War Of Pride In The Middle

 We are in a war of pride right now. I said that to my husband tonight and he didn't get it, but it shook me...I heard it come out of my mouth and it hit me. That's EXACTLY the world I am living in right now...a world that is in a war of pride. 

I was lucky enough to receive my first COVID vaccination shot today. I have had MONTHS to go get it. I did not feel lucky. I felt scared. I felt uneducated. I felt responsible. I felt inadequate. I felt ungrateful. I felt confused. I felt entitled, I felt privileged. I FELT....period. 

I believe in science. I have a B.S. (not that it makes me someone, I'm just saying I wanted a B.A. but the science part of me won out and that's what I went for.)

I don't like being scared of science. I don't like living in a world where there is so much information thrown at me that I don't understand what my own thoughts are anymore, because I think I know my brain and my ability to have choice and critically think and I believe I do. Meet me on a random Tuesday and I'll tell you all about what I stand for. I'm strong. I've travelled. I'm educated (grammar in this post excluded)…I want to learn! Put me in a pharmacy getting ready to get an injection and I take a different stance. 

AND THAT'S OK

It's OK to question, It's OK to ask. More importantly it's OK to be scared. 

So here I am and I am doing something that "random Tuesday Danielle" would have been sure of, but I'm terrified. My heart is racing and I'm trying to be cool, but I'm not...I'm not cool at all. 

So I think about where the voice in my head that is screaming "get the FUCK out of here" is coming from. I think about how I spend hours a day reading reputable sources and how I think about people I PERSONALLY KNOW who are fighting against a virus some call a hoax. I think about how yeah...we are really new to this way of living, and we are fucking impatient because we are human so why do I have to make such hard decisions? Why do I have to choose a side? Why do I have to fight while others accuse me of complying and being weak? Who is the dumb one? Who is the one who is wrong? Who wins?

NO ONE WINS.. because we are in a war of pride. We are in a war of I have somehow come to know better than you. How does a reasonable objective person find footing in a place like that? You know what? You fucking don't. Period. You do what is in your heart. Is your heart about you or is it about the world? The answer I got today is it is about both. It's about critically thinking about the environment in which you are making a life in and assessing what the best move is. Data..not feelings. 

I hate that. 

Full transparency, I am a fiscal analyst. I support my family by analyzing data  ALL...DAY..LONG....

I look at what the data says and I chase it. Simple as that. You come to me with a question or a problem I ask for data to back it up. Show me the numbers, I'll chase the solution. 

COVID isn't like that for me. WAR isn't like that. I can't get enough solid info to make it stick. I have people I deeply love on both sides of the "war of pride". Both of them spout numbers, both of them spout articles...both of them are right in their own realties. I don't know how to reconcile that kind of conflict. 

So what makes it a war of pride? What makes me think that? It's because fear wins out on this one. We are all scared. Pride and ego (which are the best and worst survival mechanisms by the way) convince us that WE know the answers..because when you are really scared and the world seems completely bat shit crazy you want definitives. You want solid no anomalies, no grey area answers. 

Just like any other war. You find an enemy..and if the enemy doesn't have a face you give it one. It's all of the sudden a democrat or a republican or a socialist or a feminist or an anti-vaxxer or a college graduate or a conspiracy theorist or a Trump supporter or what the fuck ever you need it to be. 

I hate that. 

I am married to my political/physical/emotional/intelligent opposite in just about every way. We are MARRIED... you know how fucking hard that is? You know how much both of us have worked to try and be that way? It's insane. 

I chose to have a partner that I have to come toe to toe with in the "war of pride" damn near every day and now the whole fucking world wants me to rally?

Fuck that.

I chose love. 

I chose to take chances and maybe not have all the information, and maybe not be the smartest kid on the block and maybe be real unsure that I am even qualified to be an adult and be part of who is running this planet. 

I want to believe that all of us are really doing that in our own way. 

This is not a call for more division. This is a call for empathy. 

Humans will not change, especially in times of uncertainty unless it directly affects them.

Because we are selfish. Because we have free will. Because at some really deep level, choice and freedom is the most important thing to us. Believe me, historically, zero change would have EVER happened if the innate drive and love of freedom and choice were not part of the human DNA. 

So I asked myself today, sitting in that chair, scared as shit...what am I choosing? 

I am choosing my fellows. I am choosing what my heart thinks is right. I don't have the same heart as you dear reader, I don't pretend to. 

The point is this....if you are going to fight a war of pride, be ready. Fight hard. Fight with your heart. Fight knowing that if you die, you died with the truth of knowing YOU did everything you could. 

One Love

Why Do We Give??

 Hello Friends~

It's been awhile. A very long while since I sat down to write. I was out watering my yard and had all these thoughts coming in my head, all these things I wanted to say and they all sounded great until I got here. It's been over two years since I felt the urge to write. Since I felt compelled to author a post that that might possibly have some substance. But tonight, for some reason it hit me like a ton of bricks and I just knew that it had to be done, shitty or not. 

So the last year and a half has been fucked for everyone right? Can we just all agree on that? Can we all just come to terms with the fact that living/working/managing/parenting /being in a committed relationship of any kind through a pandemic has been absolutely fucking bananas! The world has always been full of uncertainty but I feel like (for me) it was quadrupled by unforeseeable events this last 18 months. 

The latest weird, Universe is going to do what it wants episode was my nephew being admitted to Children's in Seattle only to find out he had a brain tumor. He's 5. His mama, my sister, is carrying her second child. So here is my 20 something sister, pregnant and having to navigate every parents worst nightmare. To give some some context, I'm 40. My "baby" is in college. I don't have to pack lunches anymore. I don't have to school clothes shop. I don't have to change diapers or wonder if someone stuck something in their mouth that doesn't belong there. (And let me tell you friends, life is fucking good when those things are not the problems of the day!) 

I did the only thing I knew how to do which was start a fundraiser for her. This is not wanting credit, but over the last few days I've reflected on how many times in my life it came down to money. My baby was sick, but we still needed to pay for housing and food so I sent her back to daycare to soon because I needed to support us. My baby would have been thrilled for me to volunteer in her classroom or chaperone an outing, but again, mama had to work so go and hug the other moms and tell me about it over dinner. My worst fear when my daughter was little was that something would happen to her where I couldn't work to get us through. In light of recent events....shame on me..... If that would have happened (and thank all the heavens above it hasn't so far) we would have been FINE! You know why? Because humans are naturally kind, and gentle and generous and caring! I remember my good friend talking to me about all  my fears as a mother. I would come home from working 11 hours and call her crying after I put my baby to bed telling her all the things I did wrong. How it was all about me and how I could provide.  If I didn't do it good enough they would take my baby and lock me up because I didn't play enough games, or laugh or read enough books, or pack good enough lunches or what the fuck ever! 

Can we all just for the LOVE OF GOD stop that narrative parents? Can we??

My sister has fiercely fought for her son. There have been many days over the last week I have questioned myself if I would have done the same. Not because I wouldn't die for my child, but because I would have felt "guilty" for doing so. I also would have never had enough faith or whatever you want to call it that it would work out in the end. 

And, so, now we are here.....at this moment and I am forced to truly confront what it means to be human. I am forced to have all my preconceived notions and absolutes of "but what if this were to happen?" faced. And what I am confident of, after 40 years of not trusting and not accepting and not believing is this:

We are here to help each other. Or, in the words of Ram Dass (read him if you haven't) "We are all just walking each other home" 

Isn't that absolutely fucking beautiful!

 There have been so many times I wanted someone to just "walk me home" but ego, and pride and all of the should and should nots got in the way. 

My sister and nephew have received an absolutely amazing outpouring of support. Thanks to the internet and social media, I've looked up some of the donors and man...some of them are people we don't even know. 

So here is the point (finally) of this post. What makes us give? What makes us pause in our crazy lives and feel compassion? Do we give on the internet because we secretly feel bad about not putting away our shopping cart at the grocery store because we were to busy? Do we give because it fills a hole in our egos because we just yelled at our family again for not helping with laundry? Do we give so our name can be shown on a social media platform about how much money we have at our disposal? Do we give because we haven't called our grandma in years and it will make up for it? 

NO. We don't care and give for any of those reasons. (Shitty and realized or unassuming and not) 

We give because there is a genetic/spiritual component to us that we don' even fucking understand. 

We give because that is what we are supposed to do. 

The reallocation of resources is a real thing. Fight me if I'm wrong. 

But it's more than money. It's about keeping each other in our HEARTS! It's about holding doors open when your to busy to. It's about loving your humans (even the ones you "don't know") HARD

It's about having enough faith that there is enough for everyone. Everyone gets a turn accepting and everyone gets a turn giving. It's the Ying and the Yang. (And yes I'm a 90's kid and I wanted that tattoo but it just never happened) 

I know we need each other guys. That might be the only thing this pandemic has taught me. Together, we are better. And YES, we need alone time. Humans are exhausting, but we still need them. Maybe not for 50+ hours a week so we can pay our rent. BUT we do do need each other in the most important way, which is to "Walk each other home".

One Love~ Danielle 

PS...I can't help but give my mother credit for these ramblings...she taught all of her children to "Kill them with kindness" and I like to think that all of us do that in our own way

Bedazzlement in the Middle

Hello Friends,

Happy Easter weekend for those that celebrate this kind of occasion! I'm not religious, but I always have celebrated Easter in my family and it has come to mean different things for me over the years. For me, Easter is a time of rebirth, a time of redoing, transforming, some parts die so that others can have space to be born. I see it outside where I live right now too. I am blessed enough to live in a place that really does have all four seasons, so now that the cold snow is gone, life is exploding all around me.

I just love things that burst and explode! They make me so happy. It's like they have have been sitting under Mother Natures blanket of ice for months and when she finally releases them, gives them a little sun to light the way, they shout with happiness and life. I see it in the tulips coming up in my yard. I hear it in the birds that sing all day and the frogs that echo them all night. I see it on my favorite climbing vine and my ancient lilac tree as they prepare to explode in color and perfume. 

My amazing friend Mariah posted "dazzle the shit out of this day" this morning on social media and I thought to myself, "THAT'S IT!!!". Mother Nature is "dazzling the shit" out of every day around here!! I really love Mother Nature (and Mariah too of course!)..... that woman knows how to make a statement.......knows how to correctly use her natural bedazzler........makes me want to find my own and give it another try! It's like her own personal fourth of July around here and it blows my mind!! My heart almost bursts and explodes when I sit and look and ponder it all. 

It all makes me feel grateful, and I try to hang on and cultivate anything that stirs gratitude in me, because for me, I know, that THOSE THINGS are what gets me through everything else. 

And then there are these daffodils...........

HUH? 

OK, so this is going to sound silly, maybe a little crazy and quite possibly ridiculous, but here we go......

I am obsessed right now on whether or not to steal daffodils from my neighbors yard....

SHHHHHHH!!!

See, neither myself or Mother Nature has "dazzled the shit" out of my yard with these beautiful bouquets of sunshine colored blooms. However, there is an amazing burst of bedazzlement on the side of a house that no one really lives at. I mean, it's like a home away from home type place, a "second home"....(by the way......I have lots of thoughts on the "second home" idea...but I digress.....another post...another time).

In any case......I WANT THEM! I want them in my house.....on my table......pretty much any acceptable surface I can find within my own dwelling.....I don't have a "home away from home"....I have this ONE and I think that Mother Nature wants her work to be enjoyed and admired to the fullest! Obviously THOSE PEOPLE don't give a shit.....they just let them hang out on the side of their "second home".....they don't even get to see them because they are never here.....what a waste.......I would be doing them a favor by stealing...uhh....I mean borrowing some. Maybe I can just leave them a note..........

"Dear neighbor people.....I stole all your daffodils because I needed to bedazzle the shit out of my kitchen table and you weren't using them.....thanks for understanding...crazy neighbor lady across the street."....

That would fly right??

Seriously guys.....it is something that has been weighing on me......I actually devised an attack plan last night when I was doing dinner dishes.......like I was going to break in, or steal a car or something. I thought about what time I should go...(probably night...most sinister things happen at night right??).....What I should wear?......( I should wear a mask.....no...no.....because I live DIRECTLY across the street! If someone sees me and I run it won't matter if they can't see my face......I will be going to MY OWN DAMN HOUSE!) Shit!!.......I am no good at this stealing business.......I guess that's another thing to be grateful for.........Dammit......I forgot that pan over there on the stove.....

You get the idea.....the head squirrels are all jacked up on crazy sauce.......over flowers.....
Yep....sounds about right!

So HOW does all of this tie into being so grateful for these displays of rebirth and springtime Mother Nature awesomeness you ask?? How do we go from being in awe to wanting to steal shit??? Yeah....that's what I have been wondering too, and this is what I came up with.

If it's good....if it's beautiful and it makes me feel grateful...I want MORE!
I go from appreciating the bedazzles to wanting to hoard them like some kind of neurotic sparkle monster.....(that's not a new species by the way...sparkle monsters have been around for awhile...or so I am told....)

Point is....I don't think there is anything abnormal or wrong about wanting more of a good thing. BUT.... I am surprised at how quickly I go to the fear of loosing it. So I devise plans to "stash" more.....so I can have it longer, enjoy it longer, stave off the sadness of it's ending. I go from present moment happiness to "oh shit! I have to get some more of this before it's all gone!".

I don't think that's how we are supposed to "dazzle the shit" out of our days.......
I don't think that Mother Nature says "Yep.....I'm going to throw all this beauty down here and then pop some corn and watch these weirdos try and steal it all away from each other"........
I don't think that's how she rolls.

So, then I start to think about how many other things in my life I try to stash.....try to hold tight to......try to covet and hoard......Oh man....I live in 600sqft........hoarding is a dangerous endeavor.....

What about the emotional and mental things I try to hoard??? What resentments do I nurture that only serve to harm me? What ideas do I cling so tightly to that I deprive new ideas any chance of seeding in my brain?
What things do I not let die, in fear that something will never be reborn in it's place?

Easter, in the religious sense, is about one mans death and subsequent rebirth. A mortal who became immortal. A death that equaled eternal life. A lack that then produced abundance. ( I am not a religious scholar, but that's what the story is about to me.)

And I sit here worried about not having enough daffodils......man......I have a looooongggg way to go in this spiritual path business! Pretty sure not steal shit is "What Jesus Would Do"!

So in the end, I have decided that leaving these daffodils will be my first spring time "dazzle the shit" out of my days exercise for this new season.

I will let the equation of more = safety die. I will embrace the fear that comes with knowing that ALL things leave when they are supposed to. I will live in the fact that life of any kind cannot exist without death. Room for things has to be made....and the Universe knows how to do that much better then me. 
I will take time to thank Mother Nature and absent neighbor people for giving me and THOSE AROUND ME such a beautiful display of bedazzlement. I will rest in the fact that anything worth having can only be increased through sharing. 

I will try my very best to let circumstances, people, ideas, and emotions come and go without fear of loss. Things can have the space they need to bloom, explode and burst without my trying to wrangle hold of them. 
And....of course.....I can have a clean conscious by NOT stealing something that isn't mine.....that always feels good!

I hope you all take time this Easter to think about what you can let die in order to make room for some dazzling awesomeness!!!

One Love,
Danielle







P.S. I haven't been giving credit where credit is due to the pictures that are not my own that I sometimes use in these posts. Below are links to where all images in this particular post can be found. Thank you to all the artists that share their work with us!

http://www.metro.us/sites/default/files/easter_cover_0.jpg

https://assets-production-webvanta-com.s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com/000000/51/74/slider_detail/uploads/plant/1430569955-8f415281447211a30/206389.jpg

http://pad1.whstatic.com/images/thumb/5/5c/Write-a-Dear-John-Letter-Step-4.jpg/aid1847286-v4-728px-Write-a-Dear-John-Letter-Step-4.jpg

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/f2/b6/50/f2b65093f6aea918a949c654ec15aed8.jpg

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/bd/cd/7d/bdcd7db763eb34609f7ccd5b431a64a4.jpg

unDOing in the Middle

Hello Friends,
Of course it has been months since I have made time to write. Someday I imagine myself devoting a set amount of quiet time, coffee in hand, to work on my ramblings, but as of yet that just doesn't seem to be the way life is working. I know you all can relate. We are all to busy "DO-ing". 

Many of you know that I have been suffering with a back injury since July of 2016 and have just now gotten some relief through having a lumbar laminectomy......which is a technical term for getting rid of a ruptured disc that was stuck in between my spine and sciatic nerve. Crazy ass journey. It would appear that my stubbornness was yet again a cause for a delay in healing.......shocker!(Yes! I said that in the most sarcastic tone ever!)

Anytime I have something "BIG" happen I try to find the lesson, and this one is complicated. This particular lesson seems to be all about how my worth as a human is and has always been.....for as long as I can remember directly proportional to what I can "DO". "BIG" and "DO", sums up my life on so many levels. I only feel "BIG" when I "DO". When my injury left me unable to "DO" anything I became a very "small" human being. 

I'll let you guys on a little secret, (OK, maybe it's not a secret).....I am a habitual.... run around at full speed....... anxiety junky..... "DO-er". My life does not have purpose to me unless I am performing some task, creating some new thing or taking care of some other living thing.

 Now that's "normal" right? The stressed out, on the verge of losing your mind and your car keys in the same moment, tired, worried, "DO-er"........that's what we "DO".......that's life.....that's the conundrum of balance right? I want to slow down, I want to do more Yoga, I want to be happy and content with simple, I want the ability to be less of a "DO-er" and more of a "LIVE-er". I "DO"....that's what I'm working on "DO-ing" right?? Slow the F down.....it's on the to-"DO" list!! Check! 

I read about these people who are "LIVE-er's". I read their blogs, I read their books, I know some in actual human form that are in my life but you know I'm a "DO-er", I don't have allot of time to hang out with people who are "LIVE-er's".....I have shit to "DO"!!

Flash forward in this life of being a proud "DO-er" for 30 plus years and all of the sudden I couldn't "DO" anymore. I'm talking I couldn't put on my socks, I couldn't use the bathroom, I couldn't shower without being in so much pain I would cry and have a mental break down five minutes after waking up. I had NEVER encountered anything that had enough power to make me stop "DO-ing"....... Not....freaking....EVER. At least not for an extended period of time. 48 hours max and we are off to the races again. Not this time though. 

That was some scary ass shit for a serial "DO-er". 

Who am I? What in the hell am I going to "DO" (PS....the Universe was very clear that the answer was nothing...but you know I'm not the best listener so it took me a little bit to catch the seriousness of that answer).  

I laid in bed for a solid three weeks unable to "DO" and these are some of the thoughts that my brain tried to eat me alive with........

**If I cannot cook/clean/drive/actively participate and have a conversation out of bed does that still make me a suitable mother?
**If I cannot shower/shave my legs/clip my toenails/wear makeup/ "DO" my hair etc....am I still beautiful?
**If I cannot reciprocate others generosity, if I cannot pay back/step up/help out/hang out does that mean I do not deserve their generosity?  
**If I cannot "DO" and work and earn income does that mean that I do not deserve to have my home, my material possessions, my safe place? And if that is true then does that mean that by default I circle back to the unfit mother category because I cannot provide by "DO-ing" for my child?
**Will my significant other leave me/love me less/find me less desirable/respect me less because I have absolutely nothing to give right now? I cannot "DO" anything for them. Would I stay if it was the other way around? 
**Is this happening because I have been ungrateful, irresponsible, ungracious, unfaithful? Have I been greedy? Do I have/consume/ want more then what I deserve and now the Universe has to take it away so I recognize it? Have I been judgmental and irritated by those around me who are not "DO-ers"? Have I myself not been "DO-ing" enough?

This list was scary friends.... and long..... and dark.....and ugly and marinated in fear and the other unwanted house guests I write about...yeah...they were all there.......keeping me company while I couldn't be outDOing them. Outrunning them. Outworking them. I was finally their hostage and we were going to hash some shit out about what makes Danielle.....well......Danielle. 

What makes me worthy of love,care and respect? What entitles me to safety and security and the basic feelings of acceptance and purpose? What is my responsibility to my family and those I have agreed to be responsible for? What purpose do I serve in their lives if I cannot "DO"?
As usual, you can see how one list of questions spirals into another list of questions, and down the rabbit hole I go. What is a habitual "DO-er" to "DO"? 

And the answer seemed to be a simple ....quiet......"LIVE". 

Become a "LIVE-er", and fill whatever hours I could with things that told me I didn't need to be "DO-ing" anything to be worthy of being a "LIVE-er".
I listened to allot of YouTube Wayne Dyer........I read allot of Marianne Williamson and Brene Brown. I looked to allot of guided meditation from The Honest Guys and Deepak Chopra to try and learn how to just sit........ to just be........ to just breathe......and simply exist as a "LIVE-er". To know that because I was alive, I was worth being taken care of, because I was living I had a right and a chance to be a "LIVE-er". 

And the shit was hard......me and the unwanted house guests of fear and shame and guilt and self-pitty.....we had some screaming matches.....we had some knock down drag out days. And the Universe and I????.......sheeesh......we had LOTS to hash out!!! Because when you take "DO-ing" away form a "DO-er" the mess gets big, and the coping mechanisms get small. 

As I sit hear and type this I recognize that my experience in the grand scheme of physical trauma is relatively minimal. But I also need to own it and say that just because it might not seem like that big of a deal to some, it freaking rocked my world and kicked my ass waaaaaaay off balance. 

I have spent my whole life "DO-ing", my whole identity was based upon what I could/can "DO". How well I could perform, how hard I could work, how much I could create....blaaaah blaaaah blaaaah........

So I laid there in my bed and had multiple come to "haysoos" meetings with the Universe and it loved me until I could kind of....sort of....wrap my small brain around this really "BIG" idea that Danielle just being a "LIVE-er" is enough. 

It is enough because the people that said they loved me....they still did. The friends that always told me they would help me......they still did. The man that told me he would always find me beautiful and amazing......he still did. The family that rallied around me after all my failed attempts and "DO-ing"...... all my mistakes......all my bossy and tenacious ramblings over the years......they all showed up again to help me piece it back together. 

ALL of this happened in the midst of me not being able to "DO" anything. 

I didn't have to earn/cook/clean/drive/perform/live up to some kind of expectation/work/demand/insist/plead/manipulate/plan/give up/give in for any of it. I just was a small.... breathing.... tired...... in pain "LIVE-er" and they STILL came to my rescue.......and as I write that out, as I let that sink in...... I am absolutely overcome with the kind of gratitude that can only be prompted by truly seeing the Universe in action....for me.....yet again........
Mind....Freaking..........Blown.........

So while I was laying in bed, trying to teach myself one more time with Deepak Chopra, and Brene Brown and Marianne Williamson and The Honest guys and Wayne Dyer how to just "LIVE"........the real "LIVE-ers" were "DO-ing" for me what I could not "DO" for myself. 
Making me feel loved, and valued and worthy enough to be/have/think/dream/see whatever I needed to while the Universe and I argued about whatever we needed to. 

And maybe that is the lesson, I get to be Danielle, with all my faults, and errors and craziness and love and passion and "DO-ing" but I only get to "DO" that if I take the time to be with the "LIVE-ing". If I slow down and know that when I tell people in my life they are important and they say the same to me then that's the deal........it's really that simple........we don't have to "DO" anything to earn it or keep it, it just IS...because LOVE is the what the "LIVE-ing" do while the "DO-ers" are planning to make more time for it. 

Thank you to each and every one of the "LIVE-ers" in my life for helping me through this unpredictable gift called living.

A special thanks to my constant "LIVE-ers" Mckinlay and Forrest, you could have smothered me and you didn't.......you encouraged me instead and because of that I am inspired to "LIVE" with you both more.

One Love,
Danielle

Letters in the Middle

Hello Friends,

It has been to long since I have written a post on this little ol' blog of mine. I sat down tonight to carve out some time to do an activity that brings me joy and it occurred to me that I needed to share it with all of you. 
For YEARS, my Grandmas have been writing me letters. Holiday cards, little I love you notes, clippings of articles they find and think I need to see. Some letters are long, others are short post-it notes attached to something they think I would enjoy reading or learning about, but always handwritten and always mailed. Through the good old United States Postal Service. You know...that place that usually only sends bills or unwanted catalogs?! My grandmothers have continued to utilize this amazing system to send things to me my whole life. 

When I was 18 and living in London I got my first real taste of how much a letter can touch a person. I was young, in a foreign country and completely alone. Didn't know a single soul....not a one! The letters I received while living there were one of my greatest joys. I would anxiously wait for the lady of the house I was staying in to get "the post" and hope there would be something for me from someone back home. When I was homesick I would read them over and over again. Back then, email wasn't as common and calling was outrageously expensive. I would walk to a pay phone every Sunday and call home using a calling card that never seemed to have enough minutes on it. More often then not the call would consist of my requests for someone to "send me......_______....(insert desired object). Looking back now I am pretty sure that my requests were for American cigarettes......HA! (which now I know is illegal to send...but whatever....I was 18.....and maintaining a nicotine addiction is hard when you're a poor college student.)
Judge all you want...but a hand written note and a smuggled in pack of Camel Lights made this girls week back then. Who am I kidding?? It would STILL make my week!

Fast forward through the years and life went on, it got different, but the Grandma letters kept coming. 
I am ashamed to admit that there were years where I didn't respond. There were years where I never wrote back, or would just say a quick "got your letter, Thanks", when on the phone with one of the Grandmas. They never gave up, they never stopped, they just continued to write. Thank God they did. 

A little over a year ago I started to make it a point to write back to them when I would get a letter in the mail. I would find a card I had laying around, or some scratch paper and just jot a little "update" and put it in the mail. Then something amazing happened. Writing those letters became the very best part of some of my days. I would get some tea and instead of trying to find some movie to watch or something to clean, or write another million mile long to-do list I would sit on my couch, in silence and write to one of them. I would tell them a funny story about something that happened that day, or ask them a question about cooking something, or maybe just write about the weather. Point is, it didn't matter what I wrote, it just felt so so good to connect with them for a minute. 

Now, people always say, "You actually write them?? Why don't you just email them, or call them?" The simple answer is that I HATE the phone, and emails have been ruined by so many years of work so the act of writing a letter fills me with joy and doesn't feel like a chore at all. It never feels like I am checking off a task that I need to get done, or finally getting around to "handling" something.....it just feels like I am talking to them, and telling them all the things that I THINK about telling them but for years thought I never had the time to. Or that I would remember to tell them next time I talked to them. Hell, I can't even remember my own name some days....how am I going to remember to ask one of them how you successfully sew on a button, or save a plant, or not take out some kid who is making your kid's life hard?? (Grandmas always have the best answers to such questions by the way.) 

I fell in love with my writing letter time so much that I began to slowly expand my "letters list". This 10-30 minute time at night where I drag out all my stationary and pens and stamps and stickers (because I am a nerd like that and stamps and stickers make me as happy as a 5 year old) and write has become a sort of relaxing meditation of sorts for me. My handwriting is atrocious and half the time I probably make zero sense, but when I am done and I look at my little stack of letters that I get to mail out the next day my heart gets really really BIG, and I say a little Thank You to the Universe that I have these amazing people to write to. These little letters let me do something that for a long time I had convinced myself I was already doing but really probably wasn't. 
They allow me to let the people who have touched my life KNOW they have made a difference. They give me a tool to tell those people that even if I go months without "talking" to them, I DO think about them, I DO care about them and I DO love and want to know how they are. It takes 10 minutes, and I go to bed knowing that I took action on those thoughts, I did my part and took time to make time for them....and it takes a little bit of paper and a 49 cent stamp. You may think it's ridiculous but it blows my mind with gratitude every time!

After a couple months of being hooked on writing letters I was looking for some stationary online and came across an organization dedicated to bringing back the lost art of letter writing. Through them I now have a pen-pal in Texas and one in New York. I am learning and connecting with two amazing human beings who I would have probably never met and finding out more and more through every letter that we really are all the same. We just want connection to our fellows. We just want to know that people are good, and lovable and kind. It is like Christmas every time I go to check the mail and find a letter waiting for me. My Texas pen-pal is learning to dance with their spouse, and it is a hilarious nightmare! My New York pen-pal is trying to navigate through life after the loss of his mother whom he cared for the last 20 years. I am satisfying my undying need for "adventure" by hearing about theirs. It's the coolest thing ever! (and so much more fun then my last pen-pal in 2nd grade who was some silly boy in Missouri who only ever wrote about kick-ball)

I have reconnected with friends in a way I never thought possible and I have a whole box of letters in my room that are an instant source of love and gratitude anytime I need it. It is one of my biggest joys in this thing called the middle.

If you haven't written a letter in awhile do it.....it's good for your brain and it's good for your soul. It has reminded me that life is not what I see on TV or Facebook or Instagram....it's about human beings maintaining connection through the simplest of acts, no matter the distance that separates them. I don't know about you guys, but anything that helps me maintain my connection to humanity and only takes 10-30 minutes is worth doing every chance I get.

Now go and write your Grandma......or your best friend....or even someone you live with a letter...(I write my daughter a letter almost every week....and act all surprised when it shows up in our mail box like.."OOOOH you got a letter!!!" and I wink at her and she smiles and shakes her head but then tacks it up on her pin board in her room where the special things go)....Just write someone a letter it will make their day!
And if you can't think of anyone to write...write to me....I would love to write back!



One Love
Danielle

"Freedom" in the Middle

Hello Friends,

I am sitting here enjoying my 10th cup of morning coffee and it dawned on me that it is fitting that 4th of July is my first day off  after a whirlwind of non-stop work. I have been working on "freedom" since January and today marks a huge milestone in that whole project. 

In January I left my career of 14 years to go find freedom. Freedom from corporate, freedom from middle management, freedom to have the time to do more of what I love. Freedom to be happy. So I sit here and smile that our nations independence day falls on a personal "independence" day of my very own. The universe has a sense of humor for sure.

As I was reflecting on this little coincidence, it dawned on me that for myself and many others I know, it would appear that the chase of freedom is the project of life. I have been working towards freedom ever since I have been breathing. Freedom to make my own choices and grow out of childhood. Freedom to make bad decisions. Freedom from addictions. Freedom to slow down. Freedom to grow. Freedom to make ends meet in the middle. 

Sometimes I feel like that is all I do....chase freedom. 
Malcolm X is attributed to saying "No one can give you freedom". I love that. I find that to be true more and more as the days pass. I have never met anyone that wrapped freedom up with a bow and gave it to me. Freedom for me has come through work...lots and lots of work and time. It's come through making decisions, good and bad.  

Today I am grateful that I can pursue work that I love since I have affordable freedom in obtaining health insurance for my daughter. I am grateful that today I woke up and am healthy and don't have to take a drink to stop the shakes or stick a needle in my arm to get out of bed. Today I am grateful that through chasing freedom I have made a ton of mistakes and have been allowed to walk through the consequences of those. I am grateful for the freedom to share these things with my fellow humans and not feel shame and guilt. 

Today, on Independence day let us show one another some freedom. 

Freedom to say what we think and not be chastised. Freedom to love who we want. Freedom to be ridiculous. Freedom to dance and sing and create chaos. 
Give yourself freedom. Freedom to take a break. Freedom to do something different. Freedom to make a decision. Freedom to go explore.

I wish all of you that kind of freedom. Freedom from your head, freedom to follow your heart. Freedom to make mistakes and keep going. Freedom to love and be loved. Freedom to let people and things go. True freedom...the kind of freedom that "no one can give you".

One Love,
Danielle

A "Process" in the Middle

Hello Friends,

I have been sitting on this blog post for awhile. Partly because I didn't know how to write it. Partly because I didn't know if I wanted to. Partly because I didn't know if what had happened to me was real. And fear....... there is always fear. 

These days (because I'm so old now that apparently I have a set of days that are "back there" and are not anything like today's days).......These days social media is used as a major tool. Personally I use it to grow my business, to have convenient communication and as an avenue to connect with my fellow human beings. 
But what about the things that I want to communicate that are private? What about the stories that I need to tell, that I think are worth telling but have other peoples stories in them too? 
How do I do that and give hope to as many people as possible without turning my blog into some weird confessional? No one wants to read that.....I don't want to write that.
I don't have the answer, except for to be authentic and if I feel like an experience is worth sharing because it will provide light amidst darkness then I have a responsibility to do so. 
So here I am...writing.....again.......

I recently ended a relationship and it was ugly. It wasn't the kind where people know it's coming and they go to eat and split the check and say their courteous "wish you well," and "thanks for the good times"....then get in their respective cars drive away...... cry all the way home........ eat everything that contains sugar that is in their house.......
Well....at least that's how I do it........usually. 
This one wasn't like that. There wasn't enough sugar in the world to make it taste OK.

Nope, this one was yukky, and scary and dramatic and painful. This was an ending that put the whole damn plan into the incinerator and the only solution was to figure out a different damn plan, cause this one....this one was outta here. 
There was no re-directing, altering, rearranging. It was finished..... it was over.....it sucked. It had lies and addiction and broken promises and all that gross stuff that will come along from time to time. 

I was heartbroken and I started this "process" called grief.
I don't know about you guys...... but if it is anything to do with something that is titled a "process" I don't want it. 

I want a starting point and an ending point and I want them clear and direct and preferably with pink bows and streamers. 
And arrows...can we get some arrows up in this bitch so I don't have to navigate much......I'm directionally challenged so that shit would help me out big time! 

In short, I want stuff MY way. I want things done by MY "process", where we all smile and high-five and figure the moves out quick and keep making progress. I don't want these days of "process", days of marinating in emotions, days that swing from desperation to anger to just flat out depressed. You can take your "process" and do you know what with it as long as it is not throwing it over here at me. 

Tell me "it's all a process"....I fucking dare you. 

I hear about people and grief, and how they do it gracefully and with dignity and with composure and I know that's not me. 
My "processes" are like me, a freaking tornado who believes that by bringing a whirlwind through everything that somehow when I stop it will all look put back together again. 
That chaos on top of chaos will negate each other into harmony. So I push and push and pull and stomp and grab and twirl around trying to find my footing again. 

I know it's what I am doing.......... I know that I am out of control.......and I know it is because I have come face to face with the fact that I have no control......and that's hard for a control freak.
We don't like that....it's makes us angry...it makes us panic.

But I know this today, about myself and about days of being stuck in the middle. That awareness is all that it takes to make me grateful some of the time.  

So I have this ending, and I don't know where the new beginning is. I just know that I am so angry, all the time. And sad, and scared.

I am walking in the woods one day and I have this feeling like the whole experience has crushed a part of me that I will never be able to get back. I feel like there is a part of my character..... of my being......my essence........ that has been killed and will never be replaced. 
Then I get more angry that a person/place/thing could have that much power over me. That one human being could do that much damage. Amidst this emotional swamp something else happens.
I start a whole other "process" of acceptance. 

I decide on this walk after talking to the universe (which looks like I am some weird lady talking to herself in the middle of trees...because well...that's how the universe and I do it)
I decide that if this is truly what has happened to me that I will accept it. I will own it. I will admit my part, and I will live with it. I will grieve for that piece of me that is gone. If I am to live without it, if it is truly gone...... then I will. 
I will keep showing up, and it won't be pretty and it won't always be kind but if that's what is required I will push through. I will keep going.

I ask the universe for help. 
I ask to forgive this person. 
I ask to forgive myself for a bad decision. 
I ask to have my sadness removed. 
I ask for help to show up for my life. 

And the help comes. It comes by giving me days where I can't move, and days where I can't stop moving. 
Most days I immediately do what I always do.... which is turn to busyness so I can't feel. I don't have time for that whole feeling thing. 

In the middle of this junk show called a "process" I come out of the other side with 7 jobs.....that's right....7. Five freelance clients, a "normal" W2 job and my business which is growing. Those are just the ones that make money so I can do the really important ones like be a mom and run a house. Did I mention I am also trying to finish a BA I started forever ago in my "free-time" to?
That is what a "process" looks like for me. 
I will live by working myself to death. 
I resign to that fact, I accept it, I just keep going.

But you know what is amazing? That the universe loves me (us) so much that I can do all of that to not go through a "process" and it still has me go through it anyway.
I do everything I can to avoid or dismiss it but it still happens. 

Have I mentioned that I love Marianne Williamson?? Some people ask What Would Jesus Do.......I ask what would Marianne Williamson do......(I think it's along the same lines). 
Marianne would say LOVE. Love because it is the only truth. Love because it is the only solution. Love because it is the only way out. LOVE is the middle....Learning to LOVE is the "process"

I want Marianne Williamson to say "You know what you need to do Danielle?? You need to find this person/place/situation...kick in the door, have a shot of Jack Daniel's, kick it's ass and then light up a cigarette and just stand there watching it bleed everywhere"....because yes....I do wish my life was a Tarantino movie some days.

But that is not what she says. And what do you do when you are in a "process" that is so dark and yukky and gross and fueled by anger that you don't know how to love? 

I asked.....all the time....100 times some days...."Please help me love, Please help me believe that resentment does nothing but poison me. Please show me how to forgive. Please help me." 

Marianne Williamson talks about miracles and she says that a miracle is nothing but a change in thinking.
I ask to think about this experience differently.

She says that a change in perception from hate to love can do what humans cannot. It can repair what we can't fix, it can make the impossible possible. 
I believe her, but in those moments it's not happening. 
I am in the middle of a "process" and I see no way out. I see no love.  

Then, without my permission, in the most unexpected way I get my miracle. 

And this is the part that I don't know how to write about, but it needs to be told. This is the part that proves to every fiber in my being that I am not alone, wandering aimlessly. But rather I am moving forward even when it feels like I am on a sled backwards. 

I am out shopping with my favorite person. I try very hard not to suck others into my times of misery but this day I cave, and in a very sarcastic way I tell her something that I figured out about this person who put me into this God forsaken "process" 

Her response is my miracle. 

Without a single millisecond of hesitation she looks right at me and says "Oh WOW! That is so great that is happening, I really think that will help them allot. Maybe they will be able to get better and be happy."

Holy shit....REALLY??? that was the gut response?..that just happened???

My attempt to continue the misery has just hit steel. 
I have just encountered the Batman (or girl in this case) of light and love. 
I have ZERO response to this. 
I have no logical thought that could disagree with her. 
What is more amazing is that I don't even want to. 

What kind of person would I be if I turned and said "Yeah, well I think that's crap.....they shouldn't have that...they should suffer because I am"????
Even with this feeling that part of my kindness has been taken I still can't believe I am THAT kind of heartless creature. That is not who Danielle is. That is not why I was put here, and I realize at a speed that cannot be measured in time that if I am NOT that person then why I am I living like it? Just because a part of me has been taken away, a deep hurt inflicted, I don't have the right to waste days going around being an asshole. 

She is 100% right. 

It is a great thing that is happening to this person. A great thing for everyone else in this persons life as well. People that they are responsible for, that they love, that they promised to protect and care for are being given just that. 

I am speechless. 
I have this wave of calm come over me and it gets really, really clear. 
I don't feel angry at all anymore, I have compassion and empathy. When I think about this person and visualize their face I don't get mad, I become grateful and happy for them........and this happens in fucking seconds.....weeks and weeks of debilitating anger and fear are completely removed, it just vanishes. 

I start to think that the whole problem, the whole time, my block to love, my block to light was the fact that I was stuck squarely in the middle of MYself. It was ALL about me. It was ALL about my hurt, and my pain and MY"process". 
What is even more exciting and amazing is that the part of me that I thought was taken is instantly back. 
I don't WANT to feel kindness for this person. I DO feel kindness for this person. 

I don't need a relationship with them, I don't need to know what/how they are doing but I do know that the humanity in me genuinely cares about the humanity in them.....and for me, that's all I really ever need inside of me to make a decent life. The humanness in me acknowledging and honoring the humanness in another. 

If you take away all the ways I try to hide my need to feel that connection, the 7 jobs, the incessant cleaning, the planning of plans, the designs I construct to avoid it...... that very thing....that LOVE that "process" saves me. 
The ability for a human to hurt me and yet still give love, because I know that is just part of the "process"....that was my miracle. I can know something for a long time.....but for me....it doesn't stick until I feel it.  

I need to share that because I know there are those out there who are "process" haters like me. So often I hear or read things and people have these miraculous transformations where something just clicks and they have their change in perception, they have their mind set back to truth and love..... they have their miracle....... and I think...
WOW!......"that shit happens to allot of people".......
"I wonder what yoga pose they do to get there!"
OR....
"I wonder how many years they have been meditating".....
OR.....
"I bet they have that whole spiritual thing going on and can hear the good voice in their head instead of the crazy one I hear."

I read about people who are more advanced then me because I want that. I study choices in others so I can try and navigate my own. I read. I talk to the universe and try and stay quiet so things can settle. I get discouraged because instead of allowing room for growth I compare my "process" to others. I get stuck in this place where I don't think I will ever grow out of a bad habit, or stop participating in something that does not serve the higher good. I know I am not alone here....I know there are those of you who have this conversation to. 
Why do people like Oprah and Marianne Williamson become famous??....because they make the process shit look easy! I am here to tell you, now that I know it to be true, from my own personal experience that it does not have to be pretty to work. It can be a traveling circus of junk shows and it will still happen...and it will still be just as amazing and beautiful.  

This is what I know to be truth today, because it happened to me, because it was real......the ONLY requirement for receiving your miracle of right-mindedness is to show up and know that while it may not be happening to you it does in fact exist.....somewhere.....
maybe on a random Wednesday.....
maybe during a normal errand you have done a thousand times......
maybe it will come from a cashier, the radio, a billboard...
or maybe it will come from your own personal Batgirl...... 

I don't know. Chances are though, it will happen in the middle....the middle of a "process"

One Love,
Danielle