The Mountain and the Butterfly

I’m wanting to come to peace with myself again, but I keep taking issue with me.  I am inconsistent.  I want to be more fixed, more constant, but that’s not how I experience things.  To me every moment is its own situation with a complex feed of information that plays a part in what I’m thinking or feeling.  I can shift and change my perception to see any view point that is given.

With that kind of mutability, I can come across as inconsistent.  I am almost always misunderstood.  When I let it go unchecked, I can quickly lose my own perspective about things.  It can make it hard to see me through all the shape-shifting, like a dizzying carnival ride.

It makes it hard for me to answer questions, such as during interviews because I have to establish what level or perspective the person is speaking from in order to know how to answer the questions they asked as they intended it.  No doubt I can come across as air-headed, or maybe even a bit slow.  People think they’re being clear, but they aren’t aware of how many ways a single question can be taken.  My job then becomes about being a quick on-the-spot detective to deduce which way they mean it, while also thinking of an answer that fits that perspective.

Being aware of so many levels and perspectives, it takes me some time to understand for myself what it is that I truly feel and believe about something.  A long time.  A lot of talking, verbal processing.  It can be exhausting and frustrating.  It’s easy to get lost and sidetracked.

Living from a situational point-of-view means never being on autopilot.  I am not likely to give a cookie-cutter response and I cringe every time I do.  I’m taking into account things like the environment, the season, the time of day, recent events, my moods, other people’s moods, etc.

On top of all of this, I’m also very sensitive to energetics or the unseen influences of life.  I’ve also spent a great deal learning about distinguishing the different things I pick up and what they mean and where it’s coming from.  I am highly empathic, feeling other’s feelings and thoughts as if they are my own.  Which is another reason I can’t let myself go on autopilot, because I can quickly get mixed up with what is going on inside of me if I do.

A lot of hard work and discipline has gone into figuring myself out and pulling it together.  I’m able to easily be at peace with myself when I’m alone.  The difficulty comes when I try to be myself around others who misunderstand me and have very fixed ideas about how things should be and all the ways I’m wrong in how I am.  I start seeing their perspective and lose sight of my own, leading to me becoming unhappy.

So that’s why I say I’m wanting to come to peace with myself again, but this time I want to be able to stay in that place even while around others who misunderstand me.  It’s really, really, really hard for someone like me to do.  It’s like trying to wiggle your ears or do push-ups with your chin.

I’ve found that being in touch with my deeper feelings really helps a LOT.  But omg it takes a lot of work.  Some people are setup to easily be in touch with their deeper feelings, but they can be so serious and brooding that it takes a miracle to get them to lighten up.  Namely the fixed people that misunderstand me.  Which, in my effort to try to understand where they are coming from, is what led me to understanding what it was that I was missing in order to become a more whole and happy person.

I’ve learned a great deal from my haters.  Such as learning that I could stand to be a little bit more like them in order to round myself out and be on a little more even keel.  Just like they could stand to learn a little from me and not be such a Grumposaurus Rex.  Be a little more understanding, a little more flexible, a little more forgiving.

Currently, I’m married to my favorite Grumposaurus Rex.  He is one of the most fixed people I’ve ever met, but also the most willing of his kind to try to change and grow.  We are very aware of our differences, but we each have enough love for each other to do what it takes to figure us out.  Learning how to be with each other, while being ourselves in a way that is a win/win is our mission.

It’s definitely on my top 5 list of hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but it’s also on my top 5 list of best things I’ve ever done.  It’s along the lines of learning to love your enemy as you love yourself.  Or like how eagles mate, where they lock talons and start careening towards the ground and they don’t untangle until the deed is done.  It’s a little harrowing and not for the faint of heart.

But the rewards are beyond imagining.  It’s like scratching an itch you couldn’t reach, or receiving a tall glass of the tastiest water after being in the desert for days.  Those are the goals I go for, the ones that can’t be matched.

My luck is in having found an “enemy” who was just as willing and committed to work with his for both our greater good.  I have to say, it’s much more rewarding than any stupid romantic fairy-tale story I’ve ever been told.  Way sexier too.  🙂

So I’m currently working that invisible muscle in me to once again come to peace with my mutable, flexible nature despite my stand-still mountain of a husband.  My mimic nature wants to try and be as still as him, and that absolutely does not work for me.  He’s learning to come to peace with himself, as well as learning how to move a little more like I do without feeling like he’ll come unhinged inside.

It’s really working though.  It’s amazing to witness.  A frantic butterfly learning how to be more still and graceful, while a mountain learns how to get up and dance.

The Moment of Truth.

Recently while watching video clips of recent natural disasters, I felt something stirring in me.  Something deeper, almost forgotten.  Even bursting into tears, as if waking from a dream or snapping out of a spell.  The feeling reminding me more of how I used to experience the world as a child.

A feeling that I also experienced while standing in the middle of an office building as it shook during a 6.8 earthquake I was in back in 2001.  As the world around me slowed down, I felt myself become more conscious and insulated by a silent bubble, even though the crashing and banging of the quake was deafening.  I looked around me, taking in what was happening.  My thoughts running through me slowly like I was trying to run underwater.

An earthquake“, I thought.  “This is what it’s like to be in an earthquake.”  I remembered the training from earthquake drills and knew that I was supposed to get under my desk.  So I turned to do so, but I saw the desk warping up and down, looking like it might break in half.  Also my computer monitor was hopping assertively and aggressively across the desk like a pissed off bunny and I thought, “Fuck that.” and ran to the doorway frame which was also supposed to be a good place to go during a quake.

Two of my coworkers had the same thought, so there were three of us standing there, finding our own personal piece of the door frame to cling to.  But then I remembered that that particular doorway was not load bearing and therefore not really all that safe.  By that time, parts of the ceiling plaster had begun to fall and a collective decision was made to make a run for it.  The very thing the drills had said not to do, but I was damned if I was going to stand there and get buried alive.  At least moving towards the exit gave me a fighting chance of escaping.

That was my outward fight or flight response, but simultaneously there were plenty of still moments where deeper existential feelings came through.

“Oh wow.  This is intense.  How long is this going to go on.  It already feels like forever.  What if this is just the beginning and it gets stronger?  Omg.  I can’t imagine being in a quake like this in a place like China or India where the infrastructure isn’t as strong as here.  Omg.  For some people, this is what their last moments look like.  This could be my last moments.  I wonder if it hurts or if it’s over in an instant.”

The worst of all for me was being so far away from my son, who was 5 at the time and just down the road at a daycare.  My mom instinct kicked in so hard to protect him that I thought I was going to burn from the inside out and started crying because there was nothing I could do about it in the moment.  One of the two coworkers standing with me in the door frame yelled out, “My daughter!” which made me cry harder because at least I wasn’t alone in my feelings of being a scared mom and feeling helpless about the situation.  It was comforting in its own way.

We did all get out safe.  Our kids were all safe.  Everything was okay, but altered.

This wasn’t the first time I was in a natural disaster, or even the first time I thought it could be the end for me.  I’ve been in multiple hurricanes and even tornadoes.  The worst one of all was during a tornado warning (meaning funnel clouds had been spotted, otherwise it’s a tornado watch) that happened back when I worked for a supercenter department store.

We had gathered all of the customers to the center of the store as soon as they issued the warning, because it was the clothing section and the safest place to be.  From where I stood, I could see out the front doors of the building.  The sky started to take on a strange dark green color and people started to abandon their cars to run.

At first they started to run towards the supercenter for shelter, but then I saw them all stop as they looked up in horror, and then hauled ass in the opposite direction.  The noise of the storm got louder and Louder and LOUDER.  The customers went from giving us attitude and complaining, to silence, and then finally came a moment when none of us could deny that we were in big trouble and complete strangers grasped hands and each other and began falling to their knees, praying, wailing, crying.

The noise.  I can’t begin to describe the noise.  It was like a hundred freight trains trying to come through the ceiling of the building.  It drowned out all of the screaming and yelling.  It drowns out all of your own thoughts and gets under your skin until it feels like the tornado is happening inside of you.

I remember starting to buckle myself, thinking “please . . . please don’t let this be it.  Please don’t let this be where and when I die.  Not in a supercenter.”  But also, at that time, my son was just a baby and I didn’t want him to have to grow up without his mom.  I didn’t want to leave him alone in the world.

And then, just as it seemed that the roof was about to give, the sound began to decrease and then leave.  We all just stood their, stunned at what had just happened.  Later we found out from eye-witnesses that THREE funnel clouds had started to descend on top of the store.  Three tornadoes.  But they never fully touched down, they retracted and moved in the nick of time, leaving us completely physically unharmed.

But forever changed.  Which brings me back to now and all that is going on in the world.  In the moments in my life when I was brought face to face with death, never ever were my thoughts about how successful I had been at work or how much money I had.  Or about being offended by a person calling a transgender person a “he” instead of a “she”.  Or about people being gay, democrat or republican, Pakistani or Indian.  Or about illegal aliens.  Climate change.  Taxes.  Corporate America or the corrupt banking systems.

No.  Nothing that the world is currently focused on and bitching about, entered my mind.  Only how much I love both the people in my life as well as the people in the world.  Also, how much of my life I have wasted on stupid, stupid things that don’t really mean anything at all.

So I look at the level of disaster that is playing out all over the globe, and then I look at what everyone is focused on and bitching about and . . . well, it’s really upsetting, you know?  We’re better than this.

Blaming others, calling each other names, blowing each other up . . . it’s all an exercise in futility.  It’s all a waste of time and resources.  Does it really matter at this point why it’s all happening?  Do we really have any control over it?  Does it really matter who is right or wrong?  Or is it time to start accepting that it’s happening and drop the bullshit?  Maybe show a little bit of compassion once in a goddamn while and grow the fuck up.

I think if there’s one common ground between us, it’s that we see that things have headed south in a big way.  It’s happening.  Why are we not able to have real discussions out loud about what IS happening all around us, and as beings that are caring and cared for?  We aren’t all going to survive what is coming.  The focus shouldn’t be solely on survival.  We should also be making right the things we are able to make right.  We should come to peace with our own mortality so that we can focus on what ACTUALLY needs to be happening right now and not the mayhem that is currently playing out.

We do not control life or death.  Any control is an illusion.  We cannot and will not save everyone because it is not up to us.  It is not our decision.  If everyone could just shut the fuck up for two seconds and realize this, maybe we could all start moving towards coming to terms, as a collective, with what is happening and stop all this goddamn useless fighting and complaining like a bunch of spoiled children.

But even if not, even if that isn’t possible because everyone is too wrapped up in the drama, it’s okay.  It’s okay because ultimately nobody escapes it.  Whether it’s your own time or someone you love, nobody escapes having to face moments of truth.  The only choice or control you really have over something like death, is whether you face the reality of it before it comes for you or you let it take you kicking and screaming against your will.  One leads to peace, while the other is torture.  Heaven.  Or.  Hell.  Your choice.

Food Hangover

I’m trying to get more comfortable in expressing my feelings, so naturally I ate too much food last night in an act of self sabotage.  But the joke is on me because I’m going to make myself write something anyways.  Making a crappy post that I’m not proud of will be my punishment.

You know, it took me awhile to realize that when I say ‘feelings’, I actually mean body sensations.  As in, ‘how does my body feel’ about something vs what my emotional state is.  I can feel good about something, but be emotionally upset.

It took me awhile to make that distinction in me because the word feeling in the general populace is used to describe both things.  What would be the more accurate word for body feels?  Sense?  I sense something is . . . no, see that just doesn’t work.  That feels like it’s describing something other than what I’m experiencing.  I experience something deeper than sense.

But I lose that deeper sensitivity feeling sensation when I eat too much food and get full.  I always figured that was what was meant by the phrase ‘eating my feelings’, right?

And it works because it feels harder to get that deeper sense of things, but then I feel a little disconnected from my inner navigation system.  I feel un-grounded, ironically, because you would think eating a bunch of food would make a person feel more solid or grounded, but it does the opposite.  It becomes harder to know what I am really wanting to do.

If I can’t feel that deeper place and know what I really want to do, then I end up doing things that I didn’t really want to do and then I don’t feel so good about myself by the end of the day.  I feel kind of disappointed in myself, which could potentially lead me down a spiral path of shame if I don’t snap out of it and get back on track.

When I’m not in touch enough with my inner navigation, I then tend to over use logic and rational to do what I think I should be doing vs what I actually should be doing and that could lead me even further off track because logic and rational don’t historically give much weight to what the heart needs and wants which leads to its own kind of disasters down the road that I’ll have to clean up.

Having repeated this whole cycle enough times in my life to be sick of my own bullshit, I have come to have a more healthy respect for the proper role that feelings and sensations play in my life.  They are absolutely necessary and so I must be mindful about cultivating and giving them enough space in my life.

I know this intellectually, but it’s not something that comes naturally to me anymore and I have to work hard at it.  So I avoid it and do things like eat too much when I’m not looking.  Which means now I’m going to have to work twice as hard to get back in line.  I have to show myself just how important this actually is to me.  Ugh.

My next challenge is to not do anything that I’ll regret in this desensitized state.  Just play it cool and wait it out until the food has had time to leave my body.  Try to still make good decisions about my life as I wait until I’m no longer full of crap.

You know, it is easier to lie to myself in this state.  I’m more likely to accept something that isn’t true because all my resources are focused on what to do with the new shipment of pretzel sticks and tortilla chips.  “How is she expecting us to turn this into nutrients she can actually use?  What, does she think we’re miracle workers?  How about take a vitamin or eat a carrot once in awhile, Jenn!”

It’s harder to think, focus, care.  Desensitizing myself does distance me from feelings I don’t fully appreciate, but it equally distances me from the feelings that I do appreciate making it overall not worth it.  I know better than to do this, so I need to set it back straight.  Maybe go for a walk.  Do some chores.  Take a laxative.

 

Well.  That’s that for today.  Until next time!

Looking for the Middle Lane

I’m sitting here on the couch at 6 in the morning trying my best to not start complaining because that’s not who I am.  Not at heart anyways.  But it’s become something of a habit in the last year or so.  I’ve also been married for the last year, so who knows, maybe it’s related.

It’s been tough adjusting to a new country and being married.  I am the quintessential independent American woman.  Back home I know what the hell I’m doing and here nothing makes any sense to me.  I really wasn’t expecting such a huge culture difference between The Netherlands and America as I’ve experienced.  Well, Amsterdam is pretty cool, but that’s up north of me a few hours.

This far south it’s . . . uh . . . it’s a little back in time shall we say?  Some small town mentality, and also a bit too . . . uh . . slow.  Things that are experienced as simple and easy back home, get drawn and dragged out here like it’s a herculean task.

For example, last spring they brought in some dirt to do landscaping at the park we live by.  They brought in a little backhoe which slowly and carefully laid out large rectangle metal slabs onto the nice green grass of the park.  Ones like they lay over the road when they’re in the middle of road construction.  Maybe about 6 of them?  So a pretty large area.

Next came a big semi truck with a full load of dirt, backing into the actual park.  Then the backhoe slowly and meticulously began to unload the dirt, one shovel at a time onto the large metal slabs.  I can’t be sure, but I think there may have even been a second large truck full of dirt.  But anyways, after that the backhoe spent some time shaping the pile of dirt, riding up and climbing all over it.

At some point in this process, a neighbor complained about something (maybe the noise) and they stopped what they were doing and left for a few days.  So this alone took up nearly a week of time.

Once that was done, a group of people came to actually work on the landscaping in the park.  The place where the dirt was actually needed was on another side of the park completely (it’s a decent size park), so another small tractor-ish vehicle the size of a smart car would drive all of the way to the big pile of dirt and get a scoop and then drive all of the way back to the area they were working on.  Slowly back and forth, back and forth.

That was a day or two.  Then the pile sat there unused for awhile.  How long?  I’m not sure exactly, but long enough that the neighborhood kids started to play in it and we began to accept it as a new feature of the park.  It was weeks.

Then one day, a big loud truck showed up ready to take the dirt away again.  The little backhoe meticulously scooped shovel after shovel of dirt back into the trucks.  This took a little while because hardly any of the dirt pile had actually been used.

Finally, the backhoe switched it’s front tool and started to lift the metal slabs off the ground, taking chunks of ground with it.  Underneath revealed a huge patch of now dead grass, leaving me to wonder what the point of the metal slabs were in the first place.  Was it to protect the dirt from getting grass in it?  At any rate, that whole section of the park looked awful and I couldn’t really tell what they had done with the dirt they had used.

Back home, that same job would have taken a fraction of the people, been done in a few hours, and the park would have looked pristine and perfect.

If you take that difference and then apply it to multiple things that make up a person’s day, you start to get a sense of what kind of culture shock I’m dealing with.

I.need.speed.  O.O

Back home, pausing to cough put me two weeks behind at work.  Living at that level of efficiency and speed is an art form all in itself.  It was a challenge and one that I excelled at.  Well mostly.  If you don’t include the times I tripped and burned and crashed into a magnificent explosion of woopsy daisy.

There is zero room for error in that kind of life.  There is little to no room for feelings or appreciation of the things that really matter in life with that kind of lifestyle.  Everything is so rushed and a blur of events.  I swear a whole year would happen in a day it was that fast.  There’s very little time for reflection or stopping to understand what you’re doing it all for.

I mean major life events would happen in a person’s life, such as a parent dying, and a person would maybe take a day off.  Like that level of crazy fast.  Our schedules booked to bursting, sometimes being tripled booked for meetings, potentially hundreds of emails a day.  Somewhere in there you had to get the actual work done.  Taking care of family, running errands.  Go camping, to Disneyland, lay on the beach for a few days every year and then back to it.

It wasn’t uncommon for me to go two years with no vacation.  I would run 10-16 hours a day at full force for years.

God I miss it.

Not the burning out part.  It took me some time and a lot of mistakes, but I did learn how to manage that better so that I stayed healthy.  I started to make time for myself and for the things that really mattered to me because I saw just how fast life can pass you by without realizing it.

So I quit trying to climb the corporate ladder and was content with just helping the people I worked with.  Including reminders of what is really important in life when they themselves got too caught up in the hubbub of it all.  We are analysts, but don’t lose sight of the people behind the numbers, I would say.  It isn’t all about the bottom line.  I’m not saying neglect the bottom line, I’m just saying that isn’t all there is.

In that world, it doesn’t look good if you don’t steadily progress upwards.  Something is wrong with you if you don’t want to be a Manager, Director, VP.  Like you won’t work as hard or give your all.  And yet, I did.  I always do because that’s just who I am.  I don’t do it for the paycheck or for a title or to appear successful.  I do what I do because I do things with my whole heart, otherwise why bother doing it at all.

So I left for greener pastures.  I was so ready for a quieter life.  Ready for a different kind of life.  One where I could focus more on what was important to me personally.  So that’s more or less the reason I was willing to let it all go.

But then staring at that pile of dirt out of my window for weeks on end made me want to go a little Daffy Duck, screaming and bouncing around the room like a lunatic.  Questioning what I had done.  I CAN’T DO THIS PACE!

There must be an in-between, you know?  Fast enough to get the rush and clarity of mind, but slow enough to appreciate and enjoy it all.  That’s what I’m looking for.

Lucky for me, I have a husband who is all on board with me.  He’s coming from the other direction.  A life that is so slow paced that nothing really changes.  Nothing gets you charged or motivated to get moving and make a difference in the world.  It’s like living the life of a stoned sloth.  It’s nightmarish in its own way.

He’s been teaching me about his world and I’ve been teaching him about mine and we feel between the two of us, we’ll find that perfect balance.  As I learn to slow down, he’s learning how to speed up and we make adjustments as we go.  I feel like I’m trying to get a sleeping elephant up a flight of stairs and he feels like he’s trying to slow down a coked-up road runner.  Meep Meep.

Well it’s time to get to some other things, so I guess that’s it for this Early Morning writing.  Until next time!

A Self Prophecy That I’m Not Going To Run From

Do you remember those stories we had to read in school that were about prophecies that foretold certain events, and then the remainder of the story is somebody trying to stop the prophecy from coming about and then that ends up being what causes the prophecy to happen?  Well, I’ve had that theme showing up a lot for me lately and so I decided to stop and think about what that is maybe trying to tell me.

Wait, actually at first I was like, “Oh my god!  When are people going to figure out that trying to prevent something from happening makes it happen!  Jesus Christ!”  But then about the fourth time I heard myself saying that, I realized I may be missing the point.

So then I was wondering, “What things am I trying to prevent from happening in my life in the long term?”  What inner dialogues or stories do I say to myself that leads to the type of decisions I make?  I had two strong ones come up.  “I don’t want to look like a crazy person and I don’t want to be a dictator.”  Which I then immediately asked myself, ” . . . and what things am I doing to try and prevent that from happening?”

The response to that was also immediate like it had been sitting for days waiting for me to clue in on all the hits the universe had been throwing at me:  I repress my feelings and I also repress my self expression.

Now, I also do these things because I’m constantly being misunderstood.  I can see how me being myself could be misconstrued to be those things I don’t want to be.  But that’s not what is actually going on inside of me.  Do the people who misunderstand me ask me where I was actually coming from?  No.  They make assumptions.  They place their own feelings onto my actions and then try to make me answer for it.  What kind of nonsense is that?

However, not understanding that when I was younger, I thought the proper (only) response was to repress and make myself small and invisible in order to not upset or offend other people due to their misunderstanding of me.  In the process I made a point to always try to understand where others were actually coming from before I jumped to conclusions.

By doing this I came to understand the many different ways the same situation can be perceived by others.  I am aware of me and of there being others on the planet besides me.  So, in this struggle, there was in fact a gift for me.

But it’s time to come full circle.  Now that I understand what all the misunderstanding was about, it’s about time that I learn again how to express myself more wholly and less apologetically.

Which circles back round to what ‘prophecy’ am I trying to prevent from happening.  Instead of trying to prevent it from happening by not expressing myself at all (which you can see how bottling up self expression for a lifetime could lead to the very thing I fear), why don’t I lean into it a bit?  Why don’t I push myself to be more expressive, to be more emotional?

How about I consciously move towards those things, because they are things within me.  I am perfectly capable of being crazy and I’m perfectly capable of being overly-assertive.  But those are the shadow expressions of those things in me and that’s what will come out if I ignore them, if I try to pretend they aren’t there at all.

Whereas, if I practice and learn about those parts of me and give them expression (move towards confronting those parts of me instead of avoiding them), then I run a higher chance of giving those parts of myself a more positive and healthy expression.

You know?  Because there are always two sides to the coin.  Facing the ‘bad’ in me allows me the opportunity to see what ‘good’ way that same thing can be expressed if I work with it.  Then I won’t be running from myself.  I will actually be coming more to peace with myself.  I’ll be more willing to check myself if I start to get out of control with it, than if I were to just ignore it and have it come out subconsciously and try to act like it’s not me at all.

So.  Let’s see where that goes.  And also, this helps me work on letting go of control, meaning, let people take me however they want to take me and learning how to handle that.  I feel that’s more healthy than just stuffing it all in and letting it be a crap shoot on what comes out at the most inconvenient times.

Not to mention there are people out there getting offended about EVERYTHING without a whole lot of thought about where a person was really coming from.  Like if ten people were to say the same “offensive” sentence, maybe only one of those people would be coming from a place that was actually mean or inconsiderate.

Like discernment people.  Things are not black and white.  Where was the person really coming from in terms of intention and feelings?  That is more important than the words being used.  We have to stop being so damn lazy about it and trying to ban all words and phrases that could be offensive if said by a jackass and just call out people actually being jackasses.  If you can’t tell the difference, then maybe you have some more growing up to do and you need to shut your pie hole until you can tell the difference.

Amiright? 😀

It’s Time To Get Right Within Ourselves

These last couple of weeks have been a bit of a wild ride out in the world.  I wonder what is going on, but at the same time there is a part of me that knows.  Knows, but hasn’t surfaced enough yet for me to remember it more clearly.

Even as a child, this part of me knew that adult me would experience all manner of natural disasters and earth changes.  Chaos that was unimaginable to little girl me, but that life would prepare for adult me to be able to handle.

And so here I sit, watching it become more visible in the physical world.  Things I have been dreaming about and receiving visions of my whole life.

I’ve never heard the word ‘unprecedented’ used so often for such a wide variety of things in such a short amount of time in all my life, as I have in the last week.  Hurricanes, wildfires, solar flares, radiation, earthquakes, volcanoes, etc.  One tripping along the heals of the other.

Everyone has their own idea of what they think is happening.  Climate change (whether man-made or otherwise), weather modification, pole-shift, ice age, Nibiru, the coming of Christ, cosmic rays, etc.

Some respond by prepping, preparing.  Others by trying to keep things going business as usual.  Others are praying, repenting, rationalizing, intellectualizing, denying, blaming.  Trying to cope as best as they know how for something of this magnitude.  Trying to regain some sense of control over their lives.

I do not feel fear about what is happening or coming.  This is something bigger than me, than us.  We do not have control over it.  It feels like that is something that we’ve forgotten over recent times, that we aren’t in control over everything.  We need this.  We need to be reminded that there is something greater than ourselves.

These things were always going to happen.  To see it as punishment or as something to be controlled, is to miss the greater wisdom of what is about to unfold.

Perfect in Our Imperfections

A part of being human is to learn and grow as you live your life.  We are never really the same person from moment to moment in the same way that you never step into the same river twice.

It’s only fair to judge someone based on the entirety of their journey, and that can only be seen at soul level.  And in the end we all get it right, we get it perfect for ourselves.  So all we are really seeing here on Earth are the steps it took for us to reach our perfection.

We can be there for each other’s journey, but no one can do another’s journey for them.  Let people be human, to make mistakes, including yourself.  Live and let live.