Category Archives: Love

Lumpy Bumpy boob job?

We all look the same on the inside, ladies.

We all look the same on the inside, ladies.

Tonight I went to the gas station to get an energy drink for the morning. On the counter was a large baby bottle with the words, “Help Jenna get a BOOB job” in glittery stickers. It was for the girl behind the counter. This young woman has the most sparkling eyes, kind spirit, and white straight teeth that light up her face when she smiles. I’ve not heard her ever say an unkind word to even the jerks that come into that place regularly.

When the store was clear, I asked her why she wanted a boob job.

“Well I kind of want it, my boobs are too small. And my boyfriend wants bigger boobs.” she said with a shy smile.

“What’s the matter with your beauty now?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t see it. It’s a carry over from childhood.”

“You can choose not to buy into that any more, you know that right?” I inquired.

“I don’t know. It just followed me into adulthood.” She said as she waited on the next customer.

When she was done with the customers I stepped back up to the counter. “I do speeches on body image,” I stated to her astonishment. “I don’t understand how you can’t see your beauty.” She actually blushed. I described her kindness, her friendliness, her smile, her compassion, her vibrancy to her. She refused my compliments with a gentle hand set up in front of her.

“So I, and everyone else that compliments you, are liars?” I asked.

“I think so.” She answered me plainly.

“Don’t you think it odd that so many people would tell you the same lie, but you still can’t believe that it’s true?”

“I didn’t think of it that way.” She said while helping someone else. After the customer left, I stepped back up to the counter.

“Your body is just a shell,” I tell her with passion in my voice. “Who you are is not what your boob size is, or what size pants you wear. Beauty is found in the love, compassion, joy, and kindness found within your shell. You are beautiful just the way you are. Nobody can change that about you but yourself. A boob job isn’t going to do what you think it will for your self esteem. If you find love for others, then you must love yourself first. You can’t give someone an empty plate and tell them it’s a steak dinner.” When I realized she was shocked, I stepped back and said that I would see her another time.

What is wrong with women? Seriously? Your body, your temple, your shell, whatever you want to call it, is going to die. It’s not real. The labels of mother, daughter, sister, aunt, friend, cousin…professional anything…those are just titles given when you’ve unlocked a new level (geek speak there). The truth is found within, not on the outside.

Think of it this way, I read a quote that asked the question, “Of all the thoughts that race through your head, who is the one that observes those thoughts?” Who are you really? You are perfectly you. That’s who you are. Love yourself. How? By looking past what you’ve been told or how someone spoke to you you can find the truth in yourself. Everything that has happened to you is your history. It doesn’t have power over you unless you give it power.

I was told that my nose was too wide. I was told I had kind hair; the kind that belonged around a dog’s ass. I was told I was a slut. I was told I was pregnant all the time. I was told I wasn’t worth anything but sex. I was told I was worthless. I was told I wouldn’t grow up to be worth anything. Lessons of my imperfections repeated over and over again. For many years, I bought into that pack of lies. I believed myself to be a bad person. I hated everything about who I saw in the mirror. I began a cycle of self destruction trying to quench my own spirit.

Here’s where the cool part comes in: I woke up one morning and thought, “Mare, this isn’t who you are or how you need to be living your life. You will no longer need anything like that.” And I quit everything, just like that. I just didn’t need it. With the help of a kick ass therapist, I waded through the bullshit pond that had accumulated over my true self. I found the plug, let the water of sins wash down the drain. Then I began cleaning up the mess I’d left behind myself.

Those words I was told so many years ago no longer hold any power. I forgave the people who hurt me with them. Until I see another woman where I was, I don’t even think about them any more. The problem is, I keep seeing women who think that having the perfect nails, tan, car, or whatever is going to bring them the happiness they need. There is nothing in this world that will make you happy but yourself. You are responsible for your own happiness. If you’re not happy, change what you’re doing, get rid of the negative talk in your head by hearing your spirit. How? Just be still. Listen. Let the rest of the garbage flow down the drain. Allow your true self to shine through. Find peace. Find love. Find compassion. Find joy. Revel in your perfection and imperfections that are truly unique to you.

Namaste.

GO LOVE! Stop the Hate

As I’m scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed each day, I noticed an unusually high ratio of hate. Hate Justin Beiber? That’s okay. Hate Westboro Baptist Church? That’s okay. How about Democrats? Republicans? Atheists? Gays? Women? Men? Goldfish? That’s okay too.

I am all about personal freedom. I believe that every person is entitled to their own opinions, beliefs, and ways of doing things. What I don’t understand is why the hate of such ridiculous things? If you want to hate something, what about poverty? Hunger? Rape? Acid Attacks? War? Human Rights Violations?

These are things that should be hated. These are things that should not be tolerated, but we do. We allow it because it isn’t in our own backyard. It’s okay because it isn’t directly affecting most of us, thankfully, on a daily basis.

STOP HATE! GO LOVE!

STOP HATE! GO LOVE!

If you’re reading this, you at least have electricity with pretty good odds you have clean safe water to drink. If you’re reading this, you’re probably not worrying about soldiers breaking into your house, killing the man/men and raping the women. If you’re reading this, odds are you have at least a rudimentary education that taught you how to unlike the millions of children who will never witness these words. If you’re reading this, odds are you’re using some sort of electronics device that cost enough to supply an entire village for an entire year clean water, food, and/or medicine needed for survival.

The generosity shown by the United States when 9/11 happened, when Katrina hit, when, most recently, the tornadoes hit in Oklahoma, is amazing. That’s because it happened where we couldn’t ignore it. We couldn’t walk away because the victims of these tragedies are our neighbors, friends and relatives. They have faces like ours.

Think about this: The people in a remote village in South Africa, in Russian States, in China, in Singapore are someone’s neighbors, friends and relatives too. They have faces, but they don’t look like our well fed American selves. They don’t have the resources we do. They don’t have what we do, but that doesn’t make them any less of a human being.

Hate is such a nasty thing. It takes away from our compassion. It takes away from our kindness. It blurs love into a meaningless statement of favorites instead of being the action it is intended to be. Think about what you dislike. Now think about all the wonderful things we could be doing for each other right now in the name of love. Do not tolerate the abominations against humanity. Find a way to change the hate speak into love speak. It’s the only way the human race, humanity, will survive.

Division will Multiply and Add to our Subtraction

It is my hypothesis that we’ve forgotten our communities. We’ve forgotten, as a whole, that we’re in this together because the lines of division have been drawn between liberal and conservative, African American and White, White and Hispanic, old and young, healthy and sick, poor and rich. We’re told we have no common ground and that it’s every wo/man for themselves. With rare community exception this appears to be the “norm.”

We’ve forgotten our addresses as places to be charitable. We depend on the faceless churches to do what we do not want to do which is know our neighbor and lift them up with loving hands as we know in our hearts is right. We deny it because it’s easier to look away than to look poverty in the eye. We see the problem but rarely solve it because surely someone must be doing something about that already, right? You know, those faceless people that occasionally get a shout out by “DoSomething.org” or “Upworthy” or “Because I said So”.

We don’t have to be human, we just have to do what we’re told. We shouldn’t look at those homeless, starving, unhealthy people because they’re the problem. They’re lazy. They’re alcoholics and addicts. They’re people who deserve what they get because if they’d only tried a little harder, got a better education, given up the booze they would make it in this world. They wouldn’t be littering our streets with their hollow eyes, freezing hands and feet, or spitting blood onto the concrete covered in our garbage they took sustenance from for dinner.

But my further hypothesis of why we commonly look away from instead of towards a solution is that many of us know we’re but a paycheck or two away from the very same fate. Seeing our futures reflected back at us from the eyes of a hungry child is not something we wish to see in our own families. Seeing a homeless Veteran sitting on the sidewalk with a cardboard sign is not how we want to believe we treat our soldiers. Seeing a woman angry at her dire circumstance allows us the right to look away so we don’t have to see what we may become should the fates not smile on us anymore.

I have been working in my own community to establish a garden where the people I live next door to and across the street from can work elbow to elbow with me to create sustainable food for our families despite circumstance. It is my belief that if we work together we can make a difference in our lives. But sadly, there is little hope here. Without a torch to light the way, without strong voices calling them out to join the fray, we will remain in the darkness of poverty, starvation, homelessness, and the stigmas that are attached to those solvable issues.

FOSTER: “Y’all just get my compassion thing a throbbin’ but you forgot the one thing that drives EVERYTHING in America, MoNeY! God love you for your innocence but if already rich old white men can’t get richer it ain’t gonna fly.”
•
CHAPIN: “Need way more people like u around”
•
ERRETT: “You should write a book Mare… Excellent writer”
•
BAKER:

Lilo & Stitch – This is My Family.
•
MARTELL: “CHAPIN, the thing is, we’re all these people. We just need to do the right thing. You’d not let your own child starve, why someone else’s offspring. We all bleed red. We’re all one.

FOSTER, you can’t eat money, you can’t house someone in coins.”
•
FOSTER: “Oh I couldn’t agree more, I’m just saying the prevailing feeling amongst the right wing is “I don’t care about a bunch of brown kids” “lazy old vet should get a job” “I got mine, why should I care about you” it is a shame money becomes an issue when the subject is basic human dignity but to so many it is.”
•
MARTELL: “There are 535 members of Congress. There are 317 million Americans. Allowing this to continue is an abomination to humanity. We the People of the United States, not who has the most money. If we stood united and refused to allow people to destroy our unity and humanity, we, ALL of us, could make the changes necessary without violence, without anger, without hatred, but with love. Love won’t feed a child, that’s fact, but the hands that make that food with love can.”
•
FOSTER: “From your mouth to God’s ears my good friend. I am not cynical just resigned to the level of cruelty that about half the people in this country are capable of. You can find them every Sunday morning in pews across the country, right next to the ones who would wish things were different.”
•
MARTELL: “Wishing doesn’t solve anything. Waiting for someone else to do it doesn’t solve anything. Claiming good heart while your neighbor loses everything in foreclosure because of family illness or loss of employment doesn’t solve anything. It’s only when we use our hands with love towards one another that we’ll be following any common sense. If it happens to one of us, it can happen to all of us. We need unity back in our community. Without it, we’re no better than those 535 members of Congress, or the VA that allows our soldiers to go without care, or the family services that allows children to go hungry or the department of immigration who destroys innocence because of an imaginary line drawn on paper. This should outrage us. This should piss us off. This should be addressed by We The People because I don’t want to wear the label of executioner of humans. It’s morally wrong.
P.s. I don’t care which religion you follow or don’t follow. This has nothing to do with that. It has everything to do with love.”
•
LOONEY: “Read this entire conversation, I couldn’t say anything better. I’m proud of the spiritual aspect and the integrity that you’ve grown into, my daughter. A wholeheartedly agree that the loss of community is a symptom that plagues us. Families no longer live in the same house or even in the same town/city. Therefore the so called breakdown of the family -IMHO-has as much to do with geography as much as lack of commitment to many things.”

The Coffee Hours Symphony

Our personal music composed itself
on the breezy breaths of our being.
Our eyes blinked in metronome
as we witnessed our lives quietly,
the creak of a knee as it’s repositioned for comfort,
the crumpling of the cushion’s fabric
the way the richly creamed coffee we share
is sipped and swallowed with sensational delight
eliciting murmurs of approval.
You spoke truthfully to me with words
that had no letters, no order, no punctuation,
But every meaning I needed was there.
I heard you. I understood.
You are not alone.
I let out a deep sigh.
Your eyebrow quirked upwards
making a question mark of your eyes.
I smiled half way lost in our song
because it has been sung so often
brought up familiarly during times of great loss
And yet this symphony remains blank of content
consolation filled with the tunes we know by heart.
You place your mug on the table with a wobbly balance
reaching out your hand to hold mine.
Your eyes remove the question reassure me the answer,
that you’re with me; I am not alone.

Unexpected actions from injury

Last night I went walking through my neighborhood in an effort to exercise. The night was cool, punctuated by firecrackers and painted with darkness where the streetlights don’t quite reach. The route I’d chosen has a medium grade hill which I wanted to take advantage of so my thighs would tune more to my personal music. I was having a text conversation with my mother-in-law and walking fast enough to hear the groans of protest in my muscles.

When I got to the corner of my street, within eye-shot of my home, my ankle decided to throw me forward onto the asphalt tearing a nickel sized dime deep chunk off my knee, slicing my thumb, and wrenching my back. As I rolled over to sit up, I held my knee and breathed a Peter Griffin for a good while as tears rolled down my face.

A car pulled up in the intersection and two young men asked me if I was okay. Through my tears I explained that I needed to get to my husband. They asked if I could stand. I wasn’t sure since I hadn’t attempted it yet. I was still trying to get my breath. Then they got out of their car and as if approaching an untamed animal they said, “We’re not going to hurt you. We’re just going to help you up.” One on my right side, one on my left, and they lifted me rather easily to standing. A few test steps and I thanked them as they walked back to their car and left.

Other than a nasty gash and a wobbly ankle, I was okay enough to walk to my house and get doctored up by my husband and neighbor. I’m no worse for wear but, in my world, walking and chewing gum are not recommended.

The only thing that really bothered me of all that was their approach of me. They were non-threatening Samaritans reassuring me as I sat in the dark on the street huddled with injury but that they had to even identify themselves as such felt wrong. It felt like they shouldn’t have to introduce themselves as if at a job interview just to help an injured female party.

Yes, I understand why they did it. Yes, I understand society’s rules about approaching another human when you intend to touch them. Yes, I see all of that, but they were reacting appropriately to a fellow human. They weren’t invasive, just cautious. I hate that it were necessary.

I’ve struggled a lot with Love Thy Neighbor on a personal level lately. I’ve written, spoken, and thought less than stellar horrible reviews of where I live. With snipers on my birthday descending on a gun wielding neighbor in the next building and bandy rooster posturing about who is the biggest and strongest among the children and the adults, while adding in a sprinkle of drug addicted/using/dealing people and the imagery is stark.

But.

The young men who stopped to help me get on my feet, my young neighbor who saw me crying and immediately called for his mom to help me, his mom who came jumping over the wall when she saw my injury and her subsequent doctoring, with the assistance of my husband, of my body demonstrates to me that Love Thy Neighbor isn’t just a phrase. It’s a purposeful direction of a human’s attention that creates a supportive network of kind hearts helping one another in times of need.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe there is hope hidden in my neighborhood, I just haven’t unlocked that door yet. I’ll just have to keep trying.

Schadenfreude

As I’m scrolling through my newsfeed each day, I noticed an unusually high ratio of hate. Hate Justin Beiber? That’s okay. Hate Westboro Baptist Church? That’s okay. How about Democrats? Republicans? Atheists? Gays? Women? Men? Goldfish? That’s okay too.

I am all about personal freedom. I believe that every person is entitled to their own opinions, beliefs, and ways of doing things. What I don’t understand is why the hate of such ridiculous things? If you want to hate something, what about poverty? Hunger? Rape? Acid Attacks? War? Human Rights Violations?

These are things that should be hated. These are things that should not be tolerated, but we do. We allow it because it isn’t in our own backyard. It’s okay because it isn’t directly affecting most of us, thankfully, on a daily basis. We turn our face away because we believe that people, all people, should be like we are.

If you’re reading this, you at least have electricity with pretty good odds you have clean safe water to drink. If you’re reading this, you’re probably not worrying about soldiers breaking into your house, killing the man/men and raping the women. If you’re reading this, odds are you have at least a rudimentary education that taught you how to unlike the millions of children who will never witness these words. If you’re reading this, odds are you’re using some sort of electronics device that cost enough to supply an entire village for an entire year clean water, food, and/or medicine needed for survival.

The generosity shown by the United States when 9/11 happened, when Katrina hit, when, most recently, the tornadoes hit in Oklahoma, is amazing. That’s because it happened where we couldn’t ignore it. We couldn’t walk away because the victims of these tragedies are our neighbors, friends and relatives. They have faces like ours. They were our friends, neighbors, countrywo/men. It was if our banding together would prevent another of these tragedies, whether man made or not, from happening. A NIMBY attitude that permeated our popular culture and brought unity where there had been division.

Think about this: The people in a remote village in South Africa, in Russian States, in China, in Singapore are someone’s neighbors, friends and relatives too. They have faces, but they don’t look like our well fed American selves. They don’t have the resources we do. They don’t have what we do, but that doesn’t make them any less of a human being. That doesn’t mean they deserve any less dignity or recognition for their accomplishments. We instead focus on their “failure” to be as we are. That’s victim blaming at its horrendous “best.”

Hate is such a nasty thing. It takes away from our compassion. It takes away from our kindness. It blurs love into a meaningless statement of favorites instead of being the action it is intended to be. Think about what you dislike. Now think about all the wonderful things we could be doing for each other right now in the name of love. Do not tolerate the abominations against humanity. Find a way to change the hate speak into love speak. It’s the only way the human race, humanity, will survive.

The Nomad

Come along and be a nomad with me.

Come along and be a nomad with me.

A Nomad once traveled from port to port,

for every face the Nomad met,

she searched for her own

trapped by her own design

fearful of herself

her own darkness hiding, only barely,

from her own sight.

The Nomad traveled from one end

of the world to the other

pausing only to learn and see

her soulful vision mirrored,

like an oasis,

back at her from the loving hearts

of other damaged spirits that wandered,

not quite as far as she,

from their own generational homes.

The Nomad rejected all roots

even those that moved her spirit

towards home. But, one day,

The Nomad sat at the edge of a great lake

witnessing the birds dance a complexity

backed by the setting sun that shadowed
the daytime heat with the promise of cool night.

The Nomad searched the sunlit blue

then the moonlit sparkles

She realized it was time to revive and reveal.

The Nomad danced abandon as she’d observed

the flight of her con-spirit-ors do

She slithered with colorful scarves

pouring rainbow colors from her fingers,

releasing all that no longer served

or caused her fear and anguish.

The nomad danced in large spirals

on the sands of the shore

revealing a fleshy spirit

ripe with juicy sweetness

filled to overflowing with kindness

that leaked onto her spirit

with compassionate ribbons of hope.

The Nomad wandered back across her path

carefully touching, delicately expressing

but growing bolder, more adept with her

new nudity, transparently clothed about her

Genuine in joy and with a resolved spirit

The Nomad settled into a new life

one more bountiful, wonderful, and thrilling

than any she had found in her journeys.

The Nomad’s own backyard filled with wonderful

The Nomad’s kitchen burst with spices

She had finally found the home for her spirit

that she’d thought was long forgotten but

was with her even in the darkness of her past.

Bone Filled Closets

“The problem with people is that we’re looking at everyone’s front door from our bone filled closets.” –Crystal Beeler

We show the world the prettiest of packages. We wear the nicest clothes we can afford, drive the best car we can, work at a job where we’re considered “A nice person,” hang out with our friends who think we’re hilarious/serious/odd/insert-other-attribute-here, and we still can’t see ourselves honestly. We pull the wool over our own eyes that we’re not as good as others. We hoodwink ourselves into believing we’re bad at everything and at times ponder why we’re even accepted any place at all.

But we reinforce this belief by telling each other about our humanity through platitudes of: “Everyone makes mistakes,” “Don’t worry, it will get better,” “You’re fine/okay,” or one of my favorites, “Pray that God forgives you,” shows me that we all want to be okay; Be considered okay. But hearing it from the outside while we stand in the midst of our failures can do the complete opposite of what we need to do for ourselves.

The truth is, we already have all the tools we need to be perfectly us. We are already loved. We are already beloved. We are already the perfect version of our collective experiences. When you can accept that, the world is ready for you to explore it with the awe and wonder of your spirit that isn’t linked to the physical plane but by your memories and experiences. A collective of the tried and true and the not such a great ideas mingled into the spicy delicious you.

But how do you get over the fear that others are seeing you as you see yourself? How do you look in the mirror with confidence that you have talents unique to you? How can you say that you’re less than anyone else when you are born into the right of love?

Take off the front door. Be the human you are without fear because it’s who you are. You are, with all your lumpy bumpy bits, amazing. On the physical sense (and yes this assumes), your heart is beating, your lungs are working, your kidneys are doing their thing, your bowels, your stomach, your entire blood vessel system are all working and you don’t have to think about any of it. You can’t run a mile? That’s okay because you can pick up a grain of rice between your toes. You can’t lift 100 pounds? That’s okay because you can read an entire book in a day.

Replace those negative thoughts with the things you CAN do even if they’re not remotely related. Look on yourself with the same compassion you’d show a friend who stripped off their pretty package and had a meltdown in the grocery store. See yourself as a child who only occasionally needs correcting by your loving attention. Give yourself tenderness by taking time to recharge/renew/revive yourself.

There is no shame in taking care of yourself. People will come and go in your lifetime which means that you are the ultimate expert on you. You’re the only one that is around you 24/7/365. You are the only one who know your every thought, every emotion, every goal, every dream, every aspiration, and what makes your truly happy. I repeat, there is no shame in taking care of yourself.

Comparing yourself to others is judging yourself in the harshest of lights. There is no room for error when you’re trying to measure up to someone else. However, if you realize that you are your only competitor for your life and spirit, it really is empowering to know that you can set the goals YOU need to feel successful.

Search deeply into your hidden secrets without fear. You already know what they are. They aren’t a surprise to you. You lived them. You experienced them. You learned from them. Throw them around the room as if you were looking for your favorite toy or outfit that somehow got buried under years of denial, regrets, self-loathing, shame, guilt, and other harmful self-incriminating tactics you’ve used against yourself to declare an invalid self-worth.

Just like as if you were doing a spring cleaning in your house, do so with the negative. You can keep the lessons you’ve learned, but don’t cherish that time you hit your brother over the head with a dictionary. Let it go. If we hold onto the childish mistakes of our past, we’re likely to hold onto the inexperienced or ignorant issues of our adulthood. This isn’t self-care, this is self-sabotage. You’re worth more than that.

By allowing yourself your humanity, you’re giving the gift of yourself to others in a way that can’t be duplicated. Embrace yourself with the knowledge that your imperfections, quirks, obsessions, snarkiness, anger, kindness, and actions are a reflection of the spirit of your humanity.

Give yourself the greatest gift you can give to yourself, love. Everything you are is utterly fantastic. Even the worst thing you’ve ever done is not the definition of you but a measure of how far you’ve come. Put down the baseball bat you’ve been beating yourself with and let those cuts, scars, and bruises heal. When you reach for that self-abuse, remember that a loving person would never harm you. You ARE that loving person. I don’t even know you and I can tell you this for a fact.