I’m reading a book by Dr. Brene Brown called “The Gifts of Imperfection.”  It’s a great work for anyone who might struggle with living an authentic life and self-worth.  By “struggle” I don’t mean an inner battle, I just mean you fight for those things and you lose more than you win.  If the reel playing inside your brain speaks more bad than good; if you chastise yourself more than compliment, maybe you struggle.  I like to call my own battles the “not good enough” syndrome.  I can name you a reason for everything why I’m not good enough. 

The Not Good Enough (NGE) developed, in my case, because my self worth was hinged on achievements and performance to earn approval and acceptance.  I was not “sporty” enough (or so I was told) so what I lacked in athletic ability—a trait highly coveted—I made up for with good grades and other such achievements.  No one instilled that in me, it’s just something I did at a very young age to get some sort of validation.  And it came very easy for me.  But it lead to a great deal of perfectionism.  Looking back, my idols have all been people with great struggle, most of which did not end well:  Kurt Cobain, Janis Joplin, The Beatles, tortured poets and writers, artists who cut their own ears off and such.  Only the last decade or so have I found writers with purpose, Oprah, Albert Einstein and the like to be more influential.  Looking back, my obsession with imperfection was like a “what not to do” guide.  Or perhaps I was just looking at people so f’d up yet they were still accepted for the gifts they had.  Was it my way of saying to myself, “It’s ok not to be perfect?  Look at this guy…”  Who knows.

Perfectionism is a deadly disease.  It kills off relationships and isolates you.  It isn’t that everyone around you has to be perfect.  However, you are driven to make all situations perfect and it’s hard to accept yourself when you’re not perfect.  I beat myself up about my marriage for years.  Truth is, I was only 50% of the equation. And you can be imperfect in a relationship.  I just didn’t realize it then.  When you have a voice telling you how you aren’t perfect and you suffer from perfectionism, it’s quite deadly to the soul.  He wasn’t 100% of the problem.  Hell, it’s not anyone else’s responsibility to fix me.  In fact, that marriage, and subsequent divorce, did more to show me how I operated and loved more than anything else.  I’d go so far as to say nowadays Mr. Cavender was a blessing and a gift in my life almost as much as any of my family or best friends. 

But here’s a problem:  you are expected to make marriage work and instead of seeing things for how they are, a perfectionist (and most others I reckon) see divorce as the ultimate “I screwed up.”  First off, for anyone who may see this or may soon be in the divorce position, it’s isn’t an “I” screwed up, it’s a “we” screwed up.  Marriage is a partnership in it’s most purist form.  If you can’t operate as partners in life, than it’s a dual failure.  Because, in my humble opinion, taking marriage vows is no more than offering your life as an equal partner to someone else.  It’s a strange and tricky little mess this partnership thing.  You are NOT always 50/50.  Very few days of a marriage (or any partnership) are equal loads carried.  It’s not about splitting things down the middle either.  Oh no, not about that AT ALL.  In fact, divorce is when things are split down the middle.  During an active partnership, sometimes you have to carry the burden of [insert your own little quirky relationship thingy] for years.  It’s certainly not fair.  However, in a good partnership you both realize and acknowledge the other person might be carrying some other little quirky relationship thingy for you as well.  It’s great if this can be verbalized, but it’s not mandatory.  Gratitude goes a long damn way.  I’ll even go on a limb here on my little soap box and tell you gratitude can make or break your marriage aka partnership.  Mutual appreciation at all times can be your key to success.

Secondly, divorce was my life’s greatest teacher.  If you don’t leave a relationship/partnership and understand how you contributed and how you could have helped that person and yourself better, you really did just waste the years.  Otherwise, you’ve had the joy of learning firsthand about yourself and who you really are.  That’s the greatest gift anyone can give you.  Same as friendship and any other connection that crumbles:  there’s a time to beat to yourself up & then there’s a time to step back and love yourself for all your flaws and peacefully accept it just is how it is.  People just are how they are.  And that’s 100% ok.  They are meant to be them; you are meant to be you.  Accept the insights and knowledge they bestow humbly and move on.  SOOOO much time is lost on harassing ourselves for what we did or did not do.  Please hear me other perfectionists: You will never make up the lost time or learn to do better when you are looking at yourself through eyes of NGE.  You have to drop that NGE shit or you can never find your own value.  The worry, anxiety, depression, addiction, etc will haunt you for nearly every day until you figure that out.

So, I’ve been studying how imperfect is the absolute perfect.  Yes, that’s right, how things that are flawed are what make life its most beautiful.  That you fought and lost, but learned, makes everything right in the universe.  I’ve taken to studying and appreciating the imperfections in people as much as what is so perfect about them.  Amazingly, I’m learning they go hand-in-hand. 

It’s no secret I’ve reached the point in my life I want to settle down and have some baybays.  But I see why God had to teach me some important lessons before I was ready.  And this gift of imperfection lesson is probably one of the most monumental.  Whose to say if I’d had kids earlier in life that I wouldn’t lead them down my own path of perfectionism?  That would suck.  How can you teach a child they’re good enough if they see an example of NGE every single day?  Hmm. Something to think about.

Enter dream sequence… What does the gift of imperfection look like when it comes to relationships and family?  I’m thinking that imperfection is no matter what, we make one another smile and laugh.  We look in the mirror when we’re alone and each of us can smile because we are happy with ourselves.  We aren’t afraid to try new things, even if we fail.  And when we fail, we laugh about that too.  The gift of imperfection would be stains on nice carpet from all the dirt from tiny feet running in and out of the house.  Someone sending me some flowers just because.  Seeing the toilet seat up everyday and letting it serve as a reminder you’re on a team.  The Good Enough Team.

Enough fantasy and speculation for one day.  I’m going to the Truck Driving Championships down the street!

The winds of change have steadily been blowing as of late.  Ya know, one thing I really enjoy about getting older is that you start to learn every struggle is a lesson, every joy is a gift, and that change is your true constant.  When life stops being an enemy you battle, every day is a good day.  Coming on the other side of a hard month, it’s a lot easier to look back and say these things.  Sitting in the depths of the tornado, not so much.  I guess that’s why when it settles down—the winds become breezes—I soak it up and thank God. 

I’m not going to dish or gossip but I will say there have been some things I know to be true.  First and foremost, I am not a good empathizer.  And in some ways, that’s awesome.  I don’t want to tell every friend “I know how that feels” when, in fact, there is no way I know how it feels.  What I CAN say is that if you are hurting then I am hurting.  I think it’s awesome to have that realization but it can also kind of stink when your friends need you to see the situation directly from their own eyes and heart.  I feel like a failure in that area but it’s all I got right now. 

There’s much more to say but I’ve written two articles tonight and I’m wiped out.  Goodnight.

I remember getting dropped on a curb in Brooklyn and being overwhelmed. But I looked over and saw the skyscrapers and the city of dreams and knew it was the start of a giant adventure that I couldn’t back down from. My driver came in a Prius and off we went. Along the way into Manhattan he told me about his venture from Russia to the US and having kids. He told me where he was 9/11 and his daughter was on a plane and he was just blocks from the World Trade Center. He still gets emotional thinking about it. After he dropped me at 48th & 7th I was completely lost. I must have spent half an hour trying to figure out which direction to go. I walked those two blocks a hundred times. And passed the hotel up at least twice. Carting around giant luggage. I had been up about 30 hours at this point I think. It was 2-3pm.

I got up to my room with all intention to nap. But I opened the blinds and there it was. Endless possibility stared at me from every building and the beautiful May day around me. I brushed my teeth, changed my underoos, & went to just get a piece of pizza from the place next to the hotel. But I walked past it. There was another spot around the corner. And then I turned and saw Times Square ahead. I walked as fast as any New Yorker that day. There was more in those four blocks around the hotel than in Sherman and the Coast combined. But I loved watching the people most of all. They all had a story. I could feel the energy of them all around me. They were part of my biggest dream and happiest day even though it was just another day for most of them.

That day I had hope. And nothing was impossible. I loved life. I felt the universal pulse and knew I had purpose. I walked blisters on my feet and then kept going. I went inside a two story CVS for blister band aids and slapped them on and still kept going.

On that particular day I was doing the world good, my friendships were in tact, my bank account was fat, I was proud to be me, my hair wasn’t thinning, and I didn’t really care that I was fat. I want to bottle that feeling and sip from the flask every damn day. I want to not give a damn about the blisters on my feet and just keep moving. I want the feeling that God is carrying me; it was effortless to feel awesome. Adventure was at every corner. The world was loving me back that day I hit NYC. I wish I could feel that way again and then pass it on to everyone else.

best cover of this song

Acceptance is everything in this world. Everything happens in its own time. I’ve said that before but it’s really REALLY nice to believe it so much that you have inner peace. So this is faith, huh? It feels nice. I have often muttered many such platitudes with merely the hope of feeling better. You do become what you think. I’m glad I didn’t give up.

I’d love to moan about the details and lament how I messed something up. Instead, I sit back and I ask, “how did I get here?” For once in my life I am not going to panic or find a way to fix it temporarily. Relaxed and contemplating the last few years is much more insightful. When you look at this cross section of my life it’s almost predictable that when authentic and awesome finally showed up in my face I wouldn’t see it and couldn’t accept it.

I’ve been fighting fate and trying to wrestle the Universe for several years. Tricky is the art of knowing when to fight and when to lean in and just go with it, dropping all resistance. I fought way too many times when I should have just let it go and stayed on course with what I can do in the moment.

Today, I’m leaning in to life. No more pushing against the winds of change or trying to chart my course. Or worse, chart someone else’s to align with mine. It’s probably a biologically driven thing in some way. Inevitably faced with fear that the time span to reproduce is ending. Sure I have 6-7 years at least but I now understand how fast 6-7 years go by and before you know it a decade has passed. But going upstream with life and people is impossible. And draining. And desperate and unhappy. This is MY life. I will listen and learn. And be thrilled. Scouts honor.

So I’m gonna focus on me and being happy with what I do. Too much ignoring my own beauty. I write and I am starting to seek ways to make a living doing it. I collage and its therapeutic and relaxing for me. Maybe somebody will see some value in it and relate to the combination of images. If not, I have some cool things I made and lots of beautiful gifts. I get overwhelmed and scared about relationships so I’m bowing out quietly, hopefully with grace, for an indefinite time. This makes me happy. All it takes is that one time you take responsibility for royally screwing a good thing up. But I saw something beautiful in me. And the rest of me just needs some reflection and time to perfect the beautiful soul I was lucky enough to get! “And there ain’t nothing like regret to remind you you’re alive”-Sheryl Crow

If you should need me I’ll be doing what I do: laughing, collaging crazy images that somehow fit in my brain, writing about this beautiful ride, and loving this life. Taking proactive steps to sift through the endless number of layers inside me. And outside of me, accepting people and circumstances at face value. The panicked biological clock is just gonna have to tick itself to death and be ignored. When I am ready and not looking into someone’s eyes, I have no doubt that’s when an equally calm, lively, independent soul will cross my path. Life has a tendency to do that.

***I am starting to write a book for my future daughter. I had a thought last night. It went something like, “how did I end up like this? I never want my kids to make this mistake.” Viola, the idea took its hold on me. This is rough draft stuff so critique, review, praise away. But be honest always 🙂 **

Dear daughter of mine, you aren’t even a twinkle in my eye but I feel like I owe you this book my sweet baby girl. You’ve been with me since birth. Quick biology lesson, women come equipped with all their eggs and slowly we lose them starting in our teens. Month by month. Birth control has fooled my body most of my life. In other words, most of my eggs are still down there. I think that’s how it works. I believe that helps make you extra special. Along with a stellar mom, you have survived the process of natural selection which means you’re awesome. You’re also awesome just because you arrived.

Some might say your mom is a hot mess. Those people must have all their shit together. Lesson 1. Never gonna make everyone happy, don’t waste time trying, and NO ONE has their shit together. Oprah does, but it comes at a high price and priorities are different when you run the free world. If you interact with other humans-& I encourage you to do that-things get messy.

Mom is 34 now. That’s old in woman years. Somehow I thought you’d be here by now. Lesson 2. Don’t fight the Universe/God/Spirit; the more you fight it the harder it is to get on track. This is a new-ish lesson for mom. Hopefully by explaining in detail later in this book you can avoid some of the same regrets. While they are very few, they exist. I did the best I could with what I had at the time. However, at 34, that best is a lot better and what I have are lessons learned the hard way.

Not to say by reading about what I know I can spare you anything. You have to master the game and live your own life. However, I think I can guide you through some things less sloppily now and hopefully increase your happiness. And that brings us to Lesson 3. Be happy. Do what makes YOU happy. Find your passions and follow them. I don’t want you to have lots of money, fame, or an entourage. I want you to look up at the birds and down at the flowers and realize that’s what it’s all about. If your passion brings success-however you end up defining it-then YAY! Mommy likes tshirts, Chucks, & traveling so you can give me a big thank you with those kind of things.

Finally, let me express to you my undying love. You’ve been on my mind since I first held a baby doll. Not every day and sometimes not every year but in a way, always. I don’t care if you are gay, of mixed race 😉 or whatever special quirks make you feel different. In fact, I promise to love that about you. Mom is a basket of quirk so we’ll have a shit ton of fun. That’s one promise. We will spend a lot of time together at museums, listen to all kinds of music, read a million books, see a lot of different places, go on bike rides and hiking trails, and (only for you) we’ll visit the sea.

Should my physical body leave you earlier than I have planned, I will still be there sweetie as you do all of those things. You’ve been with me always. That will never change. I don’t want you to be angry or fight God. It is as it was meant to be. Everything big and small happens. It just happens, my love. There is nothing you can do but accept that. And once you do, a lot of peace can be found. And when you have peace, you are closest to God and wonderful things unfold in your life. Accept, embrace, and enjoy this life.

I know everything happens for a reason. I am learning the exact lessons that I need at the exact moment I’m supposed to. From the exact people I need to learn from. Doesn’t mean I can’t breakdown every now & again.

Willingness is a state of mental and emotional receptivity. 

The will is the controlling and directive faculty of the mind that determines consciousness and character. 

Willingness is a state of consciousness that allows the mental faculty to be infused with the will of the Divine.

  -Iyanla Vanzant

Yesterday one of my bffs asked me something to ponder: Go back to your happiest days with [insert name].  If a magical fairy [or some such power] had come to you, shown you how everything would end, would you trade the happy days to avoid the end?  Well, that was easy.  A big fat NO!  Despite the nastiness and hurt that showed up in my life at the demise of the relationship, the answer is still no.  Because the happy times were some of the best in my life.  So, why now, am I scared to show people the real me and be happy? 

I wish the end to the fear could come quickly but it cannot.  Real, meaningful change is a process.  Not a fast one either.  It’s developing new habits that become a way of life.  For example, my previous blog.  Yesterday I battled with the news reel in my head that judges me harshly.  Here’s a sample of what I hear:  “You’re a coward, ignorant, awkward, delusional, girl who fucks everything good up.”  It doesn’t come precisely that sharp and sometimes not all at once, but if you put it together that’s the chain of self-loathing holding me down.  And to stop it every single time and not accept it was a battle.  But, I’ve been in a really peaceful state the last few days and I wasn’t going to end it.  Not with the same old crap anyway.  But it will take the same thing today and the day after that and the day after that and the weeks and months after that to really form a new habit of letting myself just be.

But I sincerely want this change.  Serial dating is a wonderful thing to pass the time and never have to live your truest self.  Except when suddenly you are faced with someone who is true to themselves and others.  It’s like a mirror was held up to my soul by this person.  And I didn’t like what I saw.  I was dressed in flakiness, concessions [no, not popcorn!], and worst of all the truest self was hidden under the cloak of making others happy.  Once you strip those things away from your soul and look at your soul naked, then you can start a change.  Just like my outer shell being way more sexy these days, my soul has such beauty. 

I don’t want to sound vain but really I do have a beautiful soul if you ever get to see it.  It’s a happy soul full of encouragement, equality, and love.  It’s a soul who aims to change the world before it’s all done.  It’s a daydreaming and poetry writing kind of soul.  My soul is joyous and there’s always music emitted.  It’s appreciative and diverse.  It’s kinda business savvy and I’m not sure if that’s good.  It sees so very much and catches every detail, but has a tendency to turn it’s head.  But it saw.  You can’t take it back.  And I think that’s the part I have not nurtured and therefore it’s out of control.  It’s like Oprah says, when someone shows you who they are, believe them.  When my soul crosses others that aren’t good for it, it turns it’s head and continues to dance.  That’s all fine and dandy except you realize one day you’re dancing with a bunch of people who exhaust you.  And you didn’t want to dance with them anyway!

The worst kind of lie is to yourself; and self-inflicted wounds burn.  And the truth that brings you peace is the calm that soothes.  The yin and the yang.  Every layer of my soul is full of the yin and yang.  And once I find the balance, I can see deeper inside.  It’s really like an onion.  Or, like a bunch of happy meals with a prize at the end of each one.  [<—inner fat kid alert]  Enough of this pain and doubt I’ve been living in for God knows how long.  I’m getting off that ride.  I’m leaving the dance floor to go find the souls outside underneath the sun and the moon, in the VW van, getting high! Those are my kindred spirits!! 

And one final anecdote, a “friend” who borrowed at least a grand about a year ago and who has not repaid one cent NOR said hello NOR written at least a text to say “this is what’s going on” is suddenly wanting to go to the Quarter’s Dubstep Monday to have a drink and explain.   To that individual, who I know did not siphon through the above, all I have for you is a middle finger.  My Mondays ARE like living through dubstep from 8-5, screw living it after 5.  The time for explaining has long since past.  By not contacting me prior, you’ve explained everything you needed to.  And there you go.  An example of seeing someone for who and what they are.  Yes, I could use the money right now badly but since I doubt you have any, keep your explanations right where they are—there’s nothing you can say that would make us friends any longer.  Once I realized that, I was free.  Another layer of bullshit comes off the soul.  Now, keep calm & carry on folks. 

I had an AHA moment, as Oprah says. To use a school analogy, we always tend to think of judgment day as being our final exam at the end of a semester of life. It occurs to me that’s incorrect. Judgment is our midterm. That’s right, not the summary of what you know but rather the point when you’ve accumulated enough knowledge to be tested. Whether you pass or fail a midterm can definitely impact your final grade.

For me, that means literally to stop judging others. The stuff inside is so overwhelming that I find myself projecting it back into others undeserving of such criticism. And guess what? I don’t deserve that criticism from me either. The added pressure is frivolous and stifles much of the good. If I was kinder to myself and slowed down then I could see that just being me is enough. It’s an abundance, not merely “enough.”

I give myself a hard time all day every day. What I eat, how my hair looks, it’s thickness, how my stomach looks in jeans, the way I approach a problem at work, the words I used with someone, the way I chew, the fact my car is dirty, and it goes on and on and on. I judge me sooo harshly it’s almost amazing I get anything done. And it all adds up to an overwhelming sense that I am not good enough. Much less for anyone else but worst of all, for me. And if you aren’t happy with yourself you will never allow you to be good enough for another.

Amazingly we look to others to fill a void that they can never fill. That’s why it’s bad to think someone else can complete you–because it’s impossible; not just because it’s simply false. All those times your friends say “you can do better than him” or “you don’t need a man” isn’t a statement about your relationships it’s a statement about your dependency and giving away your power. The difference between need and want here is also important. When you need someone you are losing autonomy. A much bigger compliment to both you and another is simply to want them. Babies need their mothers, as adults we want our moms.

So I am gonna stop the reel of self bashing playing in my head and just love myself for who I am, the things I create, & the life I already have. It’s so much more than enough. And I am letting everyone else off the hook. No more judging based on my insufficiency. No more measuring so that I can feel like I can be equal. Being here with one another is the peer group, for better or worse LOL. Hopefully the last half of the semester is a breeze and filled with a lot of fun 🙂

Somewhere I have a list of qualities I want in a mate.  I made it after reading an article in Oprah magazine which encouraged said list-making activity. The point was to focus on the things you won’t compromise on and (I guess) to somehow figure something out about yourself.  It’s an okay exercise I suppose, but I am the kind of person who leaves room for negotiation in almost all areas.  Some people may be a bit too stringent with it and become settled with a way prospects MUST be and well let’s be honest, that will lead to some serious disappointment.  It struck me how odd it was that I would make a list of qualities for someone else to uphold—something I have no control over—yet not a list of things I aspire to be to said individual—something I DO have control over.  Buckle up, kids, here’s the impossible list of characteristics I want to bring to my relationship.  Expectations of someone else are futile if you don’t declare to bring the same level of excellence, right?  Anyway, I decided to start over with me being who I want to be before I go holding someone else up to a list I made in a moment of fantasy.

Lack Hypocrisy.  Look, if your hair in the bathtub and on the floor drives me nuts then my own hair laying about should be just as sinful in my mind.  Yet, it isn’t.  I hate hair off the head.  Mine included.  But I’ll overlook my own hair laying on the floor until someone else’s one single strand falls on a heap of my own and oh holy shit I come unglued!  Ludicrous and pretty hypocritical behavior I admit. I vow to try to resolve that somehow.  Is that a double standard?? I have several items that I can add to this category.  Moving on…

Be a Good Listener.  I’ll never be a great listener.  I have too many thoughts running through my own little brain to even keep up with them.  When others speak I immediately begin to react, feel, think, or just get images lit up inside my head.  However, I have been proactively seeking to improve my listening skills over the last year.  I have really stepped it up.  But it’s hard and I am certain it will require constant attention.  However, I vow to develop my mediocre skill set up to at least “good.”  I really want to hear you and your thoughts, feelings, and images if I want to spend time with you. 

Not Overanalyze You.  Whew, this just gets more and more difficult as I type.  I am an avid fan of details.  I can consume a person and their every little movement, accent, gait, and even cough.  Usually this means I eventually find something I dislike or that irks me.  Well, yesterday I was driving and checking my teeth for food when I realized my teeth aren’t as white as I want them.  I mentally added that to my long list of irritable qualities I have concerning myself.  Then I had a revelation: what if someone analyzed me as much as I pick on myself.  They’d come up with quite a hefty list of annoyances.  What if they judged me by that?  I thought, “Well, that’d be a lame ass person!”  Oh wait…I’m not lame and I do that.  Hmmm.  That didn’t feel so great.  So I vowed yesterday to not overanalyze someone and their quirks or imperfections.  In fact, I will embrace them.  Yes, embrace.  As in love them as much as I would have hated them.  Not easy but way less shallow.  Besides, my real problem is that I hold myself to an impossible standard which is why I have to find something to dislike—so that we’ll be equal.  That’s a whole other blog but obviously unacceptable for me or for The Man.  As the song goes, “let it be.”  If I’m gonna love or hate you, it will be for something more significant than nose hairs or cracking your knuckles. 

Encourage Interests Beyond Me & Interaction with Other Women.   The first part of that is pretty easy for me.  I have interests that I don’t want to include my man in and especially not constantly.  This blog as an example.  It’s my space (ha).  I might share, repost, or provide links to whatever might concern as still undetermined beau.  However, the only time I want a guest writer is the announcement of my funeral.  Seriously, stay out of my blog.  I am open to a creation of an our blog—that might be entertaining.  Having put my foot down and gotten on my little soapbox, he is free to set similar guidelines.  As a very random example, pretend said beau is an artist.  Boo, we ain’t EVER gonna have an exhibition of our collective work.  Choosing a font color is the extent of my artistic ability.  Do. Ya. Own. Thang.  And let me do mine.  It makes for more interesting conversation when we’re together, gives an outlet for personal expression, and gives me a damn break from your ass.  Having said that, I’ll go support my man in his endeavors, no matter how successful or not.  If it makes you happy, it makes me happy.  I am big proponent of this theory.  Which is why I challenged myself and added the last half, the interaction with other women part.  Having a cheater in my personal history, made me a jealous woman.  I guess lack of trust and jealousy go hand-in-hand?  Either way, it’s an ugly quality I disdain.  I don’t mean go on some dates, I just mean if women are included in the endeavor of your choice then I encourage it.  If not, find something that gives you a woman to chat with.  This has its advantages.  Men with lots of females friends—just friends & no agenda otherwise—tend to be better boyfriends.  My theory: they bounce ideas and problems off the females and therefore come around with some better thinking than had they gone and played basketball with the guys or whatever.  It’s just a theory.  But it also keeps your manners up to par and in a time of trial or tribulation, I have someone I can talk to who also knows the guy who may help me understand his perception clearly. I am aware she will not be my buddy—she’s his—but when my pals need some female counsel I try to be there and hope my man has the same.  Besides, I’ve learned the difference between intuition and imagination.  If my gut says it’s gone beyond friendship, we done. 

I think I am exhausted for one day.  To be continued.

I’ve spent a great deal of energy the last bit pondering what love cannot do. Luckily, as a born optimist, we ponder what love actually CAN do as well as the negative cannot. FYI Gen Y or whatever you are, cannot is one word not two. Point: Love cannot improve someone else’s grammar or spelling. Interesting enough, this brings up something I have also been spinning about in this wack brain: spelling and grammar.

I am making an inspiration wall in my bedroom for anyone who doesn’t check Facebook. I intentionally put up quotes with misspellings or “u” instead of “you.” Why? Because as I prepared it I realize I judge people pretty harshly on their use of the English language. And it hit me all at once: am I gonna miss the message by focusing on a missing letter? That might sound trivial but hardcore grammar nazis understand. Yes, I have missed whatever point people were trying to make (or worse, felt smarter and better) because they spelled something wrong, did a your/you’re, can not/cannot….. How sad is that?

See, I came to find value in myself growing up in being smart. Learning easily, quickly, and excelling in school. My brother was athletic and artistic. I was not. I had to find something and that’s just how it came to be in my head. There were plenty people smarter than me in school, but I ranked really high when I gave it minimal effort. Long story lengthened, that’s where I placed my “strengths” and fundamentals of who I was came to be on how super smart I was!

This served me well for quite some time! Career advancement? Mastered. But like I said, it also led to a certain degree of snobbyness. (Does anyone see what I did there?!!!) Anywho, it was unconscious and really, seriously hit me last week. Was I really going to judge someone on their writing to make me feel better about who I was??? No. As soon as it hit me I knew I needed to pay attention to this flaw. It’s amazing.

So what love CAN do is reach somebody and deliver a message they wanted/needed to hear or reinforce in their head. I must master the lesson but love delivered it. What love CAN do is humble someone and make them appreciate things. What love CAN do is take the tiny cracks in people and fill it with something valuable and good. What love CAN do is remind you we’re on the same journey–like it/believe it or not–and you don’t ever have to be alone. What love CAN do is make you smile when you are tired and calm you down so that you can make the best decision yourself. These things I witnessed and lived firsthand. I shall try to find more of what love CAN do today. <– now watch the test I'm about to get!!!