The box kite

In my second year of art school I had to take a 3d Modeling class. For our final project we were tasked with building a kite. We each picked what type of kite we wanted to build. From the start I felt overwhelmed. I went to a hardware store to purchase dowels, tubing, wood glue and string. I used garbage bags which I measured, cut and used to build a box kite. I painted it and the next week the class met at the beach. My kite had to fly in order to get a good grade for that project. Nobody had tested their kites up until this point. I was skeptical and doubtful. Suddenly, was time to fly my kite. One person held the kite as I ran full speed down the beach away from them. I turned and watched as my kite that I had built all on my own started to take flight. I was in disbelief as it soared into the sky. All that hard work paid off and I was so proud. Why had I ever doubted myself? 

It's easier to say "I can't" and never try than to say "I can" and put in the work. If you never try, you won't realize what you're truly capable of achieving. 

I passed the class. 

Dyslexia: My father's story.

I wanted to write about challenges that we face in our daily lives. Some people face daily challenges in life that others can't see and don't know exist. For example let's talk about my father. See, he was dyslexic and, as a result, never learned how to read. 

My father grew up in a time where dyslexia was not well known. Often struggling in school he was made fun of and called stupid by his peers. The teachers said he was a slow learner. Eventually, the frustration and humiliation was too much for him. He ended up dropping out of school in the 8th grade. 

My father became an adult and eventually discovered that he wasn't a "slow learner." He was diagnosed with dyslexia. See, dyslexia does not mean low intelligence. Some of the most brilliant minds are believed to have had dyslexia such as Winston Churchill, Alexander Graham Bell, John Lennon, Thomas Edison and Albert Einstein. Although my father learned later in life that he was dyslexic, it was too late for him. He never learned how to read. Dyslexia is called a "unique and gifted mindset" in which the dyslexic learns different than others. 

My father lived around his dyslexia. Only close family knew his secret. I didn't even learn about it until around age 10. Even back then I couldn't fully comprehend the challenges he faced. My mother would read his bills to him. He would ask me for assistance as well. Over the years he would ask me how to spell words like "water." I remember as a child I would give him a birthday card. He would open it up and pretend to read it then smile and say "that's nice honey." After I learned this, I watched him repeat this routine with others who weren't aware that he couldn't read. I remember one time we were at a friend's house. Someone handed him a Christmas card. He proceeded to open the card and someone yelled "read it out loud!" I sprang up from the couch I was sitting on and said "I'll read it" and grabbed the card from him. I read it out loud for all of them to hear and they were none the wiser. 

My father's dyslexia actually gave him an uncanny ability to solve puzzles. It's proven that people who are dyslexic have this ability. Rubik's Cube was no match for my father. I remember how as a child I would get mad that he could solve puzzles so fast. I had received an electronic puzzle game for Christmas only to find out the next day that he had already beaten the game. Dyslexic people are known to be masters of their crafts. This too was true in that my father was known as an excellent mechanic. Definitely above average in his work. 

My father faced daily challenges. Have you ever thought about the pictures at fast food drive thrus? A picture of a hamburger and fries with a number at the top..."I'll have a number 1 please." That is a language that even people like my father could understand. He couldn't read, but could look at the pictures and communicate what he wanted. 

I had genetic testing done some time ago. I carry the genetic mutation for dyslexia. Dyslexia runs in families. In my case however, the gene did not "kick in" and I am not dyslexic, but have dyscalculia instead. 

When my father became terminally ill I went to see him. I overheard someone complaining about his cell phone and walked over to them. "I can't contact anyone! Your father doesn't put peoples names in his phone...only their numbers...he MEMORIZES the numbers." I laughed silently to myself at her frustration. "That's my father" I replied. 

Don't let life pass you by.

Time will heal you.

Why would you stay in a situation where you are not happy? Why would you choose to exist rather than live?

Don't wake up one day and realize that you wasted years of your life. Don't stay in a relationship with someone who doesn't care about your well being. You deserve to be happy. Change is hard and it's scary...believe me I know. It's difficult to imagine life being alone again and doing things by yourself. There may be tears and you will feel overwhelmed at first. Once you rip the band aid off things will get better. Time will heal you and you will discover yourself again.  

Trust the timing of your life

Life is about timing and timing is everything in love and loss.

Look beyond the obvious.

Try to understand that there is more to life than what is in plain sight. It's more than the day in day out monotonous tasks. You have to look beyond the obvious and who knows just what you might find. That's life. 

Say what you mean and mean what you say.

I put a lot of value in words. 

 

Do not call me perfect...

Loving the alcoholic

A person will come into your life, steal a piece of your heart and leave. It's those people that we can never seem to fully get over. Memories play like a movie on late nights as you lie awake in bed. You miss them so much that you live for those memories. It is a curse. There are the "what ifs" and you continuously question every angle. It's madness. You cannot stop it because in every quiet moment to yourself...you can't help thinking of what could have been. 

He was a good guy who never felt good enough. It was pointless to tell him any different. Hell bent on destroying anything good...one day he gave up and reached for a bottle. He purposely lied to push others away. Nothing would or could change his self destructive behavior.  It was beyond anything that one could comprehend. He took a few people down with him. All the begging, crying and getting angry could not change it. They asked themselves how could this happen? How did this happen? He couldn't love himself and certainly wasn't capable of loving anyone else. 

Let me tell you this my friends...it's like a loved one dieing. A death. The death of someone you knew, adored, cherished and loved. It's like having the wind knocked out of you...a sucker punch. A devastating hurt that cuts so deep that it NEVER goes away.

Such is the life of an alcoholic...

You try to sabotage what's good because you don't feel worthy of good. You have spent countless hours convincing yourself that you are worthless. When someone sees the good you are quick to deflect and focus on the negative and you go into sabotage mode. You have a lot of unresolved hurt stemming from an event or events in your life. When you feel this hurt you drink it away. Just as a cutter would cut their wrist to release the pain, you use alcohol.  You are unhappy with yourself and you use humor as a mask and to deflect from the real issues. You will avoid talking about your deep seeded issues because the unresolved hurt is too painful to acknowledge and bring to the surface. You get so overwhelmed that you can feel you can barely function and you're running on fumes. You live in a cycle of drinking, avoiding your feelings and negativity. Your pain is slowly destroying your life. 

"Alcoholism is a well documented pathological reaction to unresolved grief."

- DAVID COOK, Psychosocial Issues in the Treatment of Alcoholism 

One day you'll make peace with your demons...

I want...

 

Why Waffle House was the best job I ever had.

I'm no stranger to the corporate world. I work in the high stress, deadline driven legal field. These corporate jobs have their fair share of the daily "office politics," backstabbing and office drama. Often times I find myself thinking about a job that I had many years ago. 

In high school I worked as a waitress at my local Waffle House in a small town in Alabama. I went through training on how to properly call orders the Waffle House way. "Texas Cheesesteak Double Plate!" I would call out as the grill cook marked the plate. Ring up the customers, clean the table, run the dishes through the dishwasher, greet the customers, set the tables, take the orders, call the orders, deliver the orders and in between perform side work. The whole system was a well oiled machine. 

The Waffle House patrons were a eclectic mix of regulars, truckers and others just passing through. Some came for coffee and to pass the time chatting with the staff. It was sort of a hub where people in the town would to meet up. A few of my regulars came up with nick names for me such as Tinkerbell which they eventually shorted to Tinker. "Heeeey Tinker!" I would hear as they filed in and sat down at the low bar to order their usual steak and eggs. 

Then there was third shift which was the all night shift. I worked third shift on Fridays and Saturdays. Although the all nighter was hard work, if you were fast, friendly and efficient you could make good tips. When the local bars closed Waffle House would fill up around 3:00 am wall to wall with drunk rowdy patrons. "Excuse me...can I get a sweet tea?" on of the guys asked. His friend leaned over "hey did you just call her sweetie?" and they roared with laughter. Then there was the infamous Try the Pie button the waitresses wore pinned to our uniforms. See, it was to promote our chocolate pie (which was very good by the way). I walked up to a booth and asked the group if I could start them off with something to drink. "I would like to try YOUR pie" a man who smelled heavily of alcohol exclaimed. I smiled at him and repeated the drink question. Patience is a virtue my friends and your patience will certainly be tested if you work as a waitress. Only the best waitresses handle those situations with grace and a smile. 

Working at Waffle House taught me a lot about hard work and life in general. I learned how to work fast under pressure, problem solve and how to provide great customer service. More importantly, I met many interesting people with stories to tell and advice to give to me. I will never forget the laughs and the stories we all shared. Over time the friendly faces I saw from day to day felt like family. My coworkers worked and got along with each other. It was truly a team atmosphere. My boss was a great guy and he was fair to us. Somehow it all worked. I truly enjoyed my time as a Waffle House waitress. I was lucky to have such a positive experience. Overall, working at Waffle House was the best, most fulfilling job I ever had. Good times. 

What is love?

“It takes courage to love, but pain through love is the purifying fire which those who love generously know. We all know people who are so much afraid of pain that they shut themselves up like clams in a shell and, giving out nothing, receive nothing and therefore shrink until life is a mere living death.” 

~ Eleanor Roosevelt

Take control of your life and face your fears!

Are you letting fear control you, your emotions or even your life? I certainly have been guilty of it. Fear causes us to react in ways that are self harming to our quality of life. 

 

I have a friend who is so scared of letting someone love him that he will purposely at any cost use whatever words or actions necessary to keep love away. He has not learned to love without expectation. He has a fear of change and these fears simply cannot and will not lead to an overall happy life. He does not love himself so how can he possibly be capable of loving someone else? Like a broken record he plays the "I'm not good enough" record over and over in his mind. He has been living in a dark place for a long time and playing that record over and over...and believes it.  He has worked very hard to make himself believe he is not worthy of his own happiness. He has spent years building a wall...a fortress around him that prevents light and love from reaching him.  He has placed himself in a deep, dark pit and sits in solitude. At times he puts on a mask and ventures out only to save face so that he may keep up the façade that he is happy. They do not know the real him and he is ok with it. He gets up, goes to work and on weekends drinks himself into oblivion to numb any feelings he may have...whether they are good or bad.  See, on a Monday he is a self proclaimed "fall down drunk alcoholic" and by the weekend he is saying "it's not that bad." It is a sad, lonely existence indeed and he thinks he deserves it.

 

So many let fear stop them from achieving love, success and personal goals in their lives.  Face your fears head on because you are worth it. Do not spend your life trying to live up to others expectations of who they feel you should be. Stop playing the "I'm not good enough" record and get up, get out and find yourself. Carve your own path out and follow your instincts. Face those fears and maybe you will find that they are not so scary and intimidating after all. Learn to love the wonderful person that you are and let love into your heart. Take control of your life, stop making excuses and face your fears!  

 

   

A beautiful life

You will see how truly beautiful this life is if you learn to love yourself. It can change in the way you see the world. It is a journey of self discovery. Believe in yourself and start that journey today.  

Lost souls trying to find their way

I want to ask that you stay humble. Be patient with those trying to find their way. Always leave a guiding light in your heart on for them. Anticipate that they will find their way home through the storm...eventually.  Remember that you too were once lost and struggling to keep your head above water in an seemingly endless sea.  Never give up on them.

- Peace for the Tortured Soul

Hitting rock bottom and climbing your way to the top

There you lay at the bottom of a deep, dark pit of despair.  You have never felt so down and so low.  This is it... you have hit "rock bottom." You know that this is IT. There comes a time when those who are struggling find themselves at what society calls rock bottom. Years of depression, struggles, traumatic events...they all have potential to drag you into that deep, dark pit. Then before you know it there you are at the lowest point in your life.

Now as bleak as this sounds some do not make it out.  You have two sides to the story.  Those who hit rock bottom sometimes choose an out.  That out is suicide.  Heartbreaking for those who lost their way. Then others who hit rock bottom choose life. What drives someone at the very edge to crawl their way out of a seemingly never ending pit? I can speak from personal experience and I will tell you what...the will to live. I can remember so clearly the feeling, that tiny voice inside me screaming. I did not know it at that time, but it was my soul crying out.

Why do some make it out and some not?  Perhaps there was a bigger plan for those dear souls. Can anyone really answer that question? All I can say is that I am here.  I AM ALIVE. When the chips were stacked against me I somehow made it. I have been to hell and back and from it learned empathy.

I feel that healing cannot start until you have hit that low. You have to live it and feel it and see it. You have to want to get out of that pit and never return to it again. Now the real work begins. Blood, sweat and tears. A journey into self discovery. Accept that you need guidance and seek out that guidance whether it be psychiatric help, group therapy, books, message boards, online communities or just telling a friend or family member how you feel. You may just happen to find yourself 14 years later writing a blog about your experiences of hitting rock bottom and finding your way to the top. 

Small victories and large defeats

I sit here
drunk now.
I am
a series of
small victories
and large defeats
and I am as
amazed
as any other
that
I have gotten
from there to
here
without committing murder
or being
murdered;
without
having ended up in the
madhouse.

as I drink alone
again tonight
my soul despite all the past
agony
thanks all the gods
who were not
there
for me
then.

-Charles Bukowski, The People Look Like Flowers at Last

You have to walk through the storm

Think about situations in your lifetime that have prepared you for who you are today. What has conditioned you for present day situations? Back then they may have had you asking "why?" or "why me?" You may have thought you were having bad luck and felt you were at a low point in your life, but somehow you made it through. Think about connecting the dots from the past. What people or situations were placed in your life path? How did those people and/or situations teach you lessons for future situations? 

 

You have to walk through the storm...

 

"Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.

And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You'll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.

And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about."

 

Haruki Murakami - Kafka on the Shore

Awakening, signs and self discovery

I was raised with no religion.  Growing up I did not have a belief system and I was ok with that because it was all that I knew. 

 

Initially, when I had my awakening it started with a series of events that happened over two years time.  At first I disregarded, made excuses and ignored certain signs. As time passed and certain people were being placed in my path I started to question a lot of things. By the end of the year I realized what the purpose was of all those people that randomly came into my life with similar messages.  This was no coincidence. 

 

Often when one is awakened it starts like a door has been cracked open.  Soon the door opens more and more and then you have a snowball effect.  The more the door opens the more you start to notice signs that you wouldn't have noticed otherwise.  This is what I mean when I say "awakening." Soon you feel like you are living life and thinking on a whole other level.  I call it the next level. 

 

I felt robbed at first...robbed of being not being able to see the world in such a new and beautiful light all these years.  The various people who came into my life planted a seed.  It was up to me to feed and water that seed.  At first, I was not ready as so many are.  Sometimes it can take years to fully become aware and accept that you are having an awakening. 

 

Recently, I spoke with an old friend and he explained that he was in a dead end relationship, depressed, having problems with high blood pressure and going down a path which he felt was leading to alcoholism. A visit to the dentist office ended with the dentist saying that he must be under a great deal of stress because he was grinding his teeth in his sleep.  Apparently grinding to the point that he needed a lot of dental work because of it.  He is what I would call a "people pleaser." He is full of kindness, empathy, love and helping others.  Often in his past he has encountered blood sucking opportunists who used him. He admits that he is kind and generous to a fault. He has been dating and living with a women who stifled his creative and eccentric nature.  To the extent that if she felt he was rambling and talking to much she would tell him to stop talking. She had suggested that if he met someone and wanted to have relations on the side he could.  She had crashed and totaled her car some years ago and had been driving his car since the accident.  He had brought up to her over the years that she needed to look for a new car, but she continued to drive his car.

 

Many years ago I knew him as a creative, free thinking individual.  Now he is shell of who he once was.  He is currently working on his self worth and his own awakening.  He thought he was ready to move forward and change.  He even went so far as to end his dead end relationship and guess what...within a few weeks she went out and purchased a new car.  Initially, his ex asked to stay with him for a month to have time to find her own apartment.  He agreed.  Now, she is still living in his apartment and he is staying in the second bedroom.  This is an example of having an awakening, but not yet being ready to accept it and change.  If you cannot be the change you wish to see then how can change happen? 

 

“When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready. The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back. A week is more than enough time for us to decide whether or not to accept our destiny.”

   
― Paulo Coelho, The Devil and Miss Prym