I am grateful for that splash of yellow on an otherwise grey day.
Even when things are hard, nature can pull a smile form me.
Saturday, April 5, 2014
Daffodil
This morning I took the big guy for a walk and along the section of road were a hundred daffodils.
Friday, April 4, 2014
Social Rules? Fuck them.
Yesterday, I stumbled across a post in my feed from a girl I absolutely adore. The gist of her update was that due to 'social rules' she was withholding her feelings and instead posting a video of moose noises. The social rule in this instance was not burdening others with negativity or unhappiness. Apparently, if you put too many downtrodden posts out into the cyber world people get annoyed.
Why have they done this for me? Why will I do it for you?
Because we are all connected. We are one. Me and you. We exist here. Together.
And if we can't turn to our friends and family, if we can't speak our minds, in person or on the intersnacks to the ones we care about, the ones who are supposed to give a damn, then what good is socializing anyhow? Not being honest with our feelings, not being truthful to the ones we let into our hearts is utter bologna. This isn't a tea party. We aren't ladies. And we don't lift our pinkies when we drink tea. Well, some of us don't. Some of us have to because it's ingrained in us and an impossible habit to break. But what I am saying is we aren't debutantes. We aren't playing bridge and talking about the weather, eating cucumber sandwiches and wearing floral hats. The days of hiding our secrets and inconvenient emotions in a box under our beds are over because it never made anything better. (This is the comedic relief)
Here is where there is no humour.
Depression is a real thing. More people are affected by it every day. Mental health issues. Suicide. These are things that exist in our lives, that we brush shoulders with, that some of us know far too well. Chances are, someone we love is suffering. Hurting. In pain. Struggling. It boggles my mind and befuddles my heart to consider the fact someone I adore could need help but is not speaking up, not asking for help, not venting because of some stupid social rule.
Fuck the weak of heart and uncaring. Fuck the ones who get annoyed by expression of emotion. Fuck anyone who doesn't want to hear it. Fuck those who are scared of the truth.
Because the alternative to speaking up and writing posts and talking about the pain and negativity and doubt and hurt and despair and uncertainty is bottling it up. Shoving it down. Ignoring it. Hiding. Running away. Recoiling. Shutting everyone out. Turning away. Leaving them to 'deal' with it on their own. For them to try to find their way through the darkness without a hand to hold or someone to talk to.
That's why I say fuck social rules. Let it out. Because keeping it in isn't helping anyone. And if anyone is truly bothered by how you are feeling or what you are thinking, then they can fuck right off too. They aren't worth the time or energy and clearly need to cultivate their empathy and understanding. Maybe a lesson in love will set them straight.
Perhaps it's because I've experienced the darkness that I understand if you don't let it out, you will never let it go.
Of course, in my true fashion, I replied with, "Social rules? Fuck them."
And it wasn't just a passing comment, nor something witty or humorous said to garner chuckles. It wasn't a flippant remark. It wasn't said without feeling or thought.
I genuinely think most social rules should be ignored. Not because I'm a rebel. Not because I like to stir the pot. But because I don't like the idea of people censoring themselves. I don't think it is healthy to slap a hand over your mouth and swallow your emotions, especially if it is only not to piss off the wrong people. I say wrong people because the right ones will never be annoyed by you. The right ones will always care. They will always love and protect and give you a safe place to fall apart and pull yourself together.
It is counterproductive to one's health and well being to stifle thoughts, cares, concerns and feelings. This world is tough. People are hard. The badness can weigh you down, make it seem as if it is impossible to stand and walk and exist. Life is difficult. It isn't easy. And sometimes we get lost. We can't find our way. We stumble through the darkness, waiting for the light, just a flicker to pull us through. Realistically, most of us can't do it alone. We need other people in order to make it out okay. To survive the blackness.
I am grateful for those who have shone their light on me. And I only hope there are others who are grateful that I have held up a flame for them.
It is counterproductive to one's health and well being to stifle thoughts, cares, concerns and feelings. This world is tough. People are hard. The badness can weigh you down, make it seem as if it is impossible to stand and walk and exist. Life is difficult. It isn't easy. And sometimes we get lost. We can't find our way. We stumble through the darkness, waiting for the light, just a flicker to pull us through. Realistically, most of us can't do it alone. We need other people in order to make it out okay. To survive the blackness.
I am grateful for those who have shone their light on me. And I only hope there are others who are grateful that I have held up a flame for them.
Why have they done this for me? Why will I do it for you?
Because we are all connected. We are one. Me and you. We exist here. Together.
And if we can't turn to our friends and family, if we can't speak our minds, in person or on the intersnacks to the ones we care about, the ones who are supposed to give a damn, then what good is socializing anyhow? Not being honest with our feelings, not being truthful to the ones we let into our hearts is utter bologna. This isn't a tea party. We aren't ladies. And we don't lift our pinkies when we drink tea. Well, some of us don't. Some of us have to because it's ingrained in us and an impossible habit to break. But what I am saying is we aren't debutantes. We aren't playing bridge and talking about the weather, eating cucumber sandwiches and wearing floral hats. The days of hiding our secrets and inconvenient emotions in a box under our beds are over because it never made anything better. (This is the comedic relief)
Here is where there is no humour.
Depression is a real thing. More people are affected by it every day. Mental health issues. Suicide. These are things that exist in our lives, that we brush shoulders with, that some of us know far too well. Chances are, someone we love is suffering. Hurting. In pain. Struggling. It boggles my mind and befuddles my heart to consider the fact someone I adore could need help but is not speaking up, not asking for help, not venting because of some stupid social rule.
Fuck the weak of heart and uncaring. Fuck the ones who get annoyed by expression of emotion. Fuck anyone who doesn't want to hear it. Fuck those who are scared of the truth.
Because the alternative to speaking up and writing posts and talking about the pain and negativity and doubt and hurt and despair and uncertainty is bottling it up. Shoving it down. Ignoring it. Hiding. Running away. Recoiling. Shutting everyone out. Turning away. Leaving them to 'deal' with it on their own. For them to try to find their way through the darkness without a hand to hold or someone to talk to.
That's why I say fuck social rules. Let it out. Because keeping it in isn't helping anyone. And if anyone is truly bothered by how you are feeling or what you are thinking, then they can fuck right off too. They aren't worth the time or energy and clearly need to cultivate their empathy and understanding. Maybe a lesson in love will set them straight.
Perhaps it's because I've experienced the darkness that I understand if you don't let it out, you will never let it go.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
I Have Something To Say
But I don't have the energy or time to write it out. I will practice the post in my head tonight and deliver it tomorrow. Because there will be a tomorrow.
Sorry, but the message is important and I want to do it justice. Sometimes we have to take a minute to think about what we want to say before putting it forth into the world. Well, isn't that just a golden nugget of information. Could you imagine if everyone thought before they spoke?
I'll be back in due time. Until then, how about you tell me what you are grateful for. However big or small. Whatever it is in this moment that you love and cherish and are thankful for. Trust me, I won't judge. I never do. You can even post it anonymously.
And I will be grateful for whatever you post because you are reaching out to me and I am reaching out to you.
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
The Little Kid Feeling
Remember way back when you were a little kid and you saw something knew and a feeling of wonderment and excitement passed over you. How you could stare up at a rainbow or watch lightning fork the sky and have to pause to take it in simply because it left you breathless. How you used to lay down in the grass, look up at the limitless blue sky and form pictures from the clouds. Times when you would sit cross legged in the park and try to coax a squirrel over to you with a peanut.
Remember how those things were awesome and, for the fleeting time you spent there in the moment, you were happy and astonished. It's one of the best feelings. That total sense of awe at the world around you.
Sometimes, if you're lucky, you have that little kid feeling when you are an adult. Sometimes the bitterness is put on hold, the harshness of the world falls away and you find yourself in a moment of unsullied amazement. It's those experiences that should stay with us. We should hold them inside, revisit them whenever possible, so we don't forget how exquisite life can be.
These small moments of wonder happen to me a fair bit. When I am out in the forest, searching for adventure, and the sky splits apart and rain falls from the heavens with such a ferocity you'd think it was mourning the loss of something grand. Listening to the sea lions bark at each other at Fanny Bay. Spying a deer at the side of the road grazing on lush green grass. Seeing anything for the first time, like a moose ambling across a roadway, or a mother with her cubs. A piece of cake I can eat. Or watching a bird fly, how it soars through the sky without thought to the magic it is displaying.
Today my little kid feeling came from a bumblebee. A very big bumblebee with an orange belt, We are talking loonie sized. Freeing it from the salon. Watching as it took to the sky. There was that sense of joy and astonishment.
That feeling is what I am grateful for. That I still have it. And hopefully always will.
Remember how those things were awesome and, for the fleeting time you spent there in the moment, you were happy and astonished. It's one of the best feelings. That total sense of awe at the world around you.
Sometimes, if you're lucky, you have that little kid feeling when you are an adult. Sometimes the bitterness is put on hold, the harshness of the world falls away and you find yourself in a moment of unsullied amazement. It's those experiences that should stay with us. We should hold them inside, revisit them whenever possible, so we don't forget how exquisite life can be.
These small moments of wonder happen to me a fair bit. When I am out in the forest, searching for adventure, and the sky splits apart and rain falls from the heavens with such a ferocity you'd think it was mourning the loss of something grand. Listening to the sea lions bark at each other at Fanny Bay. Spying a deer at the side of the road grazing on lush green grass. Seeing anything for the first time, like a moose ambling across a roadway, or a mother with her cubs. A piece of cake I can eat. Or watching a bird fly, how it soars through the sky without thought to the magic it is displaying.
Today my little kid feeling came from a bumblebee. A very big bumblebee with an orange belt, We are talking loonie sized. Freeing it from the salon. Watching as it took to the sky. There was that sense of joy and astonishment.
That feeling is what I am grateful for. That I still have it. And hopefully always will.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
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