#mheartind

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Red is killing the customer service game at work.  Absolutely killin’ it.  Admiration abounds.

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How to tell you have a wicked cool kid: You only allot 15 minutes for art-making time after dinner and he straight up does not take that shit from you.  Way to be kid.   (:

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Time to make a decision.  It’s the mascara or the crying.

Life is hard right now people.  The tears come suddenly and by the bucketful.

I’m choosing mascara.  I am determined to not let this darkness darken me.  And honestly, who seriously has the time to apply makeup every single day?  Not this lady.

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I have a Sir who shows me the errors of my ways in the most gentle and wonderful of ways.  I change, not as a result of his conviction, but because of something he shows me about myself that I see fit to change.

I see to fit to change feeling insecure about certain parts of myself. 

I thusly give you a list of things I sometimes feel insecure about.  We all have things.  I’d like to hear your list if you’d like to share.   

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Things I’m insecure about:

  My weight

My body

My health

My eyelid

My eye puff

When people don’t follow my train of thought

When I lose my train of thought

When I get so swept away by the spectacularly colorful train passing by that I just can’t focus on anything for a whole hot minute.

I am

            Boy crazy,

            Nap crazy,

            Super enthusiastic,

            In love with almost everything,

            Always just wanting to float away on a cloud of happiness,

            Lovely……       if I do say so myself.

  Nervous that I’m the only one that gets the inside joke.

  Afraid

 That my dreams might simply be too big for my britches.

  That I’m not a good enough friend, daughter, stranger, sister, aunt, passerby.  

  That I like my job more than I’m good at it.

  That I have nothing tangible to give to this world and its people.

  That I will live too much

And not enough,

All at the same time.

  And that I will pass away on the wind away from this Earth never having touched with my own two hands, that which I know to be true.

Proof that a broken heart can still skip a beat.

A stomach in knots can still get butterflies.

There is still a type of happiness in the world that words can’t touch.

Ivan.

Damn Sir. That was unexpected.

It took 7 days for the memory of you to hit me. You woke me up.

I discovered this theory a while back while in the dust at Burning Man. It hit me like a rainfall of confetti and it stuck to me, day in and day out, slowly changing me.

When doubt lingers. When confusion reigns. When anger or sadness or hopelessness will not cease. When I wonder what to do, I say to myself:

* ** If you make all of your decisions based on love, you will be okay. ** *

These are hard times folks. I spend a lot of my energy every day questioning what the right thing to do is. What the best thing is for the one I love the most on this Earth. How I can make things better for him. How I can accept that which I cannot change and how I can find that grand, all-inclusive list naming all of the things that I CAN change, that I may get onto changing every single one of those things so that he has all of the best chances in life to be happy and healthy.

Seriously. Deep breath.

I remember to think about my intentions. To really examine why I do the things that I do and say the things that I say. Why I believe that which I believe.

And when I finally make it an unfailing practice to act and speak and decide in love, everything will be okay.