This Train Station

There is music behind the background
Softly playing
I do not like it

These black bat appendages
Are not my wings
Connected through my shoulders
By uncomfortable black wire
With claws resting beneath my clavicle

No one could fly attached to these things

I focus
I see a skeleton face with a bald head
He mocks me, cocking his head to the side

And I manage to get the heavy monstrosities flapping
These wings, as heavy as titanium beams
Ripping against my fair skin

I see blood traveling in lines down my arms
I force the wings to flap, to rip, to disconnect
Bringing me to a kneeling position on the floor
As they smack and break and bleed against the concrete

These are not my wings
I say it in my head
I say it in a whisper
I say it in a scream

And finally, the wings let go of me.

No creature attached to them ever could have flown.

Underneath, there are small swirls on my back
Like a tattoo of butterfly wings slowly expanding.

Tell me,
With these new wings,
Will I be able to fly?

Do the Hokey Pokey and You Turn Yourself Around

I've learned not to apologize for the way I live my life, the things I think and do, and who I am.

What I have realized is I will not be liked by most of the people I meet, I will never know what the majority of my acquaintances think of me, and if I spend my time worrying about what other people think, I will forget to live my own life.

I know I've broken hearts I never intended to harm.

I've been ineffective in reaching hearts I've desperately tried to affect.

I've tried to impose my will on others, unintentionally and intentionally, unsuccessfully and successfully.

I like having my way and it's very hard to temper.

I like making other people happy and sometimes I will forget who I am in pursuit of trying to change how another person feels.

I feel responsible for feelings and events that I had no part in creating.

It's very hard for me to walk away from damaging people, but it's slowly getting easier.

I feed into other people's self absorption easily. By desperately wanting to be liked, it's easy to bend over backwards for someone else's dream. The hard part is, those kinds of people will never return the favor. They're also the hardest to let go of. 

I've been striving for a long time to feel like someone valued me and my dreams as much as I've tried to support others. When I finally found that happy medium, I was amazed and when it's reciprocal, it's love. 

I try to love all of my friends and family. I hope that I can raise my children with values that strengthen and support their relationships and friendships. 

I cannot control most of the things I'd like to and mostly accept that fact.

I want more out of life. That doesn't mean what it used to for me. I don't want more friends or more things or more to do--I want more value to the time spent and the connections I've made. I think I've been on the right track for that change. 

I don't write these truths for any other reason to acknowledge what I've been feeling lately. I like marking the steps I've made on my journey to accepting myself--it's been a difficult road of transitions and trials. If I ever fall backwards, I feel like this is a list of things that is worth remembering and working back toward. 

Ranting and Errors

I hope I'm not the only one.

I have a lot of friends that make a lot of mistakes when they type rants.

Logically, this makes sense. The more upset they are, the quicker the words fly from their minds to their fingertips, and they press enter before fully reading through what they've written. In addition, being upset renders the editing brain useless.

Part of me really wants to correct the rant. I want to see it in full formulation, concise, and brilliant.

The other part of me realizes that to say anything is poking a rabid bull. More mistakes = more angry = less receptive to edits, criticism, and conversation.

But it would be so brilliant edited.

Luckily, my sympathetic side that values feelings is more powerful than the side that wants to see a more precise argument :)

I also know I'm guilty of the same when I rant and most people don't prod at the angry cat, so it's a valued reciprocity.

People Have Emotions? You MUST Be Joking!

Okay, so the title is a little sarcastic, but I think it's warranted.

I'm very weary of seeing my friends chastised and criticized for being honest and open when it comes to feelings.

I don't know what it is about the internet, but there seems to be a growing tendency where I see a friend or family member share struggle or ask for some opinions on a sensitive subject and it's met with animosity or sarcasm.

I don't understand what it is about electronic communication that somehow makes it okay to make fun of how someone feels or attack them for looking for pity.

I do believe that some people use the internet to create drama and I don't like to have friends that are constantly sad, down on themselves, and acting like life has no meaning without good reason, but if you can't respond and be helpful, sympathetic, or add something real to a conversation, why are you responding at all?

I guess I wish I understood this form of trolling. I also don't understand that after being attacked by a person for posting something sincere, why does the writer remain friends with the sarcastic jerk?

I can't criticize that last point too much because I used to just ignore crude or demeaning comments, but the truth is, if you can't relate and be real with someone, what's the point of having an avenue of contact with them even if it is just Facebook or Twitter?

How I Feel About Getting Older

Born in TX 7:20 am January 18, 1985.

I'm 28 today. It's interesting though, two months ago, I kept stating that I was turning 29. In order to calculate my age, I have to look at the age of my daughter. Whatever age she is in January, I add 20, and that's how old I am turning.

When did that happen? When did it become so unimportant to notice the passage of time and aging?

When I was young...I can't say I was always extremely excited, but there was something novel about the next year, the next milestone, the next privilege. I suppose the same is true as to how I feel about my kids growing up. I notice it. I celebrate and mourn each growth, each moment lost to age while still being amazed and enthralled by it.

Time belongs to my children, and I believe it belonged to me when I was a child. It was so much more important then.

I used to think that I would feel old by now. Despite my jokes about aches and pains now and again--I am amazed by how young 28 really is. Even looking at my mom and my gram--I don't see old people. When I was a child, anyone over 20 was ancient. I was in a rush to grow up, but also much more critical of age.

I also thought I'd stop learning and growing by now. There's an assumption (up until the teenage years) that adults actually know what they're talking about in regard to life, the universe, and everything.

Unfortunately, there is no guide, no correct way to do everything, no goal at which you've attained perfection in adulthood. It's all more learning, more trial and error, and sometimes I'm able to notice how amazing it all is.

Happy Birthday, LK. 28 years young and looking forward to the next year. I still have a lifetime to learn, discover, and grow. Huzzah!

For Non-Parents...on Stories Told by Parents

Recently, for various reasons, many of my mother and father friends have been accused of making up things that their kids say and things that their kids do.

For those of you who have forgotten the absolutely non-nonsensical world of being a child, I assure you, we could not make these things up if we tried.

Spend time with children--they will drive you absolutely batty if you try to determine the reasoning behind their world view.

Their minds are not muddled by facts and the logic that we so easily frame our world with. They see actions, reactions, people, and things very differently from adults and I think it's easy to forget that.

There is something absolutely adorable and entirely aggravating about children. I've often asked my three-year-son why he's done something, and he'll respond that he did it because the chair is blue or because he likes chips. This makes absolute sense to him.

My daughter will insist that she's never done anything fun in her life...right after returning from a museum or a birthday party at Chuck E Cheese where she'd been ecstatic stating how much fun she was having.

Their concerns are more immediate, they forget things faster, react quicker, and move between activities and ideas like wildfire. The first reaction of most adults is to reason with a child, trying to make them see why what they're saying or doing doesn't make sense.

I'd encourage a different approach. Although it's necessary to introduce logic and facts and reasoning into a child's repertoire, I challenge you to ask questions instead.

There really is no use telling a child how they should think, but if we listen, and open that conversation into the craziness that is the experience of children, there's a lot to be gained. Children are amazing humbling tools--sometimes we need a reminder that adults take themselves too seriously.

Work LK vs. Home LK

When I am at work, I am a workhorse. I make calls, send e-mails, and go until I finish everything that can possibly be done for things related to my work. I am thorough, I am efficient, and I am always trying to best myself.

And then...I go home.

When I am at home, I am a procrastinator. I do small projects, take time to snuggle into soft things, make random messes in the middle of projects, listening to music and dancing when I should be folding laundry.

Obviously, I am happier at home, but who isn't?

I just wish I could take a little bit of the carefree, goofy, at home me and mix it with the focused, diligent at work me.

Redefining Love

I used to think that love just was--it soaked into your soul like sun permeates your skin when you're not wearing sunscreen.

I'm starting not to feel that way. I think that if you really love someone, there are things you're willing to be, to think, to do.

If you love someone, you're comfortable enough and willing to accept their faults, but you're also willing to accept responsibility for them. You would not turn your back on them, you would not be ashamed of parts of their life, and you would not worry about what other people think of your love. When you're truly in something, you should be able to feel pride and excitement about your love.

If you love someone, you accept and love what they see in you. Your faults are something you wish you could see through their eyes, but there's a willingness on both sides to want to grow--together.

If you love someone, you can be at ease around them. There are time for apologies, but none of those apologies should be for who you are, what you like, or for an opinion. Love isn't really about compromise--it's about acceptance.

I know I'm just starting to work on a new definition of love and I'm happier than I can ever remember being. By learning to accept and laugh at my own shortcomings, I'm better able to love the imperfections and habits of those people I care about.

Love extends. Although when I started writing this a couple months ago, it was about romantic love, I've found over the course of the last two months that the love in friendship and for family is very similar.

I could be annoyed, angry, or saddened by the things that my friends or my family do, or I can accept them for it and move on. I don't want life to be defined by the things that I dislike or disagree with. I want my life to be defined by love--it's incredibly difficult, but I care about the people in my life.

On hard days, I should be able to cry without excuse or feeling like I've ruined something. On fun days, I should be able to laugh out loud at an awkward moment. Never apologize for being yourself and don't expect someone you truly love to apologize either.

Love is created.

Learning to Relish a Moment

I've haven't been writing much lately. Not for the absence of ideas, but more because of the way I've been spending my time.

I had a tendency to live in my head, thinking all of the time, and sometimes allowing life to slip by me.

I noticed that although I was a part of critical, amazing moments, I examined them, sorted them, stewed over them instead of relishing in their beauty.

I've tried to worry less about whether I'm doing everything right and more about whether I'm entirely present when I'm with my loved ones.

I've spent less time planning and deciding how things ought to be done and how many pictures ought to be taken. (This one is hard...I always want pictures of everything, but I've been trying to remind myself that if I'm not experiencing the moments, the pictures aren't genuine anyway.)

I think it's very easy with access to social media and email constantly to lose track of why we started using those media in the first place--to connect.

I have a much easier time putting my phone or camera down than I did six months ago, but I still have a ways to go. I want the people and experiences in my life to have my full attention, especially my loved ones--I don't want a picture to be the only thing I remember from a moment.

In light of this, I've also found that I'm not happy when I'm not creative. (Really this isn't an epiphany, it's an inconvenient fact that I remember now and again.)

I'm trying to come to some sort of happy medium between living and experiencing while also expressing myself, so hopefully I'll start blogging a bit more.