With just a hint of residual mirth, he shoved off from the cold stone, one more simple bounce from his shoulders and a self-satisfied smile teasing the ends of his whiskers.

Truth be told, Master Gnome Kittayous Disastrous (as he was known in those parts) would have done much more but for the distraction of two tiny faeries, tittering in delight across the dense foliage, ready to rout him out in an equally mischievous game. He retreated farther on a sigh... still remembering the singular sounds of the men, their clumsy footprints squashing perfectly beautiful leaves into the dense, rich, damp and earthy soil.

He should have deserved a moment or two of more fun. Those seemingly pesky, but often more delightful girly things, with iridescent sparkling wings and high-arched brows, always wanted to compete. But for them, he would have done more; still, his eyes glittered with appreciation and admiration for their tactics, noting even further that all was fair within the ancient rules of this mountain home.

With that, the gnome melted into the darkness, the whisper of his felt boots sliding into the deep, his ever-impish presence simply nothing more than the mirage of the sun, glinting off the damp and dewy lichen that grew upon towering conifers and fallen logs alike...

- Living Joy - This Carman Girl <3

Note: This girl might blog about joy, or spew thoughts from a soapbox of opinion, but her childish imagination is still alive and well. I credit my mom, Elen McConnell Wright, for any, and every, foray into imagination. During the years we were home-schooled (in my youth), each morning, my mother would leaf through a book of paintings, pick one, discuss the artist, and then ask us to write an essay or story surrounding the piece. It's because of this that my eyes soak up the scenery, and my heart beats so surely with what it is to seek, know, and enjoy -- More. <3Smiles...

Seminary

While credentials can be integral to job preparation, applicable education, however, is the vital means by which we explore theory and reason, relevancy, artistic reconnaissance, intellectual acumen, psychological conditioning, refractory questions, and the accumulation of said summations that would substantiate the innate gifts we each possess.

When education is sought only as a means to an end, it ceases to yield value; for those who seek its letters as merely a mark of recognition on an otherwise meritless resume, such fool themselves, gravely discounting the pursuit of excellence and mindful intelligence, in favor of abysmal ignorance, printed upon the disenfranchised despondency of an often argued, dissected, and comparison-driven paycheck.

Ergo: greed. Yield: artificial need. Epilogue: certain depression.

While universities should be respected and lauded as foundations of formal achievement, it is only through a mindset that would voraciously seek the continuation of learning - as if through a child's eyes (with curiosity and an insatiable need that could never be harnessed, bridled, nor confined) - that such could ever successfully contend against the propagation of incumbent rhetoric or disingenuous dogma.

Knowledge is an infinite quest, granting each of its students an unerring library of thought and consideration, experience, and idealism -- yes, a vast and veritable prolific garden of intractable truth.

True education not only encourages singular thought and the allowance for the possibility of untried consequence, but it also relishes and supports any and all of the above as a significance that would and could contribute a mark upon this world.

In layman's terms: I suspect that one could learn a vastness of wisdom and knowledge by simply interviewing one of our elderly, truly receiving their life's actualization over and above any kind of prideful mark embossed upon shiny letterhead.

Let that sink in.

Drenched in humility.

For while there will always be one who solely seeks income, there will equally stand alone a spirit who is mindful, soul-filled, ponderous, and yet so incredibly floored by even the most humble inheritance.

In this world, we either have the choice to seek gain, or reap meaning to enjoy eternity.

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Prognosis

I suppose this is a war cry of sorts: we are who we are, and it's not up to us to prove someone else's variant, mistaken perception of us - ever. 

When in every moment we are engaged in the truth of our own souls, it is enough; and so, to disregard the naysayers and climb ever onward! The only groups worthy of any notice, whatsoever, are those who are vested in uplifting (rather than sidelining) in the often socially acceptable mire of stasis, complaints, accusations, and mire.

I SAY: Put on your running shoes, and drink in PURE OXYGEN.

GRINS. I DO. Oh, it's Glorious. Own your truth.

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Petals

My soul is filled, joyful, thankful. I cannot help but feel the power there is to be found in personal choice, thought, accountability -- in gratitude for the smallest things, and how the shift from comparison to compassion, broadens the scope from a simplicity of merely being, into a conscious realm of active living. 

This is why my spirit springs from my heart, loud with joy, and perhaps overly expressive. It's in interaction, service, and the privilege it is to have loved and learned, wept and laughed, found myself in the midst of heartache, and yet risen to the other side in perfect appreciation for what was then, and is so miraculously now.

Regardless of circumstance.

In defiance of darkness.

In a pool of light and truth that separates all that might whisper doubt or fear as not turbulence to consider, but reminders of what diligently sustains foundations of grounded well-being.

To stubbornly decide upon hope, day after day -- every thought, every moment. Every time.

It's invitation to rise up to embrace the unknown -- through any and every heavy storm, searing heat, frozen landscape, or parched earth. To accept such with an openness of heart and a willingness that would seek meaning from the gradient shades of perspective gained through inclement weather.

It's to disallow pride to yield to humility; to give, to receive, to love, to honor, to forgive, to confide, to cherish.

It's delicate rosebuds polished with diamond droplets, waiting patiently for their moment to blossom -- neither anxious for the morrow, nor envious of other lovelies basking in their own crowning beauty. These never think to fear the inevitable peak when petals will fall, and they must meekly relinquish cloak and gown, until the next time.

It's the shining testimony of God's resplendent earth -- semblant metaphors bearing fruit, cheerfully confident in exercising truth and ownership, cognitive of timing and living their glory, wise to the present, and yet willing to bend to the ebb and flow of birth and growth, life-cycle and change.

It's to soak up the rain, and to live in laughter.

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Fall Leaves

Sometimes, the wind serves as a reminder that there's opposition in all things. And that's not only okay -- but, paramount. Truth cannot be conjugated and/or absorbed until such a time that it presents itself without mercy as to its notice. While parodies or excuses of truth might proliferate and abide, honest truth - above guile or mal-intent -- remain. Period.

For truth, of itself, is unchangeable: not for the season, condition, perception, history, emotion, etc.

No, truth exists of its own accord; and, as I've blogged before, wisdom is its advocate. To embrace its gifts and receive such bounty is to release enclaves of blame in favor of perspective and harmony.

Offerings.

Living Joy - This Carman Girl 

<3

Stillness

To serve is mindful, humbling, and yet renewing. We may not be able to change the world, but to make someone's day might change theirs. Either way, we are forever changed in the process. 

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Silhouette

Women who own their authenticity, and fully grasp the inherent divinity of their individual creation, are those who shun gossip and decry demeaning behavior. These are the powerful women, the soft-spoken women, the influential; these are women who are not fueled by popularity, but by grace. They return light and easy smiles in meekness and kinship instead of floundering in backbiting, negativity, or scorn.

So, let us all rise up into such truth; for when we've owned ourselves, then there's nothing to prove, but everything to support and love.

To stand in strength, solidarity, ownership, and renewal.

This is to command life. #UnapologeticallyLivingLarge #InspireOthers#FuelGrowth #SingIt #RebelChoir

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Cart Roundup

Last night, I sat in a parking lot and casually noted couples walking into the grocery store together. For the majority, one would walk ahead of the other; very rarely, did I see any walking in tandem with even the barest element of expressing their attachment.

I also watched elderly people who appeared seemingly distracted: the first was a gray-haired, slightly-bent wife tottering on, gesticulating wildly in shocking verbal abuse; while for another couple, it was the lean, balding but bearded husband, who expressed obvious irritation and anger at having to wait for his spouse.

There were several mothers carrying children - one had a child who was perched on her hip as the other was in the top of a cart; some were yelling at their young, while others looked visibly exhausted as they sorted through paper bags, food items, and clipped their little ones into car seats.

I also observed husbands of varying ages in either complete disregard of their wives, or all the more scorned for the trying; some seemed to completely ignore their part in the leadership of the family, while others were very definitely unable to do anything but "fall into line," as it were, so as not to incur their young wife's harried wrath.

Such scenarios played out within as little as twenty minutes -- and it gave me pause to evaluate, internalize, and learn.

Do we continue to invest as we did, once upon a time? Do we walk ahead impatiently; or more sadly, reprimand a spouse only because we're in our own hurried flow of stressful energy?

Are we cognitive of the ownership of singular potential, or that of those whom we've chosen to share our lives with? Do we really understand, to the most elemental degree, that our chosen family should merit our absolute and continual highest regard?

What misplaced priorities over-shadow such relationships? When did struggle or complacency, collected over time, undermine the sacredness of marriage and/or family?

My thoughts circled back to the unequivocal truth that with any relationship, what we put into it is what will come to be; we have to take ownership of internal intent. So, I say: Be the couple who laughs and loves for always.

What I have come to learn is that there is a fallacy in youth that somehow each of us grow up with this idea that, in some way, we'll learn to do everything "right", and then make it to a plateau of peace without trial; but, that simply isn't so - in fact, it's quite directly the opposite. Yet, what's so incredibly soul-filling, and so humbling, is the knowledge that who we're blessed to share life with, is everything. And, more -- what we do with that will either make life easier, or present stumbling blocks.

Invest; for circumstances will always come and go, but the perceptions and attitudes we allow within our consciousness will either invade a union or strengthen its design.

#LiveJoy #LoveFamily #CreateLife

Living Joy - This Carman Girl  

Dusk

There are so many stories inside of me that I want to share about growth and loss, blessings and renewal, heartache and loneliness, devastation and the dogged sense and pursuit of infinite hope. These are stories that, when I think of my family - when I think of the Valley Fire (and every single one since), when I think of my extended family - the exchange of words seems to present a tangible spirit of wonder all their own within the letters -- as if each word is a solid form, rather than a brush stroke or hurried scribble. 

I feel as though the very oxygen we breathe in our community shares stories without even the formation of a syllable. I feel a kinship to home and neighbors so powerful that it's as if I see only the hearts of people, and have ceased to be able to ever return to the idea of stress, "busyness," and the ever-present haunting angst of being "enough." And if I can't begin to share all of the thoughts I really want to - to properly put them into phrases and expression - it honestly wouldn't matter; for, individual stories emanate from every single face within this community. They are demonstrated within the choke of tears, in the unabashed abruptness of laughter, in tenderness, in faith, in receiving. 

In simply being.

I heard the softness of my mother's voice and her quiet strength the other night, knowing the imminent loss of her husband. I can hear his words still as he whispered through the phone lines, "I love you, sweetheart." I felt his spirit to the depth of my soul; it was larger than his aging body. In turn, I craved every lilt and lightness in my sister's soft voice and quiet discussion later that night; I soaked up the gift of her ease and acceptance of humanity at large. She truly embodies love - always creating, pondering, inspiring, and molding life. 

Don't you see?!

Every second is our second. 

Every single one.

Time is nothing, and yet it is everything. Every day, life is within us and beyond us. And so, in all ways, I feel my spirit carried in the wind and echoing outward, meeting, grieving, feeling, laughing, thinking, exploring. Experiences are open-ended and eternal. The family we love and lose are forever there. Still. 

I am hanging onto "I love you, sweetheart," knowing that it's a voice and love that cannot be parted by mortality, ever. Ever. And I'm hanging onto the truth that no one leaves us entirely when such a loved one has gifted a legacy through simply having risen up to live, seek, share, and embrace an unforgettable life.

In light of such things -- call me crazy, but the charred ruins of the hills that surround me catch my breath by their sheer audacity of will and uncompromising spirit. I am in love with our county. I am in love with every burned spot of ground, every small shoot of green, every hollowed oak, solitary chimney, or otherwise. 

I am in love with the patients whom I am blessed to serve; I am humbled by the unspeakable responsibility it is to consciously be aware that it is my first obligation to step outside of any personal difficulties simply for the sacred privilege of executing my job. And, more -- it is the whole sum of humanity in all of its states that reaches back and gifts my understanding with a multiplicity of introspection and awareness. A monumental cognition of blessings. A shift in expectation, valuation, needs.

Tenacity, to me, is beautifully sacred -- nothing else could ever score so high. 

So it is with fire, death, hardship, or the unknown. What I have come to know (and to never depart from such a truth of vital consequence) is that what matters in this life begins, ends, or converges when the recesses of soulful exchange -- on the most raw levels -- witnesses the purest essentials of love and human need. Period.

This, alone, engenders happiness and develops legacy. 

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Thunder Bay

There is no measurement or achievement that truly counts but the one that teaches. So, all you have to ask yourself is: what am I learning now?

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Charter

If we no longer want to feel like an island, then we have to allow ships into port -- for, without supplies, we can't build the bridges needed for any kind of passage into another realm of living. 

Truths, ownership, navigation -- options. Set your course. 

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Lakeside

Perspective. Hope. Redirection. Love. To see life through the lens of a camera with a shutter speed set to catch every detail, possibility. To know that even the most exquisite photographs must spend time in a dark room to develop every compelling detail with clear definition. Patience, gratitude, time. Then imagery, finally complete in its process, finds Life in the light without limits...

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Story Book

No doubts. Just happiness flying low over a landscape of new direction. I can't help but re-ask the question - What part of life at this very moment lights you on fire? And will you go for it?

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Centerboard

When conformity is the abysmal and apathetic norm, remain steadfastly and deliberately entrenched in what it is to be free-thinking. Question. Always question. Learn as much as you can. Refrain from any insistent need that would crave validation when sought from places of rampant insecurity.

Dream. Imagine. And then take those dreams fueled by said imagination and relentlessly pursue them.

And -- for all us who live life as either "all, or nothing" -- a gentle reminder that Rome wasn't built in a day. One thought change, attitude change, actual change, behavioral change -- will equal pivotal change over time.

Let loose your sails.

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Tear Drop

Some mirrors have two sides; some are distorted, while others lie in pieces shattered beyond repair. Silver threads of truth exist within all of these reflections -- scattered thoughts, hopes, dreams, joy, loss, scars, dignity and strength -- refractive heartbeats drumming to one larger human heart. Only the finest silver will bring a clear pane it's beauty, for therein lies the deepest, tenderest etchings of the soul.

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Longing

It is belief, of its own accord, that enacts change. 

Most of us have been conditioned to accept that any change (especially propagated within this day and age) should actually appear as some kind of monumental struggle we must contend against -- a supreme effort that would rely upon an extraordinary will-power that is entirely bent upon moving forward by our own merit and sheer force of will.

Oh, no.

I say: By virtue of its very definition and inception, true change (the wanted kind -- not the trying kind, not the half-hearted kind) insists, as well as requires, a complete and total paradigm shift in outlook, intention, fruition, and future.

Therefore, it is safe to establish that there is not one goal that can't ever be met or sustained, if the desire behind it exists from the absence of emotionally-driven intent -- regardless of intensity, will, heartache, or drive.

We can't pick and choose from the old, based upon comfort levels -- just as we can't pick and choose as to faith upon transitory fears. Truth either is, or it isn't; we believe miracles either happened in the Bible, or they didn't.

Each, either manifest themselves daily within our own humble lives, or we refuse faith and deny hope.

Belief, of itself, is an essential purity of spirit and soul; it seeks meaning, purpose, and direction. It is the antithesis of self-serving, and yet the embodiment of yearning, hope, and sharing.

There is no pre-selection (as if one could decide that truth is as lettuce leaves: some ready, some wilted) to be picked through as the world of social media pares down and denies inherent worth.

Oh, no. Truth demands far more than that.

We can't choose or discard truths of any kind; for we either receive them and believe them, or we're simply not on board.

Truth is not an opinion, and opinion is not truth: one is a sacred relevance; the other possibly unsure arrogance.

And yet -- regardless of either definitions, descriptions, representations, or conditions, isn't fallacy and humanity blessed to enjoy a latitude of education that could, might, and does embrace the searching, haunting, hurting, mindful, asking, and uncertain?!

And isn't uncertainty, the proverbial back-and-forth -- wanting and wishing, fear and denial, faith and future, progress and delay -- actually okay?

Oh, yes. It's more than okay.

Because in such a place we learn and grow, embrace awareness, develop relationships, and humbly receive what's sustaining, so that each sure knowledge of belief then becomes powerfully immutable, impervious to transitory experiences; and therefore joyfully sets forth, as stepping stones upon a backyard path, in earnest growth and grateful potential.

While some might verbalize, advertise, or promote their own perfection -- oh, making all the "right choices" (as Wall Street might support living within less difficulty), it is the life that dwells within the fringes of character, soul, sorrow, experiences, hope, denial, pain -- and a myriad of fearful choices (that might even delay or circumvent forward progress) that completely contributes to sustaining foundations.

Let this settle. Repeat and reread, if necessary.

Consider that the most loving, wholesome, invigorating, and euphoric changes actually springboard from releasing struggle, calendar dates, and any other such time-constricting categorization. Wholeness simply falls into place.

For, truth transcends time. Period. All else remains subject to the rise and fall of circumstances, emotions, reactions, human accounting, and subsequent decisions that may or may not further mortal experiences or vitality.

Belief, alone, is the change. So, I say: Dare to make it happen.

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Acreage

(Throwback blog, written in 2010.)

All of us were blessed with innate gifts upon birth -- gifts that await recognition through the processes of time, growth, and maturity. They generously allow us yin and yang, insecurity or mastery, and graciously look on as we flirt with unparalleled fulfillment, or trifle with the temptation to carefully tuck them away in a safe, darkened corner where no one can observe their possible failure.

Enter narcissism.

Most associate narcissism with an unerring self-interest - an arrogant stance which requires accolades, attention, and the spotlight in its entirety. And yet, the loud obnoxious forms that we generally associate with narcissism are simply a more visible coping tool for ordinary people who fear the same shaming colors of inadequacy as the rest of us. And over and above an initial derisive reaction to these, the energy they usurp is in no way strong enough to substantially suffocate the well-being of those of us who surround them.

I would heavily argue that the most narcissistic among us are actually those who are invisible and have chosen to bury their gifts in darkness. It is those who would prefer to wallow in ill-humor, then take the necessary risk of owning their divine rights and sharing such bounty with others, who cause the most grievous waves of damage. They prefer the cover and ease of criticism to the bonding strength of ownership; and it is in their decision to thrash indefinitely in the murky choking debris of personal sediment, that they are only able to reap the damning repercussions of flagrant self-interest.

Selfish interest.

No one is immune. No one is alone. No one is that pathetic that their life does not affect another human to some pivotal degree. I think that poor self-esteem is the most devastatingly selfish position there is; it has the ability to negatively impact the lives, thought processes, and attitudes of generations.

Generations.

Our own lives as children began from a foundation only as strong as the level at which our parents were able to rise above their own self-captivity. And oh, how this thought (of itself) causes me to pause, steals my soul, and throws me into a realm that insists I compare, evaluate, and then consciously dissect my own position, motherhood, parenting, outlook, and formative angst.

And then step into forgiveness. For my parents, for myself, for my soul. For my children.

More than that, it opens up waves of clarity, humility, humanity, kinship, and release. And I think of my parents far differently than I would have otherwise: flawed, human, youthful, seeking -- novices at adult life just like any of the rest of us.

Such a recognition, alone, assigns enormous responsibility; it is a sacred obligation and invitation to fulfill the gifts inherent within; to move beyond all that came before us as a tribute to our own parents in their efforts and ability. It is then ours to magnify, boldly embrace, and then assume the mantle of humility that would walk hand-in-hand with the refining processes of such allowance, introspection, compassion, and even recompense.

And as for struggle, sorrow, sadness or depression - those are even greater tools that either catapult our talents to the top of their potential, or squander them, and leave us floundering in spirit, closing our eyes to the very truth that personal behavior does indeed affect all others...

Spouses, siblings, family, friends, co-workers.

How we behave at any given time offers impact and a ripple-effect of behavior and outlook. While a generous smile can spread a thousand more, so it is that a narcissist can crush it all underfoot.

So, how can such emotion be reinvented into positive tools? And how, if self pity is selfish, can it be rendered in any way effective? Because the basis of our strengths are borne from the barest essence of truth. And most of us are unable to accept truth unless it is seen without any adornment. And often, it is only when we experience a devastating setback that we can clearly see truth for what it is.

Human nature balks at peeling back the layers of relativity to the most elemental core because our need for ready comfort generally supersedes any desire for inherent integrity.

The most critical clearing point to this entire premise is that it is not emotion that damns, but rather the attitude behind the emotion. It is apathy, fear, anger, and ambivalence that effectively undermine self-character. And yet, in the sweetest contradiction, it is in the courage to exercise and explore the sobering processes of sorrow and depression that ultimately give way to transcending knowledge, strength, empathy and actualization.

This post isn't to mock depression; it is to give it credence and allow it a springboard to wholeness; to seek history and find meaning. To shelve inaccuracies to embrace what is actually sacred and true.

And that is when our talents and gifts break away from the heavy anchors of uncertainty and float. It is intent in its purest state -- abundant and glorious. It invites others to share and magnify their own gifts in a collective force of sustaining, enriching power, built upon a level far higher than the carbonate mud of jealousy. It is a willingness to embrace vulnerability in support of the limitless supplies of pure oxygen that are vital to us all.

And so, I say: Emerge.

Surrender to the processes of emotion and attend to your gifts.

Learn. Lead. Nourish.

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Destination

When sadness is so overwhelming that it eclipses anything one has ever used to cope: a numbness that supersedes it all. And then somehow, you're free. Just like that.

Live in the moment - every moment. 

Experiences should never be rated as to sorrowful or wonderful; for simply, they are filling, reaching, soul-searching and needful. 

To recognize time and space, need and emotion -- to absorb, dwell, contemplate, and then learn from these -- this is to be blessed.

Not priceless. Not trite. Not a Hallmark Gift Card.

No, rather, personal and miraculous.

Monumental.

And a place that would springboard wholeness from the excuse-ridden diatribe of personal stasis.

To own life, unafraid and uncontained.

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Anchor

True strength is found when the magnificent rising of the soul meets with great personal odds, and yet revels in the resilience and grace actualized as the challenged gauntlet is not merely defeated, but overcome.

Dare to imagine. Dare to believe.

Dare to be.

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Discourse

Logic cannot simply be characterized as the absence of emotion in the face of reason; rather (and more importantly), logic considers acuity, condition, purpose, fruition. It sifts through history, rejects the compulsory, and yet analyzes potential and accountability to meticulously predict performance. 

Logic is not merely scientific; it is the culmination of data and outlook, anthropology and awareness. It evaluates attitudes, pauses with plenary consideration (when met with open-ended mindfulness), is cognitive of hope, and yet intrigued by perspective.

Logic, by and large, disseminates fact from conjecture, and yet can keenly dissect and consider the possibilities of tomorrow.

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

Beginnings

New creation releases all self doubts, fears, ills. New creation lives from the pureness of the spirit in an eternal peace and calm and does not fixate on the seasons of the body. Just as spring blooms bright and then burns under the harshness of a summer sun, the beauty of the flower is no less viable nor pure. It's simply dormant. To treat each creation including self in this manner is to disregard the toxicity of mortal fear and step into the intrinsic value of our sacred potential. 

Living Joy - This Carman Girl

56 Packard, Red Leather Seats, Memories Optional

I thought of you when I slid behind the wheel, my fingers reaching for the radio, the music seeping into my thoughts, memories.  I thought of you as I drove, window slightly lowered, drinking in the air, the dusk, and reliving conversation and laughter.  I've thought of you for countless days and far too many months and I almost wish I'd never known the gateway you opened for me.

I think of you every time I see a similar make and model, a perfect photograph in vibrant detail, or have finished off an intense debate with close friends and family.  But I'm letting go, placing you safely in a box -- a compartment inside my head.  No longer the first thing I think of when I dream of larger things, deeper connection, and the simple want for more.

I can't be suspended within this vortex of need even one day longer because I have to move on.  The decision is made.  Reality sinks in.  And I will pause to remember the truth of it...

That people come in and out of life for a reason.  And every interlude matters.

Some touch us deeply and stay within reach for years, while other encounters are brief, too brief.  Yet poignant.  Nothing can match the gifts that are exchanged, the changes in perception, the illumination of human need, love, desire.  Duration does not make one iota of difference nor does it lessen impact.  You gave me impact.  Consideration. Introspection.

And if one day I run into you, my hope is that I gave you some of the same. Happiness.  Peace. Family.  So, consider this a bill of sale.  One last, long look at a priceless interlude.  And yes, you're an old one, but I was always told that they don't make them like they used to.  And I have to agree.

'56 Packard.  Red Leather Seats.  Memories Optional.

Fortitude

The truth is that I'm not lucky. The truth is that I'm not living within a fantasy world of naive machinations. The truth is that I once met the darkness of my soul and yearning in a pool of hopelessness and pain, and saw one spark of hope that compelled me to address the hollow lifelessness inside of my heart to seek the glimmer of light, begging for my attention and demanding that I never mire within my own shallow needs. Ever. Again.

The truth is that even within the midst of heartache and pain, I knew my own responsibility and choices - those that pointed to a decision to remember that life, itself, is a gift and not an idle miracle for a select few; that tragedy is for the bitter and disconsolate and not for the pure in heart. To realize that even casual breaths of oxygen are not just a reminder - no, they are a sacred edict to not only reject negativity, but to rise up within bravery and the resolute determination to meet and receive every miracle in whatever form they might deign to arrive. And, more - that the discovery and acceptance of responsibility will always, always reveal limitless joy.

Destiny and Divine inheritance are there to be had if we would only but be open to receive them.

The truth is, I knew that as a mother, my first responsibility before personal emotion, was to see to the welfare, joy, and success of my children; to never give up as long as my history and wisdom could provide sweetness, strength, perseverance, perspective, and the balance of grace in the shaping of their lives.

The truth is that when lies of toxic turbulence from anyone - partners, loved ones, well-meaning friends -- or even those whom we may have once trusted - none of these have to be accepted. None.

Ever.

In fact, it is mercy to reject such things. It is mercy to release others to their own processes, misery. It is mercy to let them wallow in and discover why they must drown in their own pity. And to leave them to it -- in gentleness, nonetheless.

We are all perfect within imperfection (I can't say this enough!); and yet we are also living within a world fraught with comparison, exacerbated by portended rights, and subsequently stripped of individual awareness. And while knowledge, compassion, trusting, vulnerability, and eagerness might be all evidences of buoyant youthfulness, today's social structures seek to manipulate against personal responsibility, while condemning, alienating, undermining, and vilifying anyone else's success.

It is little wonder the rampant dis(ease) of depression and demise so prolific within our communities and across social media, academia, and even government: self worth swindled and misrepresented, artificial highs sold at top dollar, marketed for gain, denying the inevitable lows, yet guaranteeing an aftermath of perpetuated jealousy and anger against the world at large.

Every time.

I maintain once more that we are, you are, they are: breathing, seeking, being, searching, learning, fearing, enduring -- yet worthwhile. Counted. Needed.

Needful.

So, you. Yes, you! Who might feel the sting of familiarity and displaced disgrace: Shake it off.

You are worthy.

Don't assign someone else's perception of your path where it doesn't belong. We're all here to journey for ourselves, in our time, as we learn, because we can. It's ours, and ours only, from a loving Father in Heaven.

So, square you shoulders and hear my voice. Hear my heart: hear my longing. Hear the sighs of loneliness I once felt. Feel the intensity of my aching when I once I gazed up into a Colorado night, tears sliding down my cheeks because I felt lost, helpless, stuck. Done.

Yet, because of this, I unequivocally know that God is aware of each of us now as we are, where we are. How we feel, and what we need.

But timing is everything. Please, trust this.

Believe.

Don't hurry the end, for you'll miss the process, insight, understanding, direction, and a multiplicity of other blessings.

Don't be hungry for love, for it will come; and it will be the kind that will sustain you, move you, inspire you, champion and invigorate your senses. It will unleash your spirit and lead you to see life with a measure of exuberance and fire, unrestrained, and fully engaged.

I moved hundreds of miles away -- across three states, to be exact, and have what I have now. My life turned on a dime. It makes me think of how foolish it is to guarantee tomorrow as if we'll live forever -- or more ignorantly, move about in morose malaise, inconsiderate of such a miracle.

So, rise up: accept, relish, and glory in everything that you have, experience, and are now. Yield to what was, for it has given you the promise and direction to discern and consider your thoughts for the morrow. Disallow all negativity, blame, and anyone whose sole purpose would malign your soul for their own misbegotten justification.

You are. And not only ARE you - living, breathing, seeking - you are blessed. And will be. So stare up at the sky now, not in sadness, but in expectation; for your heart and soul, wants and needs, are painted within the myriad of hues of an insistent and brilliant dawn, and it will magnify the course, direction, and consequence of your mortal existence when your mind meets completion under the shining brightness of the noon-day sun.

When you are ready, you will become. And you will recognize the magnificence that is within you.

So for now, let the lights of night dance upon you. The stars will light the way, thought upon thought, until you are ready for the day.

Living Joy - This Carman Girl