Stop Pissing Me Off

Wow, the last two days people have been totally pissing me off.  Seriously?  I'm typically a nice person, patient and accepting.  In business I'm a defuser.  I can defuse those like Ms. McSnippy Bitchy Pants, even though it does stress me out.

For instance, I'm currently sitting on the board for an awesome organization full of "the government should pay us, but wait we hate the government, but they fucking owe us" hippies.  The board is full of apathetic losers who couldn't give a rats ass.  They do nothing but sit with their thumbs up their asses at board meetings.  So when the communications committee, which I chair (lucky me) was directed to plan the executive director's retirement dinner I thought "of course, no problemo".  Famous last words because none of these lazy fucks have done anything (including my committee).  Yep, I've once again been roped into doing the whole thing with no help from fucking anyone and they want to raise $15k off the event for an endowment and spend $500 on a stupid memory book.  Yeah, stupid cuz I just spent all morning scanning in photos that are terrible.  I would never put these in a "memory book", but I don't fucking care anymore.  These asstards can have it but I am in no way, shape or form, fronting the cost of it cuz you know all these lame ass motherfuckers aren't going to lift a finger to recoup the cost.

To make matters worse the ED and his nutso wife are the biggest control freaks EVER.  This woman can't send a short and concise email to save her life, most likely because she doesn't understand the meanings to those words.  So far, thanks to the ED's crazy town USA wife, we're three weeks behind.  Fucking awesome.  Guess who gets blamed for this shit.  ME.  That's right, ME!  The only one who clearly gives a flying fuck at all.  And that is my problem.  I actually give a rat's ass about stuff in this life.  When I make a commitment I don't just sit back and wait for others to do the work, NO, I actually get my shit done. 

I am supposed to be president of the board but I have a big surprise for these stupid, lazy, poor excuses for human beings.  When this event is over I'm GONE!  I'm done.  I've decided to clean my personal house and that includes anything that doesn't feel right and this definitely qualifies.  This board is showing that they CAN'T do fundraising, and guess what?  It's not my fucking fault, losers!  Good luck!

Then there's the male stripper or bartender, or whatever else you do to wind up at the store with $100 in $1 bills.  I was a bartender/waitress for eight years and there's one thing you learn when you cash out at the end of the night, you fucking make an exchange!  Why take home ones when you can get twenties?  Unless you're a guy who desperately needs to stuff his pants with something fat cuz his penis ain't and at least money attracts the chics.  News flash - No one wants to stand behind you at the grocery waiting while you're dumb, but very pretty, ass counts out $76.80 in fucking $1 bills like a first grader.  For real?  Get a clue.

Oh, I could go on.  It's like the universe suddenly decided to shit on me the last 48 hours and I'm probably best staying away from ALL society until this resolves itself.  Until then, it's Noon on a Tuesday and there's a glass of wine sitting on my desk waiting to take away all this unnecessary stress and misery. It makes me want to sit and eat McDonald's and Dunkin Donuts all day long, but that would completely go against BFF and I's commitment to eating better and losing some lbs.

Note to self: be filled with much less hatred tomorrow.

Quote(s) of the Day

"A Jedi must have the deepest commitment, the most serious mind. This one a long time have I watched. All his life has he looked away... to the future, to the horizon. Never his mind on where he was. Hmm? What he was doing. Hmph. Adventure. Heh. Excitement. Heh. A Jedi craves not these things. You are reckless!" - Yoda

Yes, I quoted Yoda.  Shut up!!  Got hooked into the Star Wars marathon this weekend - damn it!  Gosh, I love those movies.  So many deep meanings and undertones.  Anyhoo! 

Since making the decision to move, which makes me so happy, I'm starting to not live for today but for tomorrow, what's to come.  It's so easy.  It's so easy to begin fantasizing about what will and could become even when it's months down the road.  At least I realize where I'm at, what I'm doing and can consciously stop myself from losing everything; dropping the ball on the responsibilities I have in this moment - the here and now.  And I've been guilty of doing this for as long as I can remember - always dreaming of what I want.  One of my favorite things as a child.  But, if you spend too much time dreaming you'll never get the things done that will get you to that place.  

I've waited for this epiphany to happen for so long, it's hard not to get excited.  I'm telling close friends slowly, and told my parents this morning.  How can you not get excited about redefining your life; starting over and knowing what you want this time around?  It's really fucking hard!  Besides, it's exciting now, but it will lose it's shiny newness at some point.  And then, something else fun will happen.  So, I'll help you if you help me to continue living in the moment; the here and now, and we'll all get to where we're meant to.

"For some strange reason, no matter where I go, the place is always called 'here'".- Ashleigh Brilliant

and for a some other sage words of advice and kickass quotes on happiness and faith, you've got to check out And This Is What She Said .

The Killing Field(s)

I've lived in my apartment for a long time - almost a decade - and I have never ever before experienced the amount of disgusting bugs that have found their way into my place.  It has been a hot summer here in Chicago and apparently even they are trying to escape the heat.

Yesterday I went to take the trash out.  The door was open for a few seconds both out and back in.  Before I knew it there was a massive swarm of flies in my apartment.  Sure, I was nice and gave the few smart ones a chance to exit, and they did.  Then it was smack down time for the rest of them.  I mean it was WAR!

I folded up a magazine and started swatting the shit out these fuckers.  They were in my blinds - bad move, kids.  You trapped yourselves.  Swat, swat.  Their blood was on my hands now and I was hungry for more.  Swat, swat. They were in my curtains - my curtains are white.  I'm not about to stain them with fucking fly guts.  I swatted for what seemed like eternity and counted only about 10 dead on the battlefield, also known as my living room.  Much to my surprise, it seems they multiplied during the battle.  What the...?  I could feel the anger boiling and my cheeks flush from the heat.  World War III was about to break out in my apartment!!

I left and went to the store for a big ass bottle of wine  some conditioner and stopped in the insecticide aisle.  Yep, flying bug spray killer.  PERFECT!  You fuckers are out of luck.  I came home and sprayed my curtains - what a lovely scent this stuff has.  It didn't smell like death at all!  Next thing I know those little shits are dropping like, cough, flies.  They either dropped immediately or fell to the floor where they spun around in the throws of death.  Yes!  Satisfaction!

In the midst of the battle, Meow Mix decided to walk over and sit right in a place I had just sprayed several fly fuckers to death.  Great!  My determination diverted for a moment, I picked kitty up and washed her paws.  That shit's killing those fuckers for a reason.  Don't need Meow Mix to meet that same fate.  I'd be heartbroken.  With that said, she's usually a very good fly huntress.  In fact, I think she rather enjoyed their invasion.  As she laid on the couch, every now and again her paw would slip out and bat at a fly or three.  Clearly, Meow Mix has proven that she isn't willing to work for her kibble anymore, but rather prefers to be waited on hand and paw my yours truly.  (She's so cute though, you'd do it too!)

When I finished with kitty I looked at the battlefield and started sweeping up the remains.  I counted 30.  Yes, I said THIRTY flies tried to invade the peaceful land of Epiphany.  Gross!  That deserved a LARGE glass of wine.

Four survived the attack.  Two decided to escape this morning as soon as I opened the door.  Can't blame them. I wouldn't want to stay in my place either with the scent of death, aka Raid "now with a fresh scent" lingering in the air.  The remaining two I've given immunity.....for now.  We'll see how long they last, buzzing around and pissing me off. 

I've washed every sprayed surface and, now, burning incense to remove the stink of death that is on my hands and continues to linger in my cute apartment.  Just hoping God, the universe and/or karma don't punish me for the death and destruction I've imparted.  I have fears of "Tales from the Crypt", especially the guy who was so obsessed with being clean and then was attacked and eaten by roaches.  Sssshhhivveerrssss.

I've also learned that this spray, while specifically branded for flying bugs, also works on the big nasty ass spiders on my back deck.  I hate spiders.  I mean I really, really hate those ugly, creepy, nasty looking fuckers.  DIE!

The sign on my door now reads:  Bugs beware.  Enter at your own peril.  This is not a safe haven but death row.

Once, I Was Going to Be a Superstar

It's funny how life never quite turns out the way you thought it would. I do believe it's one of the few surprises we have, anymore, is not knowing what will happen. And, while I've actually been quite frustrated and feeling like I have no direction, an itch I can't scratch and absolutely no control over my destiny, it is suppose to be exciting.

When I was younger, I imagined myself a high-powered business woman in the corner office. Sure, I knew I'd work a lot of hours and make sacrifices but they were worth it. I'm a child of the 70's. The ability to imagine and make that happen is gianormous! I was raised to believe I could achieve it, be strong, independent and an overall bad ass if I wanted to, and I really wanted it, too, even through college. A friend and I talked often about the marketing agency we were going to set up and make the world turn on its heels. Yeah, I wanted it so bad I could taste it.

Obviously, it never happened. She returned to dancing, became a mother and wife and gave up the marketing industry, which is just as well because it's crazy and overwhelming everyday. I, on the other hand, continued that drive until recently.

When I first moved to Chicago I worked at a huge, international marketing firm and I loved walking out of my building on to Michigan Avenue lined with lights and thousands of passerbys. Every time I opened the door, stepped out, took a deep breath and looked up at the lights and the buildings I felt like Mary Tyler Moore. No joke. I felt so alive and happy, and I was going to become a powerful, but kind, successful business woman. Over time, though, I watch the head of the Chicago office. She was in her 50's, never married (except to the job), never had children, made a lot of money, worked late every night including Fridays, had a big job, but was that what I really wanted? Her life was work; the agency. I loved it, but I'm one who defines myself as so many more things.

I've worked really hard, and continue to do so, committed, or I should say totally over-committed to everything I'm involved with from running my business to outside pursuits. By the time I started my own business I realized that the idea of being able to be a power player in the corner office, manage a family, relationship, happy home, friends and family, was truly impossible.

Over the years, I've been offered those kinds of jobs and I've turned them down. Why? Because I felt like if I was going to work 12 hours a day, or more, like I do now, I want it to be from the comfort of my own home, not an office that I might as well move into and make my home, cat and all. What is the price of happiness? For me, yeah, maybe I should have done it to have a better financial situation but, arrogantly (I suppose), I felt a lifestyle was more important. Isn't that what everyone is seeking today? It's that balance of doing what you like, enjoy and even love from the comfort of your home, with discipline and tremendous success while maintaining relationships, working out and having a life. Foolishly, I thought that I could still be a superstar with my business. I still do in some ways because I know my industry inside and out, know what I'm doing and provide affordable services to small businesses, but, after all of these years it's just not the case.

Why do some people achieve this superstar status and others don't? What's the secret? What I do know is some people just have better luck...Trust me, I've looked into "The Secret", the power of attraction, motivational speakers and their checklists and more. I don't know what that magic elixir is, but the super stubborn side of me wants more than ever to find it; to not quit until I've done all I can - maybe I've run dry and not realized it.

Last night I actually thought about ending all of what I've created over the last 10 years and taking the corner office (so to speak) in my grasp. Somehow I just feel like I'd only be doing it for the money, but ironically, money would provide me what I need to discover more of what I want to do (however not the time), what makes me happy and to knock down my personal stumbling blocks. That SUCKS! And it's the truth. A fucking Catch 22.

I've always had faith that things would come to me, and they do. However, it's like I can't have everything at once. And I believe we're all where we're supposed to be to get to the next level, but at my age, looking at "the next level", well, let's just say it ain't anything worth writing home about.

In this pondering, I've noticed that everything coming to me, at the moment, is keeping me right where I am - more business, powerful contacts met - so I wonder if it's finally going to take off and what I feel is missing is a completely different aspect of my life, or if it's all a hoax . For now, I am where I am, not really a superstar, but I hope my friends and family think I am. Meow Mix certainly thinks I am, especially when I rub her belly. I am going to do what I can with what's presented in meditation and in chance. I'll let you know.

The List: My Own Take 1

Dear Diane*,

I love and miss you and know that you and hubby are working on very important things like making babies, however, would really like to talk and discuss the list. Don't leave me hangin' babe! LOL Until you and hubby have completely exhausted one another, I will move forward with my own synopsis of the list one by one.

Love,
E


The first item on the list of things that make me happy is music. I love music. It's what makes the blood flow through my veins. I love to sing and used to a great deal of performing. I equally love to dance, and appreciate all kinds of music....even some rap, but not for the lyrics as much as the beats, rhythms and...sounds. It just makes me so....happy.

This week I've been working on a CD mix (remember Mix Tapes? I was the Master!) for friend's party. I looovveeedd working on it. Picking the music then selecting the order - there really are rules to this in order to make it sound just right. Every song flows easily into the next as if they were made to be played alongside one another. And, of course, you have to set the tone for the occasion. The best part, is handing the CD over, wrapped and tied with a bow (the most inexpensive, thoughtful gift, I think, you can give anyone) and waiting for the moment they slide it into the CD player. The moments of anticipation just tick away until the first song is played. Then "I love this song" gooshes from the recipient as the CD continues. Music brings such happiness and people love my CDs because they know I made it just for them.

I miss it. I miss singing. I miss writing music and lyrics. I miss performing. I was given a gift and have done relatively nothing with it. Sure, I've been given other gifts and talents, but this one....it makes me feel so alive.

During the day there are often times when I just have to sit down and zero in on getting a project done. It's during these times when I tune into my Jango.com account or rock out to my own play list. It gives me energy and I love everything about it from singing Gregorian chants and classical to rock and country. There's nothing like it. Nothing can feed my soul the way music does. And maybe, I sing on my own time and find a group, and maybe the rest of my life is spent appreciating the nuances in music that others don't catch and teach them about it - hopefully without looking like the big nerdy musical geek that I am.

It's the tops on the list so I know one thing - I've got to find away to sing and release that desire to do so pent up inside of me. I don't really care much about being a famous musician, rather I've always thought of my gift as an instrument to share incredible works of music for others to enjoy. Maybe that's being too modest (another thing I'm trying to give up - love my fam but not so grateful to have been raised SO MODEST! A little "I'm really great" never hurt anyone), but it is something I do believe as a musician. Others, just do it to feed their ego. I was pretty comfortable with myself to begin with and compliments...well, I'm still learning to be appreciative.

I'm hoping that this list doesn't now lead to creating another list for each item on the list. What did I just say? Yeah. While lists are my sanity in day-to-day life, I think more lists will just overwhelm and shut me down! Until my next post in a few days, I am going to try and sing more, even if it's just in my shower, which has great acoustics!

Quote of the Day

Thanks to the BFF for this one:

"Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky." ~Rabindranath Tagore

The Pursuit of Perfection

Perfection. It's an interesting word. What is perfection? Is it about being the best or just perceived as being and having the best? Is it about being the best you can be in every moment?

My good friend Webster defines it as : 1. the quality or condition of being perfect (defined as lacking nothing essential); 2.the act or process of being perfect; 3. one considered perfect. The thesaurus adds in the word virtue.

So, if you lack a lot of essentials in your life yet live with virtue, can you still be perfect?

I know it's crazy to think about perfection. No one is perfect. In fact, everyone has a different definition of perfection. You may have a perceived perfect and blessed life like my best friend Dawn*, but at the same time she is open and aware of her own imperfections. Is perfection achieving what is fed to us by the media (i.e. look like Angelina Jolie or having certain things), or how we define it individually and the pressure we put on ourselves to achieve it? Either way, the pursuit of it can make you a little crazy. I know.

In this life there are few things one can actually control like:

• presence - style, makeup and hair (although mine's been a bit out of control)
• what you eat/weight - need to work on
• clean home
• your actions/reactions towards others - who you want to be v. who you are
  
• your performance - work, etc.
• how you use your time
• how many glasses of wine I will have today (3, thanks!)
• how many times will I blog today
  
• what you do with the blessings you receive
• going out and trying/doing what you love
• who I will call on the phone
  
• and a few others
  

I like to think that I can control other certain things, but I really believe it's just that "the stars align" with the right moment and you're openness to receive. Like when I show up to the bus stop and the bus appears within just moments of my arrival. That is perfect to me. In reality, most things, you can't control and it's really frustrating. It's frustrating when you know what you can be if given more opportunities...but one can't determine or just wish them to come along. Not in this economy.

The pursuit of perfection is something I think about a lot, actually. It's easy, really. When things happen that are out of my own control, I become Mr(s). Clean and my apartment is perfection! Floors washed, everything in its place, totally organized (and let me just say I'm not very messy), no dishes in the sink and toilet....sparkling! It feels good to have order and a sense of perfection in my home, my work and even in working out. I'm not really sure where this strong desire for and absolute sense of perfection was born, but there's safety in it. Oddly enough.

My best friend Dawn* seeks perfection and order, albeit at a much, much higher level than mine! Everything has its place. Her home is beautiful and always clean. She is always dressed well and looking stunning. Everything is done....perfectly. Coasters are always used, and, as much as I love her, I'm often worried I will put something in the wrong place, or mess something up. It is, ironically, one of the many reasons I adore her. Even though I may feel this way at times, I completely appreciate where she's coming from. Perfection is order.

Dawn* and I often discuss our varying need for order, or control, and the pursuit of perfection and I've come to believe it's not because we're crazy or neurotic, but that its tough to let go. It's hard to just walk in blind faith everyday. We have to feel as if we control some things in our lives whether it's keeping dishes out of the sink, making your bed everyday, staying organized in work, writing an error-free report, or keeping a clean car. And, while we actually do have control over many things and choices we make, there are the bigger things that we just don't have any control over. Some philosophers would say these are the things that keep life interesting.

The pursuit for perceived perfection could, in some ways, be blamed for why so many Americans are in debt, living beyond their means, in homes they can't afford, buying cars and toys for their kids. They want others to believe their lives are perfect in the perfect neighborhood. This perception of perfection is wealth.

You could say that this pursuit of perfection has even led me to start and live through this blog. In some respects, I'm seeking perfection in my own life and its future. I feel as if I should have this, that and the other; that I should be this kind of person to have and be loved; that I should have a more lucrative career; sometimes, that I should be someone else. That I should be perceived as one who pursues perfection and virtue in all things. And, moreover, that I deserve it.

It's a tricky thing living life, but throw in the unknown variables and it becomes that much more. The truth is that the pursuit of perfection leads us not just to controlling certain aspects of our life, but to having and being what we feel others define as perfection. We want to be seen as having it all, being it all and living it all. It's not enough just to feel perfect in our own imperfect and fabulous lives.

So, with dishes in the sink, my bed unmade and mail spread across the dining table, today, I begin the path of defining my own perfection. It's more than a clean house, it's being me. Living fully as the unique and imperfect person in which I was created. And I promise, to never judge anyone else's perfect life.

A Wasted Week

I hate this time of the month, for obvious reasons as most women do, but for me, in particular, I am exhausted. For about five days I am just so freaking tired. I wake up after nine hours sleep...tired.

It's an impossible feat to get through the day. Even after I tap my arsenal of teas, Vitamin B, almonds, Ginseng and attempts to "power through it", I still want to curl up on the couch at Noon and take a nap. Even now...I've been up for awhile but feel it's time to lie down again - it's 9:30a. On top of it, I can't think - which is why some of these post will be shorter. It's like the words forgot how to form in my mind and on my lips. It's insane!

Yesterday I fought through it HARD. At the end of the day, I finally decided to take a walk. I felt alive for about 10 minutes and then....head on pillow, legs folded underneath on the couch, out cold.

And of course, there's the inevitable day where I will be annoyed with everyone and everything. I have realized that I can be pretty brutal. So, apologies to any sales and customer service people I might deal with - I don't tend to talk to friends, loved ones or basically anyone I care to keep in my life on this day. You have no idea what's coming at you from the other end of the phone - pure hell. There's nothing you can do to make the situation better, so don't try. It's almost best if I simply shut down on this day than to impose my craziness on anyone.

It wasn't always like this for me. Sister1 told me to pay attention in my 30's as "certain things will change", and they have. As if a slower metabolism wasn't enough, now I'm crazy! I guess I could have it a lot worse. I'm not exactly the woman in "I'm Gonna Get Ya Sucka" who, at special times of the month, turns into Medusa, fire shooting out of her eyes. However, when you're already trying to find the energy every day to stay excited and keep moving forward, this feels like a set back. A set back of five days....not rollerblading, not feeling alive and excited for the next phase of my life to unfold, not getting the things done I've promised I would. My "To Do List" seems to be growing exponentially this week. A wasted week...excuse me, I have to go lie down now.

Sisters!

Shwew!!! I survived the weekend with sister1 and husband. It was a true whirlwind, but fun and I do love them. I can say that I am thoroughly exhausted! I can also say that I had a vodka martini slip and told my brother-in-law that I was really hurt by sister1's comment to me....he couldn't believe she said it.

Sister1 and I spent more than half our lifetime as practical strangers. She is seven years older than me and hated life so much that she didn't want to participate in mine for fear of remembering her hell. As a little girl, Sister1 was the only babysitter I would allow near me. I fondly remember a time when the babysitter couldn't get my pj's on, so Sister1 came in and told me to jump up and down on the bed to get my pants on. She was also the only one who could feed and hold me. Throughout the years we became more distant. I followed my path and she wanted to get away from all of us as fast as possible.

She did have her great moments like when Sister2 was supposed to take me to a movie and then stood me up to hang out with her friends. Sister1 called and asked if I wanted to go to the horse show. I was thrilled. She was, despite it all, always there. Sister2 never really supported me in all the things I was involved in, but Sister1 was always there. In my early 20's, Sister1 and hubby moved closer to my college town and I began going to their house for dinner. It's like having a new friend and discovering who they are. It took a few years, but since then we've been very close. We've helped each other become better people. We make time to visit one another....but something has changed.

The hardest part for me with my sister is that she is so closed minded. This weekend was Pride fest and I knew there was no way I would take them or even consider introducing them to "the girls" (read: boys). Both of them are so anti-gay and I think it's more because they have never met one or opened their heart to one to understand rather than simple disdain. It's easy to be afraid of the unknown. Sadly, "the girls" are great people and good friends to me, and disheartening that they will probably never meet these friends. It's ironic, too, because sister1/hubby both say that they are Christians and yet they are so judgmental. I believe it's our job to love everyone, open our hearts to as many people as possible - to spread the love of Christ - and He will do the judging. In turn, we'll be judged on our ability to walk the path.

My sister even chooses to judge me. Somehow she makes me feel like I am an irresponsible kid who knows nothing, and, of course, I understand that only you can allow someone else to make you feel this way. Without a doubt, I'm positive that if my life were on a track with some kind with financial stability, a house, husband and child that she would not do this - or make me feel this way. Yet, I have to learn to get to this place without these stabilities. Much like my father, there is a sense of disappointing her. I really need to let it go. Let go of how I think people think of me, how I think they will feel about my choices and start living for me - without abandonment.

I have daddy issues. My sisters and I all do. It's interesting and sad that sister1 has so much disdain for my father, yet she is the most like him, and becoming more so everyday. He is a challenging man, always has been, and even more challenging as he becomes a grumpy old man who doesn't feel well. She is starting to mimic some of this behavior....at the ripe old age of 43. He was a dictator of some sorts growing up but a great problem solver who, despite not listening any other time, could, if need be, really listen and help you mull over important decisions and problems. His heart, while often selfish, was mostly in the right place - but more on him later.

I worry most that sister1, after years of avoidance, will never fully rectify with herself these issues of hatred, dislike, fear and annoyance for my father. Instead she continues to carry them around, becoming (unaware) more and more the exact mold of him. That's a long lifetime and a heavy burden. She is so clearly angry and unhappy, almost the "victim" - like my dad - in life. I don't know how she can carry it around with her day in and day out, moment by moment.

Sister1 is lucky to have her hubby. He is the best. They balance one another. He is always loving, fun and upbeat, even when she's a kill joy. The one thing she and I have in common - we're really good at beating ourselves up.

I've chosen to deal with my "daddy issues" and find a way to interact with him that makes our time together far more enjoyable. I wish she could do the same, but she gets pissed every time I give her suggestions. If she chooses to carry this hatred in her heart for a lifetime, there is nothing I can do. I simply pray that she will find peace. If she is unable to do so I fear that it will forever alter our relationship. With that said, I have become very adept at one-sided relationships, especially with family. I always cater to them and they never want to hear the truth of what I have to say, so I keep it all inside...festering away until one day I explode. It's not worth it, and so God, instead, gave me the idea for Finding Epiphany.

I won't often "beat the bible" here (it's not really my approach), but it is important to understand this side of me in the hunt for my Epiphany, and even yours. I am a person of faith - and you can determine whatever that higher power is for you - for me it's God. I also believe in the power of energy, aka the universe or karma - that there is a balance. It's easy to have faith in one aspect of your life, but when all of it seems out of whack, you want to try and take control rather than just live in the moment and have faith, or allow the universe to work in your favor. The one thing I know is that God has a plan for me, for each of us, that is greater than we even think we're capable of achieving. You have to keep your eyes, ears and heart open to be lead and then act.

Faith is not easy, nor for the faint of heart, but it works when you can let go. There in lies the trick...stop trying to control and let go. For me this blog is a release of thoughts and emotions clogging up my flow of faith and the positive energy around me. Allowing those thoughts to swirl around in your head can make you crazy. It reminds me of when I was a little girl and had a bad dream. My parents always said that if you say what the dream was out loud that you'd never have it again, and they were right. I want peace of mind and personal fulfillment in this short life. Unfortunately, we have to carry the baggage with us, but we don't have to unpack it.