witifulramblings

Posts Tagged ‘women’

Day 93: I know the pain of a heartbreak…

In Couples, Dating, God, Happiness, life, Love, Teaching on August 4, 2013 at 11:27 pm

I couldn’t sleep the other night so I decided to do a random YouTube search. With all of the recent hype concerning little Prince George, I decided to look up Princess Diana interview footage; I wanted to see what she was like.

As I watched her talk, she was surprisingly candid and honest. I remember the hype around her death, although I was still young at the time, and the overwhelming commentary concerning her beautiful, giving heart. This became apparent to me as I listened to her speak. She made it clear that her issues were a means to empathy. She could feel what the bulemic girl in the hospital was feeling because she actually felt it too. She could understand the depressed woman because she felt it too.

All great, compassionate people love others in a way that is personal and close. They love that way because they’ve felt the pain of heartbreak once too.

Heartbreak isn’t easy,

It isn’t clear

And you don’t need Jesus till you’re here.

As I experience heartbreak in my life, I come to know two things better.

Life if full of pain.

And we can use that pain to do good, or we can let it eat away at us.

a whit.

Day 54: Fumbling With Power Tools.

In DIY, Humor, Men, wit, Women, Work on July 15, 2012 at 6:13 am

This is my street.

This is my neighbor on my street…this morning.

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A little later on today…

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And…

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Man versus woman. Man fumbles, woman gets it done. Nuff said.

A Lesson on Happiness: How Words Transform (Day Eleven)

In English Major, Happiness, Humanity, Laughter, life, Love, Men, Men, wit on July 29, 2010 at 4:21 pm

A wonderful philosopher once said, “As is his language so was his life.”

The past two weeks have been wonderful for me as I’ve reflected on so many things, the present and the past.  The words written here have transformed, somewhat, and they’ve changed my perspective on things.  So ten days in review, a lesson on how to be happy (plus some added extras).    See you don’t need Prozac after all.

  1. listen to those around you, see what they’re saying, you may find truth. (thank you Mr. Be Happy)
  2. Do something you haven’t dared before
  3. Embrace life, whatever it brings (Hello Earl)
  4. Create your own reality
  5. Live your dreams or in them (that’s fun too)
  6. Let thoughts of happiness infiltrate your ideas
  7. Remember to live (don’t check out empty handed)
  8. Recognize that some days are just going to be shitty
  9. Talk to yourself
  10. If you have holes in your soul–fill em’ up

I realize my realities can be whatever I make them; I can write my own world.  We can all live in our dreams and hopefully those dreams make up our bliss.  You don’t have to pretend to be happy (I used to do that) you just have to give yourself permission to let the good in.  One last thing, let the words of others pervade—sometimes you gotta get out of your own head.

Daily Cupcake: Deception or Ignorance: Which is worse?

In life, wit on July 26, 2010 at 8:29 pm

The war in the Middle East upsets me.  However much this is NOT a forum for my political affiliations/beliefs I will not suspend any amount of truth from being told here.

The only thing that upsets me more than governmental deception is ignorance.  Someday this will all be history.  Please be assured that you can answer to your grandchildren and the history books, afterall, you got to be here.  That’s not lucky, that’s a priviledge.

Inception: Can we ever truly decipher reality?: Day Neuf

In life, wit on July 26, 2010 at 5:09 pm

Whose to say that reality is when we wake up perhaps the opposite is true, maybe, reality is when we close our eyes and just dream.

I met him sitting on a couch in a swanky club.  His hair was long and his blue eyes piercing, I called him Fabio. His name, “Ethan.”

He says he’s a dentist with a little girl, Hayley.  Hayley’s Mom died of blood cancer—they were married for ten years.  I sense his sadness or perhaps he was just really drunk, but I don’t think so.  We sat there for a long time and I asked most of the questions. Finally, while showing him a picture of my little E that’s when he inquired about our “arrangment” (this term always references custody in the divorce world).  The only time he inquired, and when he did so, it’s as if his sadness reflected directly onto me.

It’s funny how people come into our lives and for a moment change how we think.  Sometimes those thoughts are lasting and pieces of them never dissipate.  It’s like we can’t forget,  our mind won’t let us, ideas of them consume us although at different depths—some small, some big.  Not just people, it can be about anything really—love, happiness, sadness, hysterity.  Once we let them in we’re subject to all their idiosyncracies.   Thoughts are never isolated, that’s not how our mind works, they come in, and then they infiltrate every part of our being.  They alter what we thought before and our truth transforms into something new– something that incorporates this new thing.  It’s mental evolution.

Last night I could not fall asleep.  I’ve been doing really well with this happiness thing.  I can already see my empty hole (the one within my soul) beginning to fill.  The idea, that you must insist upon happiness, you must want it, and work for it—that is now a part of me.  It’s a good thing.   But last night, I missed E.  When he’s with his Dad it’s always hard.  I sat there for a long time, on my bed, waiting to break down, but it didn’t happen.  My mind wouldn’t let me. I could only focus on the fact that he would be back in just a weeks time and then a funny thing happened, I began to recall all of the things in my life that are truly good, true goodness.  I thought of health, and my family, Ini, my job.  I thought of the beautiful plant on my kitchen table.  Suddenly all of that became my reality and I no longer felt sadness but rather happiness.  I thought briefly of Ethan and our meeting.

The mind is a place where life is captured, stored, and processed.  Ultimately, our state of mind equates to our state of life.

The night ended and Fabio, or Ethan, or whoever, went home.  I don’t know if he really was a dentist, a dad, or a widow.  I don’t even  know if I met him in the sense I thought I did, but these details don’t matter anyway.  I do know, he came into my life somehow, and now he’s my idea.

His eyes were defeated—or were they mine?  Was I looking into my own eyes, seeing myself from another perspective?  Perhaps, it was all just a dream, one that woke me up to see the greater me—the happy me.  Maybe that’s why on the bed last night while fighting off defeat I thought of him– just briefly.  Then the idea of happiness resumed.

Eat, Love, Pray: A Tribute

In life, wit on July 23, 2010 at 8:32 pm

We didn’t have a cupcake yesterday, so I am obligated to provide you with something really rich today.  Slight problem, I’m feeling–half eaten.  Probably because I finished this book.  Read it, so great.  Time for a trip to the bookstore nearest me.  I’ll miss you latest great memoir.

Sifting Through Memories: Day Six

In life, wit on July 21, 2010 at 8:37 pm

Back to the tree analogy and my marriage, slash, divorce, slash, everything in between.  There I am with my shovel in hand, covered in dirt, and a gaping hole in the backyard of my mind. I’m trying to plant a tree here.

Actually, I was on a bed having a pity session, but nevermind that.

With each shovel of dirt, I dig, something new reveals itself or a memory surfaces.  It was like unexplicable deja-vu a thousand times over.  I’d be sitting on one of those toy structures at the park, watching my son jaunt from slide to slide, and suddenly remember a trip or a moment.  Moments are always accompanied by feelings, at least for me, when something is really special I can feel it, taste it, smell it.  I even have a theme song playing in the background.  That’s what happened this morning outside my apartment as I was locking the door.  A breeze was present and the air had a smell of early winter when it’s just beginning to feel crisp.  It reminded me of so many places I’ve been before, it reminded me of September 21, 2005.  Theme song: Tim McGraw, “Let the Wind Blow By” (I recommend playing it while you read this next section).

My blood pressure was high that day, extremely high.  At least that’s what the nurse midwife told me as she undid the pressure cuff and immediately picked up the phone.  Okay, you’re coming back at 1:00–this little guy is going to make his debut today.  She was right, he did.  We got into the car and drove cautiously back to our townhouse, afterall we didn’t want to die en route the hospital to have a baby, actually, I did kind of.  Slamming the trunk shut I took one last puke into the bush (for old time’s sake) and hopped in the car.  For about two exits I thought about how much I would miss the constant throwing up, lack of sleep due to heartburn, itchy belly skin, among other things.  Pregnant women really are hormonal.  At exit three I turned to my then husband, “why don’t we just turn around, turn around!   I changed my mind.”  Unfortunately, there is no changing your mind when you’re nine months pregnant.

Two weeks earlier I vowed that if the pregnancy didn’t end within one month time I would rather be dead.  That is another hormonal pregnancy thought.  It’s also what nine months of vomit does to you.  At exit four I was resolved and praying that my pelvic cavity would do its job.  The hospital room had one of those birthing bathtubs, which I took one look at, just one.  Then I shut the door and ordered all those present to keep it closed indefintely.  The nurse had no problem with that, she promply attached me to the bed via plastic tubing–have at it girl.  At this point, I am thinking two words over and over in my head–watermelon, lemon, watermelon, lemon…how does this equate?

In all actuality, babies aren’t really the size of watermelons and your va jay jay isn’t the size of a lemon either—not when it’s done doing its job.  After four hours of labor (that included pushing) little E entered the world at a mere six pounds, God was watching over me that day.  Despite all my fears, I now realize that labor was the least of my worries, the very least.

The next morning at eight a.m.,  I ordered the nurse to sign the orders that would release me.  My ex sister in-law used to say she was staying as long as they’d let her, five days. Five days?!? Pardon me, but I think I’ll nurse my va jay jay back to health at home and  I was going home, freedom (with a slight inflection)!  I squeezed into my size one jeans (I know rough) and dressed little E for his big trip.  This is where the important part of the story happens, the breeze, the crisp air, the smell, September 21, 2005 (well actually 22nd by now but you get the picture), easily the best moment of my life.  Stepping out of that hospital I was free to live my life however I would choose; free to be the Mom of little E and raise him to know all good things and some bad too, so he’d pick the best experiences in life.  That day, as I placed his seat in my car, I couldn’t know exactly what was to come but I did know certain things.  Like life was good and the crisp air would someday be a remembrance, a moment.

That moment came:

in the fall of 2006 as E took his first steps on the porch,

and 2007 when I found him chasing the dog through the leaves,

2008 as he “spit” out his third birthday candles,

2009 while riding his bike in the autumn months.

This morning it came unexpectedly as I locked the door to our apartment.  Its summer and E spends most of it with his Dad now in Southern California (a product of the divorce).  I won’t see him for another two weeks, so in my humble opinion E sent me that moment on a hot July day to remind me.  This fall is kindergarten, a fresh start at something new for E, maybe me too.  You can turn the music off now.

Three and a half years of digging and remembrances has left me tired and happy and melancholy all at the same time.  I’m thinking it’s finally time to fill that hole up.

Your whit. ing. mom

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