Not Broken, Just… Unfinished

I went through life thinking about “wrong.”
I was dark thoughts of a dark world with a dark mind.
I lived divided, my holes made me wholly focused
On filling the emptiness.
But I wasn’t broken… Only unfinished.

There are no answers to all of my questions…
I lack experience. I lack perspective.
I don’t know anything – nothing makes sense –
Because I am a canvas, the brush, and the paint.
I am even the artist, and I’m painting my fate.
I’m not broken, just… unfinished.

I have my shadows, and they make my image.
I don’t need fixing – I’m not wrong for being.
I’m a whole person, a whole painting in motion,
A tapestry growing, a river evolving.
I am not broken, and I’m not finished.

Now say this again, but say that it’s you.
No more cutting yourself up,
Or tearing you down.
Say it again, and think of all others.
Those that you care for,
And those that you don’t.
They don’t need to be fixed –
They’re not wrong for being –
None of them broken – only unfinished.

No matter what judgment you place on another,
No matter their actions,
No matter their trouble…
No one is broken. We’re all just unfinished.

And you’re not my brush, not my artist, nor paint.
And I wouldn’t presume to edit your image,
Because you’re unfinished and not quite like me…
I’m sharing this mainly because I think you can’t see…
No one is broken. We’re all just unfinished.



World of Warcraft and Mental Health

About four or five years ago, I went through something that turned my life, and my head, completely upside down.

It started with, of all things, a migraine.

I was used to them. I got them all the time. I had them for days at a time. I pushed through. I got things done. I ignored the pain, and mostly, that worked. Admittedly, as things progressed, the amount of days I spent enduring migraines lengthened, until I quite possibly had less than a week out of every month where I wasn’t in pain… but it happened so slowly that by that time, I had adjusted. I persevered.

Until one day, my body decided enough was enough.

I had a migraine so severe I was screaming in pain. We rushed to the hospital, where they struggled to help. Eventually, the pain faded, and we went home… where I couldn’t forget what had happened.

The anxiety and fear of both the pain, and not knowing what had happened to me, or why, eventually led to another screaming migraine.

And another.

Finally, I was in such a state of constant vigilance, I couldn’t cope with even my normal migraines. I started having dreams of dying.

I had a dream of walking out into traffic… and I woke up completely numb – I felt nothing about it. I understood, my subconscious was speaking about my desperation. I wasn’t suicidal, but when you’re experiencing trauma coupled with pain, your brain does a funny thing. It grabs onto any idea for relief.

When I was a child, I was hit by a car, and I died. While I was dead, I experienced not light, but darkness. Pure, empty darkness. There was no pain, there was no fear, there was no hate, there was NOTHING… and it was the most beautiful, quiet experience of my life. When they brought me back, I cried for days, because I didn’t want to leave that peace for a life that was nothing but horror.

So of course, when I was again experiencing something I couldn’t cope well with, my brain remembered what it was like to be dead… and suggested, through dreams, that solution.

This is actually quite common in trauma patients. This does NOT mean they are suicidal. It means that their subconscious is reaching for a way out. That doesn’t mean they have any intention of acting on it… it just means they’re nearing the end of their endurance.

Realizing what my dream signified, I knew I needed medical assistance to get my pain under control. I had my mother take me to the hospital, where I TRIED to explain to multiple medical professionals about my pain, and the dream, and what I needed.

THEY decided I was suicidal, and stopped listening to me. They sent me to an inpatient psychiatric facility for a week, where I experienced even more psychological trauma. The only person I met during that week who DID understand was a paramedic who was an Iraki war veteran. He had shrapnel in his head. He lived with pain daily. He understood the difference between wanting to die, and your brain trying to find solutions to situations.

The end result of these experiences was an anxiety disorder, severe depression, and PTSD.

I sat on the couch for two years. I barely spoke. I wasn’t really aware. People spoke to me, and I honestly felt everything they said meant nothing. Their questions were all obvious, and clearly rhetorical. I stared at the world, and felt nothing, thought nothing. I was empty, at the bottom of a deep well. The world was very dark, and I didn’t care. The only time I experienced any emotions, I would be having a panic attack.

Eventually, we realized that the hospital’s solution of drowning me in medication I didn’t need had exacerbated my situation. My doctor took me off every medication she could.

I was unmedicated for a little over a year…. and slowly, I started to live again. I wasn’t my old self, by any stretch of the imagination. I don’t think I’ll ever get that person back. She died – that’s how I look at it. We found out that I have a sensitivity to sugar. I’m not diabetic – it’s a different issue. If I have too much sugar, I get migraines. We also found out I needed glasses, which clearly contributed to my issues. Dehydration and forgetting to eat definitely contribute, but the main cause is sugar. I stopped drinking gatorade, which I had been drinking because of chronic electrolyte deficiencies, and got an app for my phone that reminded me to drink, and to eat. My migraines and my anxiety both cause me to become very scattered and forgetful. I needed those apps.

Because I was home, and unwell, I had a lot of spare time. I read a lot, but even someone for whom reading is a passion can become tired of reading when that’s ALL you do… so I started playing games from Google Play. I played mystery games – games with a story line, where you would have to find objects, and use them to complete tasks to get to the next section of the game.

I bought a LOT of games. It was becoming expensive.

My husband suggested I try creating a character on WoW. When we first met six years ago, I had tried to play, but I had this tiny Vista hybrid laptop. It had a flip around touch screen, and the latency on the thing was so bad, I couldn’t see what had killed me… It was so bad, that I got very frustrated and just decided that I wasn’t a gamer. I didn’t blame my tech… I blamed myself. After all… I’d played console games with friends. I knew I was bad at games. Shoot – I died during RPG’s.

However, he convinced me to give it another go. I had a newer computer, and he’d played on it. It wasn’t awful, so he thought I would be able to play. He was right, for the most part.

Because I have a lot of social anxiety, I didn’t run any dungeons. I just quested. Despite that, I leveled a toon to 100 in under four months. For a new player, that’s pretty good. He bought me Legion as a present, for making it that far.

The thing about Warcraft is that it gives me goals. Small, achievable tasks, for which I gain rewards. Slowly, my mental health improved, because my confidence in my own ability to solve problems grew. I started running dungeons with my husband and his best friend. I joined a guild and ran some content with them.

My new laptop couldn’t handle Legion. I had latency issues. I had lag issues. Loading into dungeons and scenarios took too long, and I frequently dc’d and spent a lot of time catching up to groups… and dying.

We started saving for a computer that could handle Legion. I got The Beast as a Valentine’s Day present this year. I LOVE my Beast.

After I got The Beast, and realized that a large part of my problems WERE in fact technological, I started feeling confident enough to pug dungeons. We moved to a higher population server (we’d been on Moonguard, which is an RP server, and not really our style) which was progression based, because I finally felt ready to move forward. To challenge myself.

I found a WONDERFUL guild. I can’t even begin to express how helpful and understanding they’ve been. I was clear from the start about my issues, and the reason we click so well is that they are a group designed to support people with my health issues.

Because of Warcraft, and a strong support system, I’ve begun to enjoy being challenged. I still get frustrated if I die a lot. I feel like I’ve failed my team. It just pushes me to learn more.

I’m working, right now, to gear a new character, because I want to get into the higher level dungeons, the mythic plusses, and into the Nighthold Raid. I want to run the heroic Guldan battle, and get my Ahead of the Curve achievement.

I want to be ready for when Tomb of Sargeras comes out. I want to be in the front lines. I want to be part of the team of guildies who run mythic challenges for the guild weekly.

A friend dragged me into battle ground scenarios last weekend. It was the first time I’ve done real PVP stuff. I didn’t die as often as I expected. It was chaotic, and confusing… but I learned a lot. I think I’d like to do more, because I know things about my toon I didn’t know before.


I have gone from someone who, when I couldn’t log into my bank account, ended up curled in a ball under a coffee table, completely hysterical, to someone who is actively looking to challenge herself. To push. To grow.

World of Warcraft saved me. I am reborn, and I am ready to face the World… and the world.

Thank you, Warcraft, for teaching me that I Can. And thank you, my husband, for insisting I try it. You’re right… it’s cheaper… and a lot more fun.


The Biggest Relationship Mistakes I’ve Made

In learning to love, and learning about love, most of us go through a series of disastrous relationships – sometimes the fallout can be blamed on our chosen partner, but most often, everyone in the relationship is equally complicit. However, it sometimes takes a long time for people to learn how their own mistakes affected their failed relationships, simply because many of us blame the other party as being fully guilty, and never look at it beyond that.

I’ll admit that in the past, I have not exactly dated stellar material, but that doesn’t change that the biggest mistakes I made were never choosing a bad partner, but actually how I reacted IN the relationship itself.

Mistake Number One – Don’t Try To Fix What Isn’t Broken – OR – Love the One You’re With.

If you’re dating someone because of the potential you see in them, you’re not actually dating THEM… you’re dating some illusory dream of who they COULD be, if only they TRIED, if only they would listen to you, if only they believed in this imaginary dream of themselves as much as you do, and would WORK at it.

If you’re dating someone in trying to rescue them from their past mistakes, or their present ones, you might consider that those “mistakes,” those choices and their consequences and the learning experiences that helped them to grow on their path to this point – led them directly to you. In other words, if they had changed one single thing, it’s possible they’d never have met you, or if they had, neither of you would have been interested, and this relationship wouldn’t exist.

If you’re trying to save someone from themselves, that means you don’t fully appreciate who they are now, or all the hard work it took for them to get to you. You don’t love them, you love who you want them to be. Either you appreciate someone because of who they are, and that’s why you’re with them, or you believe the dream, and dreams belong in another world – they seldom happen in this one… dating a dream will never live up to reality – eventually you’ll resent them or even hate them for not becoming that perfect vision you have of them.

Mistake Number Two – Don’t Try To Be Someone You’re Not

We’ve all done it – tried to figure out why someone loves us, tried to figure out what they need, WHO they need (because it surely isn’t us – they must be insane to want US!), tried to understand exactly what their version of a perfect partner is, and become it, instead of being ourselves.

The truth is, if they’re with you, hopefully, they’re with you because they love who you are, not some idealized version of you, and not some perfect dream that you could never become. If someone chooses to be with you and you try to become something you’re not to please them, you end up being resentful of all their supposed demands, you feel suppressed because you can’t be yourself in the relationship, and they end up confused because they don’t know who you are anymore… and many times, since it was actually YOU they got involved with, and you aren’t you anymore, they leave. It’s really just best from the very start to be yourself – that way, you’re happy, and they know what they’re getting up front, so they’re more likely to be happy, too.

Both these classic mistakes are based on acceptance issues… the first one is the inability to accept another person for who and what they are, and where they’re at in their life – which is obviously not about love. If you want to change someone you’re with, you don’t really love THEM, just your version of them, which is never fair to anyone because most likely, that version only exists in your mind, and quite probably, if they wanted to change into that person, they’d have done it before they met you, and certainly they’d have done it for themselves, without your help. People never change for other people – they only change when they’re ready to do so, and because they want to. In other words… mostly they don’t… so it’s best to love the one you’re with.

The second issue is self-acceptance. The idea that no one could accept you for all you are, warts and pluses – or the idea that you don’t HAVE any pluses – is a personal insecurity, and needs to be rooted out before any relationship will succeed. If you don’t believe anyone could appreciate you, you’ll find a way to make them prove you right, eventually, and that’s just not a healthy outlook on life. Obviously if they’re with you, they DO see something in you that they like – and whether the relationship lasts or not, that should be encouraging to you. If you haven’t figured out what others see in you, you probably should stop dating for awhile and go find yourself – because only when you truly love you, believe yourself worthy, will you be able to accept the love of someone else as being real and possible. Until then, you’ll be so damned afraid of rejection and disapproval, you’ll try to be anyone but yourself – and you’ll never trust anyone you’re with as long as you do that, because you’ll know, deep down, that they’re not really with YOU… and in the end, it won’t matter to you that that’s your fault… them leaving will just confirm your beliefs about your own unworthiness… it’s a vicious cycle.


Thankfully, I finally grew out of either form of foolishness… When I met my husband, I loved him for who he was, and never even considered who he COULD be… and I didn’t try to be anything I’m not. We have been together for five years, and married for over two, and while there are things he does that bother me, and there are things I do that bother him, while we talk it out with each other, we generally don’t change much – because we’re comfortable with each other and ourselves, just the way we are. I’ve never been happier in a relationship, or felt safer and more appreciated – and he’s never felt more accepted… and that’s the way we like it.

Here’s to your relationship health. 😀


So… out of curiosity… what are some of your own relationship mistakes?

Slashed Tire Hart

You came to me in need…
Power running mad.
But I’m not comfort in a bottle…
I’m a bitter pill to swallow…
My mother managed to turn her switches off,
It’s true…
But there comes a point in Power’s life
When you’re down there in the Abyss
When the Power’s bigger than you…
When it’s the Beast that’s riding you…
When you’ve no choice anymore in the matter…
And you either grab it by the horns
And stare down its gullet
And Decide
Whether you’re going to ride that Beast to Hell and back
Or die trying…
Or you’re going to just let it swallow you whole
Right there and then…
And I told you that that’s where you were…
And you didn’t want to hear that…
Especially not at that moment…
When HE was picking you apart at the seams…

But I didn’t know that, did I?
Because I was a living dead girl myself.
I was staring down my own dark beast.
I had my own battle to fight.
I had my own monster to ride.
And while I was in the hospital dying by inches…
You were in a chatroom being eaten by words.
And I didn’t know…
And my words didn’t help.
I’m just another bitter pill to swallow…

So when I came back up from my grave…
I came back up your throat.

So of course you weren’t mine anymore.
Of course you weren’t.

But I didn’t know that either.
Doe in the headlights.
Slashed tire hart.
Such beautiful art.
Such a beautiful broken heart.

It’s ok. You don’t have to be mine anymore.

I know when to set a bird free.
Blessed be.

Unwitting Verbal Attacks – I’m Sorry

I get… enthusiastic when I’m discussing my point of view sometimes. People can misinterpret that as an attack.

I’m sorry.

I don’t know how to be less enthusiastic about things.

It’s a personality quirk. I’m opinionated. I love debates.

People think that sometimes debates with me are… heated exchanges.

I don’t see them that way.

I’m sorry.

I see those debates as fun. It’s exciting, thrilling… the bounce of ideas back and forth is hotter than the play of skin on skin… it’s better than sports, it’s better than sex.

No, I’m really not kidding. Not meaning to be raunchy, but it’s true…

It’s my hobby.

I’m sorry.

I don’t mean to be domineering.

I don’t mean to be argumentative.

I don’t mean to come off as combative.

I’m autistic.

I don’t think like you think.

My brain doesn’t work like yours works.

I don’t feel the way you feel things through.

I may be an empath, but when I’m hot on the tail of an idea, a fact, a trail on the informational highway that could be bumblebeed together into this amazing hybridized web inside my mind… I’m so caught up in the beauty, the passion… I forget to be human. I forget to be feeling… I forget to connect to you…

I’m pure mind.

I don’t mean to intimidate you.

I’m sorry.

So if I do… please… just stop me. Right there… just stop me and say so.

Just poke me and say… Hey… you, girl with your head in the nebula… remember me down here on earth?

Whoa Nellie! Put your autism back in its pocket, woman, you’re flashing! Here’s your social cue… moderate yourself a bit, for me please… slow down some… you’re dragging me overboard and I don’t like it.

I’m cool with that, you know. I don’t mind.

Actually, I kinda like it when people are blunt with me.

It lets me keep my friends.

We can be friends, right?

I’m sorry that I’ve scared some of you sometimes.
I love you.
Can I stay? :--

For You I Yearn

Smooth and dusty,
silky, musky,
soft winged flight of fancy,
feet are sliding through air like linen,
scent of flowers
in fairy bowers,
you know we’re all about the sinnin’
where the air
is glistening, shining,
and skin
sparkles wet with dew drops, dining
on nectar of the gods own kin…
come dance with me the wicked dance…
you know you want that
sliding silken slick lipped
kiss of death and heat
and hiss and moan against the sheets…
twist and turn
and wheel and burn…
It’s always for you I yearn…

Love Yourself

My Thought For The Day:


Do not think like me. Do not act like me. Do not believe what I believe. Do not dream my dreams. Do not see through my eyes, speak my words, or hear what I hear. Do not taste my world, do not behold its frequency.

Go out and find your own.

Live your own life. Think your own thoughts, act your own way. Believe your own faiths and no one elses. Dream your own dreams, and no one elses. See through your own eyes, speak your own words, and hear your own sounds. Taste your own world, and behold the frequency that is unique to your singularity.

I am only a mote in your eye – you are the storyteller, the protagonist, the antagonist, the victim, the hero, the sidekick, the saga. This is your life – do not let me tell it. Tell it for yourself.

Do not love me… go love yourself.

Caryatid Fallen and Rising


This poor little Caryatid has fallen under the load. She’s a good girl—look at her face. Serious, unhappy at her failure, not blaming anyone, not even the gods…and still trying to shoulder her load, after she’s crumpled under it.

But she’s more than just good art denouncing bad art; she’s a symbol for every woman who ever shouldered a load too heavy. But not alone women—this symbol means every man and woman who ever sweated out life in uncomplaining fortitude until they crumpled under their loads. It’s courage…and victory.

Victory in defeat, there is none higher. She didn’t give up…she’s still trying to lift that stone after it has crushed her…she’s all the unsung heroes who couldn’t make it but never quit.
~ Robert A. Heinlein,
Stranger in a Strange Land

Saturday, 2/8

A friend, a local shaman, comes to visit, to talk to me about how to understand stone. We talk about the underworld. From now on, I will go into the underworld to work with my stones, and I will go with Sage, Thyme, and Rosemary to translate. I will meditate on Fire every day, to calm my mind. I can never stop being busy… but I CAN slow down a little, he says. We laugh.

Sunday, 2/9

I become lava. My eyes become diamonds. I understand that fire SEES… that Fires ESSENCE is PERSPECTIVE.

There’s a sudden gathering of energy, throughout my body, like electricity. I know the fire, the magma, is purging me. Afterwards, I feel clearer.

Monday, 2/10

I sit in my Temple, surrounded by the crystal dolmens, the salamanders who call me Nycto snuggling in my hair instead of in the campfire. There are undines twining around my legs and sylphs sliding sinuous around my arms. But I am incomplete. Where are the gnomes? One comes, and curls up in my lap, as if I am a womb for it.

The fire cracks open, tunnel wide… but I can’t take them with me. I shift them all into my apron – they become a perfect sphere, fit together like a 3D puzzle, and I grab a slab of stone, and board down the tunnel… and into the underworld…

They aren’t a sphere anymore. The sylphs are blue swords, tall and crystalline, fragile yet strong. The salamanders are golden shields. The gnome is a teddy bear, and the undines are a soft, silken black blanket.

I’m not sure why I’m here, so with no instructions… and the red sky and earth empty in all directions… I simply start walking.

A car comes out of nowhere and hits me, and as I fly up into the air, a Mack truck flips over the car, trailer vertical in the air as I’m flung by gravity against it…

And then I’m back in the underworld, under a blue dome of protection not of my making.

Voices all around me from people and things I can’t see shouting at me, “Caryatid, Caryatid, Caryatid!” I feel… loss. An overWHELMING sense of grief and RAGE. And NEED. And GUILT. I’m trying to stand and I can’t, and I don’t understand why NOT. But I don’t stop trying. I don’t know HOW.

I’m surrounded by stone. I AM stone. I’m burdened by it. The building has fallen. My face is cracking, body broken. I try to stand. I can’t. I try again. I don’t stop trying. I cannot stop trying. I will never stop trying. I will NOT GIVE IN. I WILL NOT.

I see… a long life. Many lives. I see myself plucking the darkness out of others, taking starlight out of myself and replacing their darkness with it. I see the joy I feel when they go on, when they MOVE on. I feel that love, that dedication. I feel that, I need that. I love that moment of success. It’s so beautiful, watching them get out of that hole.

I see me take that darkness and replace the light I took from myself with their darkness. I see that part become stone.

I see the Choice.

I see it made, again and again.

I come back to the dome. I come back to the shouting. “Caryatid!! CARYATID! CHOOSE!”

I see the stone.

I see also the Abyss. infinite possibilities. A singularity. No more stone.

But I cannot choose. I cannot choose.

I wake up.

A friend that night drew a card for me. The Hierophant in Shadow. Buck the System – in other words… screw the rules. Another friend reminded me of the Japanese habit of mending broken pots with gold. Kintsugi – look it up.

Wednesday, 2/12

I sit down with my salamanders. I tell them… This time, I think I’m going to go alone. They smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll be here.”

I open the firepit. I enter the tunnel… and in the other world, I stand up. I STAND UP, and all my cracks are filled with gold, and I heave that freaking stone into the abyss. I look out at the otherworld and I say, “EDGE.” And I Choose.

I step up to the edge of the Abyss, and I don’t go over, but I don’t stay in the other world either… I find that place Between. And right there… I catch, out of the corner of my eye, Grey Robes.

I found my Goddess again.

They asked me why, afterwards… Why, when you hate the pain so much? I laughed. “Because you cannot hate something you don’t love. I can’t hate them nearly as much as I love them. And I never would choose to hurt myself this much if I didn’t love them as much as I do. I hate their pain. I hate their tragedy. I hate them for their indulgences. But I love myself too much to give up trying. I love the light and the gold too much to stop. I love to love more than I love to hate, or even hate to hate.”

I went back to my Temple. My salamander friends were there to greet me. So was every other spirit and entity in my life. I don’t think my Temple has ever been quite so crowded. We threw a freaking hell of a party!

There have always been two pieces of artwork that have summed up my life. The second piece is Edvard Munch’s The Scream. I came into this world that way, and I’ll probably feel that way even after I leave. But that won’t stop me from trying to lift every stone between me and my last breath… or the one after that.

Beauty Weeps – Who is Perfect?

I love MY damage, too. ❤


This video was originally discovered on Huffington Post with the following article By Ellie Krupnick & Rebecca Adams (Article entitled: ‘Disabled’ Mannequins Remind Us That Beautiful Doesn’t Mean ‘Perfect’)

It’s no secret that the smooth, plastic bodies staring out of store windows aren’t true physical replicas of the people who stare back at them. But there’s no reason they can’t be.

Pro Infirmis, an organization for the disabled, created a series of mannequins based on real people with physical disabilities, working with individuals like Jasmine Rechsteiner, a Miss Handicap winner who has spine malformations, and Erwin Aljukić, an actor with brittle bone disease. The project’s title? “Because Who Is Perfect? Get Closer.”

The beautiful process was documented in a video (watch it above), capturing the joy of the models seeing their own unique figures recreated for the first time. But the best part of it all is that the mannequins were actually placed in store windows today, filling the shopfronts on Zurich’s main downtown street, Bahnhofstrasse, in honor of International Day of Persons with Disabilities today.

“Seeing it there for real is quite a shock,” said one of the video participants. And that’s exactly the point. Raising awareness of those with disabilities, specifically in the realm of fashion, is a conversation that’s already begun with groups such as Models of Diversity, which aims to bring models of all shapes, sizes and colors to the fashion runways and media.

Outspoken individuals like Kelly Knox, the winner of BBC’s “Britain’s Missing Top Model,” and Angela Rockwood, who returned to her modeling career with a Nordstrom campaign after becoming a C4-5 quadriplegic, have also made their voices known.

Some stores have made concerted efforts to include body diversity, including those with disabilities, in their ads. Nordstrom has been doing so since 1991, while British department store Debenhams made headlines earlier this year with a Spring 2013 look book that featured a woman who was an amputee.

It’s still an uphill battle to make the mannequins in our store windows reflect the shoppers passing by. But “Because Who Is Perfect? Get Closer” and the Swiss stores who participated prove that it can definitely be done.

Beauty Weeps – The Angry Eye

The teacher of this class separated the entire class into three groups by eye color. Those who had brown eyes were on one side of the room. Those with blue were in the center of the room. Those with hazel or green eyes were put on the opposite side of the room. She then singled out the blue-eyed students, and treated them the way racists – even those people who do not know that they are behaving in a racist manner – treat people who are different to them.

The video is a harsh truth. This is not a beautiful thing, it is a thing that should make you grieve.

However… the grief of the teacher, and her decision to fight the issue, her refusal to back down, her strength in confronting these students again and again, calmly and clearly even when they cannot get past their own issues, is beautiful, and deserves to be honored.

Normally, my Beauty Weeps editions are to bring you, and myself, a little bit of hope and faith in humanity… I have seen so much of this world that I could label a travesty – so much injustice, cruelty, selfishness – and the more I saw, the less I believed that we could possibly be anything worthwhile as a species. I lost faith in mankind, a long time ago. I see people posting slogans on Facebook, and not backing them up in their everyday lives. I see people giving lip-service to their inner light, while wallowing in greed and the filth of habitual, deliberate ignorance, and the horror of knowing I was part of that species, and part of that problem, was overwhelming. My Beauty Weeps posts are to remind me that we’re not all bad… that we can change – that we can be every bit as glorious as we can be foul… that we are not lacking in potential, merely motivation.

Beauty Weeps is meant to uplift you, and motivate you. It is meant to uplift my faith in the world… and motivate me to be less cynical, less hopeless, and more active in making changes. I may not be able to change you, or the world at large… but I can change my own thoughts, and my own feelings, and my own actions. I can change me.

As the teacher says at the end of her class… you have a choice. You can put aside the lesson when the clip is over… you can even walk out in the middle of the clip. You don’t have to listen. You don’t have to believe. You don’t have to change anything. You can refuse to see that you have issues, that WE have issues… you can plant your head in the sand and plug up your ears and blind your own eyes, and live the life you have been programmed to live.

Or… you can see what I see… and you can grieve… and you can have two other choices. You can be crushed by that grief… or you can rise up against it and change.

I’m not good at changing… but with every video… I resolve once again to try.

This is worthy humanity.

Are you?

Beauty Weeps – Another Random Act of Kindness

Every day, my husband and I squirrel a little bit more away, from our store, and from other places. The day we can do more than just exist is the day we begin to help others do the same. I post this to remind myself of who I want to be when that day comes…

Money is not the goal – what I do with it, and who I become with it, is the goal.