Not Always an Easy Question

Aliki asked me today: "How ARE you?"


This got me thinking about the nature of the question.
In most cases, it can be a pretty pedestrian question.
You could walk into an A&P and ask someone, "How are you?"
You would most likely get an, "I'm fine and you?" in return.
Most of the time, the question is asked without any real answer.
Most of the time, you ask the question and you don't want the answer.


I also know that I'm usually a caretaker-type personality.
I'm usually the one that people are coming to for help, advice, and guidance (in real life).
So rarely am I asked the question.

And that is OK.
Most of the time, I am OK.
There usually isn't much to tell.
I'm a pretty open book.


So, when I opened my gmail and saw the comment (in the form of an email) where Aliki asked the question, it made me smile. It made me stop for a moment and ask myself:
How ARE you?


Rather a simple question.
It shouldn't be hard to answer.
But it is.
Today it is. Well, sort of.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


I made a lot of progress this past year letting go of the little girl who was screaming on the inside.
But she's back.
She's back after my mom told me that she is leaving my stepdad.
I'm a grown woman, I know.
But the way in which my mom does this knee-jerk reaction thing and well,
running
just brings back some memories which I thought were long dealt with.
On a less selfish, egotistical note
I'm thinking of the implications this will have on Connor and Gracie.



Rav & I have been dealing with a family issue which I really am not at liberty to discuss here.
While it has certainly taken its toll, it has only helped us to talk through some things and take stock.
The ripple effects are heartbreaking.


I'm going through yet another spiritual awakening of sorts and have
come to some realizations that are wonderful, scary, and comforting
all at once. I'd love to blog about this, but I don't know if it will ever come about.


The biggest thing is that, despite turmoil and stress, I'm staying even. I'm not hiding.
I'm good.

Rav and I are strong in our relationship. We have our days, like we all do. But I am so, so thankful for our solid relationship.
I realize how connected we are and how we are lucky to still have passion.


Ours isn't a perfect life.
Far from it.
But we've made it together.
We work hard at it.

And it's perfect for us.



So, to answer the question:
At the end of the day.
When my head hits the pillow
I am thankful.

And I am good.

Elementary, My Dear Watson

Here's a question or two for you:

Why is someone who considers every human being truly equal considered "fringe" or "radical"?

Why is something we are taught in preschool and/or kindergarten - that everyone is the same and that we should treat everyone nicely and with kindness - thrown out the window at a certain point?

Dreams and Wishes From The Past

I had my 2nd reiki treatment last night.
The session was interesting & I can't wait to share it.

But first I had to get a few other thoughts out.
The first thing is that I wanted to share that I wrote a little card to *E's* mom.
And it was well received.
I'll leave it at that for now.

Last night before and after my treatment I met up with my stepmom for some girly talk.
And after we were finished - quite honestly we probably could have chatted all night long - I stopped in to see my dad and brothers. It wasn't a long visit. But it was enough. In a good way.

I was sharing with my dad the details of my reiki treatment and something came to him and he walked away.
He came back with a box.
And inside the box was a violin.
An old violin.
In pieces.

He began telling me how this violin was my grandfather's (his father). And he loved this violin. He thought it was "something".
My dad took it to a musician in a local city to find out about it and to inquire about getting it put back together.
Sadly (or not so sadly), the violin is "nothing" in terms of monetary value and it would cost more to put it back to rights than to buy a nice, quality new one.

As my dad was telling me about it, I began salivating.
And felt bad despite myself.
I felt like a wolf, hungry for the kill.
I felt horrible for being so overtaken with thoughts like Give it to me!! Drop it, sucker. Hand me the box and no one gets hurt!!!
I somehow managed to get ahold of myself.

See, for as long as I remember I've wanted to learn how to play the Violin. And to see this in front me of me was almost too much to handle....the thought of playing Violin - his violin - clouded any ounce of good judgement I had.
I never have understand why I wanted to play. Because my passion has always been the Saxophone (and percussion, although I've never played percussion instruments).
Something has always drawn me to the Violin.

I had no idea until last night that my grandfather used to play.

My dad finished his story about the poor, dime-store violin.
And then he said
I'm going to have a little ceremony and I'm going to burn it.

I gasped.
My eyes in wide horror.
WHY????????

He said I'm going to burn it and take it down to Dad. Maybe if we all get together on the weekend of Thanksgiving we'll burn it then since we all will be together.

My grandfather apparently had much love for this 1920s Montgomery Ward Violin - that he bought 2nd hand and thought was "something".
And my dad is doing the right thing by his Dad.
It should be with him where he rests.

I left their house a little less selfish.
Happy that it will be returned to its rightful owner
and that since I've never met my grandfather and always longed for some physical connection, content in the fact that maybe I got this desire to play from him.

Self-Involvement Is Hitting An All-Time High

For one reason or another, I haven't written about issues or topics that have been weighing on my mind.
Despite the fact that there are usually many.

I am so wrapped up in the fog that is in my mind and permeating every cell that I cannot even begin to tackle other subjects.
Something has happened to me in the past week and a half.

I'll be damned if I could tell you what it is/was.
All I know is that there is a general discontent,
as well as,
a general goo that has slung itself to my very being.

I feel like I have been feeling like this for way too long.
And I just can't take it anymore.

Reading a blog is like scaling Mt. Everest.
Having energy to just get through the day is unheard of.
Patience?
Gone.

I cannot step outside of this funk long enough to enjoy the good things
or wrap my heart around the not-so-good things.

I'm searching myself and looking back trying to find out what exactly
happened.

And nothing has come to me as of yet.

I know that I have been rather cut-off socially due to the demands of part-time preschool teaching and my full-time student status.
I have not given of myself out here
or in real-life.
Other then in the occupations and roles that I have to employ.

My soul has not been fed.
And I feel it.

Could it be possible that my little old soul has a cold?

What do you think?
Do you believe that a soul/a person's essence can suffer from a "cold"?

I have to say that, right now, I am a believer.

Sunday (Morning) Song of the Moment

** Edited**
I removed the original youtube video of this song that I had posted after I discovered that it did not contain the entire song....I added a better youtube version.

So sorry this one is a wee late. Today was spent in the delights of crisp blue skies, a quick nip on the skin from just the slightest bite of cold in the morning air.
The air smelled of possibility.

We took the kids to our favorite diner. The kids ate well.
Rav dove into some Pumpkin pancakes that were to die for.

If you were to ask me, at the age of 21, if I saw myself with two kids and a husband at 28, I probably would have wrinkled my nose,shrugged my shoulders and said
You just never know.

I try to, on a daily basis understand this world we live in.
I struggle with trying to make sense of, not necessarily for myself anymore, but for these two precious souls who are in my care.

I've been looking back lately, smiling and nodding at accomplishments and personal growth.
I sometimes cringe at the car wrecks I've found myself involved in.
I remember on more than one occasion wondering if I'd ever make it through.
And I always have.

Sure I might have a few battle scars - visible and not.
And for all that I have learned, there is still so much more to learn.

I'm itching for the journey ahead, whatever that may be.
Knowing me and the way things go
it'll be one amazing, scary, wild, and completely enjoyable ride.

I hope you enjoy the song. It's nothing newly discovered or obscure.
On The Road to Find Out ~ Cat Stevens
It just fits right into a quiet little spot in my heart and mind right now.
And I just thought I'd share.

I hope you all are enjoying this early fall, day.

The Story Behind Killer

Remember a bit back, I was reminiscing about the summer camp where Rav & I met?
And I discussed that I was given the name of Dodgeball Ninja?
Which was a name used only on the Dodgeball court or in reference to the game itself.


Some of you who commented yesterday were curious about where Killer came from.
And again, that started at camp.....
Let's see....where to begin.

Let's start with my stats. Remember, I'm only 5'1". Really, 5' 1 1/2"....but that 1/2" really just makes me sound juvenile. Although, when you grow up always being the shortest one, you'll do anything for that 1/2". Anyway.....

I can't stand to be underestimated. Yes, I suppose I must have a Napoleon complex to some degree.
Also, at that time, I was probably 110 lbs., soaking wet. I was a wee thing.
Many people think they have to handle me with care simply because I am(was) little.


Working at the YMCA, we had every kind of kid you could imagine. From every kind of home.
Now, I am of the mindset that, when working with kids (of any kind) you have to start off sort of "tough" (i.e. be firm up front, set immediate boundaries, give respect and expect respect, that sort of thing....), and then ease up once roles have been clearly defined.
Not to mention when working with the number of kids that we did at that summer camp, it is essential that there be firm expectations - for safety reasons.
Look, bottom-line, I took my job seriously.


The second week of camp, I was assigned to work with the oldest group (who were about 12-14). And leading that group? Rav.
Rav who was a "senior" counselor.
Rav who was about the cockiest, arrogant person I had ever met at that point.
Rav who helped to develop G.A.T. (the Get-Away-Theory).
Which means that you try to ditch your group as much as possible.
And he surely did.

Which totally pissed me off.

He left me, a newbie, to try to handle this group of kids who were hell-bent on doing everything they could to make my life a living hell.
I was busting my butt in the summer heat, while he was laying on picnic tables in the shade with his finger up his nose.
When he finally returned to group, I let him have what-for. I was nice. I was firm.
But he got my point.


So, between my LOUD, commanding voice (for being so small), my often hard demeanor, my take-no-crap attitude, and my handling of Rav when shirking his duties, I was crowned


Killer.