I got a text with an attachement. My nephew has started his own journey on Youtube. It’s called fishdudez. I’m so proud of him. I’m never met a more avid fisherman. He loves to makes his own fishing lures. A true country kid ironically who lives in South Florida. I love you Mason.
He doesn’t know I’m sharing this, but I’m a proud aunt. I will gladly support him, and build him up.
All lowercase fishdudez on Youtube.
Love you kid.
In the soppy slog
Sinking into
The deep green
Of grass
Not seen
In awhile
The valley
Has been productive
Nowhere near fun
As I celebrate
My birth soon
I’m realizing
What joy
Is found
In rebirth
One founded
On truth
That is being
Brought forward
Without blinders
Staring ahead
With hope
That change
Doesn’t have
To be
As scary
That necessary steps
Aren’t meant
To paralyze
But propel
Our feet
In motion
Walking the fields
Stetson as the topper
The leash
On the poodle
Who at fourteen
Still thinks
He’s in his prime
But after
A thirty minute walk
Collapses in
The chair
Snoring for
The next
Hour
The clouds
Fluff and puff
Like the pinkest
And stickiest
Cotton candy
From the state fair
And as
I’m setting
The scene
For a magical
Afternoon
I look out
My kitchen window
And my reality
Is on a nice
Downpour
To water
The parched garden
Dancing to
The beat
Of my
Own drum
Is freeing
My soul
And opening
My heart
To the
Possibility
That the
Miracle
Is ready
To be
Uncovered
Great outdoors
Speak to me
Draw me in
And seep
Into the marrow
Seeing straight
Is a problem
Going back
To the
Stone Age
Cooking over
An open flame
Let the oak
Flavor marinate
The Cornish
Game Hen
That will be
My lunch
Five things
Even since the social media cleanse, I realize how addicted I’d become. The desire for stuff, and the perfect lives of people had made my depression eat me from the inside out. I still have those desires, but with time I hope it subsides more. I spend less time on my phone, and in the real world. What a blessing.
I actually stare out my window, and wait for today’s story to come to fruition. It’s so different from how I would normally try and craft my narrative.
The pressure I put on myself to be productive was insane. My health is still recovering from my self imposed need to stay busy. Because busy is good apparently.
Birthday is coming up. Don’t know how I will celebrate. I don’t know what I want.
My favorite gift already came. It’s a birthday card from my friend Borqna. My Bulgarian friend knows how to cheer me up while reminding me of my worth.
Have a beautiful day.
Love yourself and one another.
Regine
What are you reading?
Will you will be watching the Olympics?
Any summer vacations?
What are you cooking lately?
What are you baking lately?
I had the first cantaloupe of the season. It was a small one. One I could play catch with. I had to rub it. Feel between the grooves. I lifted it up to my nose and smelled. I couldn’t smell anything. That didn’t stop my joy. I walked to the patch, and my happiness didn’t dim. I felt ease in my soul. Day two of no social media at all has been interesting. I’m immersing myself in letting the land speak to me. Speak it will.
I’m enjoying just feeling free from consumerism and comparison. The more I was on social media, the more I wanted things. I wanted what others had. Right now, I’m taking Hemingway’s cue with my computer and its keys. It’s just us. Nothing else. I don’t know if I will miss the friends I’ve made through Instagram, or if I will return.
I’m returning to my roots. The land is feeding my mind, body and soul right now. Walking to the line in Old Navy flip flops to hang out clothes. Letting the sun be my clothes dryer. Letting the wet grass sink into my toe beds. Smelling the freshly cut grass. Let’s call it eau du jardÃn. I’m taking out the old hula-hoop and taking it for a spin. Never got the hang of it. I still like to twirl it on my arms pretending to be a circus performer. A little chameleon in my own mind.
Letting childhood pleasures take hold. When I started taking life too seriously. Forget how to laugh. My face took on a permanent scowl. I’m not saying I won’t have days where I may feel like I’m missing something, but sometimes God does for us, what we are unable to do for ourselves. My own search for joy in what is already mine not in what is sought.
As my dogs are sacked out on couches with just some morning tunes on, I’m learning several things. I can’t force the process. Writing or otherwise. The words come at unexpected times. Sometimes its at 3 in the morning when sleep is a mirage. Or it is when I’m watching Netflix. Creativity is a not a process. A process that takes time. I’m not very patient. I know it. Known it for years. It’s where God and I come to a head most days. My internal dialogue with Him looks a lot like this:
R: Why again?
G: Child, this is your favorite question.
R: It is. You haven’t answered yet.
G: How many years have we had this chat?
R: Too many
G: You don’t trust me. It’s not a question. Your prayers are the same.
R: I’m just tired of waiting.
G: As long as I have you living, you have all the time in the world.
R: I know, but…
G: But what?
R: The world makes me feel like I’ve wasted time. Time I can’t get back.
G: Time is infinite for me. Nothing is ever wasted. Those years are preparing you for greatness. The world doesn’t determine your worth. I do.
R: I know. It’s hard.
G: You are in the world, but not of this world. I’ve been faithful. Now show me yours.
R: Okay
So folks, this journey is not easy, but I’m on it.
Love yourself and one another.
Regine
The redhead
In a DVF wrap
Strolling the
Upper East Side
In a Chloe satchel
Clutching a coffee
From Ralph’s
While her
Manolo’s clack
Against the sidewalk
At a breakneck pace
That makes me dizzy
Just being the casual
Observer I am
I’m headed
To another borough
To catch
The Bronx Bombers
Show the
Rest of
The American League
How it’s done
Too bad
I reminisce
About
The past
When it
Was the Jeter show
And a closeout
By Mariano
To seal the deal
Spark the flame
Shine the light
Find the joy
Listen for
The quiet
Sign
That you’re
On your way
To fulfill
The promises
That lead
To prominence
Love yourself
For when it’s done
The world
Opens up
To become
The fruit
Of your labor
Nothing is hidden
Nothing is held back
Freedom finds
The slave
Whose bonds
Have been
Released
Riding the horse in the early morning underneath the shadow of the trees, I take in the solace of your silent words. I guide the horse underneath the tree to pluck an apple. One for me and one for my friend. Taking a few moments to pet this divine animal who makes me euphoric. Animals are God’s gifts to us human who make simplicity seem so difficult.
Run wild
And free
My fierce
And regal
Companion
You love
As I caress
Your mane
And rub
Your ears
As you lean
Back
And find delight
In my touch
It’s foggy and drizzling. A perfect reprieve from the heat. Learning about oneself is a brutal task, but necessary.
I’m learning that I love seeking out the birds. I love to see creation soar. Maybe I could learn some lessons from the smallest birds who know that the birdfeeder is always full. They know God will provide through my faithfulness.
I love to see the fish swim around in the pond wild and free. Maybe I could swim wild and free not worrying about the next task that needs to be completed.
I’m learning that the dog wants constant love and affection. It has to be touching me. Maybe I need to be reminded that God will provide that for me if I ask.
What are you learning?
I stare up at a Parisian landscape, and imagine myself there. Until I make it, I will continue to marvel at the scene and think of the person who it belonged to before me. The worldly woman who danced to her own beat. The one who understood to joy of living. Who was a creature of habit. Who ate a bowl of cottage cheese topped with pineapple.
Never stop telling stories. They last beyond lifetimes. I look at their possessions, and imagine what brought them a smile. I’ve never met most of these people, but their not merely names. They come alive in my soul. I can imagine my great-grandmother making her son her favorite meal. The aunt who took each moment to wear pearls or her favorite brooch. I can imagine summer days at the shore dancing to Elvis or Sinatra.
So tell me all the stories. It’s what is remembered. Trust me. I tell my mother each day that these people may be no longer here, but they’re alive in me.
Alive you’ll
Always be
Because of
Your faithfulness
To build
Those I love
Into wonderful
Human beings
Taking a walk on the wild side. An early morning sweat as I walk down the driveway. Worship music flowing as I say not one word. Sometimes being still is being silent. I don’t need to ask anything. Simply be one with what is seen. The gravel moves along with my cadence. The sound as sweet as the music in my ears. I look around and see cut limbs that will dry out and maybe become firewood. I take a look at the trees swaying in the breezes that my hair get brushed by with every move.
I look for the lone rose or the lone weed that shows me both are needed. The rose has its outward. The weed not so much. The weed teaches more than the rose. The weed is resilient no matter how much of a nuisance it is. I’m the weed. I may be told I’m as pretty as the rose, but to live with CP, becoming the weed is imperative.
Being pretty gets me nowhere most days. The exterior is just the door opener. To keep the door open, the feisty weed you must morph into. The truth isn’t so pleasant sometimes. Sometimes you have to be honey, and others vinegar. I don’t like confrontation, but push come to shove, you must return punches. Learning to soar on wings not known to me before. My kindness to you is a gift from above. Don’t take it for granted.
Lord
As you morph me
Into the creation
I’m to be
Let me fierce
When needed
Yet still
Being soft
When necessary
Loving myself
Is the journey
I’m on
And if it
Means
Detaching
Or disconnecting
To be brought
Back to center
It’s late at night. The music is my only partner tonight. Life is what you make it. Finding reasons to smile. Unexpected blessings pop up when nothing is expected. I’ve had to learn that kindness can be exploited and manipulated. Will I stop being kind. No. Will I be more careful to guard my heart. Yes.
Right now I’m just enjoying sitting in darkness. In its presence, I practice stillness.
Pay attention
To your soul
It will speak
When you get
Ready
To listen
Without
Needing
Rebuttal
What is your win for the week?
What is making you smile?
Best recipe you made?
Book you read?
Thing you bought?
It’s a true blessing
To trust God
When everything
Makes no sense
But your calm
Knowing
It’s not
Your job
To figure
It out
Not every day
Is this good
When it is
I just accept
The gift
That it is
Took a little ride around the property. Needed to gaze at the rolling hills and green grass. Nature really clears the thoughts. Feel small sometimes. Let something be bigger. Be present. Be available to wonder.
Listening to Luke
And Morgan
Croon about
Country living
Makes me feel
Alive and well
Because they
Realize the joy
That comes
From living
This reality
Where net worth
Is not a thing
To celebrate
The dirt
Underneath
My toes
Is the gem
The diamond
Carats upon carats
Is covered
In red clay
As I pick the tomatoes off the vine. I swirl them in my hand. I feel its texture. It’s firmness. I examine its bright hue. I look for the sights around me. I listen for the bees. I smell for the flowers. I look for the hose to keep them watered. I seek the things that keep me fed. The grass grounds me to the earth. In your domain what am I?
I’m the apple of your eye
The gelato to the cone
Baseball to the American psyche
The truth is never pleasant
But it frees you
From your own prison
The enslavement
You created
Trying to be
The embodiment
Of perfection
That is an illusion
Because its not
An attainable reality
Love yourself and one another
I had a different post I was going to write. The Lord put on my favorite song, and said no ma’am. I’m taken back to a sermon yesterday taking about being fruitful in the place of your suffering. This one statement has thrown me for a loop. I don’t know what it looks like to be fruitful right now. What I’m realizing is that every ninety days I get a reprieve from my suffering. It lasts for sixty. The next thirty, suffering and I are reacquainted. So right now, I’m on the every day is a gift. I don’t like suffering, but I’m intimately aware of its presence.
Right now, I’m in a holding pattern where I don’t know what comes next. Life is a mystery. I get to unwrap it each day. Each day I wake without pain is hitting the lottery even when I look at my checkbook, and there aren’t many zeroes. I’m honestly convinced my current state is because God wants my undivided attention. I don’t need things. I need Him. I don’t need the world to tell me a sale will complete me.
So right now. Pain free means taking meds, stretch and get on my bike. Sweat and let the world fall away. Your health dictates for you that social media is not your friend. All you find is a fantasy not based in reality. Take a walk later, and say hi to my creatures. Marvel in creation. Go back to basics. I love you.
Love yourself and one another
R
Got a scare this morning. All due to a cricket. I can laugh now. Not much then. I wake up and walk to the kitchen ready to get some joe going, check on last night’s laundry and take out something to thaw for dinner. Nothing out of the ordinary. It must be said I thrive on routine. I’m walking around in my own world for a moment. It takes me a moment for me to fully coherent in the mornings.
As I’m meandering around, I start to hear a sound. A might loud one. I think I must be hearing things or delusional. A few minutes later, the sound is back. I try to disregard it. It goes away. I go off to start the coffee, and hear we go again. I abandon the thought of coffee making. I go around the kitchen in a tizzy. I’m seeking that noise like a honing beacon. I walk in to the laundry room. The washer isn’t on. I check the pantry for a pesky rodent. Thankfully I don’t find one. I check the fridge out of sheer frustration. Maybe rotten cheese is playing tricks on me.
I go to sweep up the house. Farm living means once a week vacuuming doesn’t do the trick. As I’m sweeping the noise is my neighbor. I just give up. I’m on edge. No tea kettle is whistling. And I’m in the process of wondering what is taunting me. My mom then decides to come in the house. I relay this morning’s adventures. I ask her if she knows the origin of this noise.
Without hesitation she says: “my crickets”. Your crickets, I say. She shows me what she has them in, and now I don’t know what to feel. Relief that I’m not going insane. Crazy that a cricket can drive me wild. Mom says I couldn’t let my crickets get hot. Pet parent of the year. Now I laugh. Farm life keeps you grounded while making you laugh.
Enjoy your Sunday, and find the little miracles
Relish the quiet
May the outward break
Will be one
For your body
I’m giving
What you’re not
Getting
Sit
That’s it
Sit
Lord,
I’m aiming for
The still
Small voice
Revel in eccentricity
The odd ones
Change the world
Instead of becoming
Changed
Refine
Clarify
And give me
Strength
To remain
As I am
Until
The change
I undergo
Is at
Your Hands
Thank you to one of my new friends who is teaching me to love me. You know who you are.
What is making you happy today?
What healthy snacks or meals are you making?
What are you reading?
Any purchases that brought joy?
Whose blog do you always visit?
Thank you for all your love and support after yesterday’s post. I’ve reread it, and I’ve laid all my burdens out. I’ve laid the shame so that the world can see. Yet it taught me something. As much as I feel alone sometimes, I’m not. I guess its not so normal to put some of your innermost struggles for all to see. This morning a friend text me to ask how my spirit was. I’ve never felt so seen. She got it. My spirit needs living water.
I was reminded that He loves me. Because He loves me. He desires His best for me. I’m just not a patient child. I want that candy now. I want that reward now. Faithful in small things leads to more. More of what I want. Lord, it all comes down to The Serenity Prayer. It all comes down to You. I’m not in control. The world says I am. You say no ma’am. Life teaches me how wrong the world is.
My road to healing is going to take time. I can’t make it happen overnight. I come back to the hymn of trust and obey. The first is hard. The latter is more of a struggle. I don’t know why, but honestly I don’t have the words to explain it.
So right now my joy for today is that I’m here to write. I’m here to continue the work that He has for me. And I’m grateful for people who give me the desire to go on this journey.
Lord,
Sometimes it’s so hard. To be happy for others. To cheer them on. It feels like years of waiting. Help me find joy in the waiting. Help me be happy for others. I don’t know what to ask anymore. I know that as much as I can hope life were different. It isn’t. Help me accept my reality. Help me be joyful. Because I’m not. It’s exhausting. Letting you see this. Letting you see there is nothing perfect in me. There is nothing easy. Not everything shimmers in gold every day. Letting it all out before it eats at me. If this is too depressing, skip this post. Some days are just rougher than others. Some days I try to put a smile on my face. It’s a choice made even if it is not felt.
So Lord, remove the bitterness from my soul. I have too many blessings. Remind me that no tear, no disappointment is ever wasted. I only pray that what you have for me is so beyond the wildest dreams I’ve ever had.
Waiting in
The valley
Is not
A pleasant place
But if
That is
Where I’m
To remain
Right now
Love me
Well enough
That I
Lack for
No thing
Love me
Even if
I find
It hard
To love
Others
Or myself
Going back
To saying
I love me
In the bathroom mirror
Repeat after me
I love self
Enough
To not settle
For second best
Crumbs
Because
I was to impatient
To trust
The Creator
On the beach
As I scan my view
The high rise
Behind me
The turquoise waters
In front
As I lather
SPF
And shake
My head
That for today
My reality
Is utterly glorious
God
What you made
Is making me
Very happy
And for that
I say thanks
With grateful appreciation
Heard the Dan and Shay song Bigger Houses this morning. It’s slowly becoming a favorite, if only to hear my favorite lyric. Something to effect or learning that happiness isn’t always found in bigger houses. I used to believe the what if’s. If I wasn’t born with CP, life would be easier. Now, as I look on it, I’m not so sure. I wanted the fairytale that most girls dream of. Now I realize fairytales don’t exist in real life. We want them so bad we write books to give ourselves the illusion of what we want.
I bought a shirt in the Georgetown, DC neighborhood that says not broken. It’s from Bitty and Beau’s. Please look them up. Being in there at first was uncomfortable. Just being honest. Then I realized these were my people. They loved working. They loved being helpful. They loved life. And frankly the twenty five dollars I spent that day, I more than got my return on investment. Literally and figuratively. I wear it whenever I have a bad day, or just need to smile.
A physical and emotional memory I don’t want to forget. So when I want the finer things, I remember that day when a t-shirt and peppermint bar brought delight to a face that hadn’t seen in too long. Do I still have days where I wonder what could have been. You bet. Won’t lie. I’m just trying to have more days with genuine happiness and where there are no questions that need asking.
Some thoughts
Need some rain. Heat index to 107 degrees. Lord, make it happen.
Online shopping is my jam right now.
Sitting Indian style while I work is a new joy.
The dirt underneath my feet makes me happy
As you get older, you will change. Your hopes, your dreams. Maybe expectations.
Everyday I read for pleasure. Pick up a book, put down the internet
Looking out the window
My soul smiles
My body dances
My world is rosy
Because following
The heart
Has been
The medicine
For the ailment
Plaguing me
I’m eccentric
I admit it
Give me Yo-Yo Ma
Over the latest beats
Give me my sister’s cooking
Over fast food
Give me long dresses
To being scantily clad
Give me a nice wine
Or Perrier
Over pop
And my mouth
Waters in anticipation
Love your now
Appreciate it
Grateful is
The best perfume
While I await
The dreams
Of the deepest realms
To sit
Until ready
To show
Its face
In the land
Of the free
And the home
Of the brave
Under the flag
Of the red
White and
Blue
So honor
Those
That make us
Truly beautiful
And blessed
God,
I took rest for granted until it’s the only thing that would fix the problem. Sometimes trying to fit into the box is more harmful than anticipated. I actually attempted to meditate. Lasted five minutes. Letting my breath be the only thing I hear was more challenging. Being still with myself was harder than I thought. I did it. Pumping the brakes is what I need. Not what I’d want. Needs are eclipsing wants these days. It’s a wonder anxiety lifts when we listen to what our bodies are not so silently telling us.
Eating a slice of thin crust supreme pizza, reading a good book or checking out a good sale is bringing me joy today. Joy isn’t manufactured. It’s created in the moments we don’t realize are special. Fairy tales are nice, but reality is where I reside. It’s in the dog’s whimpers and cries to go explore. It’s in the country song that rattles my cage. Those lyrics are too darn true for my liking. It’s in my two dollar Old Navy flip flops covered in grass stains already. It’s in my twenty year old watch that still tells time.
So today, I will eat cut up watermelon, spit the seeds and let summer simplicity be my guide. The season of heat isn’t teaching when to strike. When to sit. When to savor. When to relish the taste of a refreshing popsicle after hours in the chlorine.
Here’s to pop ups, fireworks and independence from our own minds. Mine needs a hiatus. Love the life you live. It’s the one chosen for you to enjoy.
God,
Grant me peace
Serenity
A desire
To look inward
Not want
What the world
Tries to sell
Don’t react
Live in harmony
With self
And find
That what
I want
Isn’t anything
That I can hold
Yet holds me
Let me not
Become an explosion
Upon detonation
But a calm presence
In the storm
As I was stretching this morning, i came to a few conclusions. My mind and body are not where I’d like them to be. My mind and body needing watering and pruning daily. Missing a day is not optional. I’ve striving too much for an answer. Would I like God to just deliver like Domino’s Pizza. I sure would. It doesn’t happen that way. What if there was a satisfaction guarantee for those who wait. My therapist suggested that instead of worrying about what I write, just write. Write because it makes you happy. Write because the frustration has somewhere to go. Write because it’s what you do.
The point is to have fun. Even if the finished product is crappy. The fact is you didn’t delete your thoughts. You let them stand. It is proof that what is shared is your heart. Raw and unfiltered. You’re job as a writer isn’t to paint a picture full of rosy fluff, but truth that isn’t crude or rude. It’s as honest as you can be without revealing your innermost fears. The ones you share with God and me.
I need you to see that glass houses can only shield us for so long. The lies we tell ourselves will shatter faster than the cup that slips from fingertips. Growth is that acknowledging that acceptance is a daily activity. Acceptance isn’t a permanent gift, but a daily practice that is practiced daily. Acceptance isn’t finding or placing blame. It’s a learning curve.
Life is not mastered or something to be mastered. Life isn’t a game to win. Life is what it is. It is a process of gratitude for opening eyeballs to start the journey once again.
So honestly, I’m writing right now to keep putting words to paper, and let them sit there. Whether I like what I’ve written. Writing to restore joy to creating what is in this hard head.
