I have no idea why, but thank you.
love, Romy
Monday, November 21, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
This kind of certainty comes but once in a lifetime.
Five Thoughts At 12:12 a.m.
1. I can't sleep. I went to bed but I just can't fall asleep so instead I am up watching The Bridges of Madison County. I hated this movie when I first watched it over 15 years ago because I could not get into any love story that had Meryl Streep and Clint Eastwood. *funny side note - my sister got my brother in law to take her to see this movie at the theater when it first came out by telling him it was a Clint Eastwood movie. He expected Dirty Harry and instead got a movie about a romance between two middle aged people* I didn't want to imagine anyone that old (ahem) being passionate but now that I am older, I find it more interesting. Francesca is married to a good man who adores her, has two children, a good life but yet she falls in love with another man. Over a course of 4 days a friendship evolves to a love that will last the rest of their lives even if they never see each other again. Can you carry love for that long for a person you will never see or touch again? Can you continue to face your loving spouse every single day, live your life with them while having love for another? Loving both. They continue saying that they have love you search your whole life for but she is married to a man she also loves with children she adores. So she stays with her husband. Can you make an entire life disappear to start a new one? Is it the selfish thing to stay? Or to go? I have no clue. All I know is that the consequences they must suffer are far bigger than any hurt they could cause. I think. Who knows. Watching Clint Eastwood's character standing in the rain staring at Francesca, wanting her to leave with him broke my heart. The nod and half smile telling her he understand her decision to stay was just so sad to me.
2. I wanted to have an orange today but my hands would not let me peel it. It is an incredibly hateful thing when your body betrays you. I would have cried from frustration if I thought it would help. Instead I had chips and salsa. Mmm.
3. Who knew there were so many two letter words that are acceptable to use in Words with Friends? Also, playing any game with Troy is impossible because he is a really bad winner, second only to how much or a rotten loser I am.
4. I need friends. I miss having girlfriends I can call and run around doing things with. I would love nothing more than to have someone to go get mani/pedis with, margaritas, go shopping with, gossip and just have fun with. My sister tells me that she wants to move to WA state and omg do I hope that happens. Fingers crossed. That last sentence was not an RA joke either. Ha. I am so funny at nearly 1am.
5. I've decided that yes you can love someone you never see or touch. Love is love regardless of space, time and I guess for some, even consequences.
love, Romy
1. I can't sleep. I went to bed but I just can't fall asleep so instead I am up watching The Bridges of Madison County. I hated this movie when I first watched it over 15 years ago because I could not get into any love story that had Meryl Streep and Clint Eastwood. *funny side note - my sister got my brother in law to take her to see this movie at the theater when it first came out by telling him it was a Clint Eastwood movie. He expected Dirty Harry and instead got a movie about a romance between two middle aged people* I didn't want to imagine anyone that old (ahem) being passionate but now that I am older, I find it more interesting. Francesca is married to a good man who adores her, has two children, a good life but yet she falls in love with another man. Over a course of 4 days a friendship evolves to a love that will last the rest of their lives even if they never see each other again. Can you carry love for that long for a person you will never see or touch again? Can you continue to face your loving spouse every single day, live your life with them while having love for another? Loving both. They continue saying that they have love you search your whole life for but she is married to a man she also loves with children she adores. So she stays with her husband. Can you make an entire life disappear to start a new one? Is it the selfish thing to stay? Or to go? I have no clue. All I know is that the consequences they must suffer are far bigger than any hurt they could cause. I think. Who knows. Watching Clint Eastwood's character standing in the rain staring at Francesca, wanting her to leave with him broke my heart. The nod and half smile telling her he understand her decision to stay was just so sad to me.
2. I wanted to have an orange today but my hands would not let me peel it. It is an incredibly hateful thing when your body betrays you. I would have cried from frustration if I thought it would help. Instead I had chips and salsa. Mmm.
3. Who knew there were so many two letter words that are acceptable to use in Words with Friends? Also, playing any game with Troy is impossible because he is a really bad winner, second only to how much or a rotten loser I am.
4. I need friends. I miss having girlfriends I can call and run around doing things with. I would love nothing more than to have someone to go get mani/pedis with, margaritas, go shopping with, gossip and just have fun with. My sister tells me that she wants to move to WA state and omg do I hope that happens. Fingers crossed. That last sentence was not an RA joke either. Ha. I am so funny at nearly 1am.
5. I've decided that yes you can love someone you never see or touch. Love is love regardless of space, time and I guess for some, even consequences.
love, Romy
Friday, November 11, 2011
A Tale Of Two Fathers
My biological father died late June on a plane somewhere between Texas and New Jersey. I didn't find out until he was gone for weeks that he had passed. Why? Because I was a stubborn, stubborn and now very ashamed daughter.
Our story isn't one I readily share. I will not give many details, mainly out of respect but also because it is a part of my life that is very personal. Confusing too. I don't know how to act, react, how to feel, what to say. I don't know much of anything at this point.
He loved me a lot. I found out when I was in my 20's that he was my biological father but he had been around my entire life. We looked exactly alike. There are hundreds of pictures of me at his house, of me on his lap as baby/toddler/young child, kissing him, laughing with him, with my older sisters and us. Hundreds. Most of the pictures of him and I, I am looking right at him. I would ask him, "why do you look like me!". He would say in his beautiful speaking voice, "because when you love someone with all your heart, you start to resemble each other". I would laugh and continue to touch his face that was identical to my own. Same lips, same beauty marks, same nose, same eyes, same feet, same hands and even the way we stand. Straight back, head up and looking like there was always purpose to be in that exact spot. He would walk into any room and it would light up. He had a smile that was infectious, everyone says that we have the same smile. I like to think it is true. I adored him. Until I found out he was my biological father. To be honest I think I figured it out a long time before then. Why else the outpouring of unconditional love from a man who was just a family friend? Why did he love my sisters so much? Which btw, they were not his children. The moment I found out he was my biological father something inside me switched off. I felt betrayed. Cheated. What about my beloved father that I grieve and miss daily? What about him? Is he in heaven feeling like I am betraying him? I was lost. There were so many other factors involved that left me reeling. It was too much to absorb so I retreated.
We spoke a few times a year, I would visit him when I was in town, he would write me letters and always tell me how much he loved me. My entire life he would call me honeydew, my pretty, mi nina linda and Romita. I loved him. I loved him more than I thought I did. The last few days I realized that loving him was not a betrayal to anyone. Our situation hurt him even more than it did me. I was too selfish to realize it. He lived knowing he had a daughter that he loved more than anything else in the world and she refused to accept him as her father. Once I found out who he really was, I stopped calling him by any name. Prior to that I called him Tio, which is Spanish for uncle. Once I knew he was my father, I didn't call him anything. I was an asshole. What would it have cost me to call him dad? Nothing. Nothing. I thought I had time though. I thought that we had time to fix our relationship. I thought I had time to call him dad. I was so damn wrong.
One of our last conversations, I asked him if I was his biggest sin. He said to me "no, mi nina...you are my greatest blessing".
My father died January 1, 1984.
My father died June 28, 2011.
My heart is broken. I have no idea if I will ever be the same. I asked my husband today if he ever thought I would be completely happy again and he said, "yes, of course!". I don't know thought, I don't know if he is right. Who is ever going to love me as much as my father did? Who is going to call me Romita again? Did he die knowing I loved him? God, I would give 10 years off my life for 3 minutes with him. I would beg forgiveness for the years I was stubborn and difficult. I would tell him I loved him, that he never left my prayers, that I was proud to be his daughter. I would call him dad. Over and over again.
I am fighting with publishing this. It is so personal, but you know...I am tired of keeping quiet. My silence in all this has become my cross to bear. My back is growing weak, and my heart is broken...I can no longer carry this burden. I have nothing to hide.
I have had two amazing men call me their daughter. I loved them both. I am my fathers daughter.
love, Romy
Our story isn't one I readily share. I will not give many details, mainly out of respect but also because it is a part of my life that is very personal. Confusing too. I don't know how to act, react, how to feel, what to say. I don't know much of anything at this point.
He loved me a lot. I found out when I was in my 20's that he was my biological father but he had been around my entire life. We looked exactly alike. There are hundreds of pictures of me at his house, of me on his lap as baby/toddler/young child, kissing him, laughing with him, with my older sisters and us. Hundreds. Most of the pictures of him and I, I am looking right at him. I would ask him, "why do you look like me!". He would say in his beautiful speaking voice, "because when you love someone with all your heart, you start to resemble each other". I would laugh and continue to touch his face that was identical to my own. Same lips, same beauty marks, same nose, same eyes, same feet, same hands and even the way we stand. Straight back, head up and looking like there was always purpose to be in that exact spot. He would walk into any room and it would light up. He had a smile that was infectious, everyone says that we have the same smile. I like to think it is true. I adored him. Until I found out he was my biological father. To be honest I think I figured it out a long time before then. Why else the outpouring of unconditional love from a man who was just a family friend? Why did he love my sisters so much? Which btw, they were not his children. The moment I found out he was my biological father something inside me switched off. I felt betrayed. Cheated. What about my beloved father that I grieve and miss daily? What about him? Is he in heaven feeling like I am betraying him? I was lost. There were so many other factors involved that left me reeling. It was too much to absorb so I retreated.
We spoke a few times a year, I would visit him when I was in town, he would write me letters and always tell me how much he loved me. My entire life he would call me honeydew, my pretty, mi nina linda and Romita. I loved him. I loved him more than I thought I did. The last few days I realized that loving him was not a betrayal to anyone. Our situation hurt him even more than it did me. I was too selfish to realize it. He lived knowing he had a daughter that he loved more than anything else in the world and she refused to accept him as her father. Once I found out who he really was, I stopped calling him by any name. Prior to that I called him Tio, which is Spanish for uncle. Once I knew he was my father, I didn't call him anything. I was an asshole. What would it have cost me to call him dad? Nothing. Nothing. I thought I had time though. I thought that we had time to fix our relationship. I thought I had time to call him dad. I was so damn wrong.
One of our last conversations, I asked him if I was his biggest sin. He said to me "no, mi nina...you are my greatest blessing".
My father died January 1, 1984.
My father died June 28, 2011.
My heart is broken. I have no idea if I will ever be the same. I asked my husband today if he ever thought I would be completely happy again and he said, "yes, of course!". I don't know thought, I don't know if he is right. Who is ever going to love me as much as my father did? Who is going to call me Romita again? Did he die knowing I loved him? God, I would give 10 years off my life for 3 minutes with him. I would beg forgiveness for the years I was stubborn and difficult. I would tell him I loved him, that he never left my prayers, that I was proud to be his daughter. I would call him dad. Over and over again.
I am fighting with publishing this. It is so personal, but you know...I am tired of keeping quiet. My silence in all this has become my cross to bear. My back is growing weak, and my heart is broken...I can no longer carry this burden. I have nothing to hide.
I have had two amazing men call me their daughter. I loved them both. I am my fathers daughter.
love, Romy
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Me I was holding, all of my secrets soft and hid
Push-Pull.
Do you go with your plan…the path you know and love, stabilize your emotions to live a fulfilling life full of much love or do you function at full emotional capacity and dive head first into those clouds of what you desire? If you don't will you always wonder? Why can't you have both? Who the hell knows? I know I have a lot to learn. I need to learn patience, how to open up easier, how to learn not to leave when I am hurt/angry/frustrated or at the first hint of boredom. I need to learn there are more important emotions than pride. Like compassion for those who hurt us. Or that there is fulfillment in opening up who you really are…dumping it out on a table in front of the people who matter and let them shift through your thoughts, dreams and emotions. You know all the stuff you keep under lock and key.
You light me up. Electrify me.
I function at full emotional capacity. If I think it, I do it. If I think it, I say it. If I want it, I make it happen. If it burns me, I don't learn my lesson. Ever. I just jump full steam ahead to the next thing. Dive.
Push – Pull.
Does any of this make sense to anyone else but me? God I hope not. That would just make me feel like I'm typical. Nothing worse than typical. Give me insane out of my mind passionate and erratic any single day.
love, Romy
Do you go with your plan…the path you know and love, stabilize your emotions to live a fulfilling life full of much love or do you function at full emotional capacity and dive head first into those clouds of what you desire? If you don't will you always wonder? Why can't you have both? Who the hell knows? I know I have a lot to learn. I need to learn patience, how to open up easier, how to learn not to leave when I am hurt/angry/frustrated or at the first hint of boredom. I need to learn there are more important emotions than pride. Like compassion for those who hurt us. Or that there is fulfillment in opening up who you really are…dumping it out on a table in front of the people who matter and let them shift through your thoughts, dreams and emotions. You know all the stuff you keep under lock and key.
You light me up. Electrify me.
I function at full emotional capacity. If I think it, I do it. If I think it, I say it. If I want it, I make it happen. If it burns me, I don't learn my lesson. Ever. I just jump full steam ahead to the next thing. Dive.
Push – Pull.
Does any of this make sense to anyone else but me? God I hope not. That would just make me feel like I'm typical. Nothing worse than typical. Give me insane out of my mind passionate and erratic any single day.
love, Romy
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Prayer for Grace
Sometimes it is so hard to live with grace. We all have those days when we want to crawl into bed and stay there until we can breathe again without feeling like whatever is hurting will stifle you. Not talking, not being spoken to, only sound is your own breathing…we have all been there right? But you cannot. You have to wake up and be grateful for the day, get your routine started and hope for the best. So I do. I wake up every morning next to a man who loves me even when I am unlovable and God knows how I love him right back with all that I am. I know without a doubt that I am blessed.
But there are still things that weigh on my heart, no matter how loved I am or how well I can love back. It is amazing to me how something that nourishes us can also destroy us. It seems too cruel to be real. But what can you do? You keep on keeping on, I assume. You bend and contort yourself to make sure you can handle the resistance that sometimes comes with life. I am guessing it is similar to a tree branch that grows heavy with snow. If it bends with the snow it will live to see another summer eventually or it can resist the snow, break and never again know what it will feel like without the extra weight. No sunshine on my face? Not happening. I am going to keep moving, keep my head up and hope for the sun to come back soon. It always does.
I was told once that if you believe you are who you want to be…you will become it. Seems silly, right? I thought so too but it’s true. So today I am going to wish myself whole again. I am going to take some of the pain I am carrying around with me and while I am not going to forget it, because I think we need to always remember pain… I am going to try hard to turn it into joy. I can do that. Right? Yeah, I think I can.
To everyone reading these words that may be hurting over something, either big or small, my heart goes out to you. Nothing worth anything comes without some pain. I wish you grace.
love, Romy
***
Main Entry: 1grace
Pronunciation: \ˈgrās\
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Anglo-French, from Latin gratia favor, charm, thanks, from gratus pleasing, grateful; akin to Sanskrit gṛṇāti he praises
Date: 12th century
1 a : unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration or sanctification b : a virtue coming from God c : a state of sanctification enjoyed through divine grace
2 a : approval, favor b archaic : mercy, pardon c : a special favor : privilege d : disposition to or an act or instance of kindness, courtesy, or clemency e : a temporary exemption : reprieve
3 a : a charming or attractive trait or characteristic b : a pleasing appearance or effect : charm c : ease and suppleness of movement or bearing
4 —used as a title of address or reference for a duke, a duchess, or an archbishop
5 : a short prayer at a meal asking a blessing or giving thanks
6 plural capitalized : three sister goddesses in Greek mythology who are the givers of charm and beauty
7 : a musical trill, turn, or appoggiatura
8 a : sense of propriety or right b : the quality or state of being considerate or thoughtful
But there are still things that weigh on my heart, no matter how loved I am or how well I can love back. It is amazing to me how something that nourishes us can also destroy us. It seems too cruel to be real. But what can you do? You keep on keeping on, I assume. You bend and contort yourself to make sure you can handle the resistance that sometimes comes with life. I am guessing it is similar to a tree branch that grows heavy with snow. If it bends with the snow it will live to see another summer eventually or it can resist the snow, break and never again know what it will feel like without the extra weight. No sunshine on my face? Not happening. I am going to keep moving, keep my head up and hope for the sun to come back soon. It always does.
I was told once that if you believe you are who you want to be…you will become it. Seems silly, right? I thought so too but it’s true. So today I am going to wish myself whole again. I am going to take some of the pain I am carrying around with me and while I am not going to forget it, because I think we need to always remember pain… I am going to try hard to turn it into joy. I can do that. Right? Yeah, I think I can.
To everyone reading these words that may be hurting over something, either big or small, my heart goes out to you. Nothing worth anything comes without some pain. I wish you grace.
love, Romy
***
Main Entry: 1grace
Pronunciation: \ˈgrās\
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Anglo-French, from Latin gratia favor, charm, thanks, from gratus pleasing, grateful; akin to Sanskrit gṛṇāti he praises
Date: 12th century
1 a : unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration or sanctification b : a virtue coming from God c : a state of sanctification enjoyed through divine grace
2 a : approval, favor b archaic : mercy, pardon c : a special favor : privilege d : disposition to or an act or instance of kindness, courtesy, or clemency e : a temporary exemption : reprieve
3 a : a charming or attractive trait or characteristic b : a pleasing appearance or effect : charm c : ease and suppleness of movement or bearing
4 —used as a title of address or reference for a duke, a duchess, or an archbishop
5 : a short prayer at a meal asking a blessing or giving thanks
6 plural capitalized : three sister goddesses in Greek mythology who are the givers of charm and beauty
7 : a musical trill, turn, or appoggiatura
8 a : sense of propriety or right b : the quality or state of being considerate or thoughtful
For You, I Would
Aside from my husband there is one man that I am pretty sure could make my world better. He would bring quiet, peace, harmony and joy. Sadly, it will never be because he is far too busy for me...trust me I have tried over and over again to get him to come see me. Nothing works.
Oh Cesar Millan, if life was only different...you would be here with me... helping me teach my pugs to listen, breaking MY bad habits, showing me how to keep them from peeing on my shoes, our couch and my husband's climbing gear. And that was just in one week. You would help me be more strict...keep them from making me their bitch, keep Dudley the black wonder pug from screaming...literally screaming at me if I don't feed him fast enough or take him outside fast enough or let him crawl onto my lap, he makes me feel like I am in an abusive relationship as I scramble around quickly doing his bidding, while I am begging him to stop shrieking. Gracie would stop licking the floor obsessively looking for any crumb, or every dust particle resembling food (trust me, she doesn't need any food at all…she looks like an egg roll with legs) that she can suck down. Hudson would quit running away from me and going into the neighbor's yard to pee on their Virgin Mary statue (Please forgive me for I have sinned, my pugs are monsters that I created).
Yes, I am aware that it is my fault...totally my fault. As I just mentioned they are the monsters I created. They have been kicked out of obedience school a few times for various reasons, reasons that are horrifying but I will share. At 10 lbs, Gracie was humping someone's Rottweiler and refused to stop...if I sat away from them she would howl. I didn't know pugs could howl. :( Dudley marked one instructor and Hudson is just...well he is my very special pug full of very special quirks. It is just painful to keep listing all the reasons we were asked not to come back from different places. Sigh.
The thing is this; they are so cute and loving. I am simply crazy about them and love them to pieces…no matter how bad they are, they look at me with their sweet little squished faces and I melt. I give up. I let Dudley crawl into my lap so he can stop screaming, I give Gracie another treat and I forgive Hudson’s trips into blasphemy and make mental notes to watch for when the neighbors leave next so I can go hose off their Virgin Mary.
Am I without hope? Maybe. Sigh.
I need you Cesar…
love, Romy "Hopeless in Walla Walla"
Oh Cesar Millan, if life was only different...you would be here with me... helping me teach my pugs to listen, breaking MY bad habits, showing me how to keep them from peeing on my shoes, our couch and my husband's climbing gear. And that was just in one week. You would help me be more strict...keep them from making me their bitch, keep Dudley the black wonder pug from screaming...literally screaming at me if I don't feed him fast enough or take him outside fast enough or let him crawl onto my lap, he makes me feel like I am in an abusive relationship as I scramble around quickly doing his bidding, while I am begging him to stop shrieking. Gracie would stop licking the floor obsessively looking for any crumb, or every dust particle resembling food (trust me, she doesn't need any food at all…she looks like an egg roll with legs) that she can suck down. Hudson would quit running away from me and going into the neighbor's yard to pee on their Virgin Mary statue (Please forgive me for I have sinned, my pugs are monsters that I created).
Yes, I am aware that it is my fault...totally my fault. As I just mentioned they are the monsters I created. They have been kicked out of obedience school a few times for various reasons, reasons that are horrifying but I will share. At 10 lbs, Gracie was humping someone's Rottweiler and refused to stop...if I sat away from them she would howl. I didn't know pugs could howl. :( Dudley marked one instructor and Hudson is just...well he is my very special pug full of very special quirks. It is just painful to keep listing all the reasons we were asked not to come back from different places. Sigh.
The thing is this; they are so cute and loving. I am simply crazy about them and love them to pieces…no matter how bad they are, they look at me with their sweet little squished faces and I melt. I give up. I let Dudley crawl into my lap so he can stop screaming, I give Gracie another treat and I forgive Hudson’s trips into blasphemy and make mental notes to watch for when the neighbors leave next so I can go hose off their Virgin Mary.
Am I without hope? Maybe. Sigh.
I need you Cesar…
love, Romy "Hopeless in Walla Walla"
Monday, November 7, 2011
Gulf stream through the open door
I need to learn how to be still. I don’t only mean just stand physically in one spot. No, I mean not let my thoughts run all over the place. Stay in the current moment; enjoy it and take as much from it as I possibly can.
I am not saying that I can’t appreciate the beauty in my life, I can. Or that I am not satisfied because I am pretty easy to please in many aspects. I just am always wanting the next beautiful moment, the next time something or someone takes my breath away. I am the type of person that on our way home from an amazing vacation; I am already talking about where we will go next. It is almost like once the moments pass, I take them and lock them into a heart shaped box and file them away. I will go back, dig out the box and open it again once in a while but typically once a moment turns into a memory I try to move forward. Maybe, I do it much too quickly. It is almost like I have to show my independence to…who knows to who…by saying “okay, done. It is time to move on because I will not get lost in a moment or memory forever!”.
It is exhausting. I am trying to learn that it is okay to stay in that moment, to carry it around with me in my back pocket, to pull it out during those moments that may need a memory and not reality to be able to catch my breath and remind myself that regardless of how tough or crazy things get…there is so much more amazing to be had. It doesn’t mean that I am vulnerable for loving those memories, or for being able to express to someone that I loved our time together. It doesn’t mean that at all.
Do you really get to know who you are if you are constantly on the move, if your head is constantly just full of random thoughts? Aren’t we what we think? And if we are constantly thinking, moving and trying to fill the space in our head...how are we growing and listening to what we need? I guess that is where being still comes in. Trying to still your head from so many things…daily life things, things we want, things we need to do, have to say, should have said, want to do…my God the list goes on and on. I know for me, I have to stop and pay closer attention to the moments I am in if I want to learn what I need.
There is a saying that I love, it says something like “you cannot see your reflection in the running water, only in still water”. I really believe we have to be still to see our own beautiful reflection. After all, it is our right, our entitlement to find beautiful things, memories and moments in our world and hang on to them. In any which way we desire.
Part of the reason I write in this blog is because I need to ask myself questions to things that maybe I know the answers to, but if I write them…if they leave me through my fingertips and they are out there, I have to pay them more mind. Writing clears my head, it allows me to me to say the things I normally would not. Not out of fear, but the things that I am learning to be more open about.
I have written these words before in another blog that I had for a few years but they still ring true for me. I wrote every single hurt, happiness, pain and smile I had during those years. A lot of the time I didn't press publish but I wrote it there. It is a difficult thing to open yourself up and allow others to see you. It is even harder to open yourself up and dump it on the lap of a loved one and friend. I closed that blog because well, it was time. I may copy/paste some of my favorite blogs from over there, and put them here.
Maybe.
Maybe this one will be the one that helps me figure out that whole still thing.
Who knows, maybe just maybe.
love,
Romy
I am not saying that I can’t appreciate the beauty in my life, I can. Or that I am not satisfied because I am pretty easy to please in many aspects. I just am always wanting the next beautiful moment, the next time something or someone takes my breath away. I am the type of person that on our way home from an amazing vacation; I am already talking about where we will go next. It is almost like once the moments pass, I take them and lock them into a heart shaped box and file them away. I will go back, dig out the box and open it again once in a while but typically once a moment turns into a memory I try to move forward. Maybe, I do it much too quickly. It is almost like I have to show my independence to…who knows to who…by saying “okay, done. It is time to move on because I will not get lost in a moment or memory forever!”.
It is exhausting. I am trying to learn that it is okay to stay in that moment, to carry it around with me in my back pocket, to pull it out during those moments that may need a memory and not reality to be able to catch my breath and remind myself that regardless of how tough or crazy things get…there is so much more amazing to be had. It doesn’t mean that I am vulnerable for loving those memories, or for being able to express to someone that I loved our time together. It doesn’t mean that at all.
Do you really get to know who you are if you are constantly on the move, if your head is constantly just full of random thoughts? Aren’t we what we think? And if we are constantly thinking, moving and trying to fill the space in our head...how are we growing and listening to what we need? I guess that is where being still comes in. Trying to still your head from so many things…daily life things, things we want, things we need to do, have to say, should have said, want to do…my God the list goes on and on. I know for me, I have to stop and pay closer attention to the moments I am in if I want to learn what I need.
There is a saying that I love, it says something like “you cannot see your reflection in the running water, only in still water”. I really believe we have to be still to see our own beautiful reflection. After all, it is our right, our entitlement to find beautiful things, memories and moments in our world and hang on to them. In any which way we desire.
Part of the reason I write in this blog is because I need to ask myself questions to things that maybe I know the answers to, but if I write them…if they leave me through my fingertips and they are out there, I have to pay them more mind. Writing clears my head, it allows me to me to say the things I normally would not. Not out of fear, but the things that I am learning to be more open about.
I have written these words before in another blog that I had for a few years but they still ring true for me. I wrote every single hurt, happiness, pain and smile I had during those years. A lot of the time I didn't press publish but I wrote it there. It is a difficult thing to open yourself up and allow others to see you. It is even harder to open yourself up and dump it on the lap of a loved one and friend. I closed that blog because well, it was time. I may copy/paste some of my favorite blogs from over there, and put them here.
Maybe.
Maybe this one will be the one that helps me figure out that whole still thing.
Who knows, maybe just maybe.
love,
Romy
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