…a little “about me”

Once upon a time, there lived … well…me … and I’m still here.

Throughout much of my life, I didn’t recognize anything particularly special about me. Yet, I knew I wasn’t like everyone else. I just didn’t seem to fit in.

Honestly, I still don’t quite fit in, and I am more than okay with that because I am beginning to understand why.

There have been times when I have been the fearless leader and other times when I have been completely invisible. In each of those arenas, either way out in front or ducking in the shadows, I have engaged the world through stories – little adventures that play out like movies.

Language and music are my creative art, although I have not created music in a traditional sense, unless singing in the car and on the treadmill count as musically inclined endeavors. My daughters and I do harmonize like we are members of an a Capella trio, and we do ROCK IT!

I use music in the background of my stories, weaving melodies and rhythms through the movement of words and the dance of life, like a composer on a movie set. It makes living in this world more fun to constantly create art inside my head and then share that art with everyone around me.

I have many fun and funny stories, colorful adventures, and great paintings of words. These are the highlights that I treasure. However, there have been chunks of time when I have awoken to find myself in a dark gray prison, where the stories are colorless, ashen, dark, and damp. I would like to say those times have been “a waste,” and some people have classified them as “a shame,” but I know they haven’t been. I simply ended up in a place that held me captive so that I could learn something else about the great expanse of life. These were the times of great growth. I became a superhero, forged in the depths of those hellish prisons.

As I tell my stories in their gloriousness, I am addressing the lessons I’ve learned and still learning through each significant connection, not to relive the past, but perhaps to learn a bit more about myself through these associations, to understand the phrases and labels that are bantered about.

What I’ve learned in my years on Planet Earth, at least this time around, could fill a few books, and what I am still learning could fill even more. I tell many, many stories about my experiences with great enthusiasm.

My tale includes some highlights in the school of hard knocks – marriage – which felt like eternal damnation… To borrow from Dane Cook, it was a “relationshit,” no doubt about that. Thanks, Dane. I love that word!

From there, my splintered soul had a glimpse of the divine – just a glimpse. It was enough for me to know it existed and that I must get back to it once I became whole again. I took my first steps down that splendiferous path, where I discovered my super powers and the glorious truth about me.

I could just say “the end” at that point. But as anybody on a spiritual path to his/her own divinity can tell you, it’s a journey. There is no “the end.”

There is still so much I do not understand about life and the connections with others, but that’s why I am on my journey…learning the language of the heart and the dance of the soul…using my view of the world and the way I dance with other people, touching, loving, laughing, and feeling… to learn what it means to be here and be happy that I am, even through the dark times. The only language I can speak is my own..my truth.

I have been asked to fill a few books with my creativity, my language…tell a few stories…and see what happens.

I have accepted that challenge!! Let’s see what I have to say, shall we.

While my truth may not be the prettiest, it is deliciously exquisite.

Play song: All This And Heaven Too by Florence and the Machine

http://open.spotify.com/track/74GJoiemPE1VOyN9nVFs6k

And the heart is hard to translate

It has a language of its own

It talks in tongues and quiet sighs,

And prayers and proclamations

In the grand days of great men and the smallest of gestures

And short shallow gasps

But with all my education I can’t seem to command it

And the words are all escaping, and coming back all damaged

And I would put them back in poetry if I only knew how

I can’t seem to understand it

And I would give all this and heaven too

I would give it all if only for a moment

That I could just understand the meaning of the word you see

‘Cause I’ve been scrawling it forever but it never makes sense to me at all

And it talks to me in tiptoes

And it sings to me inside

It cries out in the darkest night and breaks in the morning light

But with all my education I can’t seem to command it

And the words are all escaping, and coming back all damaged

And I would put them back in poetry if I only knew how

I can’t seem to understand it

And I would give all this and heaven too

I would give it all if only for a moment

That I could just understand the meaning of the word you see

‘Cause I’ve been scrawling it forever but it never makes sense to me at all

And I would give all this and heaven too

I would give it all if only for a moment

That I could just understand the meaning of the word you see

‘Cause I’ve been scrawling it forever but it never makes sense to me at all

No, words are a language

It doesn’t deserve such treatment

And all of my stumbling phrases never amounted to anything worth this feeling

All this heaven never could describe such a feeling as I’m hearing

Words were never so useful

So I was screaming out a language that I never knew existed before.

I would love to hear from YOU ~

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