The Trifecta

I feel ambivalent this evening. Conflicted about the trifecta of today's American news. Today presented media framing that leaves me questioning how we call ourselves free in a democratic nation when we are bound and chained by the undercurrent of hypocrisy that lies just beneath the surface of our freedom.

Malala, Trayvon, and good old Texas. I don't even want to turn on the news this weekend because 60 minutes will do nothing more than regurgitate today's headlines; only this time they will have an hour to sugar coat it in instead of three different 60 second sound bytes. It boggles my mind how we view this news without it affecting us. Maybe some of us see the news and have become indifferent. Others, perhaps, unknowingly allow the negativity to slip beneath the mantle of their disposition and carry it with them through their days. Maybe others, I hope, can weed through the muck of the news to find a positive way to spin it within their mind and lives.

For me the day began with hearing how Texas is meddling in the private affairs of a woman and her uterus. Then a quick snap to Trayvon enticing viewers with possible closing arguments. You're welcome CNN for all the Neilson ratings you received vis a vie Trayvon. Then to wrap up my morning coffee, a supposed shot of hope by announcing Malala's 16th birthday.

Let me begin with Malala. I admire this girl greatly. However, it bothers me the way the media plays her as a card to bring up the hopes of viewers which have just been shocked by the harsh reality of what is going on right here in our own country. It saddens me that Malala is remembered for a day or for a two-minute clip on the morning news. Isn't she worth more than that? Isn't her struggle and strength deserving of a remembrance every day; here and abroad? Don't get me wrong, I passionately feel her story and can see how the media has brought her story to light allowing us a glimpse into other countries and cultures. In the same respect though, they muddy her essence and fight with their reporting. We take for granted the ease with which we pick up a book and fight over standardized testing when Malala and those she stands for cannot even walk to the freedom that is education.

Then there was Texas... What can I even begin to say about the fight women are having there?  Senator Wendy Davis did an amazing thing. I applaud her conviction and dedication. Yet instead of seeing the logic of Davis' filibuster, it has been demoted to a minor speed bump. The more pressing and all together dangerous question of the day was, which women were packing tampons. I cannot say I do not see the dark humor in that because I do. It is because I do that it bothers me so much. Roe v. Wade here comes Texas with their guns blazing, hide your tampons or you're likely to be shot on sight for hiding a concealed weapon. Is anyone else seeing the absurdity of such trivialities?

And lastly, Trayvon. A light extinguished. Social media, radio, television, and streaming media all shared in the trial. A whole year has gone by and this case is still unsettled. The eyes of Justice are blind they say but somehow I doubt that. Why else would Manslaughter have been slipped in as one of three possible verdicts? My opinion, because Justice is not blind. Justice sees and knows full well which state she is standing in. Justice knows which courtroom to be in. Justice is summoned along with the defendants and jurors. Justice knows full well Zimmerman might walk on 2nd Degree Murder. Sad isn't it, to know Justice already knows what is going to pass bar and what isn't. Is that perceptive of Justice or is it true she may not be quite so blind...

And now, here at the end of my evening I sit still reeling from the harsh reality of what we do to one another. What we choose to forget and what we still allow to continue. How after millenniums or eons, whichever school you prescribe to, we still have yet to just get it right? On paper it all sounds like a cakewalk but the reality is there is a lot of invisible ink that goes unseen between the neatly spaced and typeset rows of words that intend well. Days like today make me question why we haven't learned our lesson yet. How many more days must go by before we realize how fortunate and miraculous it is to be here with one another? How much longer will we continue to toss our dreams upon the waves only to have them dashed upon the shore of reality?

I sit here still ambivalent. The only progress I've made is writing this out and determining that the only purpose in all this senselessness is to find hope. Hope that justice will prevail. Hope that we don't set ourselves back centuries. Hope that a little girl can make it to school here and abroad. Hope that our dreams and intentions are able to one day be realized. Hope that we one day learn to live with love rather than fight with hatred. Hope that the news no longer has any negative stories to report on...

~DivineChaos

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com

Photo Credit: Jarek Kubicki

Love rambles

Hey there, It's me. I've been thinking....again. While muddling through the random thoughts that take up play space in my mind, I latched onto one that seemed to be seeking attention. I considered for a moment and then let my mind take flight with it. I wonder how many of us have contemplated love. I mean love in all forms not just unrequited love. How do you know it's love? Maybe what you have is just really some lukewarm, hazy rendition of what you think love ought to be. I don't know and who am I to judge outside of my own little personal bubble, right?

In my life I can say I know love in many, different forms. I am in love with my husband. My children, all quite different, I love immeasurably. Immediate family, I love indifferently. Friends, well to be honest I am not the friendy type even though I love people. I love writing in a way I cannot even describe other than to say when I am writing I am one with my thoughts, feelings, and words. I love animals too, have several in fact and love to smooch them and call them lovely self esteem building names like dandy dog and fabulous feline. I know, I can be a dork; call it part of my charm; I digress though.

I love electricity, thank you Tesla! I mean, I really am enamoured with it. How did people manage before its invention? In fact, I love it even more when there's a power outage. That second you hear every appliance whirring back to life is joyous. I feel like I just won a gold medal, like I have defeated the ghosts of centuries past who went without such luxuries. I also love warm coats on cold days, watermelon, card games, and when I catch the bus on time. I could go on, but I am sure you see where I am going with all this.

With all these different types of love how do you know it really is love? Maybe I don't even fully grasp the concept of love if I am using it in sentences to convey my feelings of a jacket on a cold day. Seems as if I am sort of making a mockery of the word, yet my spirit tells me, "Nope, you're right." If my spirit is telling me I am right then maybe my mind is over thinking this whole condition of love. Maybe the point is to understand and name the subtle variances and nuances in each degree of love. Of course, I could then start delegating out new words from Roget's Thesaurus to signify each level or aspect of love but quite honestly I don't have the want or convicton to do so.

So what I came up with in the end is that by having known the absence of love for a long measure in my life it has made me more critical and analytical of love and all its forms. This isn't a bad thing though. I am able to love things more fully now having gone without. I look at things, and by things I literally mean things, such as: a chair, a coin, a car, etc. and realize how much I love these things and the possibilities and opportunities they afford us. Crazy talk here, but I swear I can see past the thing and admire the essence of what it was and is and that I love.

I never thought I'd say it, feel it, or admit it but having lived the past I have I am able to love the present and the possibilities of the future. I love and am loved, in many ways by many people, places, and events. I waited a long time for it and searched even. Seems like when I stopped looking and started simply living, love found me. I couldn't express it any other way but to say I have been blessed by some Divine Force that sees me worthy of finally noting, giving, and receiving love. Love is a rambling weed that has taken over the garden of who I am and who I wish to become. I kind of like the wild and whimsical cottage garden that recognizes that the weed is simply a flower too looking for the sun and a bit of love.

I wish the same for you.

~DivineChaos

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com

Photo Credit: Andrei-Oprinca

 

Creep Lightly

It has occurred to me that the little girl I once was still occasionally wanders into my thoughts . Vaguely, almost ghost-like, subtly moving about just at the perimeter of my mind. Glimpses of her caught through peripheral vision. She is always gone from sight by the time I turn fully about. I've yet to figure out which corner or shadow she darts to. She haunts me with wild abandon, making her appearance when I least expect it. She plots with precision when she will drift by. She knows full well when I've forgotten her and devises brilliant entrances that shake the foundation of who I have become by reminding me of the past.

She's an eerie, little creature. Her eyes look too old for her face and beneath them are dark circles. Her limbs are gangly and wave akimbo drawing the eye to her slim build. Her hair once long enough to sit upon is now hacked short giving her a boyish feel. She never smiles widely, always a thin-lipped hint of a smile meant to hide the gap between her front teeth. Her knees have scratches upon them that never seem to go away. Scrubbing them at grandmother's behest with Chore Boy scrubbers never gets them quite white enough.

Sometimes when I stand near a window with blinds I feel her permeate and expand within me. Her hand rises to spread the blind slats apart. Leaning in she settles hazel eyes on the fading tail lights of a familiar car. They never diverge from the rear end of the car until it makes that left turn two blocks down the street. The hope that the car will make a turnabout quickly dissipates.  The slats snap back into place as she exhales a long sigh. Then as suddenly as she has entered she is gone, leaving me with nothing but a dark shroud of memories to reorganize and hide away. A tug of loneliness and a wave of questions emerge but I refuse to acknowledge them because they contradict the love one has for a parent, especially one no longer walking on Earth.

She is content to see me destroyed by self-doubt and self-loathing. I despise her and her story. I no longer welcome her here. No, now I push her out as quickly as my emotions will let me. I have removed the best of her in my aging, the dreams and plans but everything else I leave with her. She owns those wrongs and pain. The woman I am now has no place for anything from this creature's dark past. I am content alone.  Do not assume this means I am lonely; there is a distinct difference. No longer forced to draw stick figure friends upon the walls that love who I am and accept me for who I am not. They had no choice but to like their creator, they too were locked in the room with her. No escape. But those stick figures have long been painted over, the locks removed from all the doors.

No, this creature is not allowed in anymore. Not willingly. But the ding of a microwave summons her back in. Rushing to grab a TV dinner and sit upon the wood floors. Nose nearly touching the glass screen of the floor model television. The brown mush meant  to be a brownie eaten first as images of what a child's life is supposed to be like play across the screen. Boggled by the simplicity of their play written characters, I long for my  home to be with one of them.

The back door swings open, the creature's heart skips a beat. Scurrying around the parent's feet. There are no hugs straightaway, the doggie bag of liquor must be protected. Settled down with care not a drop will go undrunk. Those hazel eyes eagerly await the only bit of love she will receive this day. Unfortunately, the gin and tonic has dashed that chance away. Straggling back through the house, the button on the television is crossly turned off. The 12 steps to her room are longer this night, one hand slipping across the railing. Tossing herself on the bed, next to her pillow lays a book half read. Once more she escapes to an alternate universe, living her life through words. Hours later the familiar sound of latch and hook once more interrupt the reading of her book. Locked in again, for safety's sake.

I no longer allow this creature to reside in my mind, heart, and being yet she forces her way in anyhow. It has taken many years and countless visits to push the ethereal creature into the background. But today her visit is but a brief stay. I've taken a liking now to brighter days. And, this brightness seems to keep her at bay. But another day will rise and she will creep back through, trying her best my progress to undo. But this woman now has grown into her once gangly limbs, her mouth will break into a wide open grin. When dinner approaches many flock to her table, conversation is overflowing, no way she can be lonely.

It is a fine art this new woman the creature has become. The Art of Divine Chaos has begun.

~DivineChaos

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com

Photo Credit: Iskander1989

How Chaos Came to Be

It occurred to me that many may not understand the nom de plume I choose to write under, Divine Chaos. So, I figure I'll explain, it may offer insight into who I am and how I come to what you see posted within this blog.

A little over a decade ago, I started making major changes in my life. Some changes were intentional and deliberate others just happened. I began reflecting upon situations and people who made me feel some kind of way in my past. I began evaluating my behavior, actions, and parts I had played in my downfall. This was not a good time to know me-- I was a complete bish.

I grew up with little parenting, in fact, to say I received a little is being generous. For a long time I blamed my childhood on other areas of my life where things were not up to snuff. Once I was a bit older, and I use the world older loosely here; I was in a perpetual stage of anger. Anger at what I should have had as a child, anger at my lot in life, and anger at myself. The anger with myself was mostly because  I considered myself unworthy of those things I envied in other people and their families.

I went on living a life fueled by anger. I pushed good people out of my life because I labeled them as too good for me. I kept thugs, hustlers, and bad boys right up under my arm. See, this type of person is after the same thing you are-- acquaintance without ties and obligations. I searched for freedom through a lifestyle of dashes of liquor and long nights. It did not work, I was still questioning my existence.  In case you have yet to guess, I didn't get very far but I did my damn best to exhaust the use of anger. Finally, I gave in throwing my hands up and just saying, "Feck it all." For those contemplating a life of anger-- don't bother, it's highly overrated.

At some point I noticed I was not growing. I was an emotional child trapped in an adult body. So I did what I thought would save me- I dove into every religion I could trying to find out the purpose of life when you come from the place I had. To be quite honest, I learned a lot, however; none of it answered sufficiently my wish to find the purpose of, or rather, my purpose in life. I did use what I learned to re-evaluate many of my actions and life choices, so in many respects this soul-searching wasn't for naught. I also learned something I value highly to this day. Religion is not for me because truth has more than one door. I have opted for an eclectic mix of many teachings which make up my personal religion, better known as spirituality.

Once I quit putting my hopes in religion and books, questioning my childhood, and being someone I wasn't meant to be  and just began to try to see my life through the eyes of others; it dawned on me that my life was two things, divine and chaotic. The two complement and compete with one another. I realized that the idea of the perfect life was a fantasy. I decided I will be content with the life I  been given--one of divine chaos. I found that I could empathize with almost any book, movie, situation, or person due to my past. I could laugh and relate to the chaos and I could see the divine spark of intention and potential in myself and others.

I am a fractal. A fractal is a  curve or geometric figure, each part has the same statistical character as the whole. I began to realize that I am the essence behind the questioning voice in my head. That the sum of who I am is not greater than  parts of me, good or bad, that comprise my being. That up close, like a fractal, I look a hot, chaotic, mess but from above the whole picture is attained and my real beauty is seen.  So I accepted my lot because I can now, and because it is who I am.

So now, I have embraced both the Divine and the Chaos in my life. Please, do the same....

~Yours~

~DivineChaos

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com



Photo Credits: Nietzsche & Fractal

Declarations

It's the Fourth of July here in the states and already there are well wishers and those who've forgotten fireworks are technically best seen after dusk. I will not sit here and pretend that I have mused over the original 13 colonies and bald eagles. I did listen to a piece on UpWorthy narrated by Morgan Freeman. I learned that Jefferson had originally written into the draft of the Declaration of Independence a line on the moral depravity and human injustice of slavery. It was, of course, deleted. However, I found it intriguing to learn Jefferson, a slave-owning man, understood the injustice being perpetrated against a fellow-man because of his superfluous melatonin.

This left me thinking for a bit about how often we overlook prejudice and stereotypes still. Are we really free? How could one call himself free when still bound by the small-mindedness of perpetuating prejudice and stereotypes against others and himself?  It seems impossible to believe we have come so far yet we still have so much further to go. An endless journey of sorts it would seem. We impose stereotypes through media, through clothing, and through economics. Yes, some of us even use skin color to decide someone's worth or lack thereof.

I can recall times in the past three decades where America fell far short of its Declaration, worse yet I can recall when I have personally fallen short of the Declaration--Jefferson's and my own. Perhaps I should elaborate here. I believe we all have a personal declaration. It is created by our thoughts, morals, ethics, feelings, and actions. It may not be penned across a scroll of parchment and signed by our own immediate founding fathers, but it is written across our mind, heart, spirit, and soul. Some days we master the intent of our declaration and others we simply don't make rank.

I have been guilty of many things which enslaves not only others but myself in pain. No, I have not murdered anyone or anything near that caliber. What I mean is that I have said or not said, done or not done, and acted or not acted in ways that were untrue to my declaration and by no means upheld others'. I have many times allowed myself to fall victim to my tongue and thoughts and in doing so have damaged myself and others.

Somehow, I don't think I have always allowed myself to be free. In that way where one is not concerned with the opinions of others but is simply happy and free being exactly who they are. And that is where I am at today. Rethinking my freedom and personal declaration. Evaluating what is truly important and allows me to be free of the shackles of others judgements, stereotypes, and prejudices. I want those around me to accept me for who I am and who I am not and I want to be free to give them the same in return. I want to honor justice and fairness just like our forefathers with mercy and forgiveness. Most importantly I want to continue to proofread and edit when necessary. Isn't that what true independence is?

So today I  revisit declarations, those imposed upon me by birthplace and those I have written for myself. I will be off later to celebrate with fireworks the birth of this nation and the rebirth of my declaration. I will do my best to make sure that my actions align with how my personal declaration reads. I will carry the fanfare on after this day and I will keep an eraser in my pocket to make changes when needed.

Ha, No bald eagles here; the eraser will be my icon. What's your's?

~DivineChaos

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com

Photo Credit: Google

Impatience Be

Damn it, Impatience! You've done it again. Each day I think to myself I am going to be patient because when I am not patient I have a nasty attitude and get so easily frustrated that it makes me act out of character. This, I do not like.

To be quite frank, I am sick of you. I think it would serve us both well if you packed up your arsenal of things that make me impatient and move onto a person whose life and career is in need of such things. Perhaps, a Wall Street Broker? I don't care as long as you leave here.

I am ready to take back my mellow and work on my Zen. Toodles for now Impatience. Oh! There's no need to write or visit; I'll be too busy to play with you any longer.

~DivineChaos

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com

Photo Credit - Impatience by Ileana Hunter

Inspirational Blogger Award

I was meandering through the spam and fluff mail last night when I noticed an email from Anewwe saying s/he nominated me for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award. To say the least, I was flattered and stunned at the same time. I haven't been blogging on Wordpress for long, in fact, I just moved from Tumblr. I can say though that the nomination is appreciated as inspiring readers is one of my goals alongside simply being myself through penned chaos.

 So again, thank you Anewwe! And, Please check out Anewwe's blog!

 

7 Things about Me

 I adore the color green. Something about the subtle hues of a Paris Green to the chroma of an Emerald Green, regardless of tint or shade I simply cannot look anywhere without recognizing the color and its endless placement on Earth.

I am a coffee junkie. I am enamored with the scent of coffee and the way it ushers me from bed, clearing the haze. Hot or cold weather is of no consequence, I drink it year round. The one drawback is I am not an elitist coffee drinker. I've no need for Starbucks and the likes. Give me a Mr. Coffee coffeemaker and a pack of Folgers and I'm content.

I devour books. Reading has always been an escape of mine alongside writing. I love meeting new characters, spying on their lives, judging their actions, and living within their realm. Oh, and the convenience! To be able to take a book anywhere and prop it open and escape is a dream. The only thing that can damage it is the water but if you're a true book lover this matters little, you know a way to dry the book out. So different from technology based books, don't you think?

I am an INFJ. For those who don't know, an INFJ is the rarest personality type, affecting less than 1.5% of the world's total population. INFJs are Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, and Judging. INFJs are known as the protector.  I sit in good company with Gandhi who was also an INFJ. INFJs tend to be gentle, caring, complex, artistic and creative. They also value order and hidden meanings. Now, do not mistake the INFJ as a loner or shy because they most certainly are genuinely warm hearted with those they know and trust.

I have OCD. My OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) centers around order and symmetry. I like and need things to be aligned, symmetrical, and just so to feel at ease. When I see chairs out of place, crooked pictures, or messy houses I cringe and do one of two things fix it or walk away/leave if it is not my home. Further, I have what is known as GPS which falls under the OCD spectrum. Grammatical Pedantry Syndrome. Pedantry is common within OCD. In this, the sufferer must correct speech or fastidiously follow rules. Basically, I am a Grammar Nazi.

I watch the History Channel nearly every evening. I love learning about ancient civilizations and discoveries. Some of my favorite shows are: Brad Meltzer's Decoded, Ancient Aliens, and America's Book of Secrets. "Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it." ~Santayana

I love Willow Trees. I love weeping willows and it has been my long-standing dream to write a novel while under the fronds of the tree. There is something intrinsically romantic and relaxing about the Willow Tree that simply cannot be denied.Coincidentally, these trees happen to be gifted with green leaves, hehe.

Now for my 15 Nominations I'll say only this: I nominate them because their writing and creativity speak to me on a level above regurgitated ick and nonsensical fluff. So thank you nominees for giving me great blogs and authors to follow!

My 15 Nominees

 - Trinity -

Anonmigirl

Hurdles to Happiness

Poetry by Skull

Poetry on a Roll

Allmost relevant

Writings of a Mrs

Mostly Bright Ideas

Words Like Silk

Living Thoreauly

Script of Life

Typically Totally Me

Medicated Words

The Course of Our Seasons

Ironic Mom

Congrats to the nominees, and may you all experience penned chaos!

 

~DivineChaos

 

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com

Life's Fragility

Far too often I forget that I am actually a  fragile soul as are others. Society, life experience, and the world in general conspire to command strength. And, therein lies the eternal paradox. Of course no one wants to be so fragile they cannot stand life's slings. The truth is we want life and people to accept us without pity or drama. You won't always know how fragile you or another is, but know this, fragility lays within us all.

Maintaining a rough exterior to guard a fragile heart and soul can be exhausting. Though we walk on from the past hurts and pain, the ego will occasionally sneak up on you when you have your guard down and your fragility is exposed for all to see. For instance, when you feel discarded as a friend, or hear something unkind said about or to you, or even when a mere stranger cannot afford to look you in the eye. Truly it could be anything, we just forget that we were made to be fragile and strong at the same time.

What's the harm in being fragile? Well, nothing intrinsically, yet it can cause issues you later find yourself having to re-evaluate. Fragile souls tend to take things personally, more personally than any person should. This can lead to a fear of making friends or becoming cynical with those you come into contact with.The fear of being rejected, scorned, lied to, emotionally hurt, or judged firmly lodges fragility more deeply within the essence of a person. Many times, others have no clue just how fragile one might be.

We each go on about our day, forgetting to say hello and goodbye not realizing that may be the only greeting one gets that day. We forget to smile when that may be a gift to another. We forget to assume everyone is working with their best intentions.We forget that we've no true understanding of the other person and their struggles or life experiences.Quite simply, we forget to be human with each other.

We participate in typecasting each other, gossiping, judging, and putting on masks. This can only be for one of two reasons: we are fragile and must lift ourselves up at the expense of another or we refuse to see the fragility of another being.

It is time to own our fragility while taking responsibility for the fragile souls of those around us. How else will we ever evolve? Today, embrace fragility wholeheartedly in yourself, your family, your friends, society and the world at large. Then carry that embrace into each day, because we are all fragile on some level and will want a kind embrace.

~DivineChaos

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com

Displays

I saw this picture today while doing some picture surfing this morning. It is a picture from National Geographics 2013 Picture contest, still ongoing. It resonated with me in three deep, yet different ways.

Firstly, the grandeur and beauty is apparent. You simply can not miss it. Yet how often in our everyday lives do we allow our natural gifts to simply be what they are and display them? I am talking about display for no personal gain, simply being who we are and displaying it with no apologies. Without wondering who is staring at us or judging us. Without even knowing ourselves that we are displaying that divine spark which is the essence of who we are.

Secondly, how often do we as humans put on a display to mask the trueness of who we are due to fear of myriad things? We walk into a room with a grin painted across sanguine lips to belie our inner feelings of not being welcome of fitting in. We talk loudly to drown out the greatness of others which might somehow reveal our own inferiority. We talk loud to be the center of attention because we crave it.

Or the displays we put out into the world to make and keep friends? The displays to not be stigmatized by homosexuality, HIV, poverty, homelessness, lack of education, past abuses, mental and mood disorders, etc. The display to appear we have the happiest marriage and homelife?  The display we are better than our actions and choices.

Or how about, when we put on  display the list of issues in our lives in search of sympathy and pity? The parental displays of helicoptering where we pretend to be a parent we just simply cannot be every moment of the day? The display of apologies for our friends, families, and children when we feel they are being judged and by extension, us as well.

Other displays are familiar to us all. The person who won’t say no because they so want to be liked or wish to appear to be doing more than the next. The person who displays mock friendship yet waits with baited breath for you to leave.

Of course there are those who display for what appear to be selfless reasons but the display of them actually negates their good. Such as, how one is greener than the next or one is more zen than the next, and so on. The very display of what are good intentions many times are simply negated by verbalizing them.

Last but certainly not list, it made me consider what I want to display to myself, my husband, my children, my friends, my co workers, society, and the world. I won’t sit here and tell you I’ve now written out this fabulous list of my new displays but it has created an internal dialogue where I am considering what I do or do not wish to display each day. I think it’s an important conversation to have with one’s self and perhaps once I have a deeper handle on the displays I wish to show and those I wish to go, I won’t feel as though I am on display but rather displaying the me I am meant to be.

I want to get to a place where I and this world need not even know the word display. There will be no displays because we will have accepted the  strengths and weaknesses of ourselves and humanity. In that we display without knowledge and that my friend is a trait and ability worth striving towards. I think it will be worth the journey.

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com

Blessings Count

Many days I find myself asking why me? Being human I am prone to the same self-defeating attitudes as anyone else can be. But recently I have been doing some major soul searching. What I’ve found is several things.



Not everyone is going to like you
Not everyone who smiles at you is your friend
Those who gossip with you will gossip about you
Not everyone wants to see you succeed
You will not always succeed
The past is exactly where it needs to be
I can be anything and anyone I want despite the doubters
Habits are hard to break but totally worth it in the end
I am worth more than I and others sometimes give me credit for
I am far more richly blessed than I care to remember some days

Number 10 is the clincher though. I am richly blessed, Not in wealth, not in a voluminous number of friends, not by pure unbridled genius, but rather, in love, ability, intelligence, intention, dedication, determination,and perseverance.

I am going to make myself a special little jar after this post and everytime I feel down, discouraged, disliked, or unable I am going to jot down one reason I am richly blessed. I think I will leave my jar alone until I find the perfect time to open it. Not a holiday because I don’t want to tie this into some holiday ritual or tradition but maybe on my birthday or after a big life accomplishment.

Blessings are not religious, they are innately spiritual and they do count. So I am going to begin to fill my jar. Maybe you could make one too, my friends.

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com

Thankless

So I was sitting here thinking and it occurred to me that even though there are those I am weeding out of my life that there remain those who have been left unthanked.
Call to Action my friends!

Let's spend the next week considering 1-3 people who have helped us somehow but have gone unthanked and then thank them. Call, write, email, send a FB pic or post but just thank them. Then if you want or can remember too, just comment with a “done” or more if you like.

 

~DivineChaos

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com

Vulnerability

It has dawned on me that we must always re-evaluate our life, choices, and friends. Most importantly this must be done when we find ourself either complacent or miserable.

I am currently in the process of letting some things go such as habits and people.


For instance, one habit I am working on is being vulnerable. I have a fear of appearing weak when speaking about how I truly feel or if I’ve been hurt somehow.Somewhere in the back of my mind I have built up this notion that to let others see me cry, hurt, or feel vulnerable is a contradiction of strength.


This summer this is the one habit I am working the hardest on overcoming. I've realized it’s quite alright to give up my former thoughts on what strength appears to be.

~DivineChaos

© Copyright 2013, Copyrighted.com

Meh

Lately it has dawned on me that despite my best intentions I have fallen short in being patient and kind. I allow small things to disturb my peace and far too often I allow the actions or inactions of others to hurt my feelings. In an attempt to appear strong and unfettered I display anger instead of the tears I am fighting back.

I’ve decided my biggest self project right now is to let go of the need to hide my emotions in an attempt to appear strong. Those who love me will understand that I am human and WAY more sensitive then I let on to be. So my summer project is to step up to the plate and be true to my feelings and be honest with myself and others if I am hurt or upset. If I lose or gain friends in the process it is what it is. I can live with that.

Those who matter won't mind and those who mind don't matter. Thanks Dr. Seuss!

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God laughs

I have heard it said that, “If you wish to make God laugh, tell him your plans.”

I distinctly heard a low rumbling which then turned into a full belly laugh disguised as thunder just before the power went off at 11:15 pm. This was met by a sudden onset of screaming by panicked (and over-reacting) children. This was, of course, met by sighs, huffs, and colorful expletives on my end.

If a tree falls in the woods....

I spent this week at my new job, getting acclimated with my tasks and responsibilities, which since I work at the same school I attend and this is the summer, means getting more familiar -if that’s even possible- with facebook and twitter. In fact, I became so ridiculously bored with both of these social venues that I decided to hit the library. (I love how conveinant working on a college campus is.)

I have been debating dropping my psych class for  a philosophy class. This in turn led to me making the clearly intelligent choice of checking out to many books on philosophy to see if it was truly as interesting as I think it might be. So, now I have a stack of books staring me in the face and I intend to devour these all by Monday. I am ambitious, yes?

I have it in my head that the digestion of more philosophy and ethics can only aid me in becoming not only intellectually smarter but also emotionally and consciously smarter. Well, at least I am hoping this happens. In reality I will probably just stare at the stack some time tomorrow night and realize I am more equipped to draw out a list on why I do not have the time to read these.

If my next post sounds slightly more universal and carries more awareness you may assume that I have read them….or at least skimmed them!

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Morning Already?

So another day is upon me.  I lay in bed for a few moments enjoying that hazy space between want to get up and have to get up. My miniature tiger lay perched over my right shoulder, sending a gentle vibrational hum through my frame. The television I fall asleep to is still on and pushing snippets of the early morning news into my mind. I am not completely coherent.  I don’t want to be coherent yet. I want to lie in bed and enjoy the fog that precedes full cognizance.

And It Begins...

So, I have been putzing about Tumblr for awhile now. My original intention was to of course begin a blog however, every time I attempted to begin a post I would second guess myself and my ideas and just head on back to my {safe} Facebook page. Well virtual Tumblr world, I am here and to my amazement {finally!} this blank white text box is being violated with my intention via words written in a classic font.