Faith: It’s What You Put Into It

I was feeling a bit down this morning because of things like a perpetually-tight bank account and some body aches and pains that just didn’t seem to want to go away. Of course I told myself to have faith that this crap won’t last forever, followed by the thought that I just needed to keep working towards my goals despite feeling like I’ve gone ten rounds with Godzilla and lost. Then I had this thought: Faith is what you put into it.

My grandmother used to say you either had faith your didn’t, no two ways about it. For a while I didn’t quite agree with that as I thought it didn’t take into account the gray areas of life. I still see those gray areas, but I also see there aren’t many of them. I’m beginning to think that gray areas are mostly indecision, fear, along with pessimism and cynicism where there shouldn’t be.

I want to do better in my life, and I know that I have to work for that. I just can’t curl up in bed and sleep it off like I want to. And by the way, I’m feeling better now that I’m working on this and have gotten up and moved a little. But understand that I’m NOT saying that just getting up and moving is a be-all-end-all solution, either. Those absolute solutions don’t exist at all but faith in finding a way to solve problems does, and that does take into account those times when you just have to sleep it off.

So faith is not only the effort you put into it, but not being too hard on yourself either. Temper that faith with kindness and generate hope and optimism, but keep the cynicism going because there are people and things in the world that deserve to be called out for their stupidity and bullshit.

But as I’ve thought about this idea this morning I’ve begun to realize this is a part of that ‘breaking radio silence’ thing I’ve got going on. In fact, I think I might have found the sub-title for the book with this ‘faith is what you put into it’. The subtitle I’m considering is ‘finding faith in myself through the past and present for the future’ (a bit wordy but worth considering).

This is definitely something I’ll be thinking on for quite a while so stay tuned.

What Does My Stuff Say About Me?

Earlier, I made a comment elsewhere (www.facebook/superubergirl) about people and the types of cars they drive, specifically big pickup trucks and SUV’s. A lot of those drivers are jerks behind the wheel and I always say they have to be compensating for something, or a lack of something.

But it got me thinking about what my stuff might be saying about me? For the most part I think my stuff, and lack of, would say that I’m a poor slob who’s an idiot. I am a poor slob but if someone thinks I’m an idiot just based on my stuff (or lack of stuff), then they’re the idiot. Because here’s what I think my stuff, and lack of, really says about me:

My car: It’s a bright-red 2015 Ford Focus. For me, it’s about driving something that’s good on gas but roomy enough for people and their luggage. It’s also about having a little fun because of the color and size. Also, I like to think it means that I don’t need a ton of car around me on the road. I don’t feel the need to drive some huge-ass urban tank (as I like to call big SUV’s and pickup trucks). We don’t live in a war-zone and I don’t need that much space for people and stuff. I know I probably shouldn’t judge people who drive big vehicles but in reality I have to wonder how much of that space gets used on a regular basis. Because if it’s sitting empty most of them while that monster-truck wannabe burns enough gas to eat some atmosphere, then I think it’s a severe depreciation of value.

Lack of stuff: Right now, I only have my clothes, a few odds and ends, and my pets’ stuff with me and in storage just boxes of books, photos, and a few pieces of furniture. When I had an apartment full of stuff, I wanted to get rid of it all. Granted, a lot of it was way past its’ prime but even then, I still wanted it gone. For me, stuff seems to grow like kudzu and be an invasive species that wants to take over my space. Maybe some day I’ll feel differently but right now, any type of clutter or being in a place where I can bump into things makes me want to turn tail and run.

I won’t tell someone how to live or how to have a relationship with stuff. But for me, being without a lot of things hasn’t hurt me. I know that everyone can’t live like this either, and I didn’t know if I could until I had to but I’ve decided I like it. A lot. So much so I’m not sure if I’ll ever acquire a lot of stuff again. This is also why I do keep the idea of living in a box on wheels in mind because a small space like that would prevent clutter.

Because for me, I’ve come to realize that I want space and freedom more than a house (or apartment) with stuff again. I’m not ruling out the possibility of ever settling down again but right now, I don’t see that happening. I’d like the financial security that comes with a job and a place to only pay for once a month. But I sure as heck don’t miss the clutter and always-rising cost of living associated with that, either. Maybe I’ll figure out how to live in a set space without letting stuff-clutter grow like kudzu someday. And maybe I won’t. But most of all, no matter what happens with or without my stuff, I’ll always try to find a way to be happy.

Happy Endings

When I told my father I wanted to write romance novels he said, “Good. The world needs happy endings.”

I believe this is true now more than ever because seeing a happy ending, like Prince Harry’s wedding to Meghan Markle today, is a reminder that there is good in this world. It’s love triumphing over hate, over pain and suffering, and cynicism and indifference. And it’s a reminder that no matter what happens in life, it will go on.

The eternal optimist in me has never given up completely on life. Yeah, I can get down, and pissy, and flat-out mad as hell sometimes, but in the end I know and passionately believe love will triumph over hate. So when people put down romance and happily ever after’s, whether in fiction or real-life, I want to tell them to stuff that. And not just because I don’t like put-downs of something I hold very near and dear to my heart, but because I think it’ss an act of defiance to believe in the good of this world when there are people who are doing their dead-level best to destroy it. And I’m not just talking about blowing us all to kingdom come, but to divide us into have’s and have not’s, to keep us separated along lines of race, religion, and other barriers that are the constructs of people without hope and compassion in their hearts.

Because believing in love means having compassion, empathy, and kindness towards others. True love looks past the surface to the heart and soul of a person. It’s why true love isn’t limited by skin color, religion, or any other barrier the butt-holes of the world try to throw up. Love doesn’t build walls but tears them down.

So to keep it short and sweet today: the world needs happy endings because love does win. Always.

Writing: Cheap Therapy Only in Terms Of Money

Over the last few months, my writing output ebbed and flowed and at times, dried up altogether. But in the end, when it began flowing it became cheap therapy that was only cheap because it didn’t drain my bank account. But it did one heck of a number on my mind, heart, and soul even though I’ve come out on the other side.

 

At times, it felt like I was battling a storm from Hell on the Bearing Sea. And if you’ve ever seen the show ‘The Deadliest Catch’ you’ll get a really strong visual on that. Towering waves of icy-cold salt water crashing over the deck, waves hitting the boat so hard they almost knock it to its’ side, and the ever-present fear of one wave taking the boat down to the bottom of the ocean. Now I’ve never thought about going to the bottom of the ocean on my own (suicide) and I’m not lying on that. I’ve always thought about just crawling away somewhere and never coming out. But I know that’s not the answer either so like those crab boats on the Bearing Sea, I soldier on. Because after all, storms don’t last forever.

 

And that’s the big thing I’ve always learned from writing things out: nothing lasts forever either good or bad. My father used to say life was both and that you just had to accept and deal with that. When I started writing again a couple of months ago, almost everything I wrote got deleted. And that’s okay because not all writing deserves to see the light of day. Sometimes the blank page is a therapist who works for no money at all, just time and emotional equity.

 

And by the way, difficulty writing isn’t just limited to non-fiction either. Fiction writing can sometimes stir up some pretty intense stuff and be used as a form of writing therapy, too. I wouldn’t say writers as a whole are neurotic nut-balls, but if you really get into writing and keep coming back to it no matter how long you’re away from it, you know you’ve got the strength and endurance to get through emotional storms. So I’m going to tell myself here that although I probably won’t ever set foot on a boat in the middle of the Bearing Sea, I can do what those guys do in my own way.

 

I had planned out a schedule of writing with this blog but as always, I seem to be deviating from it. That’s alright because this is my blog and I call the shots here. If I hold back on something, I have my reasons and don’t need to disclose why unless I want to. And that need for privacy is something that should be respected with every person.

 

In another way I’m like those fishermen in Alaska, I know that if I work through the storm that there could be one heck of a payoff at the end. I haven’t hit the jackpot yet but I’m happy where I’m at because I can see the road I want to take.

 

 

I’m not knocking conventional therapy in any way, shape, or form. I believe in it with all my heart and soul and I have the upmost respect and admiration for people who seek professional help. To me, that’s strength and courage. I’m just broke as hell right now and not in that much need. I actually have a pretty sunny outlook right now despite being flat-broke and living out of a suitcase. As I’ve said to people, I won’t exchange the freedom I have in my life for the one I left two years ago. I’ve made mistakes along the way but so has everyone else. I’ve done my best to fix what I can, and learn from the rest. And a lot of that I learned from writing things down (or typing them on my laptop here like I’m doing this now).

 

I know writing is recommended for people to work through their thoughts and feelings and I will add to that recommendation. But I will say that if you really get into writing be prepared. Because like stepping onto a crab boat in the Bearing Sea, you’re going to hit by more than a few storms, empty crab pots, and situations that will push you. And as I like to say, you don’t know what you can handle until you’re faced with it. For me, as long as I can write, I know I can figure things out.

 

Breaking Radio Silence: Happy Birthday to Me

Yes, I deliberately chose to re-launch my website-blog here on what is my forty-fourth birthday. And the reason I’ve chosen this date is I realized I needed to stop waiting and make this happen. Is the timing ideal for me? Heck no. I’m currently living out of a suitcase and flat-broke, but life is not a series of perfectly-timed events.

The reason this website-blog went dark a few months ago is a bit of a long story but let me just say that I had a bit of a crash-and-burn and am picking up the pieces and moving forward in my life. Over the last six months I’ve had a lot of time to think, and not just about the crash-and-burn, and not just about the last two years since I left my last call-center job, but about my entire life.

And the conclusion I’ve come to is this: I’ve been silent for too damn long. All my life I have lived in fear that has been almost choking in its’ intensity at the thought of breaking out of my hard-shell of shyness and anxiety. Because all my life I’ve had a terrible fear that if I truly broke out of that shell and lived my life without being shy and anxious about everything, that someone would come along and do whatever they could to silence me. Yes, I seriously thought that there was someone out there who would shove me back into my shell and weld the only door shut. That’s the voice of fear and anxiety lying its’ ass off but it’s taken me until now to truly realize that and call bullshit on those two asshole-thoughts.

I know there are people in this world who will not agree with what I say, or how I live my life, or just hate the fact that I freaking exist as I am. The thing is, I’ve been terribly ostracized and excluded for being me, and so many people have thought that my silence and shyness was me being a stuck-up snob.

Being a stuck-up snot-faced bitch was the last thing that was on my mind. If I kept my mouth shut and stayed out of everyone’s way it was because I thought that was the best thing I could do. I have never wanted to be a burden, or an annoyance with anyone.

But being quiet and shy does not mean someone is stuck-up so if you think that, take that thought and choke on it with a pile of your own shit. And I will not follow that last statement with an apology for its’ bluntness because there’s no excuse for judging someone without listening to them or getting to know them at all. I have never known a terribly shy person to be a stuck-up snot. In fact, all the stuck-up snots I’ve known have been loud-mouths who never bothered to hide their suck-assed stuck-up attitude.

Again, no apologies for the rant of the above paragraph as this is what you can expect here from now on. If I want to let it rip on asshole-behavior, I will. For far too long, I believed in tolerance for shitty attitudes and behavior because I thought that was what was best. It wasn’t because my silent tolerance didn’t do a damn thing to change anyone, and I’m sure my speaking out against bad behavior won’t do so either past a certain point. People make the decision whether or not to change themselves regardless of whatever you say or do (or don’t do).

And I’ve made my decision to come out of my shell on my own terms. Those terms that I live by are:

– First, do no harm to anyone or anything.

– Second, try to keep fear and anger in check, and realize both those bastards will lie their freaking asses off if given any opportunity to do so.

– Third, always remember that everyone has a story to tell. It’s the story of their life that they’re living and unless they’re literally getting in your shit, leave them to live out that story.

– Fourth, remember that everyone else is just as full of shit as you are sometimes in that we all make mistakes. But making mistakes and not having all the answers doesn’t make you a bad person; it means you’re human.

In addition to coming out of my shell and only going back into it to sleep, I want to put my past behind me once and for all. That will be a journey I will be sharing with you here with the ‘Breaking Radio Silence’ book project. That’s a book that I’m calling a memoire/self-help hybrid that I’m still working on.

In addition to that, I’ll also be letting loose on topics of a political, social, and religious nature. Yes, I will be wading into that area of the world, too. I’ve been too damn silent in regards to that area of life and holding back hasn’t helped the cause of fighting against the injustice of the world we live in. Corruption of any kind is wrong, whether it’s political or moral and writing about it is my first step towards fighting that.

But I’m also a writer so there will be weekly entries on writing topics and the business side of writing. Since my goal is to make a living with my writing, this will be about my journey and like everything else here, it will be an honest one.

In the end, I hope that anyone who reads this gets something out of it. I want anyone reading this to know that they’re not alone in this world, and that other people have had thoughts and feelings just like theirs. I know I’m not the only person on the planet that has felt alone and isolated all their lives. I just want other people to know that you don’t have to be silent. You don’t have to go public like I’m doing but you can find your own way to break free from fear and anxiety, and all around petty-ass bullshit-people even if it’s just in your own mind.

So on my forty-fourth birthday, I will be going forward one step at a time.

I will tell myself every day that everyone is just as full of shit as I am sometimes, but that I’m not a bad person.

I will tell myself that everyone has a story to tell and live, and to do whatever I can to keep their story going in any positive way I can.

Most of all, I won’t retreat, or go silent ever again.