The Bell, The Door, The Manager Who Wasn’t Ready

When I dropped Ishka off at the groomer’s today, I found myself asking a very simple question: Why do some people wake up and choose unpleasantries? Like… is it a hobby? A lifestyle? A calling?

Our appointment was at 8 a.m. 

I arrived at 8:04, which, in dog‑parent time, is basically early. I’m juggling my purse, my keys, and a very excited Ishka who is doing full‑body wiggles in my arms. I sprint up to the automatic doors… and they don’t open. Not even a pity shudder. Just a cold, silent “no.”

This is confusing because they also book 7 a.m. appointments, which implies that human beings should be inside. I stand there for a solid five minutes, watching the cleaning crew zip past me like I’m a ghost they’ve sworn not to acknowledge. They’re doing Olympic‑level eye‑avoidance. I could’ve been holding a sign that said “HELP ME” and they still would’ve stared at the floor like it owed them money.

Fine. I go back to my car and call.

They answer immediately.

“Hi, I have an 8 a.m. appointment but the doors won’t open.”

“That’s because we’re closed. I’ll be right out.” 

Click.

No goodbye. No “hold on one moment.” Just a dial tone and the faint sound of my patience evaporating.

I look at Ishka, who has finally settled into a cozy little loaf in my arms, and apologize for the emotional whiplash she’s about to experience.

I walk back to the door, dodging puddles and salt piles like I’m navigating a booby‑trapped temple. The manager unlocks the door, looks at me, and says:

“Didn’t ring the bell?”

I blink. “Hi, good morning… I’m sorry… what?”

She gestures toward the world’s tiniest button: a microscopic dot all the way to the far right of the doors. Beneath it is an equally microscopic sign that says, Ring Bell During Off Business Hours. You would need a magnifying glass, a flashlight, and a prayer to notice it.

“You’re supposed to ring the bell,” she repeats, smiling at the neighboring business like she’s just solved world hunger.

“Well, no one mentioned a bell when I booked,” I say, already over this conversation. “But now I know for next time.”

I walk past her into the groomer’s office, where I’m greeted by a young woman who looks like she woke up ten minutes ago and lost the battle with her alarm clock. Honestly, same,  but I’m not the one holding scissors near someone’s dog.

Here’s my issue: 

If you’re going to schedule grooming appointments before business hours, maybe, just maybe, tell people about the secret doorbell. Send a text. Leave a voicemail. Train a carrier pigeon. Anything.

And if you’re the manager opening the store, maybe keep an eye on the door instead of assuming customers will magically intuit the existence of a button the size of a Tic Tac.

It blows my mind how often customers are treated like we’re inconveniencing a business by… going to the business. And spending money. Wild concept.

And don’t even get me started on mobile groomers. I’ve left voicemails. I’ve sent emails. I’ve practically begged. Not a single call back. At this point, I’m convinced mobile groomers are a myth, like unicorns, or people who enjoy folding fitted sheets.

What happened to customer service? When did sarcasm become the default setting? Why is kindness treated like an optional add‑on? The manager’s tone this morning was unnecessary, unhelpful, and honestly exhausting. Being rude takes effort. Being kind is free. And yet here we are.

Anyway, Ishka got her bath. I got a story. And next time, I’ll be ringing that microscopic bell like I’m summoning a butler in a Victorian mansion.

Who Are They Without Us? A Playful Rant About a Not‑So‑Playful Problem

Let’s be honest: it’s a true shame that we, as a society, have let the ruling class, the infamous 1%, treat us like background characters in the story of their own wealth. And the wildest part? We’ve practically handed them the pen. If we hadn’t let them divide and conquer us over the last several years, imagine what we could do together. Imagine the power we’d have if we remembered the one thing we all share: we are the consumers who keep the entire machine running.
And yet… look at what we’re getting in return.

The Quality Is Down, the Prices Are Up, and Somehow We’re Still Saying “Thank You”

Consumers across the country are noticing something is off, and it’s not just you being picky. According to a 2025 Axios/Harris Poll, 69% of Americans say the quality of everyday products has noticeably declined, even as prices continue to skyrocket. Businesses are passing along higher costs, padding profits, and delivering worse products. A magical trifecta, if you’re a CEO.
And customer service? Don’t get me started. The American Customer Satisfaction Index reports that customer satisfaction has dipped again, reaching near‑record lows. Companies love to blame “rising customer expectations,” but the data shows expectations haven’t changed much at all. Translation: it’s not us. It’s them.

Why Are We So Comfortable With Mediocrity?

We complain, oh, we complain. We leave the annoyed Google review. We send the “this wasn’t what I ordered” email. And what do we get?
A coupon.
A refund.
A “We’re so sorry, please give us another chance!”
Cute. But does anything actually change? Do they improve the product? Do they train their staff? Do they stop cutting corners?
No. No, because they don’t have to.
For every one of us who speaks up, three more stay silent and just pay the bill. Corporations know this. They bank on it, literally!

We’re Funding the Very System We Complain About

I’m tired of watching big corporations dictate what we buy, how much we spend, and what level of quality we’re “allowed” to expect. We deserve better than this cycle of low‑quality goods, high prices, and “customer service” that feels like a hostage negotiation.
And here’s the kicker: consumer spending is still strong, even though people feel worse about the economy and more frustrated with rising prices. Companies know we’ll keep buying, even when we’re unhappy. That’s why nothing changes.


So… What If We Actually Did Something About It?
What if we stopped playing along?
What if we all, yes, all, decided to stop buying from companies that treat us like walking wallets? What if we went on a coordinated consumer strike? What if we remembered that they are nothing without us?
Because that’s the truth.
Strip away our purchases, our subscriptions, our clicks, our loyalty, and what’s left?
A corporation with no customers.
A brand with no audience.
A billionaire with no revenue stream.
They need us far more than we need them.
We Deserve Better. And We Know It.
We deserve products that aren’t falling apart.
We deserve customer service that doesn’t feel like a chore.
We deserve prices that don’t require a small loan.
We deserve corporations that respect the people who keep them alive.
And the moment we decide to act collectively, really act, they’ll have no choice but to change.
So, the real question isn’t whether they’ll listen.
It’s whether we’re finally ready to stop whispering our frustration and start using the power we’ve had all along.
Who are they without us?
Exactly.

365 Days: A Different World

Most of us adults absolutely hate time for its rapid passing. It’s easy to understand why since with every tic of that clock we progressively get older, eventually leading us to a state of non-physical existence. For me, with every moment that passes I see it as a transformation in its slowest form. Maybe I feel the way that I do because the kind of transformation I see is one of positivity and growth, yet sometimes this growth can be unexpected and painful. This is when we can become frustrated and impatient with what newness is to come no matter how grand the newness might be.

It’s been officially 2 weeks since I left my job. While at first, I was busy with plans, both exciting and stressful, I really had no time to think about the events that has transpired at work. Today I woke up a bit pissed off. Today was the first day that I actually thought to myself, “What the fuck happened and WHY?”

When I first began working for my boss, it was at a time when I was looking to make a little bit of extra cash without getting too serious about the work. At the time I was working for my boyfriend, and although it was going ok, I wanted to branch out and do something different. This was during the time of lock-down and its coming to an end. Businesses were opening but with stimulus checks still being dished out like hot cakes, no one was applying. It was on a random day after my sister arrived home from her job that she mentioned how incredibly short staffed they were in the kitchen and that they desperately needed help especially with summer right around the corner. I had no experience other than a couple short years of vocational culinary school under my belt, but as I always say, I’m always up for a new challenge, and so I interviewed.

It was the following week that I began my new job. I was only to work one day a week to start, which was perfect for me. I had told myself and everyone else that I wouldn’t be working there for too long, but that for the moment it was satisfying. It wasn’t long before this perfect little plan came crumbling down when it was almost immediately that my boss lost 2 other employees unexpectedly, increasing my shifts to one day a week to 4. It wasn’t soon after that, with the summer season in full swing that I was increased to full-time, 5 days a week shifts. I couldn’t help but feeling like a fish out of water, but in no time, I was keeping up and really excelling. My work was being executed much better than I imagined. I could feel how proud my boss was of me, which in turn gave me a boost of confidence and energy. With only a revolving door of people joining our team, it felt as though my boss and I were truly a 2 man show. We built a strong work relationship that turned into a family-ship, or so I thought.

I have always said how a in a year so much can change. Plans you thought you had cemented can fade away with the wave of the Universe’s hand, and in a blink of an eye, you become lost along your path. This is exactly what happened in my case. After a year of working for my company, I felt like a star. My boss and I had talks about future business plans. I felt like I had been gifted a role-model, someone to guide me on my financial journey. During slow times, we’d talk about stocks, investing, real estate, you name it. By this point he had hired a cousin of a family friend to work with us. He was what you would call your typical line cook. I won’t go into many details of the kind of person this was other than his struggles were heavily worn on his being, and although he was a chore to work alongside of, one couldn’t help but feel bad for the guy. Little did I know was that in time, I would be feeling sorry for myself.

To make a very long story short an entire evolution happened in that kitchen. This new hire created a different set of issues I never once saw coming. After him came quite a few new hires. Some didn’t stay longer than a training period. Some lasted a bit longer but not by much. All left because of this guy and his brash, unpredictable personality. Eventually, replacements came for those who quit, but instead of starting them alongside of this guy, my boss started them in what was known to be as my position at the time, and he moved me back with him. I was being demoted in the name of saving new hires. Now, I wasn’t told I was being demoted, no. Nor was it implied. It was made to seem as though I was moving up with just a little less of the responsibility, the responsibility that I grew to love, the responsibility I felt happily anchored to. It was like taking a genius from his advanced classes and tossing him into a special needs program. I was not being challenged therefore there was no passion anymore. I felt as though I was mainly babysitting this employee, being given menial duties, while those that got hired after me were being trained in sections of the job that I hadn’t even been taught yet. As time progressed, my inner spirit dimmed, and where before I couldn’t wait to get to work, for it at times was my saving grace from homelife, work soon became torture.

A month and a half, it took, before I put in my 2 weeks’ notice. It wasn’t even a choice but more of being pushed into a corner. When on one hand you can continue working in an unhappy work environment and on the other you’ve got the opportunity to leave in order to be happy, there is no choice in the matter. I chose happiness. What is so heartbreaking to me is that my boss never chose me. It was disappointing the first time I addressed my unhappiness to my boss and I barely felt the compassion. It was even more devastating when I decided to put in my notice and him not even once asking me if there was anything he could do to keep that from being the case. The only notation of him even remotely caring was his final text to me saying, “I’m sorry to see you go but you’ve got to do what’s best for you,” meanwhile, what I felt what was best for me was for him to not let me leave. Not one inquiry was made on my behalf as to why I was leaving. It was as if it was a hidden reality no one wanted to go into detail about. In total this person whom he chose over me had a tally of 4 employees quitting due to him, and my boss (ex-boss) was fine with keeping him. Had he not remembered all the time, effort, and dedication I put into that place? I guess not when you have new people coming in that are just as good as I was.

The slap in the face came a few days after I left. His wife, business partner, reached out to me to thank me for the time I gave them (insert huge eye roll here). I can appreciate a nice gesture as such, but to me this was the biggest load of boloney, and it was all coming out of the mouth of the person it shouldn’t have. Her main focal point is manning the front, not the kitchen. It would have been proper for my boss to have reached out and said something nice like that.

In all reality, I know my timer ran out for that job. I know that I was not meant to be a line cook forever, and that there are bigger and better opportunities waiting for me. I also know life doesn’t just close one door without leaving at least a window open for you. I may not have been mentally prepared for having to leave, but I did, and I am happy for my decision. What I wish was for a bit more compassion from the person who I grew to love like family. Sometimes we have to come to understand that it’s those very people who you build an unexpectedly tight bond with that are going to create the heartaches you so desperately try to avoid. Although this was a tough experience for me to go through, it does not tarnish my shine, nor do I feel stifled in allowing for new people and experiences to come in. I will forever try my hardest and push to do my best, not for anyone else but for myself, and when the time comes for the experience to end, I will show myself the gratitude and compassion that other’s I feel should have and did not. I’ll take this lesson and put it in my back pocket so that later on in life I don’t make the same mistakes that were made with me.

Thrifty Messages

There is something nostalgic and slightly romantic about buying used books from a thrift store. I can only imagine if those books could tell a story beyond the one it holds within its pages what it would tell. Details of its journey, and the hands it has been held in. Had it ever been forgotten by its owner and picked up by someone random? Had it been treasured and adored, until the day that was no longer the case, or had it been ignored, left to collect dust in the back of someone’s shelf?

No matter how the tale went, these books have made their way to the donation shelves and into my hands. In the beginning I always leaf through the pages and look for the dedications, scribbled notes, or highlighted sections. It is almost like getting a glimpse into a phase of a stranger’s life. A stranger whose book made its way into my life, a confirmation that there is someone out there who had these pages in common with me. I read the messages they leave to their loved ones, always uplifting, empowering, full of love and best wishes. I try to imagine the sender taking a second to jot it down, and its receiver reading, holding it to their hearts with excitement and comfort. Scrawled messages, questions, moments of enlightenment fill in the margins, allowing me access to their thoughts, thoughts now frozen in time.

I don’t always make it out to the thrift stores as much as I used to, which saddens me since it is half of the fun when selecting these little gems. When I discovered Thriftbooks.com that became a game changer. For the most part, if I’m looking for something in particular, I will usually find it on there. Prices are very similar to those you’ll encounter at your typical thrift store. However, the newer the book (you will find new books sold on here) and depending on whether or not it’s in demand, you can find yourself paying full price for certain reads. With every purchase you make you get points that allow for free book purchases later on.

My latest purchase included 5 books, two on Yoga and the other three are self-help books on Leadership and Business management. I’ve been having trouble with my work team lately and so I decided to purchase a couple of books to see what I can learn and in turn, improve on. As I opened up the first book, “Leadership and The One Minuet Man” there written in black ink, barely legible, was a message:

Dear Malcolm,

Thanks for everything you have done for me, more than you will ever know. Keep inspiring others. Keep inspiring yourself. Have a great year!

George

It was a wonderful message and maybe even more inspiring than what the author of the book had to share with me. So, as to not let it die, I did what any other person would do. I stole it for myself for it was exactly what I needed to hear.

The Final Act

Panic attacks. I used to get them periodically and what always triggered them, it was never anything else, were thoughts of death. I guess that’s what happens when at a young age you begin to lose people.

The attacks would always start with a small thought, something innocent like seeing roadkill, or hearing a piece of news on the radio about some celebrity’s passing. I would start to think about how they’re no longer able to soak up the day’s sunrays, or ever appreciate what it feels like when a spring’s breeze kisses your face. I’d begin to think about how their loved ones somewhere out there in the world would be heartbroken for what it would feel like a lifetime to come. The thoughts would then trickle into my personal life. What if I lose my mother?… or my sister? What if right now someone crashes into me, T-boned, and POOF! Lights out?

THAT’S when the panic would slowly slither in.

It would start with a slight flicker of the pulse in my neck. It felt like a double click; trigger being pulled. My throat would feel constricted by only a little at first, making it an actual thought to swallow instead of the instinct that it is. My hands would begin to get clammy and would ball up in anticipation of what was to come, and a cold sweat would soon then follow. Thoughts all the while tumbling around my mind, detailing the sudden death, a death that hasn’t happened yet.

This went on for a number of years at times being almost debilitating, but with the help of things like meditation and such, I slowly was able to control these attacks. Instead of having such a fear of what is death, I in turn decided to change my mindset and learned to adapt a healthy respect for it. Regardless of the respect, there are times in which I simply do get caught off guard by what is the final act in this play called Life. Especially when someone so amazing suddenly goes.

It makes no difference the way in which a loved one passes, it’s never easy. I do find it excruciatingly difficult to grasp when someone who is young and full of life dies without one ever seeing it coming. I’ve lost many people in my life this way, more than half of them being when I was still too young to fully understand the permanence of what was happening. Recently however, the ones in my life that passed have really taken me back, almost to those moments of panic because now I do understand the permanence of it, as well as the randomness. I see and logically comprehend that amazingly good hearted people, wise souls that shine a light onto this sometimes dark and violent world, aren’t immune to being taken early. Emotionally I cannot understand it. My heart doesn’t compute why the good ones go so young and as I get older, I don’t think it ever will.

No matter how hard I try to put words to how I feel about my friend’s recent passing I simply cannot. When I tell you that this world lost an amazing person, I cannot describe to you how much I seriously I mean it. An intelligent, compassionate soul who truly did make a positive impact on this world, because anyone who came across him would forever be changed in their most positive of ways. To extinguish that torch was to make this place just a little darker, but if you believe in heaven, it just got a heck of a lot brighter.

However sad and painful, I still try to find the silver lining. I guess it goes to say that I haven’t really lost them, but if anything I now have quite a crew waiting for me to get back. I am in no rush, but I do find comfort in that. Until then, all can really do is clichély live my life in tribute to them and seize the chances and opportunities, living for those who could not.

A COV(ert)ID Silverlining

When all of this “virus” chatter began, I will admit that I wasn’t fully convinced at the gravity of it all. I blame our government and media outlets for that. They have broken my trust on many levels, so pardon me that it took me some time to believe what was being said. Lucky for me I learned at a young age to look outside of mainstream media sources and to dig deeper when seeking out the truth. Slowly I began to ingest what was truly going on and instead of brushing it off as, once again, another media-driven hysteria, I began to heed what was being warned. For me, it went from being “virus” chatter to serious virus talk.

I am currently on day 8 of our “official” lockdown and although I have been able to see friends and family periodically, it was only in the last three days that I have chosen to completely isolate myself, and not for the reasons that you may think. 

Amid all the calamity this virus has brought to our front doors, I’d like to think of all this as a necessary evil for society and what’s left of this starving planet Earth.

I might get shit for calling this pandemic a “necessary evil”. How could I say such a thing when so many people have died? But like a war, a battle being fought for the greater good, it has its deaths by the thousands of the guilty and of the innocent alike; it is exactly that, war. This type of war, however, isn’t to bring together land and eradicate manmade borders. This war is an internal war, not only physically but spiritually and emotionally. It’s a war to remind us of where we came from. It’s a war for time, because humanity needed time. Humanity needed a break from it all.

The last three days have been filled with a lot of self-reflection. I’ve been taking a look inside myself, asking myself questions, and having discussions that I should’ve had long ago. I limited my T.V time and within the silence, I have found sparks of creativity. I’m able to connect with nature better and I even feel as though the Universe speaks to me louder and more clearly without all the every day static I had grown conditioned to. I have learned to be a little more resourceful and a lot less wasteful. I’ve become more aware of the immediate things I must change to improve who I am.  I’ve become aware of the things I will gradually give up in order to live my version of a better life.

Some people end up finding themselves while lost at sea. Some find themselves after veering off track and getting lost in the wilderness. We have been given the chance to find ourselves within the confines (and comfort) of our own home. We have been given that extra bit of vacation time. We have been given the chance to learn from crisis hoarders, that greed leads you nowhere other than to the land of Overloaded and Nowhere To Store It.  We have been given extra time with our family, with our pets, with our crafts. We have been given the space to work on ourselves; the time to detox from everything that has been pumped into our senses.

I have read that for us here in the U.S it’s only going to get worse before it gets better. I also hear that “getting better” still means that we’re going to be set back about a decade.  Whether any of that is true or not, I don’t know. We’ll call it what it is, speculation. I say that if at the end of all of this there is more genuine happiness within homes all around the world, genuine happiness within our own home, and with one’s self than I’ll pay that price. In the end, we are all going to be going through it together and there is comfort in that. This is a covert opportunity to change humanity in wonderful ways if only we begin to choose love before greed. We have the ability to rebuild a stronger and better world by going through such adversity together. I wish that through all if this social distancing and social isolation, after all the souls who have passed on because of this virus, we end up choosing to do good to one another.

“We will have suffered together, we will have fought through it together, and we will overcome together.”

 

 

 

This Round of Retrograde

Let me tell you a bit about how I’ve been fairing during this retrograde. It has literally been kicking my ass.

It began uneventful. I remember thinking to myself, “Is it possible? Will I be able to get away unscathed this time around?” The instant I thought it, I wanted to kick myself because at that moment I felt as though I had jinxed myself.

By day four life was still smooth sailing and I figured that maybe, just maybe that by realizing I had jinxed myself days before, I had inadvertently jinxed the jinx and it had just canceled each other out. I mean, in life anything is possible, right?

WRONG!!! SO SO SO WRONG!!!

Ok, so…

If you’re not big into astrology and universal vibrations, things of this nature, you must be thinking, “What the fuck is this person even talking about? Retro-what now?” I totally understand that. I also understand that many of you won’t care for specifics as to the details of what mercury’s retrograde is and other’s who have heard of it and find it to be a bunch of baloney. Short description for those of you who are interested is a 3 week period that happens every few months in which the planet Mercury shifts differently within its rotation throwing off the balance of how certain things operate. During this period communication with others is poor, electronics malfunction, travel plans become more difficult to follow through with, and every thing is more accident prone. Luck isn’t very much on your side, anyone’s side really. If you find the topic interesting or feel as though it’s pretty relateable to you, I do suggest looking it up and doing further research on it.

I am a HUGE believer in all of this and the last few days have been a testament to its validity. Its almost as if the Universe has decided to turn my life into the poster child of the unluckiness this period of time can be.

A week ago today is when it all began. It was my last day off before I had to return to work for the weekend. I took myself out to breakfast to my favorite local diner. After a delicious meal and a bit of relaxation, it was time to head out and continue with the day’s errands. As I get into my car and go to start it, dead. Alright, no biggie. I’ve got a power box in the back seat so I hook it up to the battery and jump it.

I continue on about my day without much of glitch until later on that evening I decide to log onto my bank site to check on things when I noticed that airline tickets were purchased with my card. Living in a metropolitan area one finds that this happens all the time. Since moving to South East Florida I have had to get my account suspended and card replaced numerous times. This time was no different, it would be 5-7 business days before I would receive it. I could get a temporary card from the bank to hold me over but unfortunately it was already late in the evening and banks were closed and I worked all day Friday and the entire weekend. It was no problem really. I would just patiently wait.

The next morning it became a problem. My car wasn’t starting and I had to get t work. I was running early to work until I spent 15 mins trying to get it to start. I gave up, went upstairs to wash up, and decided on calling an Uber and dealing with the car trouble later.

Uber: “Unable to process payment. Please reenter payment option below”

FUCK!

Since my bank account is suspended any links to it would be too. I have no other forms of plastic and therefore no other means of independently getting to work so I opted to ring a friend. I made it to work an hour late but just in time to help with the rush. A nice and busy day is what my wallet needed especially now with the unexpected car troubles waiting for me once I got home.

I had a quick dinner with a coworker of mine. After work we decided on grabbing a bite to eat and then went our separate ways, her on her bike, me in an old school taxi cab. On the way home I realized that, me not being used to having to call cabs, had used most of my cash at dinner so if I wanted to leave the driver a tip Id have to run up to my apartment to grab some. We arrived and I quickly explained the situation, exited the cab, ran up, and then down again in seconds. It hadn’t been until 30-45 mins later, once I polished off the rest of my left over dinner, that I realized that my phone was missing. I had left it in the cab.

Without my phone I have no internet.  Since moving into this apartment I hadn’t splurged on buying internet for a couple different reasons, one of them being that Xfinity is the only provider in this area and I REFUSE to use Comcast/Xfinity. Instead, I decided to just use my mobile hot spot. That choice was all fine and dandy until now. Without internet or my phone, there was no way of contacting anyone. So here I am, no car, no debit card, no phone, and no internet. Great….

I set the oven timer as my morning alarm and went to bed. I had to work at 9 am the next day and I would need the rest.

Its been exactly one week since things in my life started to tank. I was able to get through the weekend, getting to work and back with the help of neighbors and coworkers. I’ve had off from work since Tuesday (its Thursday now) but haven’t really enjoyed or relaxed because I have been having to deal with one thing or the other. I’m still waiting to get my card. I’m truly hoping (fingers crossed) that it arrives today. Cabs are way too expensive.

After battling with Verizon’s RIDICULOUS process of filing a claim on a lost phone, they shipped me a phone last night so I should be getting it today. My car? It’s no more. I’ve come to the final realization that it is truly time to sell her.

Has this week been an easy week? No, not one bit. Yet, I will say that up until yesterday I have handled everything pretty well if you were to ask me. I say “until yesterday” because after realizing that Verizon still hadn’t shipped out my phone due to “insufficient documentation” I freaked out a bit. Luckily it was just the pets and I that got to bare witness to my mini meltdown. As soon as it was over (it took approximately 5 mins from start to finish) I felt so much better.

I sat and thought about my entire situation, and although many wouldn’t agree with me, I say that it all could have been much worse. I was lucky that my car hadn’t broken down anywhere else, leaving me stranded. I was lucky enough to have had a dear friend of mine (really one of the only two I have here) help me with sending in the paperwork for my phone, rides to and from work, ect. I was lucky to have had the last 3 days off so that I had time to deal with all of this. I’m also lucky in the way that I love reading, and writing, and was able to entertain myself  through these while not having a phone or internet to distract me.

In the next couple of weeks I will be going through some major life changes. I can’t help but think that this period of retrograde was a true end to all of what no longer serves me. A tearing down of what was in order to make way for the rebuild of what’s to come. I am excited. Months ago I had begun to minimize the junk in my life. I wanted to not just start over from scratch but to maintain the lightness of what it feels to be free. Free of gadgets, materialistic shit I never use, freedom of always having to stay connected, freedom from obligations or expectations placed upon me, not for my benefit but for the sake of other’s happiness. This past week has shown me a lot. It has freed me from certain things and has reminded me that life isn’t what makes it comfortable. Life is about living in the moments, embracing its natural beauty of all that is around us. Life is also about the moments of discomfort, because those are the moments that allow for us to grow much taller and s Continue reading

Contending With Honesty

My relationship with honesty has always been irregular.

As a kid, I would make up stories even about the most typical parts of my life. I had my reasons, though. It wasn’t because I loved lying. I used to hate to think about it as lying. I chose to think of it as storytelling. I told stories to fit in with the crowd. I used to think that all the kids I met had cool lives. I wanted a cool life too and so I would spruce up certain things about mine just to make me feel like I was like them.

I did eventually grow out of it. It was exhausting, not only portraying someone that you’re not, but it was hard to realize that others would in turn read me wrong. I felt like no one really knew me, let alone understood me, and how could they? I wasn’t giving anyone the real version of me. As I got into high school being honest soon started to become my new addiction. So much so, that I became brutally honest. That began a totally new battle. Instead of before when my battle with honesty seemed more internal, now it was starting to become a more physical battle with others.

I became explosive with my honesty. If I was feeling a certain way about something, I was letting you know whether you wanted to listen or not. There was no sugar coating anything. What for? To add confusion? To allow someone to believe that things were one way when in reality it wasn’t, or to soften the blow? I felt as though that was all wasting time and why do that? Arguments with people would ensue, be it with friends or family. Then that too started to become exhausting.

It wasn’t until my 20’s, once I moved away from home and began to really look into my self, that I began looking at life and how to handle it differently. Soul searching provided me with a different view on how to approach certain aspects of life, especially that of being honest. I learned that it was important to share your thoughts and your true feelings with others so that there would less confusion and more understanding. It was OK to be brutal but just as easily OK to soften the blows, and that there was a time and place. Yet, since then I have come to understand that I now have a new hill to climb. I now struggle with the patience that must be had when it comes to others and their understanding of honesty.

To me, I see honesty as a privilege that we should be allowed to have. It should be our prerogative, as human beings, to want to express it as well as be able to receive it. The thing is, people only see life and everything about it, from their own perspective. Human beings are so self absorbed in their own lives and feelings towards it, that they tend to forget that others that they are sharing this existence with my have a different spin on what they share as the same situation. That’s how feelings get dismissed and how lives become discounted and discredited.

Take, for instance, a “break up” (if we could even call it that) I had about 4 years ago. A good friend of mine and I were becoming reacquainted again after my move back from CA. We began going on dates here and there, which later then turned into midnight escapades. It was fun but only until I started realizing that he was falling hard and I, simply put, just wanted to have fun. I was honest and explained that him and I were on two different planes in life and although everything was fine, I simply did not see him “in that way” and felt that it would only be right to end what was going on. It was difficult for me to do because I knew of how he felt for me. Who wants to break someone’s heart? Yet, I couldn’t lead him on or waste his time nor mine. His reaction wasn’t good. He hated me of course and called me every name in the book. He went on to talk shit about me to all his friends, spewing all sorts of negativity to anyone who would listen. I was in shock. I knew he was going to be upset, but to the point that he had spoken so ill of me? I was in shock because I hadn’t understood what he had wanted me to do. Had he wanted me to lie to him and put up a charade all so his ego’s needs could be met? It took so much patience to not lash out the way I wanted to about that situation and that’s only one example. I see it everyday with the people I come in contact with , the battles we all have with honesty and all the internal and external struggles it comes with. So are battles with honesty that irregular then? Or is it actually more common than we considering human beings and how we think, which is in mainly an introspectively self absorbed way.

I place a high value on honesty when it comes to terms with myself and others. I choose to be a woman of integrity and want for my character to always be able to be described as open, honest, and approachable. I want to be receptive because if I want to be heard, I too need to listen in order to understand.

I guess maybe these aren’t even battles with honesty at all. It’s just learning life.

Yes We Are And This Is Why

I was apart of a very interesting conversation not too long ago which included my boyfriend and one of his good friends.  They were speaking of the best method to clean car headlights.

“Bro, all you have to do is spray your headlights with OFF bug spray and bam! They’re clean!”

“Yeah, you told me that but when I looked it up it said that it doesn’t last very long. It’s a short term fix. I’m just going to buy the special kit and clean them. I can clean yours too babe.” My boyfriend smiles, turning his attention from his friend to where I was sitting.

“Awe, I appreciate that! But don’t worry, I can just do it.” The statement spilled from my lips without a second’s thought. It has always been natural for me to do things on my own. For one thing, I’ve never liked to burden others with tedious duties, especially if it’s something I could easily just do my self. Plus, I’ve always been one to just take care of things on my own. Not so much because I want to but because I’ve been conditioned to. My boyfriend’s friend, who I just met a couple months ago, wouldn’t have a clue as to the reasoning of my reaction though and he quickly starts to lay it on thick…

“Lord.. all you women now-a-days are so independent! Can’t you girls just let us do things for you? I mean, it’s because we actually like to do things for you. It’s how we show that we care, seriously…”

He is not the only man to feel this way. I feel as though the majority of men see women as wanting to be Miss. Independent, yet to be honest, I don’t think it is so much of us wanting to be independent as it is that we have been conditioned to be this way.

My generation is the generation of the baby boomer parents. Baby boomers are the generation to have really started a new trend in parenting, instilling different values and ways of life. Whether you were married and then divorced, raising children that way, or never married to begin with and having children out of wedlock, one of the major lessons taught, be it beaten into you or subconsciously taught, was the lesson of being independent. Doing for yourself so you would never have to solely depend on others. This lesson being especially directed towards females. Men were always raised as being the “men of the house”. Families have always depended on men to bring home food, to help build and maintain shelter and order. Men were always looked as the bosses, the ones who truly ran the household. It has only been in the last 50 years or so that women have begun a new sort of revolution with what they wanted their contributions to be. More freedom to choose what, where, when, and who when it came to decisions to be made in their lives. Even women who have been in a loving marriage for decades will say that they wish a sort of different life for their daughters, one with more leeway to do what they want to do and without having to depend on anyone other than themselves.

My parents divorced when I was 4 years old. At that time, my mother had depended on my father so much that she didn’t even know to fill out a personal check on her own. She had been so utterly dependent on my father that when they split up, she felt as if she had been thrown into a world she knew nothing of. It was a struggle for her to get back on her feet and succeed as a single mother of two young girls. Her mantra always was, “Do for yourself. Depend on no man. You are all you need.” and as a kid, watching and observing, I took this in and applied it to my life. Before I knew it, it was my life.

I am no extreme feminist by any means. Yet, I do understand the thoughts behind those that are, just as I understand the frustrations plaguing men when it comes to the evolution of women and the roles men now play in their lives. But as it is a struggle for men to adapt to a woman’s newly found independence, it is also a struggle for women to find a middle ground with wanting to be independent while also allowing room for someone else to help take care of you. It is a small battle that presents itself regularly in life. One that I don’t ever see being won by either party but one that can be a bit more manageable.

For me it is a struggle to let go of the reigns a bit and allow for someone else to take on  more than what I am used to giving up. I have to remind myself that yes, although I am very independent, I also have to allow others who love me to do things for me, not because I can’t do them myself but because for them, it’s a way to show that they care. It takes effort and awareness to be able to allow for this to happen but it’s a challenge worth accepting if it means bringing a bit of joy into someone else’s life. I hope that for the women who read this post it allows for you to take a step back, however slight that step may be, in order to allow someone else to do for you. Allow them to care for you in ways that they would like to express. Give them that chance to express. I also hope that for the men who read this you may now understand that maybe it isn’t so much that we hate your help. It is that we have grown into independence and truly know nothing else.

Alone Time

Today, enjoying you is what I really want to do. I crave the comforting silence that comes from being enveloped by you. It is like a fuzzy, warm blanket embracing me during a dark and cold winter’s night.

Some people run from you. They try desperately to avoid any moment they could have with you. They will force themselves into dissatisfying situations as to not share a second by your side. Not I. I, instead, yearn to find any stolen chance I can get to have you for even a moment’s time.

You are what recharges my battery. You help clear my mind and my emotions from the confusion and murkiness of what at times can be called life. The constant chaos that circles above my head clanging its pots and pans for attention can be muted by time spent within you.

Alone time, you are my friend, my much needed companion. In a world where we are always surrounded by some person or thing, pulling for our attention this way and that way, I find solace in you. You allow for me to become reasonable during times of distress and frustration. When I am too high or too low for my own good, you are there to level me once again.

Many don’t understand this relationship between you and I. They see it as hint of depression. They’ll think that it is a form of me crying out for help or that I am in need of attention. If only they understood the absolute joy you bring me and the joy you could bring them if they took the time to find that moment too. They will read this and make claims of how unhappy I must be if I need to have my alone time… Oh how that thinking tickles me.

Only those who truly know me can understand how ignorance has poisoned how those people think. You are my one forever lover. Our rendezvous, meditation time.