It's Her.

I have been thinking of her lately. It is not that I want to think of her or enjoy thinking of her. She just keeps entering my mind and streaks across my thoughts throughout the day. Every time she appears, my smile fades.

I remember when I met her. It was at her house. She was casually folding clothes on her blue sofa in the den. She was sitting next to someone that would be in my life for the next couple years. Her attitude was cavalier and concerned me. It was possible that she would be in my future for a long time, attitude and all. Did I really want this? Would it improve in time?

Later, I would realize that the attitude would only get worse. She had never heard of that saying about throwing rocks at glass houses. And she didn't throw rocks either, she heaved boulders. I learned quickly that her most hurtful assaults would be privately to my face or publicly veiled in kindness.

It went on for years. I tried to thicken my nerve sheaths without losing my heart's kindness. Eventually, I began to expect the stony material to appear flying towards me. My reflexes went on high alert in her presence. I knew I needed to stay away, but that opportunity had not availed itself until....

Finally, the nail was hit on the head, the stars aligned, a door opened, fate intervened and the BM hit the fan. I could finally walk away.

When I think about it now, I think I sprinted. I didn't look back. I just kept moving forward creating positive kinetic energy as I healed from the damage she caused. I knew everything would eventually be okay. I knew the the scars would become my shield of strength when needed and I could forgive her for the unkindness.

I was surprised yesterday when my mind's door opened and she was standing there. I have seen her current picture recently and know that time has affected her. But in my thoughts, she looked the same. It was as if this selection of my memory was frozen to years before. Still, I smiled. Because with just a blink, I thought of something joyful and she was gone. And I smiled and was happy again.

Stay sweet 'n smile............................Mz.

Pulled

I am being pulled in many directions. So many opportunities and only one me. It reminds me of many struggles I have had with liking too many things and not settling on one. Can a person really be too diversified?

I find it fascinating that as much as I love diversity and variety in my life, I can be so adamant and rigid about little things. A good example is wall art. If I decorate a wall, it must be symmetrical on each side of the imaginary middle line my brain places on the wall. If there is a sconce on the right side, believe me, a sconce will be on the left too. But, if it is a small place like the shelves of my bookcase, symmetry does not prevail. I just have to like the item for it to win a viewable spot.

Crazy as it sounds, it is my normal. I have been trying to figure out why I am like this. Why does my brain have all of these crazy little rules that bring a preference into my life like a mild OCD. I believe there are many possibilities that led to this way of existence.

In regards to wall art, I think Home Interior was a negative influence. My mother held Home Interior parties at our house while I was growing up. I was quite involved and enjoyed the whole process of hosting a party. I was even given my own book to make my own purchases via my mother's credit card. I loved watching the hostess show off the displays. She said time and time again about balancing the items on the wall. If you added a mirror on one side of the picture, you should balance it out with a mirror on the other side. As a adult, I see the sales technique in that pitch. As a child, I did not and thought it was just a pretty display. I still love Home Interior. Their displays are just as beautiful today as when I was little, but only if they are symmetrical in my mind.

The second major influence in decorating a wall arises in my mathematical/engineering thought process. I believe my mind uses algebra constantly. If x+3=4, then x=1. Both sides of the equal sign must be balanced with the same amount. If 4 is on one side, 4 will be on the other. If there are one small picture and candle on this side, there should be one small picture on the other. Again, my mind has that imaginary middle line/equal sign on every wall I look at. Cursed by algebra, I say.

My best friend says it is just my personal taste, but I still believe I have been influenced. What I have seen from my DNA, I come from a wherever family. That leads to one conclusion. Somewhere in my universe, nature tainted me. So now I must fight nature and my own mental influence to remain open to ideas beyond me and the boundaries I have created.

I am still being pulled. So many things I want to do, but only so much time to do them. I need to figure out what will best inspire me and propel my inner growth. Save the world my heart screams. Save yourself my mind yells back. Guess I am back to making a list of the pros and cons and praying for enlightenment. I need to find which brings balance to my life. Both sides of me....my heart and my mind....need it. See, even in my own being, I am symmetrical. Maybe it is homeostasis that is at blame. Yeah, that is it.

New plan. Fault homestasis, save the cheerleader and choose the path that brings me the greatest joy. Sounds good to me. You?

Stay sweet 'n smile............................Mz.

Spring Fever has landed!

I seriously have spring fever. I want to plant and clean and barbeque. Call me crazy, but the warm sunshine has put some pep in my little side step. Even if it rains Saturday, I am going to "get my grill on"!

Are you coming?

Stay sweet 'n smile............................Mz.

Tick Tock....Tick Tock

I hear it. Every day it becomes louder and clearer. The ticking is tocking and I can no longer ignore it. The alarm clock in my life is sounding off. It is time. Time to begin to manifest the dreams of my legacy.

Lucky for me, I have good people around me with helping hands. Some of them are ready to begin the building of the foundation of what will come. Others will offer their skills later on specific points. Together, we have the opportunity the make the difference that each of us desires.

I am excited to see the faces this weekend as the brainstorming begins. My dream.....their dream.....our dream will begin. It may start with a prayer, but will end with a plan of action.

I still hear it. Tick Tock....Tick Tock.....This internal clock is still reminding me. This is very important. There are many people who will benefit from our dedication. If we do it right, it will affect people for generations. I hope at least seven. Just like in my culture.... In every deliberation, we must consider the impact of our decisions on the next seven generations. That is how serious this is.

And soon, I will be too busy to listen to the ticking clock. I will be trying to keep up with the ball that is rolling! Yeah!

Stay sweet 'n smile............................Mz.

I need to....

It's been awhile again. I love to write, but for whatever reason I have been putting it off. I don't even know why. As I sit hear and think, I wonder what negative thought or feeling could be causing me to not do something I love.

All the typical reasons run through my brain. It's not time. I can and will make time to do the things I enjoy. I'm not scared of writing online either. I've done it for so long that my blog house feels safe and comfortable. I write down the thoughts and memories in my head and understand that it is just my experience and perspective. Inside, I just keep feeling forced to sit and share. But yet, I am here and trying to do it yet again. It is kind of like riding a bicycle.

I clearly remember my first bike. I was so happy when my grandfather gifted me with my first two-wheeled bike. It was terra-cotta orange with a big brown banana seat. I was four and on cloud nine. Although I hated birthdays due to everyone staring at me (another story), I loved presents. My grandfather knew this and was so kind to bring that bike over when only my mother was there. To all the other girls on the block, it was a color nightmare. But to me, it was perfect for a Cleveland Brown's fan. The cowboy and American Indian decals were an added symbolic bonus. It represented both my grandparents in a quiet way that made me smile to myself.

My bike created a new feeling in me. Having your own transportation is so empowering, even for a four year old. It brought me a taste of independence. My blue big wheel had been wonderful for getting around as a 2 and 3 year old, but the limitations of the driveway left me feeling caged like a wild beast. As powerful as the big wheel was, I was still left pacing up and down the driving just like an animal does at the zoo. I just wanted to go farther and faster. I want to be like the other big kids and cruise down the sidewalk. I yearned to ride down the long path that looked like it went on forever. I could feel the sidewalk tease me too as it cut across the driveway. It was so close and seemed so easy to pedal my way on that road, but my mother's rules kept me bound.

The new bike brought new rules. I was allowed to cruise the sidewalk in front of my house, but I was forced to have training wheels added. At that point, I didn't care. Just whip them on and let's go was all I wanted to do.

I learned the hard way that riding a bike takes some practice. I don't know learning to balance and multi-task on a bike was such an important part of riding a two-wheeled bike. Trust me, it is and you need to learn it quick. Practice included many falls ans would include some scrapes and bruises. It looks easy enough when the other kids rode by on their bikes. But for some like me,it was a big challenge and at times a little bloody. But still, I rode. I graduated up the bike path to a teen-speed with hand brakes and many gears. That independence took me to new distances across my city and with many friends. At one point, the neighbor joined in the journeys.

I rode a bicycle until I was 17. After getting my license and becoming an official driver of the family Honda, my bike was moved to the back of the garage. Eventually, the fabulous ten-speed of my teens became a yard sale special. Every once in a while, the opportunity to ride again would come and I would do it willingly. As I got older, getting back on the bike got harder and less fun. Falls could now lead to broken bones and medical bills. Riding became a risk and risks can be scary.

It only takes one memory for me to get back on a bicycle. It is remembering that sensation of the wind blowing across my face and in my hair. That very moment when you stretch out your arms, hold your face to the sun and smile is so peaceful and free to me. Yeah, I may wobble at first as I adjust my balance, but soon my skill takes over as my confidence builds. Then like before, I am riding.

Writing again feels like that. I don't know the risks I fear, but I remember the wonderful feeling it brought me as I wrote. I remember the independence I felt as I liberated each story upon the world. As for my skills, they never went anywhere. I may wobble at first, but as long as I keep writing, my skills will grow. I will continue to overcome boundaries like just that four year old me did long ago.

Stay sweet 'n smile............................Mz.