Imperfection

I have spent some time reading over my past blog posts and I can see a re-occurring theme...

I write a lot about discovering who you really are.  I wonder why that is so important for me to reveal.

I keep looking at myself in a mirror trying to discover something that I can't quite seem to capture.  I should just walk away but I am too obsessed in getting to the bottom of this mystery.

What happens when you learn something about yourself but you don't like what you see?  Is it self-reflection or is it self-hate.

You are always blaming me but I am always blaming myself.  It is just how it is.

I read a blog today about perfect imperfections and it made me think.  There is so much of my world that is imperfect and I am sure I could provide a very extensive list if you asked but no matter how imperfect my life is...isn't it just perfect for me?

Just when I feel like I have control everything starts to spiral away from me~ I really should just learn to accept it~ but the mere thought of conforming makes me want to keep delving deeper...

Is it possible to go too far?

I am feeling empty today but I have no one to blame but myself...my path, my choice...isn't that what I keep telling you~

Gratitude

I want to take a moment and thank you...for coming here and reading my blog. 

I know I say I write this just for me...but I will let you in on a little secret~ I have figured out that I am really doing it for the both of us...

I do write for myself because it helps me make sense of the world around me but I also have to come clean and admit that I enjoy that you are reading my words~ even if they just make you roll your eyes, it is nice to know I created a reaction in you...

I might not be able to make a big splash in the world but knowing that I can create a tiny ripple that really means something to someone else...is really enough for me to smile.

Thank you for walking with me on this journey~ I hope I can inspire you to create a tiny ripple of your own too~

Consuming

Hate is a pretty powerful thing but I am not sure you understand how much it really only hurts you...

When someone wrongs you, what do you do?  Don't your defenses begin to protect you...you build a wall. 

You retreat into the place you feel the safest and you start preparing for the war.  You stockpile as many weapons as you can to use against the one you hate. 

You are constantly thinking about your strategy to win. 

You may lose sleep, eat less, and even start spreading the seed of this persons  transgression to everyone because you think this may provide them protection~

You ultimately become consumed with the idea of this person's wrongdoings...the seeds of hate are growing strong in you...and you are blinded by this hated~ it has changed your entire world and you are surrounded in the darkness...

The person that caused all of this...they are living their life in the sun, smiling~ guilt-free for in their mind they have done nothing...all this only affects you...all the hurt and pain you are creating gives them the ultimate victory...and you handed it to them on a silver platter of hate~

The Toolbox

Recently I was asked to write about a nostalgic moment as a nod to "Throwback Thursday". 

When I was younger, I would spend a lot of my summers with my grandparents in Oklahoma.  They lived in a small rural town.  If you stood at one end of town and spit...you would probably hit the other side of it~

There was no glamour in my grandparent's old run-down property but it was filled with old treasures sealed behind cobwebs and rust just waiting to be discovered.

The thing my grandfather loved to do the most was go night fishing and when he went he always asked me to go with him. 

My grandfather would set out a container of chicken livers for days until it was completely covered in flies, because other than roadkill, it made the best bait for catfish'n. 

After the sun retired for the night, we would slip into his old ford pickup and head for his "favorite" fishing holes.  He didn't believe in wearing seatbelts and I remember holding on for dear life as the truck bounced across craters in the red dirt.

We would fish in the darkness of the night with only the moon and the occasional lightning bug illuminating the pond, We would sit in total silence for hours waiting for the catfish to bite.  Above all things, my grandfather taught me patience~and how to clean a catfish of course...

Before my grandfather passed, he gave me an old rusty red toolbox that he used as a tackle box,  For me,  when I think about my past...that toolbox is the thing that makes my heart smile the most~