Differences That Don't Belong or The Truth Behind Our Differences

Makiya was racing around the play area, trying to find someone to play with, deciding which piece of equipment to tackle next, pleasantly occupied, so I wandered back over to my mom and her husband, who was intently watching a group of kids playing on the spinner. He quickly filled me in on what he had just witnessed; a little boy, only six or seven years old, nastily, physically, and roughly pushed two girls to the side as he forced his way onto the spinner, proclaiming that “the man goes first!”

I sputtered, coughed, choked as he relayed the story, and my attention returned to the boy. What I continued to see stunned me; I felt sickened.

He seemed to zero in on one little girl in particular, who was only around the age of three. He would literally charge towards her, like a bull having spotted a red flag; the cartoon image of smoke streaming from his ears and flared nostrils flitted through my mind. He pulled her back towards the spinner, yelling something at her as he shoved her forward, and then tossed her aside as he again hopped onto the spinner. There was another, older girl, who tried to intervene, telling him to stop and reminding him of how little this other child was, but he had no qualms about showering aggression back upon her. I stood there, doing a little tippy-toe dance as I felt drawn in, needing to intervene, but then more parents would slide in front, blocking me, only to move again, giving me access to the situation once again; back and forth, back and forth, should I say something, should I not… He paced back and forth, between the two identical spinners, huffing and puffing, “Grrr… the girls get this one too?!” Finally, there was a threat to tell, and an interest in the location of his mom, and the boy raced off.

It took a few moments to locate the mother, sitting, hidden behind the climbing bars and slide, chatting away with another mother. It didn’t take long to realize she wasn’t paying attention to the actions of her son, and even less time to consider that, even at the young age of six or seven, it was very possible this little boy left his mother feeling intimidated, perhaps even scared.

This little boy carried himself with a look upon his face unlike anything I have seen in a child, or maybe I have, in a horror movie. Evil came to mind afterwards, harsh, but true. He looked more like an adult male, a man who had been tortured and tormented, left in a state of rage.

Glad that he hadn’t attempted to unleash any of his hostility on my own daughter, I tried to distract myself from it, and we soon left the play area. As we left, we came upon the boy again. He had removed his shoes and had his feet in the fish ponds; we were in an indoor natural area. He quickly pulled out of the water as he shouted threats at another, older boy and went running after him.

The whole situation left me feeling very agitated and angry, and a little judgemental. I spewed off a few things, including that he would likely spend a lot of time in jail, at an early age.

What it was in truth, was, and is a very sad situation; that a child so young could have been shown, taught and lived through enough horror to leave him in such a state.

(While there are some details that I have purposely left out, in an attempt not to offend anyone, the roots of this little boys actions and words are buried in his family, their lifestyle and beliefs... While I respect all of our insights, beliefs, ways of life, and the right to them, there are differences that are sometimes shown to be just plain offensive and inappropriate.)

Day of the Grumpy Bitch

No beating around the bush on this one; I was a grumpy bitch today.

“Why?” and “What’s wrong?” were certainly not the questions I wanted to answer. I am sure the loud, high pitched response, “What isn’t wrong?!” wasn’t the desired answer to the questions either.

It wasn’t just one thing, it was several things weighing heavily on the mind, and that damn Tupperware lid that ceased to appear was just icing on the whole disgusting cake.

It’s definitely been one of those days where the crazy just keeps piling up, and, there was no relief to be found for the tight looking, screwed up face with eyes that could kill if you look too deeply into them.

As the day finally begins to wind down, the tears begin to fall.

Regret at wasting a day being stuck in such a dark place, not finding (enough) time to laugh and giggle with my girl and allowing anger, sarcasm and impatience to rule instead.

Well, it was what it was. No changing that now.

I did what I could, and that’s that.

Tomorrow is a new day.

Bring on the beautiful, fresh new day. Let the sun shine brightly and the laughter flow freely.

I can’t wait.

Lessons in Gratitude?

“Cream of the crop” is a phrase I have heard repeated often during this past month.

I have listened to the words and rolled them repeatedly around my mouth and my mind. I have had a difficult time allowing them to register within me. They feel tainted by arrogance and smugness in many ways. If I step back, really take several paces backwards, I can see the words spelling out something far greater, something reserved for an elite part of society. Isn’t that funny?

My mind ponders the reality that each and every one of us will process the same situation in an entirely different light; none of us will truly ever experience the same moment in the same way as the person next to us. It doesn’t matter who that person beside us is.

So if we are to live a moment completely separate from those close to us, how is it possible to place judgments or condemnation upon them for their actions in the face of what lies before us? We cannot possibly fully comprehend that place from which their emotions and responses are born, not being immersed inside their mind ourselves, so how can we pretend to understand their actions?

However, there are some basic, hmm, I don’t know, courtesies, respects, LOVE that would and should come with these other things that may arise. Wouldn’t we think?

This month has reached peak levels in so many different places in my life, and instead of feeling more bonded, with anyone, I feel much more separate and alone. My eyes have opened wider, and sadly, parts of what, amazingly, still remained of my innocence, have been lost.

I feel far from what I imagine the phrase “Cream of the crop” to entail.

Somewhere, at the moment buried deeply, I can hear, and almost see other words calling out to me; “You ARE where you should be at this time. You ARE strong enough and you WILL make it through this time. Exactly on time, as you are intended to.”

In the end, it really doesn’t matter how the others respond. It matters how I respond. How I learn and grow from what these experiences are teaching me.

I guess what I need to do is take a standpoint of Gratitude. I need to appreciate that which has been placed on my path, for it has all been lessons offered. I only need to accept the gift.

Some Days Are Just Tough

There are days that I feel as though there is not a single thing that goes the way I would like; unfortunately those days often occur when I have looked forward to the day eagerly.

I find myself looking after the needs of others, answering and fulfilling THEIR every desire, only to find that each SMALL thing that I envisioned has fallen to the side or deemed un-important. After many hours of trying to happily comply and push my own feelings of let-down away, I inevitably find myself “grim and grumpy”.

By the time I reach that point, I tend to feel justified, and therefore content to stay in my mood. But, I also have the moments where I question what the hell I am doing?!

I can feel the others light tip-toes around me, their attempts to bring me back and I begin to feel guilty; so I pay attention to what I could be missing, I try to remind myself to be present in the moment.

I then move onto thinking why what I want should be considered any less important than what is on everyone else’s agenda? Why should their interests override my own?

Since baby girl came into our lives, I have found myself in this dilemma more often. I get frustrated at the lack of understanding and respect that people have for the job I now have; the job that doesn’t quit just because I want a break or someone else wants to do something different! I understand that some people aren’t in that situation now, “been there and done it”, or even they just have a different attitude towards being a parent; but I find it difficult at times to have enough patience to deal with it all in one day!

There are so many things racing through my mind at any given moment aside from that which is actually happening; things that no one aside from my husband, and sometimes not even him, would understand or appreciate the magnitude of.

I try to remind myself that all we have is THIS moment, but when the weight of so many other things exists, it becomes difficult at times to just forget…

Action MUST Be Required...

Oh my goodness.

My heart is racing, I feel like I am vibrating and I did shed a few tears.

Given horrifying news that leaves me desperate to act and yet asked to not repeat a word.

Pride (and relief) in a strong, courageous, brave and ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY decision.

Utter shock and disgust.

Total understanding, relation and empathy; but impelled to confront in one way or another.

A new role, new issues and concerns; more responsibility, deeper thinking and inevitably I suppose, more heartache, worry and desire to protect.

If I allow this to remain inside much longer, I may actually explode!

If I act upon my instincts, chaos will certainly erupt.

Several possible avenues of action to take; depending on one’s own filter, the answer may be obvious. Silence (in the hopes it really will NEVER happen again), physical retaliation (a desperate, in-grained, protective, adrenaline rush, eye-for-an-eye punishment) or perhaps even a phone call to the cops (almost never the preferred action, but one wonders…maybe this time it SHOULD happen…).

Asked NOT to speak to my best friend, my “confidante”, my partner, lover and husband; the one that every inch, every fiber of my being is calling out for me to turn to. Isn’t that a sign in itself? I actually pride myself on not being ABLE to hide things (ok, confusing women, mental issues aside!) from my husband; I tell him EVERYTHING! In confidence, non-life threatening things said to me are one thing, but when there is a serious twist to it, young and un-informed, uneducated and innocent to the SERIOUS things in life…even with the promise that there will be no opportunity, no option for these events to occur again… I KNOW what can happen inside of our minds. I KNOW the excuses we can be given, the apologies and promises.

Mmmmmppphhhh (inhale) ….hhhhhhhhmmmmpppphhh (exhale) ….

I really need to sit with this one for a short time, and I think re-visit the conversation before ultimately deciding to open my mouth and let the words pour out…

Letting go of "Angry"

Anger and frustration are snaky little “emotions”. It can be seemingly easy to allow anger to take over and control our actions and reactions, but aren’t we only succeeding in adding unnecessary chaos into our life?

When I was a teenager, I was full of anger and frustration; aren’t we all at that age?! I came to a point where began to believe that I achieved more of what I “wanted” when I portrayed myself in that manner; a hard shell that was easily provoked. Being mad was normal then and at times showed up as violence as well. Of course, now I see the reality of those days, feelings and the role I created for myself, they only succeeded in causing more things to BE angry and frustrated ABOUT!

Then, I moved onto where I am now; the anger and frustrations can still exist, but I don’t allow them to show their faces in the way I used to. Now, I hold them tightly inside, where they fight with each other for space as each continues to grow. Sure, I get mad, but now I keep the frustrations of it all quiet, only letting loose at times that tend to appear out of the blue.

Because it is! I let go when I am caught up INSIDE myself with OTHER thoughts, and so, as the story goes, I am not releasing that which is really bothering me!

It is a dangerous little path to follow. When we really have other things that are on our plate, instead of voicing those problems, giving a name to them and acknowledging them, we end up exploding on those around us in a situation so un-equal to that which is playing in our minds. We leave those around us shocked and confused.

I certainly don’t need to hold onto any feelings of anger, I know that is pointless. Frustrations are another story. I am responsible for any frustrations I have, I make the choice on how I will be affected by a given situation; If I don’t like it, I have the responsibility to myself to do what is required to make the change. I also don’t desire to hurt those around me with nasty words that have nothing to do with them.

I know I have work to do but I also know that there are many others who should get to work as well! And it will take some time to really get there. I need to learn to not blame others for situations that I may very well have contributed to as well, and accept that we all have things to work on within ourselves. I need to DEAL with what bothers me or LET IT GO instead of keeping it all inside where it has the ability to pop up at anytime.

A little more compassion and understanding; acceptance and thoughtful insight; we are all learning, and sometimes, we just need a little help to see that.