Response to an I Believe Essay

Although growing up as woman of diverse race is not a reality I can empathize with, Women’s Rights movements have imposed such identity issues within my own life throughout the decades. In the younger years, my mom and grandma were instilling etiquette and mannerisms for the next session of Housewife 101; the clean house, perfectly maintained kitchen appuratice that produced delectable dinners at the hands of a world class chef submissive and the well behaved children responding only with a “Yes, M’am” and “No, Sir” respectful tone were the basics of such brutal training I endured all while observing the submissive wife of noble characteristics that would prompt top of the class graduation.

As the rights became more prevalent and accepted, these expectations were not discarded but rather multiplied with additional duties, supplying income. Keeping up with Jones’ the cliché that best describes the facade of perfect little family and the expectations placed on women to provide for the extra’s such as inviting landscape to the family game night beginning 30 minutes past rush hour, little Johnnie’s club team of All*Stars, and let’s not forget the Sunday morning dress clothes that elevate status among the righteous ones.

These are just a few generational changes that have impacted women’s identity in which I can relate with Phyllis Allen, author of Leaving Identity Issues to Other Folks. It was humbling to read as I felt guilty for having such identity issues, after all, I did not have skin color to define further acceptance. Although I agree with her mom’s advice to be the best you can be, I also believe there is more to it than that. I believe while being the best we can be, our measurement of success should come from our reflection and acceptance of Christ. For this reason, the essay was bittersweet; I could relate, yet I could not. I believe that is what drew my attention to her writing and experience yet walked away with a humbling gratitude for not being given anymore than I could have handled, judgment based on color.


http://thisibelieve.org/essay/26/ - Essay by Phyllis Allen, Leaving Identity Issues to Other Folks

The Beast...Leashed with Ball and Chain

Arguments happen, inevitable and a part of life, between many who love and many who don’t; why does the bickering become so loud and obnoxious? Health and Wellness would define the trivia as the health dimension of emotion, providing emotions are expressed correctly. Of course this leads to yet more questions: What is the correct emotion of anger? Or is it really anger? Is it a source of unhappiness? Sadly, I can’t answer these questions nor do I believe anyone else can. Each of us is created in the image of God and my understanding of His emotion regarding anger is wrath. Now granted, He tells us vengeance is His therefore such wrath also belongs to Him. He also tells us to not let the sun go down while angry or else the devil will gain a foothold. So He knows anger is a part of us and more questions arise…

When do we sleep? If the argument can’t be solved before the sun goes down and you find yourself in a circle of ongoing anger, if in fact it is anger, then you are headed for depression or anxiety that surely compromises health, as the lack of sleep and unsolved trial continues with each sun rise and sunset. Is it fair to say that righteous anger is not applicable to these situations? Someone may feel they have a righteous anger but that does not mean they view their self as better, perfect or even above another; it simply means they believe God has placed an answer within and the opponent can’t see. The credo one will claim is the foundation in which they take each step. Steps are not always seen by others; many times this is due to reverence for God’s instruction: don’t broadcast what the right hand is doing, if you “glory grab” on earth then you will have already received the reward. The way I understand this is simple, my acceptance comes from God and in my heart I know I’m walking with Him, not perfectly (no one does) so there is no need to broadcast the things I do for Him, regardless of others understanding.  Yes, I would like some recognition here and there because quite honestly its really hard to keep going without it…this may be where pride comes in, the exact opposite of humility. Don’t we all struggle with this?

If humility must play a part in the solution then righteous anger will fester long after the sun goes down, won’t it? What do we do with such emotion (again, is it actually anger?) Let’s pretend it isn’t anger at all…then what is it? Hurt feelings? A lack of self worth? In my case (at least in this stage of the journey), I believe it has everything to do with a caged animal. Anyone who has known me for any period of time would know I’m a prodigal son story over and over again. I’ve been one who fights with the free spirit dwelling within my veins and feeds the bloodstream with adrenalin that only a cage reinforced with steel, rebar, and concrete can remotely contain. It’s what my daughter and I like to refer to as “The Beast”. The Beast can be a source of strength when all seems lost and out of control. Many have tried to tame this beast, but the intellect of an animal is often underestimated. There have many times even I have tried to tame it, thinking God doesn’t like this animal. Come to find out, He does like it and has revealed the animal within, when leashed, can be a soldier for Christ that has no fear or consideration of “overload”. What happens when that leash feels like a ball and chain? This is where I am and no answers seem to be coming…

Square one: Is this anger? If so, is it righteous? If not, then how do I break free of the ball and chain that holds every limb of “The Beast”? Worse yet, what or who is the ball and chain? God, hold me in your hands, look into my heart, and reveal to me the answers I seek, no matter the humility I must face. Amen.

What if?

What began as a convenient way to integrate homework and needed time with a daughter quickly became an inspiration to this "chicken" (aka writer). Movie time with Beanie, pencil in hand and paper clipped to the board, I embraced the romantic chick flick: Letters to Juliet. I was taking notes in preparation of response writing. Little did I know, this event would take on yet another way God has encouraged fear conquering. It wasn't but 5 minutes into the typical "What if" scenario of screenplay I realized I am a chicken! I have given up dreams and "what if"s all my life, simply because I tested the waters and received a less than desirable response, so I ran (tripping all the way, mind you).

Boy meets girl in adolescence, both part ways across seas, find new lovers, birth generations and 50 years later wonder "What if?" Well, not everyone gets that happy ever after and quite honestly I'm not too sure I believe in such dreams. The viewing of such fairy tails do feed the female need for tears, giggles, and wishful escape on that whoas me kind of day, evening or week where sweets and carbs are the only thing caressing the high levels of estrogen. In case you were wondering, no I only had chips and salsa, because the end table was filled with left over fajitas. Of course, when ooooos and awwws are all said and done, one leaves this fairy tell ending with a reality check, a hope that tomorrow will be better and I won't get on the scales as surely I didn't eat enough calories for increasing measurements; but just in case, I will not tempt the anger trigger of downward spiral special effects of the next WW?? (what one are we on?).

The twist was encouraging, to say the least. I have always enjoyed writing; utilizing it many times as therapy session 101, anger management 415, escape from reality, chore skipping excuse, and last but not least the practice for the same dream all "wanna be" writers transforming to published authors of great masterpieces....WAKE UP!....yes I know, it's a dream BUT "What if?"

Sophia, the main character whom believed in happy ever after love, was a fact checker. So you can imagine the assistance she was in the cliche of first love reuniting 50 years later scenario. Trips across Italy to find 1 of 74 Lorenzo's for the dear Claire, whom wrote an advice seeking letter at age 15 (as if she knew what love was...ha!) and stuck it behind a rock along Juliet's Wall in hopes of response, were the beginning realizations of Sophia's dream, writer to author...and what a story she would tell.

Of course she fell in love too and her lover, Charlie, didn't let her go because of the phenomenon they witnessed along the adventure of seeking long lost love for Claire and Lorenzo's happily ever after story. Wow! surprising I know. The flick had it's unique scenes and funnies worthy quoting, efforts of the obtaining the original goal, bonding with Beanie (Minnie Me).

Beanie (Sabrina as she corrects), is the daughter most like me.  Her cynicism protrudes in the cleverest of ways when the mood strikes however the faulty hope of happily ever after dampens the pillow occasionally and binge cover up of depression and anxiety overwhelm the mask of strength and courage of perseverance are just a few lovely traits she has inherited (but don't tell her that...she will deny it!). Our mother-daughter
time was as expected; cordial, comforting in its weird way, and full of walls covering the "thanks for taking time out mom" love. I will get through those walls I built for her. After all, I was her hero and heroes don't fail. The pedestal was high and so was the fall. Those walls are weakening each day and the mortar that bonds them crack each time she knows I know what she's thinking even when pride stands tall to defend. We have our glimpses of years prior and that is what both of us hold onto....the nights when all that mattered was when we both laid our heads together wishing and dreaming of happy ever after.

Our fall paints a colorful story however the travels before and after is the masterpiece God intends for my journey ahead, a writer reaching to share with dysfunctional families such as ours...and just maybe...What if?

Against the Grain and LOVIN' It!

Verbs, nouns, adverbs, semicolon, and periods, Oh my! Five colleges courses overwhelm my days yet I added another, The Writer’s Workbench. Encouragement embraced the mind as I released the “old school” ways of punctuation; at last I can be ME (with a few restrictions). Long sentences I shall conquer, commas will flow, explanation is a point and the period will stop the length. Going against the grain is a style I can run with. I must admit the reassurance minimized further learning however the anticipation for next class session threatens my sleep.

Anticipation to play on words is delightful to my ears and musical rhythm of a paragraph sets the pace and space of many stories to tell. Word territory and its relevance to my writing is a fear I must overcome. Procrastination expels forgiveness in the territory of repeating words as “ly” adverbs take a back seat. Semester goals: welcome the additional course with open arms, utilize obscure words while making them clear in context will provide for special attention and gain writer’s reputation, be descriptive with the simple and remember God is the potter and I am the clay just as I am the writer and the story I will shape.

Although my expansion of learning did not include blueprints or useful habits, I flirted with the subtopics as if they were the next delectable meal. The engine is started and the narrative opportunity entices my appetite to reveal characteristic traits suitable for a good book and midnight snack. Interesting enough my oddness will grow as I seek unique names and cities while keeping to my roots of intended purpose; gaining fluency, flow and encouraging constructive criticism.

The night approaches morning, assignment deadline approaches and the responses are not yet complete so I will leave you with the  non applicable cliché “Curiosity Kills the Cat”.

Jezebel Gets Euchred!

Ace, King, Queen, and both Bowers, she’s going Alone! There was a day when going 'alone' meant all tricks were hers for the lead; no stoppers to prevent the lay-down victory. Never scoring with anything but a 5 of diamonds and 5 of hearts, Euchre was the game and partners were the danger. Who would sit across from this Queen B? Was it tonight’s Joker or was it he who held the heart of this diamond in the rough? Partners in crime and lonely hearts alike innocuously kibitzed with the lock of the eyes, a gentle nudge to the arch, a brush to the flesh and a smile of approval. Judicious methods derived from fantasy, providing appetite to an aroused culprit, dare she submit to desires of her boiling flesh?  

Exhilaration produced by such mischievous gestures push the line of safety. Consequential verdicts and the perception of Jezebel may hinder the authentic motive within. Pondering the aftermath of failure and the burden to follow will catalyze the core of her bereavement as her facade of tricks and teases are imminent behaviors sheltering the shattered pieces of failed love and heartaches that remain forever. The Free-Spirit rebel aches to run alone; with the shot of a gun and cleats to the block, once again; it’s a false start.

Many partners later, the diamond has been cut, beveled and polished. The cards were dealt, trump was called and love reneged. Although hands were played and the game was loyal, lessons were observed and rules were bent.

• It’s not a good idea to call Clubs thinking the male suite will grant luck,

• Nor is it wise to rely on him as a partner for the very need of a Queen’s heart.

• Follow the Ace of Hearts as she will teach you how to

“CALL A SPADE A SPADE”!

As for all the cut, beveled, and polished diamonds…

YOU are the daughters of the Highest King and according to His rules of the game…you are the RAREST of jewels so don’t just let the kitty out or

You WILL Get Euchred!

Plain ole Freewriting

Here I go, 15 mins! So I just spent the last hour and half writing and writing and writing some more and it turned out to be therapy and not really anything I care to share. I want to but not now, maybe never it still hurts too bad to layout it there. go away go away go away go away...writing is thrapy for me, both good and bad.  I can get it out on paper and I feel way better afterwards, the problem is some of things I have to let go of I just cant share them...so when I find time to write (have to bc of Comp1 -- thank God for the blessing!!! I regained my outlet. However on nights like tonight when a writing is to be done every day and the most peaceful time of day is (wellllll almost midnight when the house is quiet and jsut before Aerial gets home)...if I do it earlier I more apt to put off other school work and loose myself in writing (therapy). Its not liek today was bad...it actually was good, typical but good. Then around 7-8ish, it settled in...nope cant say that wont say that hold it in not gunna do it oh God no no no no no!!! thank you thank you so this has turned into a cross between freewriting and backspacing (im not worthy and if anyone see's this there gunna laugh) heck to the no am I ready for yet another ridicule...got enough of those kind of demons lurking around, mostly in the form of friends, or atleast I thought they were.  I'm praying I know I hurt alot of people along the way but damn....ok humilty andrea humilty some have no clue none at all even those you truly believed knew you (&her). Its not like she has taken over like she did then....they really dont knnow me do they? no tears no tears no tears no tears...im ok im ok im ok ....much betterAerial is home so now I can love on her and who cares if its not 300 words tonight....grade is good I TIRED AND OUTTA HERE!!

Finance or Politics? WARNING! I'm fired up :)

A recent Personal Finance assignment included research regarding the "sweeping changes" (aka new regulations governing credit card companies). I chose to focus on one of eight changes.  A fellow classmate's post ignited my desire to dig deeper...

On the surface, the change of lowering the limits, is appealing to the eye and can display the hint of "hey they care about my credit rating" when in all actuality; they DON'T! The sweeping change (or at least this bullet point) makes it appear as a sincere way to "help”. This very issue has impacted my family’s income, as it depends on the consumer’s ability to purchase homes or refinance mortgages (most of which to consolidate debt). Although the change may appear as an encouragement and accountability of finances, in essence its damaging, maybe even more so than bankruptcy. What really happens is they are increasing your debt to income ratio.

This ratio is the benchmark for credit approval among all lenders.  The ratio is calculated based on factors beyond income and debt such as (but not limited to): the “inline” percentages seen on your credit report. For example: the credit limit is lowered and the balance remains unaltered, causing for a higher percentage of credit use. This inline percentage, as I like to refer to it as, essentially impacts your A, B, C or D rating. This “rating” or “score” is a significant factor determining the details of your debt which is then placed in the equation of debt divided by income (aka debt to income ratio). In essence, on paper, the credit card companies and their notorious lack of disclosure, have just decreased your ability to gain affordable insurance, limited your options for providing transportation for your family, and, most disturbing, have made it nearly impossible to finance or refinance a mortgage.

Most of us would agree that, for the most part, these items are “needs” however; in the nation’s current financial crisis, many Americans can’t afford these “needs” and quite honestly feel as if they are “luxuries”. These limitations are largely due to yet another set of regulations and guidelines that directly impact what is considered acceptable ratios (I will save that fiasco for a later post). Education is a must! Are the credit card companies offering a lower balance along with lowering limits? Are they giving you the choice to lower your limit or is it “automatic”? Better yet, are they properly informing the consumer how to effectively make this decision? Have they educated the cardholder how this one decision has an enormous impact for several years to come? I didn't’t see this “sweeping change” as something it very well could be, a great beginning to America’s debt recovery. Although I may seem pessimistic on this matter, I do see it as a positive step, just lacking education and disclosure which are necessary components in making sound decisions for you and your family’s financial goals (aka financial plan).

This "helping hand" will cripple the very core of the government's solution(s) to rejuvenating the economy (i.e. housing industry and insurance availability). Seems to me, Obama has neglected yet another key factor in rejuvenating the economy as this law change is counter-productive, beneath the surface that is. Food for thought: What is the point of enticing mortgage interest rates if no one can qualify?

Flirting with Chemistry

The urge to skip Chemistry class devoured what little ambition I had left, at least for anything other than writing or reading! I'm addicted to this long lost love of "shitty first drafts"! This can't be good as procrastination of other classes becomes the product of my addiction.  Eighteen years ago I let go of a passion; one that aroused chills, transformed cocoons to butterflies (tummy tingles that is) and the hint of ecstasy only foreplay can do for the bloodstream.  The love affair gradually diminished the year a new love bombarded life as I knew it; the gift I prayed for was arriving.  My Angel; my baby girl; my Aerial Lee gave breathe to the poetry I once wrote. She became my story; my love; my life just as my writing once did. To nurture this cocoon with my adolescent meaning of unconditional love became a lifelong thank  you for one answered prayer. The least I could do was give up my own desires. Eighteen years later, transformation has taken place; it's time for her to fly! Release the beautiful butterfly, she must write her own story now and I must return to mine....that's where Chemistry class comes in.  

Returning to college with a redefined meaning of my first passionate love and the changed concept of ecstasy a pen and paper would provide in finding my inner most desires are now the driving forces to survive six semesters of foreplay. Having a passion for something, such as writing for me, can easily turn to an addiction.  Aside from embracing "shitty first drafts" and writer's block syndrome, the urge to gain fluency is an excuse I'm allowing to justify procrastination, that can't be good! Conquering procrastination must be first and foremost in my line of thinking so I came up with a test trial solution today.

Chemistry! I'm convinced the class is the devil in disguise.  Equations, elements, notations, beta, alpha atomic mass, alloys are just the beginning arrows Satan throws my direction.  Fight or Flight? There is no choice; I must fight! So what if Chemistry translates to an F on my high school transcript, I can't allow the arrow of self defeat be the stumbling block hindering a goal oriented 3.75 college transcript.  Assignment at hand: pick one element on the periodic table, answer multiple questions requiring ample research and let's not forget the electron configuration. Not to mention we must read all classmate's research, which is to be placed in sentence format.  How some can have a passion or love for this mind eraser of a class is beyond me. Well, until today, I had absolutely no desire but rather a "have to succeed" drive when approaching such fusion (yes, pun intended!). Then it hit me and I found myself FLIRTING! Can you believe it? I even possessed the guilt of such tease factors. Adulterating my relationship with writing, how dare I!

Solution to the equation: I wrote a story about Arsenic. Intertwined love for writing with this new found flirtatious attitude towards Chemistry could be a whole new level of ecstasy and foreplay. Oh wait, I was trying to solve procrastination, well at least I solved for X this time around.

A State of Euphoria

No way was this a Monday, I've been tricked! Too many snooze taps, slow percolating coffee, grouchy individual Storms' and a mountain of work left over from the Friday celebration are the foundational blocks of a normal Monday, right? I must journal this one like the cliché' says "write this one in the books"! So here I am bragging on my less than Manic Monday. 

Coffee was just perfect; hot, black and ready when my “dogs” hit the ground.  Steve's initiative of bedside service followed the silenced alarm just moments before the 8 a.m. setting while that itself was soothing. No high screech annoyance introducing headache one.  The clear path of morning relief broken only by a few shoes and miscellaneous knick knacks (evidence of Kenzie's OCD kitchen arrangement) was a sign today was not Monday. Although 300 minutes prior my head was filled with chemical equations and delirious freewriting, my bones were not jello"ized" nor were my eyes taking on evidence of an "all nighter"; my mind was pleasantly in sync with my heart, full of love and gratitude for those who stuck by me when all had been lost for several Mondays, month after month.

Hour one: filled with sweet nothings, coffee, peaceful awakenings of the last two hoodlums and the smile I missed for so long. I often wonder if she realizes the depths of truth of her ability to lighten a room just by walking In. The twinkle was just enough to carry me into euphoria, days when peer pressure was not the object of thievery and guilt was not the blanket to catch her tears. Today, Morgan had yet another moment of welcoming me into her heart, once again. For the next 40 minutes her and I shared an iPod cast of His word instructing us how to effectively break the cycle of “trie hard, do good, fail”, God was speaking; we listened with all our hearts.

The continuous bragging of my less than Manic Monday may be ineffective and allow those many thoughts outsiders have had over the years as they look at our family, they must live in a dream world.  No we really don’t, it’s actually quite the opposite.  We have nightmares after nightmares but the faith we carry, the trusting of His will in the midst of uncertainty is what makes all this seem like a dream, a state of euphoria.

Freewriting Exercise (2) - response to readings (15 mins)

What a long day no week this has been! Finally I sit down to my favorite subject, writing. Do I finally get the time to write? Woot Woot! Oh yea this isn’t facebook so I better try to write logically and gramaaticalitly correct well that’s not going to happen at 2 am.  Refreshing my memoriy on the I believe essays, noneed for refreshing on my favorite, Shitty first drafts.  Seems that;s the story of my life shitty first drafts however now I can actually take comfort in it and know Im not alone and there is hope for me yet LOL. A funny thing about it I didn’t even realize until half way through I was reading Anne LaMott again! How exciting, I still have yet to find a book of hers ok well I haven’t made the time. Hopefully I will this week. Then there is the Pizza dude. Double spaced again! Dang it. Word and today’s way of typing is a bit different than the 80s of course the 80s werethe bomb, music!! We tipped the pizza guys back then but ya know I really thought of the corealtion the writer made until my later years, the responsible years. Id have to say I agree with the overall “training” concept yet didn’t care for the article. Grown Up Barbie, well now that is a headline! Took my attention right away and Ifound myself wondering if she gave up the dream and feeling abit bummed at the thought of it, no don’t loose your free spirit! But a happy ending and a great synopisi of Barbie and the impact one mattel toy can have on a person.  That wasn’t the jist of it but it was a cool twist to seeking and finding happiness in loving what you do and looking at it through others eyes, how it benefits them.  Dang did it again! Always go to the funeral was a hard one to read yet intriguing as well. It brought back the memoires of my Grandmas funeral just about a year ago. She must have attended a lot of funerals, because the overwhelming amount of people that came through! Amazing, I always knew she was awesome but the last few months were phenomenon after phenomon. She always gave herself for everyone else. I liked the way the writer said that her real battle each day was doing good versus doing nothing. What a concept all should live by.  Always go to the funeral touched my heart beyond the written words. It takes practice! Yes it does and Im finding that to be very true in this class, shitty first drafts, continuing to write each day gaining fluency and freewriting how fun but why do I have to post it I really don’t want anyone to see these “crappy: first drafts…I have been cussing to much maybe that is why I the other article was my first reading, nah oh who I am kidding yes! It was a reason for me to be able to say or whisper shit! Just about the creping deadlines of homework eww another badword right now as I was late of 2 assignments and bombed a quiz in Chemistry! URG! That class is going to be the death of please attend my funeral, Im a bit scared I have pissed too many people off in my life that quite honestly Im afraid of being alone. Well it’s a good thing the timer just went off because I was about to have a whoas me party!

591

My Creedo, Our Marriage

Marriage is a product of codependency, a good marriage that is.  As a codependent wife; I take pride in the delectable dinners that fill the overgrown “teen” tummy and the sheepish smiles and batting of eyes that accomplish the “honey do list” in a timelier manner than last year’s gutter cleaning.  Of course, as a codependent  husband; my “better” half enjoys the Tim the Tool Man approach to opening pickle jars and solving the equation of clogged drains (Child A + Child B x CDE laughter = Disaster 7)!  Mind you, five of the seven factors possess the X chromosome and quite aware the “scape goat” Mother Nature can bring to dodging punishment. Sanity is accomplished by depending on one another. 

Marriage is the mirror image of God’s intended relationship with His people and His promise land.  The Israelites were rebellious and repeatedly attempting victory on their own while God gave them wisdom to defeat their enemies; often, they did not listen and many perished. They were to be dependent on God and codependent of one another as His people. When they failed the instruction, hearts hardened. This is much like marriage in today’s society. We take vows of instruction and perish when our hearts harden.  

There are moments, even years, when codependent existence intertwines with external forces neither one care to share as such confession will surely dim the light of reflection between us.  Fortunately, our years of self reliance end up right back where God intended, codependent!

Behind the Screen Audience

To know your audience you must ask questions. No matter the atmosphere, the fear of looking stupid prompts a “follow the leader” mind set, as a sigh of relief calms the heart rate when the first post includes “favorite”. The predominant factor of the remaining questions was just that; “What is your favorite….?” In my world, it left the intellectual questions representing bravery and honesty to dig into the audience by seeking more than a canned answer. The entire assignment was enlightening. ENG 101‑W06 classmates share common generalized interests such as social circles where family is first, found memories of family that impact our favorites, an environmental awareness of creation among us, and the desire to escape whenever time allows (for most of us that is simply a dream).   

My opinion of the discussion board atmosphere lies between the lines primarily due to various factors encompassing someone’s life, such as: busy family schedules causing for short responses, an overall consistency of who was in the top 5 to post early & respond early, and who started off strong but ended weak on their responses and sadly who chose not to respond to the “tardy” student. 

It has been my experience in life that the tardy student often has quite the insight if given a chance to redeem. I found myself reading this student’s post a few different times with that same fear of “looking stupid” for being the one to initiate inclusion. I also wasn’t the first one to respond yet humbly followed days later. As crazy as it may seem, I was testing this hypothesis.  Sadly, I observed no one had followed the brave lead of one classmate. Analyzing an audience from behind the screen is difficult as the “body language” makes it nearly impossible to conclude reliable opinions. I then furthered my research by paying attention to the tardy student’s responses, as I expected her validating my original opinion, insightful and intellectual. Although I didn’t share some of the same opinions or favorites, I found myself growing in my writing skills. 

What I mean is this: I analyzed my audience deeper than I originally began, much like others, starting off strong and fizzling out. This student opened my eyes to my own self audience (if that’s even a real word). Classmates seem to attract like cliques, even behind a screen, myself included. I tend to stay within a comfort zone aiming to please by molding my answer to acceptance among my peers. Needless to say I have learned the hard way over the years that it’s better to listen than speak. I sought out the ones that shared some of my same beliefs or similar interests and feared not the openness for discussion. However I found the true enjoyment by reading between the lines and testing my opinion(s). Further testing included my response of a politically incorrect line of work as my favorite job; I came out of a comfort zone and invaded my own privacy, contrary to Ms. A’s advice.  This was a post where “reply to reply” was evident.  Coming out of a comfort zone is the best way to learn and analyze your surroundings.  In this case, I should have listened.     

What are our comfort zones? Some do not touch on emotional topics or responses while others seek the common ground of impact. I noticed this “follow the lead” experiment more prevalent in the question, “Who is your Hero?”  The responses reflected high percentage sentimental aspects; leaving little room for anything but a politically correct answer, one who had empathy. Those that didn’t share the same kind of experience were answering short and sweet with no indications of comic book characters like most kid like hearts would be inclined to say. The kid-like hearts were prevalent in questions like “What is your favorite cereal?” or “What is your favorite T.V. Show?” as many included things like marshmallows and comedy. Releasing laughter is often referred to as an emotion more easily expressed in children.  This reiterates the brilliant selection our instructor imposed as writing groups were formed; a variation of talent, different styles of writing, weakness countering strengths and just enough common grounds to pose unity while stepping out of a comfort zone for learning. 

Writing is about knowing your audience, selecting a topic of interest and creating a thesis, otherwise referred to as the rhetorical triangle.  My fellow classmates are perfect.  There is enough diversity to hold interest however walls of fear could hinder our writing to the correct audience.  We all seem to have an interest in writing, share similar busy schedules that limit our ability to analyze body language of our audience and the initial excitement of an assignment with the ending fizzle of procrastination.  I believe this leaves a great responsibility on the writers to capture the attention quickly yet knowing when the posts are too short to gather valuable information or too long to read effectively. 

I noticed that most (classmates) started off responding to everyone and as the week progressed and life demands restricted fulfillment of our desire to obtain extra credit as well as feeding our audience and caused for the “give up” mode which behind a screen can seem inconsiderate.  Let’s face it; in today’s method of communication of behind a screen, the right way to express a sheepish, apologetic face is to text the correct smiley face with a hint of blush.  Now that wouldn’t go over well with the grade or would it?

Fighting with Humility

The "I Believe" list is a reflection on my perception, not yours!  Well isn't that just dandy? The cycle begins again.  The human race is made of flesh with no discrimination of color, race, origin or sex.  The flesh is something we need to live among the general population, or so I'm told.  I don’t like my flesh nor do I like the constant battle of the devil residing on my left shoulder and an angel whispering on my right. 

Fleshly Desire vs. Holy Spirit, Round Gazillion begins at the crack of dawn for this daughter.  Like many other mornings, there was no fight left in this soldier for Christ.  The Eye of the Tiger adrenalin was left at Busch Stadium the night before as the five hour drive allowed an ample amount of disturbing silence.  The kind of silence that toils your heart and feeds the "whoas me can't anyone hear me?" tears.  "Come on! Really? I'm already tired with no reason to fight. Can't we just block this one out?" was the voice of a neutral bystander; the one that plays both sides of the fence and pushes for the "flight syndrome".  Of course, leave it to Satan.  Just as the flight mode kicked in (aka blaring music), the iPod shuffle fed the flesh and stirred the audience; my sleeping children.  Knowing I was weak with PMS settling in, the gloves were fitting.  Holding back the tears, turning off the tunes and whispering the night loves and warnings of bed bugs was the smell I needed to fight and not flight.  This princess, the angel on my right, is going to win the battle because my daddy can kick your butt!  He taught me well, contrary to what you and your fans may think!  Many rounds were bloody and filled with the whoas me tears but the round where loyal fans leave your side, flesh protruded. 

Much like the interaction between determined Cardinals players and their fans giving up to face the battle of traffic at the bottom of the seventh.  How rude can one be? As if these fans could do any better under the pressure?  Umbrellas up and the partially filled stands roared as the fight continued to the very end.  Bases loaded and the glimpse of victory was all the players needed to walk with their heads high and ready to face the next game.

A five hour battle of the "voices" may or may not have been the best fight and the exhaustion that lingered to the following crack of dawn ended in victory, or at least a promise of it.  Although the morning hours seem to last all day, there were enough glimpses and warning versus floating around via His word and radio broadcasts to keep strength of perseverance flowing.  Humility is not weakness. 

Humility and the pressure it places on real fighters is one that many can not grasp.  The walk with Christ is full of humility.  I believe C.S. Lewis said it best:

Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it’s thinking of yourself less.

My Daddy, aka God, backs it up by saying The first shall be last and the last shall be first (Mark 10:31)

Yours Truly,
A Daughter with The Eye of the Tiger


     

Homeschool? Socially Acceptable...I Think Not!

Unacceptable to the general population, homeschooling has the stereotype of “taboo” among our social health dimension.  The life of a homeschooled student is further misunderstood with the assumption “Is there life out there?”  And “These students won’t be able to face real life”.  According to Merriam‑Webster, life is defined as: the form or pattern of something existing in reality.  The reality facing our children is nothing short of a civil war based on terrorism to a child’s belief of whether they can successfully engage in and execute a specific behavior and ultimately impacting their self esteem.

Parents across the nation share empathy as the increasing rates of suicide, bullying, drug use and teen pregnancy invade our schools.  Both parents and students are impacted by these failings, regardless of the weapons inflicted on our own, close friend of our own or an acquaintance of our child’s social circle.  None the less, we lack the sympathy in the same breath with statements like “I’m thankful it wasn’t my child” or “I’m not letting my child hang out with him/her, they are heading down a wrong path”.  What path do we expect from children?  Are we instilling health and wellness among the next generation?  Or are we leaving the molding factors up to our administrators, many in which mask their own fears within the four walls? All while spiritual health is a forbidden curriculum within a crucial course of survival. The evolution of wellness includes six (6) dimensions with an umbrella concept of mental health. 

 The Spiritual health dimension (a feeling of unity with a greater force and a guiding sense of meaning or value in life) goes well beyond the forbidden word of “religion”.   Spiritual health encompasses a wide variety of factors needed in living a balanced, introspective and meaningful life.  The concept of mental health is widely focused upon throughout our nation as the broad factors of psychosocial health contains the leading causes for one of America’s top complaint, health care and disability.  What does that have to do with our children? Well, depression is the leading cause of disability in the United States as anxiety is the number one health problem, impacting over 40 million people in the U.S.  Now, to give yet another disturbing fact; depression in children is an increasingly reported phenomenon. 

I find it disturbing and simply a form of laziness among parents and the US population to continually complain about disability, the problems within our schools and the increasing costs of health care. What are we, as parents, doing to protect our children?  We are allowing the schools to take a vital part of learning that enables our precious gifts to cope with the reality of life.  The very dimension that teaches self esteem, the kind that is based on balanced, introspective and meaningful inner peace.  Is this because they fear the word “religion” or the possibility God may be brought into the classroom and ultimately impact their career and pocketbook due to a “sue happy” nation?  Don’t allow society to measure your child’s self worth or you just may find yourself as the one others are having empathy on. 

Our choice to home school is nothing short of love and the desire to instill the spiritual dimension and mental health factors we all are terrified of.  To fear or conquer, is the question.  Social dimension isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Our kids are comparing themselves to society’s definition of value.  Aren’t we in the middle of a depression?  Even our country as a whole is suffering from a lack of self worth! Maybe they haven’t been following their credo, In God We Trust….food for thought anyways.   

My Hero

Recently, I had the privelage of answering a DB Post titled "Who is your Hero?" Just another way God works in my life....here is how I responded.

The fall of 2009 I was able to witness a phenomenon of a breast cancer survivor of 13+ years to only encounter another form of cancer.  Not once did she having anything but a "I'm going to beat this" attitude and strength.  She was a wife of noble character.  I refer to these characteristics because of her 60 year marriage to a man who belittled her intelligence and demeaned her English heritage.  Years prior to cancer she suffered from a nervous breakdown forcing her retirement from teaching English.  Throughout those years, many family members would play with her silliness and brush off intellectual conversation with this woman, in hopes they would gain acceptance from her husband.  The last 3 months of fighting Stage 4 of cancer she was blessed with the opportunity of one on one time with her daughter, free from ridicule.  The healing of emotional skeletons, bonding of shared dreams and the experience of a last dying wish were just the highlights of this phenomenon. 

Grandma Marianna Grayston Monsey and my mom, Margie, will forever be my heroes.  One year later, Margie is caring for the man that placed that wedge.  She does this because of the promise she made to her mom, a woman that upheld God's description in Proverbs 31; a wife of noble character.  Marianna, despite the hardships of her generation, was a woman looking for God's acceptance and now has the wings she always dreamed of. 

My empathy for your loss and excitement for the heroism is just the beginning of saying "I'm here on the other side of the screen" when a rough day comes.  Thank you for your heartfelt question and underlined meaning. 

This I believe - Dreams Come True

This I believe to be true….I believe in dreams and as they pertain to prophecy. Wow I just backspaced URG! Ok lets try this again. I had a dream sever no I had a dream when I was in middle school and it was vivd. It was about two girls who looked exactly like my littlew sister. Blonede locks of hair blue eyes smiles like the dinkles you see when laughter is the only thing filling the room. I remember seein having a fear that I couldn’t tell them apart the fear was overwhelming and yea so overwhelming I block it and replace it with the beauty of what it would be like of having two Jamie’s in my life to take care and love. My sister is more to me than I have ever told her does she really know how much she has been my hero? I need to call her and tell her but she wont answer the phone she never answers the phone atleast I know its not me she is not answering but is ibecause she is scared to show what is really going on or is she portraying that monsey blood blold and strong? Is there a further resoning for this dream? Til now I have experienced so many dreams or what most would refer to as dejavu but this dream of a set of twins in which I could not tell apart well I eventually could tell amy and joey apart right? Years later at the age of 24 I gave birth to triplets, ok so my dream a little off but ok I have 4 mins better hurry! Iof those triplets were a set of twin identical fgirls with blonde lockes of curls, blue eyes and one with dinkles the size of my living room! Wow a dream did come trure but only to find out this was the beginning of my dejavus. I left the hospital with their toes painted pink for morgan and purple for McKenzie…I was soooo scared! But remember your blood line….are the monsey’s or now I realize it’s the Grayston blood line that hid the fears, the dreams, the inner desires, the appearance of submissive yet crying out lousd IM AFRAID! Its ok because these girls were a dream come true and I had no idea how to take care of a boy….that fear was for a whole nother dejavue I will expand on later! Ooooo 9 seconds to go and I told the short story well kinda iok now im over the limit….figures!


427 words

This I believe

I believe in God


I believe in the Holy Spirit

I believe in love

I believe in hell

I believe in heaven

I believe in dreams

I believe in prophecy

I believe in my ability to write

I believe I am a good mom

I believe my children love me

I believe my mom

I believe there is a reason for everything

I believe God’s will is better than my own

I believe I confuse His will with my wants

I believe life is more than my current state of mind

I believe friends are not always loyal

I believe I can be selfish

I believe my reflection is stronger than people’s perception

I believe in fear

I believe my wisdom is from God

I believe the Colts will wim the Super Bowl

I believe I will live in Indiana again one day

I believe my motives for wanting to move are not selfish

I believe my family doesn’t understand my heart

I believe life is not without displine

I believe discipline comes from God

I believe I have learned my lesson, for now

I believe I am in touch with His will more than others realize

I believe my heart has been broken too many times to count

I belive education is the key to the next phase in my life

I believe college will open doors I am scared of

I believe in my intelligence

I believe in perserverance

I believe dreams tdo come true

I believe in happy ever after

I believe our inner desires are of both flesh and spirit

I believe in grey areas

I believe Chrisitianity is the one on one relationship with God

I believe one day I will be alone

I believe my fears will make me stumble

I believe my fears will also provide insight to the unknown

I believe in the unknown

I believe trust is beyond anyone’s vocabulary

I believe faith is greatly misunderstood

I believe wisdom is even more misunderstood

I believe marriage is the hardest trial in life to succeed at

I believe marriages are a product of codependency

I believe in

(335 words)

My Reflection and Not Your Perception

  Whew! It would have been much easier to have taken this test many many moons ago! It seems my journey in life has been all about finding "me" and who I wanted to be. The journey itself is who I am; a free spirit with a drive of the fast and furious. When the pace was hindered and the cards were dealt, the idleness was the brake pad needed for life to steal this ace of hearts. In short, ENFJ!

Extroversion (33), Intuition (50), Feeling (60), Judging (11) are the results of The Jung Typology Test. Basically, this is my personality type. Hands down, royal flush, pedal to the metal; It is 100% accurate. It has just taken, oh about 38 years for me to see it for myself and endure the ride, regardless of the transportation methods.

This analysis is a benchmark for my next journey: College. It’s assuring to know the path chosen is in line with the personality classification. Writing, serving others and the entrepreneurial ventures are the core of “what I want to do when I grow up”. I admit, growing up and staying the course has always been a struggle yet now the pros and cons outline is pinned to the wall in black and white. This will be air needed to stay on the track and only stopping when check points demand for it. It’s ok if I’m scared. It’s ok if there are too many “I” in the sentence. The outline of strengths and weaknesses are within my reach and embedded on my heart (strong trait) so the writing will gain momentum, the perseverance of a narrow path will continue and the motto remains: “The first shall be last”