I am by no means superstitious.  However, on days when things either fall into place or fall apart, I do heed the signs bestowed upon me by my surroundings, controlled by the forces that be.  

For example, when I do all the things that could possibly end up terribly wrong, and survive unscathed, I stop pushing my luck.  I appreciate and realize the notion that perhaps, in this place and time, I belong where I am.

When things fall apart - when everything seems to be going wrong, and I have to travel somewhere, or I have some mundane appointment to go to, I stay home.  If unusual things happen to prevent my day from going as planned, especially if I had out of the ordinary plans in place, I just let whatever is supposed to happen, and not stress about it.  When things break, or accidents happen; when the day goes by so unusually wrong, yet I am left standing, I know better than to complain about the little things.  Instead, I amount it to the Universe's only way of telling me where I go from here.

A little less than a year ago, I came across a profound statement.

Time is the most valuable currency.

This struck me as an epiphany because ever since I had been able to work, I, like most people, was mistaken in thinking that the only time that had value in it was when I was on the clock for a job.  I am so thankful that an enlightened soul shared this notion.  Life is so incredibly short.  It saddens me that people's lives are so filled with having to earn a living and not spending enough time enjoying whatever pleases them.  

There are many people who are unable to get work right now.  To them, I want to say.  When you spend your time doing something, whether it be at a job, or with a person, you invest your time.  I understand that life is stressful and bills need to be paid, but if you are still here, without risking sounding insensitive or condescending, I will dare to say it could be so much worse.  No amount of money can buy you more time.  For as long as you are still here, things will get better.  They might get worse before they get better, but if you're all the way down in the downy-dumps, as they say, there is nowhere else to go but up.  

When you are wealthy in the time department, enrich your life and the lives of those around you.  Teach yourself something new, even if you can't afford to go back to school, indulge yourself at the public library.  Teach yourself how to sew, paint, crochet, dance - Find Your Thing.  Then, do your thing.  Feed your soul.  Find your joy.  Time is of the essence, and every second wasted is a second you can never earn back.  Just because you are jobless, does not make you worthless.  Invest your time in yourself, invest your time wisely.  Unemployment leaves you free to do whatever you've always wanted to do, but couldn't, because you had to commit your time to work.  Your time to work will come again, and in your free moments, you can go back to doing that thing you didn't know you loved to do.

During my formative years, I had maids.  I did not know that they were on the household's payroll to take care of me, all I knew is that I felt loved and cared for.  

There is something undeniably lovely about being catered to.  Whether it was my Mother taking care of me whenever I was sick, or my Nanny ordering a box of my favorite cheesy snack, or my Father cooking breakfast...that feeling that I felt whenever anyone did anything nice for me, I have always wanted to share.

To be of service to someone does not make one subservient.  To be of service to someone, especially when affecting a stranger, is to show that one is capable of the act of unquestionably loving.

One of the utmost acts of service is sharing inspiration.  It takes so very little to inspire someone, and it takes even less to destroy someone's dreams.

I make an effort to be kind to everyone I encounter.  It isn't always easy, but it is so worth it to see the enlightened expression upon's someone's face who has just experienced unsolicited kindness.  I also make it a point to be kind to people who are unkind to me.  It has nothing to do with being weak, or encouraging stupid behavior. Rather, I am stubborn, and I refuse to allow some nasty little person to change my essence.

The little things that allow us to touch one another either in a tangible or spiritual way that uplifts is a form of service.

Bring a little joy to someone today.  

It's a joy that will come right back.  

When I can not run, I allow myself the human luxury of what I can only compare to mentally imploding.  I know part of it is what goes on in my head, and the other part is my withdrawal from all the lovely happy hormones I have gotten so accustomed to producing on a regular, nearly daily basis.  I am again writing about illness.  Not because I enjoy dwelling in one of the less-inspiring aspects of being alive, but because so much can be learned and drawn during a bout with illness.

One of the advantages to being sick is all the time in bed - I have been in bed for so long, I can't wait to get up and stay up.  Sleeping in no longer appeals to me.  I am eating carbs like nobody's business because protein is too heavy in my stomach.  I have eaten over half a dozen bowls of noodle soup with rice and crackers.  All the things that are not part of "normalcy" become "normal" for a time during period of recovery.  I know I do whatever I can to make myself heal more quickly.  I do what it takes because I am desperate to feel better.

This entry is not meant to be an esoteric approach on how to survive a sinus infection, because I know that people live through much more.  I have seen the faces of progress. Seemingly everyday humans who possess superhuman resilience.  If I have not seen their faces, I have at least heard some of their stories.

It is a humbling and awe-inspiring privilege to watch a person thrive amidst illness.

I have a friend

...who was recently diagnosed with cancer, had the operation, and is now cancer-free.

...who is struggling with depression, and she is fighting it, tooth and nail.  She is doing so without medication and very little therapy.

...who lives with chronic pain, like millions of others, who is one of the strongest people I know.

...who is un-learning a lifetime's worth of unhealthy behavior, and is now living the life she has always wanted.

...who can never get better and no one can seem to figure out what the problem is.

All these people I know, and many more whose names I shall never know, are miracles. They are living inspiration who refuse to allow their physiological state to define them. From them I draw strength.

As I suffer through this nuisance of a cold, I would not dare complain - I simply watch those around me...inspired to be a witness to human greatness.





       

I remember what it felt like when I hated my life.  I absolutely hated my breaths.  On more than one occasion, I thought I would have been better off dead.  I went months without laughing, even if my life was one many would have loved to live.

I thought that my hatred was due to my lack of friends, lack of money, and lack of love.

I was lonely.

I was constantly surrounded by people who pretended to adore me, yet I felt utterly alone.  I felt like I was in the middle of a room, surrounded by people who smiled at my face whenever they looked at me, but once they looked away, if I chose to start screaming, they would have never bestowed upon me another glance.  I thought I wanted a lot of friends who had excess of everything.

I felt out of place.

Then, the money came.  In piles, in bucketfuls, in bank accounts, it came.  I had so much of it, and I did not know what to do with it, so I spent it because shopping gave me instant gratification.  I experienced little bursts of happiness from spending what I made.  I thought having loads of money would fix me.    

I wanted to feel loved.

Then, he came.  Everything I thought I wanted arrived, perfectly packaged, in one person.  At least, I thought he was everything I wanted.  That is, until I knew him better and he became less of what I wanted.  It's funnily dangerous how a person can turn into a drug.  Time with him sucked the life of me, yet I could never get enough.  Time away was spent recovering from him.  He made me feel loved.

But he couldn't have possibly loved me properly for I hated myself.

Unbeknownst to me, I had been battling a mental illness that developed over the course of a decade.  It began when I was a teenager.  The years preceding my adolescence were happy ones.  I was a joyful, spoiled child.  I thought the sun rose and set just for me.  I thought that the people around me existed for my well-being and happiness.  As soon as I began coming to the realization that my version of the truth was not true, I felt like I had no control over anything around me.  I learned long and hard that my control never actually existed.  A life event occurred that left me feeling like my world was spiraling out of control.  When that happened, I began feeling nothing more than hollowing sadness.  The sort of sadness that does not even feel like sadness when it sets in.  It felt like breathing death.  My world had fallen apart, and I wanted to know why time still went on.  I began bingeing and purging.  I then would eat very little so that I would not purge so much, because I hated the way it made me feel.  Whenever I did eat, it would happen all over again.  I battled bulimia and anorexia for the better part of ten years.  I did it because I desperately wanted control over something...anything.  My estimation was that the only thing I could control was whatever happened to my body.  It ended up being a body I hated, so I abused it.  I was never satisfied with how I looked in high school and in my early twenties.  I didn't care enough to be self-conscious, I just did what made me feel pretty and didn't care about much more.

I loathed my parents, I thought older adults were misguided, and that the world according to me made more sense.  I lashed out, I became rebellious, which is sad because my parents rarely ever said, "no," to me, because my requests were not unreasonable.  I guess because of my state of mind, I just had to hate on someone, or something.  I had this boyfriend for the later part of my teen years who ended teaching me my biggest lessons on, "What to Avoid in a Significant Other at All Costs."  I was a mess, he was himself, and thank God that ended with a clean break.

I worked and attended college, but I was still miserable.  I couldn't shake it.  No one was ever good enough.  Nothing was ever good enough.  I could not figure out what in my world I could change to give me a purpose.  On my days off, I stayed in bed.  For no reason, I burst into tears.  I tried to do everything for everybody to make them happy even though I had forgotten what happiness felt like.  I dated all the wrong men.  I befriended all the wrong BFFs.  I kept putting my faith in all the wrong people and things.   I'm sure my family knew something had been amiss in me for a few years, but for the most part, they used tough love to try and snap me out of it.  It didn't work, it only pushed me away.  

It was not until I had a severe, crippling meltdown when I had fallen, shattered into a million pieces, that I knew I needed to change some things. 

That was when I knew I had to make one of two choices: stay shattered, or use every way I could humanly figure out in order to put myself together again.  I knew exactly how Humpty Dumpty felt.

Everyone I knew who had given me anything other than goodness, with the exemption of my family, I cut loose.  I packed my things, got up, and left.  I went into myself.  I became a hermit.  I suffered from mild anxiety, so it was no problem at all the find things within the safe confines of home to keep me occupied.  I reached out and held on to friends whom I knew loved me and didn't care about enabling me.  I sought those who helped me feel better.  Even if at times, I found solace in those who filled the spaces of my tumultuous past within the pages of my snake-skin bound journal.

I clung to fond memories of beach trips and sipping on vodka-soaked Crystal Light slushies upon the beautiful shores of the cold, damp, wintery beach.      

I re-lived the fights with friends who soon after became strangers.  I forgave myself for the things I said, and for the things I left unsaid.

I still felt the ache I constantly felt for wanting something more, without knowing what that something actually was.  

There is something inherently and undeniably sad about having everything and still feeling nothing.  I remember an encounter I had with a man whom I knew to be a billionaire.  He was so hollow.  I remember seeing this empty look in his eyes.  He was telling me about his jet plane collection, the trips he liked to take his family on, his stock portfolio and something about derivatives (something I only learned about more recently).  I remember him saying something to the effect of, "No matter how many planes I can make take off the ground, I can still say I am not sure what it feels like to fly.  I just go through the motions."


How sad to live life of flying without ever feeling the wind.

I did not want to live another moment and feel that way.

It is only by grace and love that I am alive today.  My journey that has finally brought me to finally being healthy.  It was more difficult than I had anticipated, but of course, it was worth it.  It is, after all, my life.  I was desperate to become healthy, and although I fought quietly alone,  I have encountered so many people along the way.  They have all, both good and bad, left an imprint that I carry with me because from them I know better.

In all the ways that pressure turns carbon into a diamond, the really awful times have molded me.  

The good times have been the sun, setting off my sparkle. 

Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed about.  Many people suffer from mental illnesses of different levels- mild, moderate to severe.  Many people remain without being diagnosed do not realize that something is really medically wrong.  From a chemical imbalance to an unbearable home/work/life situation, or a combination of both, may stem too many days that feel unlivable.

If you or someone you know may be suffering from one of the many forms of mental illness, please seek help.  Speak with a physician, or locate a counselor.
There are ways to get help in order begin the steps for diagnosis and treatment.

National Institute of Mental Health

Life is too precious for anyone to feel like they have to suffer through it.

I came upon a box today.  When I opened it, out came sheets of my past - all the things I thought I had left behind, I suddenly held within my hands.  The handwriting upon the paper brought back memories.  All the bad came back in waves, then the good flushed through my soul, as if none of it ever went away.  It felt as though all the good things that they were a part of had been a part of me all this time, I had only simply forgotten.  I then came across it.  The piece of tangible memory that brought me all the way back.  Funny how time has a way of hiding things.  I thought all of this had been erased, it hadn't been.  It's still here.  All of it - the good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly.  The painful memories resonate the most.  I think it's because I am wired to equate surviving pain to be synonymous with power.

Sometimes, the greatest gift we're given is not some tangible thing, nor the most beautiful.  Sometimes, the greatest gift comes when someone we love more than any and everything...walks away.  It is only then that we are left, to ourselves, by ourselves, in order to heal the wounds, and conceal our battle scars.

It was then, and only then, that I was able to experience what real strength felt like.   

Every few generations, a person comes along who completely annihilates the way in which people operate by making the world a more interesting place to live.  There was Edison, Graham-Bell, Ford, Lincoln (William - invented film), and Jobs.

Steve Jobs passed away yesterday, at the age of fifty-six years young.  However, he will be immortalized by the innovation that is synonymous with his name.  His impact upon the relationship between humans and technology is one that has completely shattered the precepts which existed prior to his inventions.  Steve had the instinctive methodology that took a concept, or an item, and brought it to such a heightened level of sophisticated simplicity that makes nearly all things possible.  The driving force behind his ingenuity was simply his love for the work he set out to accomplish.  I am sure that every man and woman who purchase one of the many Apple devices feel the wonder they felt when they were children on Christmas morning when they first begin playing with it.

I think the collective sadness that has followed Steve Jobs' death is one that carries a tone of yearning.  Wondering how much more could he have contributed?  What more could he have imagined?  What other elements of daily life could he have upgraded, in the way only he knew how.

For as long as I live, I will at the very least own and cherish an iPod.  The one I have now is a second generation, nearly five years old, and I use it to make the most mundane tasks more exciting.  My iPod is now more than just an MP4 player.  It is a daily reminder that one day, I too will be leaving this earth, and I will live only through the legacy I leave behind.  I will in no way, shape, nor form leave a fraction of the impact as Mr. Jobs has.  Although I believe that in the very least, so long as I, "think outside the box," and I, "never settle," I will function to the best of my ability due to the sheer joy with which I accomplish my goals.  

Thank you, Steve Jobs, for the inspiration and the advice.

Because of you, I will

"Stay hungry, stay foolish."

You are the master of your destiny.  Whether you want to accept that responsibility or not is irrelevant.  Things in life happen only if you allow them to.  Mind you, I do believe in the higher power that creates and controls the energy that exists within the Universe, but without you, your past, your present, your future...simply would not exist.

The future belongs to the one who will live through it.  The past belongs to the one who has become better from it.  The present is what makes the time ahead possible.  People are so quick to wash their hands of control over the future, or emotions, or circumstances.  It's imperative that we realize that yes, there are things that happen in life that are beyond the realm of human control.  Although the action that ensues the circumstance is entirely based upon will.  Even every reaction is will-based.

Only you can decide what you want, and only you can make it happen for yourself.  Don't ever look at that as anything less than an amazing gift. 

When I run outside, I encounter butterflies.  They either fly behind me or almost fly into me, and no matter how many times I see one, each time is like the first and I catch myself staring.   Perhaps I was a butterfly in my past life.

Maybe they're reminders that no matter what transformation I have to go through, my time in the cocoon will be well worth it.  When the time is right - I'm ready, I'll fly freely, too.

Dearest Past,

You were exactly what you needed to be to me.  If it had not been for you, I would not be here as I am now.  You loved me, taught me, enriched me, encouraged me, confided in me, hated me, ridiculed me, betrayed me, neglected me, and thankfully, you let me move forward.  You did all that you should have, in order to mold me into the woman I am today.  I can not change you, and I realize that wasting my remaining moments on the things I should have, could have, might have proves to be detrimental to my present.  You have given me such beautiful gifts along the way, and for that I will be forever grateful.

In order for me to move forward in love, I must forgive myself, so that I may forgive others.  It is in my best interest to let you go.  You have done what you needed to for me, and I hope I justified the time I was granted.  There are no mistakes, only lessons.  I have learned from the bad, and smile upon the memories of the good.

This moment is all I have.  My remaining moments become less and less each second.  I can not afford to waste one second more on anything less than peace.

All my gratitude,