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Self Love is Revolutionary

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The thought that self-love is revolutionary is becoming more common these days. There has been an interest explosion in all of these different areas typically considered to be about loving ones self. There are self-help books, blogs, and articles written every day about it. Everyone seems to be trying to love themselves more. On my Facebook friend list this morning within five minutes I saw people writing about losing weight, eating right, meditation, and taking yoga. People are switching jobs, leaving spouses, and coming out of closets all in an effort to love themselves better.

I don’t see people describing furthering their educations or changing careers as a means of self-love and personal fulfillment. In my opinion it is one of the most revolutionary acts. I have been meditating, running, doing yoga, buying houses, and making decisions in my romantic life that I thought were going to make me happy for years. However, every day I have to go in to a job that I am good at, with people who I like on most days, only to leave in the evening and feel unfulfilled.

I realized years ago that nursing wasn’t really the thing for me, writing was, writing has always been the thing; but I’ve kept plugging away at nursing. I thought if I started writing more that it would make me happier. I started a blog, began competing in Poetry Slams, completed my first novel, joined different writing groups, and…It didn’t make me any happier. Actually, trying to juggle my writing life with my day job just made my day job feel more unbearable. Some days I forget to be thankful that I have a job and just feel annoyed that I’m forced to work when I should be writing. I began to feel resentful that I was unable to just quit and chase my dreams. I’m an adult and I have grown people bills.

For the last couple of months I’ve been struggling, trying to figure out how to write for a living, how to switch jobs and get a job that would allow more time for writing. How to do anything besides what I was doing. I woke up one day and decided that I was going to go back to school to pursue a degree in Journalism. I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want anyone to try to talk me out of out. I didn’t want to hear people tell me that I should be focusing on completing my nursing degree for the financial stability that it brings.

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So I changed my major and enrolled in a full load of classes towards my Journalism degree. Instantly I was much happier. I felt like for the first time I was actually showing myself some much-needed love. Amazingly when I revealed to my friends and family what I was doing they all seemed to be happy for me. The same friends and family members who have been telling me to further my nursing education actually said, “It’s about time.” or “I’m so happy for you.”

Realizing that the path that you’re on isn’t the right path and actually starting to do something about it is one of the most amazing feelings. Even if it’s going to take you ten years to become a chef, a physical therapist, or even a journalist; taking the first step, planting the first seed, casting the first stone feels so delightful. It feels REVOLUTIONARY. EXHILARATING. FREEING.

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The feeling is one that I wish  that I could share with so many people who are struggling to figure it out. If I could say one thing to all of the people trying to figure out what they want, how they want it, and how to get it, it would be to take Esther Hick‘s advice and stop trying to figure it out. I stopped trying to figure it out and I just started doing it. In response I have not struggled with my decision at all, my job has accommodated my school schedule, the money for school was automatically there, the support for my son was automatically there. The Universe has lined up to support me and my decision. I am so grateful that I started this revolutionary journey.

Adventures in Shopping 8.1.15

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Note to self: If you go to the grocery store at noon on a Saturday it will be just like being at work, population wise. 
A group of shoppers will be intent on trying every kind of meat and cheese in the deli “to make sure they like it” they will do things that are humorous i.e. bouncing and swaying before putting some of “this great meat” in Harold’s mouth. Harold will look to you in embarrassment before his eyes open wider with delight over this magical meat. You should not laugh out loud. 

There is definitely some novel fodder in this material. Life is full of material, pay attention.  

Adrien’s Adventures in Homeownership 07.26.15

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Soooo you buy a house, you move in, you unpack most of your things… now what? Firstly you realize that homeownership is EXPENSIVE and that you need to pace yourself. My home was completely remodeled so I haven’t needed to replace anything crucial but a bunch of little things keep popping up that will need to eventually be addressed.

Example: The HUGE washer and dryer that I had to have in order to not be forced to wash my comforters at a laundry mat, doesn’t fit!

IMG_3375 Dueling Machines!

After much deliberation over whether to return them, exchange them, bust open the wall to make space for them, or to be logical and make them fit for now and arrange to have the connections moved in order for them to fit, I went with the latter. So for now my machines look like they’re in an epic duel. Eventually I’ll budget enough money to have the connections moved but for now it works.

There are also a lot of low-cost incidentals which can add up to a pretty penny if you don’t pay close attention to every swipe of your card. I have three bathrooms, none of which came with a shower curtain rod.  So I needed three of those along with a mailbox, a refrigerator, a stove, and a couch. Which I purchased all on credit. So in addition to my mortgage payment I’ve gone from a person who had no debt outside of student loans to a person with more debt than I’d like to admit. I know #FirstWorldProblems. I’m privileged and today I am so appreciative of the few privileges that I have. Without the debt I wouldn’t even have a bed to sleep in.

I’m trying to clamp down on my excitement and urge to go out and fill my home with all of the things that I think I want. After my divorce I took my time furnishing my apartment and that process ended up with me being the most comfortable I’ve ever been in an apartment.  I keep reminding myself of this along with the fact that I intend to own this house for years to come and over time my preferences will change. So I can’t just go out and charge a bunch of trendy items. Mostly I’m re-learning what I’ve known for a while, if you take your time and strategize you can have anything you want and need without breaking the bank. I’m realizing what I definitely have to have (a bed) and what I can wait a while to get (a dining room table). So if you happen to visit be prepared to eat dinner on my lovely TV tables.

My greatest homeowner accomplishments over the last week:

Installing my own mailbox with DJ and BF.

Locating an extra long shower curtain that I like for the master bathroom. (A task a lot harder than it seems.)

Utilizing my resources to get my shower rod hung. (AB will forever be the greatest!)

Realizing that I have all the time in the world to get this home decorated the way that I want it. IMG_4011

I did it!

I did it!

MOMA Nights

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TAMPA MOMA

On the night that your fiancée waltzes in to your bedroom, sits down across from you, and says the dreaded four words “We need to talk.” then after much terrified prodding and the most horrible pregnant pause of your entire life follows that statement up with “I’m not ready to be married.” You will think that you’re going to die. In fact you will carefully consider that option. After all the beer bottle that you’re now drowning your sorrows in could easily be broken and you could use one of the shards to slit your wrists. But this is not really a viable option. You’re an adult woman and this is not your first rodeo. You are after all once divorced and you know that this too shall pass. That the sun will in fact come out tomorrow and unfortunately (or at least it seems) this is not where your story ends.

You won’t sleep well. This could be from the fact that you went to bed at seven pm or it could be from the fact that you’ve just lost a piece of you. It makes sense that when such a huge part of your life, something you’ve looked forward to, and worked so hard for falls apart without much advance notice, that you will be restless. This is when you must make the decision to be ok.

So you get up out of bed at the butt crack of dawn and make the brilliant decision to go for a walk. It’s not very surprising that you walk the three miles to downtown Tampa in a fugue state. You barely even acknowledged the six homeless men who yelled out to you when you made your way past Curtis Hixon Park. Even right outside of your neighborhood when you’d made it to Kennedy and that police officer had pulled you over (is that the term for when you’re walking?)  and asked where you were headed after demanding your identification; even that was surreal. Hell you weren’t even scared though you should have been; Mike Brown isn’t even cold… for that matter neither is Yvette Smith. But you weren’t, you just handed him the ID and waited patiently as he ran your name, came back, passed you the card, and urged you to be safe.

Maybe you knew that you were headed to the place where you thought you had solidified your future. You weren’t surprised when you ended up there. Was it fate that made the lights the same colors that they were when the proposal happened. You know they’ve since changed. That one night you went to the festival they were yellow and red. But the worst night of your life they were the exact same color as they were on the best night of your life. Pink and blue. Like the colors that parents choose to bring their newborn babies home in. Like the colors of Easter eggs. Like the color of your favorite sky.

And was it fate that made that damn Rihanna song come on. As you were sitting there trying to figure out if this thing that you had declared to be art on the best day of your life was actually art on the worst day of your life. As the lights changed from pink to blue and the tears flowed and Rihanna sang about how she wanted him to stay then Taylor Swift burst in saying how she couldn’t make him stay and how players were gonna play play play, was that part fate? I don’t think you ever even figured out if it were art. When you paused the song and looked it up Google defined art as“the various branches of creative activity, such as painting, music, literature, and dance”. Wasn’t this creative? This massive square brick structure with the beautiful lights that changed color from time to time. This thing that housed art. Was it in fact art? Aren’t the lights so pretty though? Even if it’s not art?

I don’t think you figured it out, whether it was art or not because you couldn’t get rid of the feeling that your heart had been simultaneously snatched out of your chest and shoved down your throat at the same time. You thought you had a partnership… That you were working towards creating/ building a life together and now you realized that you’re not. Well, you didn’t realize it as much as you had been informed of it.

Why did you come here? To bring back the memories of how shocked and happy you were when she pulled you to the front of that crowd of dancing people because your song was playing. You were so into trying to mimic the dancers moves and singing how you wanted to dance with somebody who loved you that you missed your entire family sitting all around you. Your dad was actually sitting at a cafe table right next to you when she turned you around and got down on one knee. You didn’t see him there though because you were having fun and you were in love and she, the woman of your dreams was asking you to marry her. And everything was beautiful. After you said yes and danced some more with your friends and family and you’d cried happy tears in this same spot in front of this brilliant piece of art. She’d asked if you wanted to go inside and you’d replied “No.” “Don’t you want to see the art?” she’d asked looking down at that huge diamond that she’d just placed on your hand and you’d turned her around so that she could see the lights on the building and asked “Isn’t this art? Aren’t we art?”

Now you remember why you came. When she was telling you how now just wasn’t the right time, and saying how it wasn’t you it was her, and how her job was going to require her to travel more, and her brother needed her, and how maybe one day the timing would be right, you had made the decision to come here to kiss forever goodbye in the same fashion that you had kissed it hello.

So, On the night your fiancée waltzes in to your bedroom, sits down across from you, and says the dreaded four words “We need to talk.” then after much terrified prodding and the most horrible pregnant pause of your entire life follows that statement up with “I’m not ready to be married.” When the news you are hearing is flowing over you like the suffocating heat of a hot August afternoon there are two things you can do. One, you can totally come undone. You can take out every single pin that you have stuck in you, peel off every piece of tape that you’ve stuck to you, remove every staple, and dissolve every ounce of glue that you have ever used to hold your being together and you can lose it. This is a totally acceptable option. Or Two: you can go to the place where you thought forever was cemented in stone and you can kiss forever goodbye and you could even cry but you could make a vow to not let this destroy you. Either you fall apart, or you stand up, you insert steel into your spinal cord, look over at that big beautiful piece of art and you say “What’s next cause I’m ready?”

A Lesson In Phone Etiquette AKA How Not to Wind Up On The Ignore List.

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People often complain that with the advent of new technology, the shift to more social media interactions vs in person interactions, and the constant use of cellular phones, etiquette is becoming a thing of the past. I always rebut with the statement; It depends on who your friends are.

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Many people believe that the higher  a person’s education or socioeconomic status is the better their etiquette. I don’t agree. Working in the health care field and being surrounded by people from all education and socioeconomic statuses, I can honesty say that in my experience bad etiquette is rampant in all walks of life.

Thankfully most of my friends, regardless to whether or not they sought higher education, completed trade school, or  were just raised by parents who taught them good etiquette never commit certain socially unacceptable (at least in our circle) phone faux pas. For instance, we send a greeting text before delving in to the subject, we sign off with well wishes and don’t just leave conversations lingering, if a conversation can’t be summised in a few text messages we send a “Hey, call me when you get a chance” text, and we never EVER message or call each other during hours we know are off limits, especially without extending an apology for communicating too early or too late. Apparently my circle of friends, no matter where in the world  we stem from, were all taught or learned to behave better than that.

Recently I went through an experience which reminded me that phone etiquette isn’t always taught so I compiled a list of things that burn my bum, maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m right, either way here goes:

Do not begin a text conversation without some sort of greeting. A simple HEY goes a long way.

When beginning new communication interactions ask the other person how they like to be communicated with. I have friends who both Love and HATE text messages; the same goes for voice calls.

Only use text lingo that the other person understands. A friend of mine informed me today that she just found out what OMW meant very recently. While not a frequent short hand user even I am guilty of this one.

Before delving in to what ails you as soon as the other person answers the phone is it both customary and just plain respectful to ask how they are, how their day is going, and even if they have the time to talk before dumping your life juice in to their lap.

As for the previous item, after asking about their day actually LISTEN to how the other person’s day is going before you dump your life juice on to their lap. They know if you’re listening or just waiting patiently to vomit your ever so important experience or promise in to their ears. (It’s probably pretty obvious that this burns my bum. It does. It drives me up the wall.)

Ask yourself if it’s really okay to call someone and complain about your life every single day.

Ask yourself if the person you are calling wants to hear you complain about your life every single day. Some people love to listen to things like this others not so much. (I tend to be of the latter school of thought. I can be a listening ear occasionally but after day twenty-six I start to think about how my counselor gets paid one hundred dollars an hour.)

You do not have to yell into your phone for the other person to hear you. I shouldn’t have to turn my volume down every time you call me. Wanna know if you’re guilty of this? Walk through a crowded place and speak like you normally do. Are people looking at you with distain? Your conversation is either inappropriate for your surroundings or you’re screaming in to the phone.

If you call someone you should probably spend more time talking to them and less time talking to the people in your background. This is sometimes hard if you’re a parent, in that case maybe you should try and wait until the kids are asleep to call your best friend and give her the scoop. That conversation is probably not made for small ears anyways.

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Is that group text really necessary? Does everyone in that group already have the other members numbers? Or is this group going to lead to people asking “Who is this?”  when other people begin to respond? If so it’s probably a better idea to just go ahead and copy/paste or forward the message to everyone instead of including them in the same message.

It’s ok to ask someone if you can return their call when you’re done talking to the cashier or the bank teller. There aren’t many things more annoying than having to listen to someone decide whether they want four or six nuggets while you wait for them to get to the point.

These are just a few of the things that drive me crazy. I could be the only person in the world whom things like this bother but if you’ve ever noticed the decline in more than one friend’s attention after doing some of these things chances are you should probably try not to do them, at least not as much as you used to. If they work drop me a line.

Cold Hearted

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Cold Hearted

Shawna picked up the paperweight from her bosses desk and examined it more closely. It was a gray stone heart no bigger than the palm of her hand with a beautiful face etched into it. She could tell that someone had taken their time and created the peace out of love. The face was so realistic. The eyes looked as if they were looking through your soul and the set of the rest of the face looked as if someone had deeply disappointed it. She started to rub her finger down the bridge of the nose and dropped it when the nose seemed to twitch at her.

“Oh crap.” She said loudly bending to retrieve the piece of art from where it’d dropped under the desk on the hardwood floor. She prayed that it wasn’t broken and had just managed to grab it from under the desk when she heard someone clear their throat behind her. Jumping up from her space on the floor she stuck the paperweight in her back pocket and adjusted her pants.

“Can I help you with something?” Lucas asked walking towards her and stopping just close enough to invade her space. “I’m sorry I came in to give you this message and dropped my pen under your desk.” She answered passing him the piece of paper from his desk.

He took it and stood there looking at her hands questioningly. She felt her face redden as she realized as he had that her pen was on his desk. She grabbed it and murmured “I swore it rolled under the desk. Sometimes I’m so blind.” before rushing out of his office straight in to the nearest bathroom then locking the door behind her.

“Why did you take me?” a muffled voice said from inside her back pocket and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Thinking that she was imagining things she reached into her pocket and pulled the heart out. “Thank goodness you took me out of there. Your trousers are way too tight.” The voice said angrily. She wanted to throw the thing in the trash she was so freaked out.

She sat down on the toilet holding the thing up to her face so she could examine it more closely. “Am I crazy or do you really talk?” she questioned. “The answer to your question is both. Now take me back to where you found me right now.” The face said glowering at her. “How is this possible?” Shawna said more to herself refusing to believe that the object was talking to her. “Do you really wanna know? Put me close to your ear.” The voice said quietly.

Shawna lay on the cool bathroom floor wondering how she could ever get her body back. Her mother had always told her that curiosity killed the cat and while she wasn’t dead she figured she may as well be as she was doomed to spend eternity staring through the eyes of a cold heart.

UnknownEbb and Flow by Calaan Rae

Public Lifestyle

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There’s something to be said for sharing your life with the public. They get to watch all of your ebbs and flows, highs and lows. To me it makes the highs higher and the lows lower.

He wrote it down.

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You are brave and I’m so happy that you got a little bit of salvation.

In Others' Words's avatarIn Others' Words...

Our intention was to dance on his grave.

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My beautiful cousin, who I’d not seen in 35 years, and I set out to dance on our grandfather’s grave. Our first dilemma was, of course, song choice. You have to have the right song. We bandied a few song titles about, Alanis Morrisette was a front runner.

Obviously.

We drove to the town where he lived, and where he is buried. We drove to the town where we were abused. Driving down the picturesque New England roads, I felt a little faint. Mary felt a little barfy. We pulled into a store parking lot, and Mary spent some quality time behind a dumpster, hurling. It happens.

We weren’t entirely sure where the cemetery was, so we pulled into a police station to ask for directions. I said, jokingly, We should go in and file a police report. Mary said, What would…

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Christmas/New Year’s Sale – Dream Brother: A Novel – $0.99 (90% off list price) – Kindle Ebook

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Brian Marggraf's avatarIndie Hero

“Dreams are just nightmares that haven’t turned yet.”

The Amazon Kindle version of Dream Brother is $0.99 (90% off list price) until midnight, January 2nd, 2015.

Here are the links:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Please help spread the word by doing any or all of the following:

like it, re-blog it, tweet it, pin it, share it on Facebook, Google plus it,

email it, Digg it, share it on Reddit or Tumblr, stumble it,

or just simply tell someone about it.

Thanks and Happy Holidays!

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San Francisco, California. Fifty hills surrounded by the cold waters of the ocean and the bay. City of rebellion and revolution. Smothered by fog daily.

This is the place where Jacob Gavel grew up, the place he ran away from at twenty, and the place he never thought he’d come back to.

The city’s in the middle of its second financial renaissance. A century and a half…

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