Let's just eliminate all the bullshit, shall we?

Friday, December 10, 2010

Little Things

In keeping with the idea of looking to the positive,
I have turned my typical year-end remembrance of
past hurts to a more 'glass-half-full' attempt in order
to accentuate positives and attempt gratitude.

What passes for a success in my world is, to say the
least, a laugh riot for others. Nonetheless, I have to
make the most of what is available to me. Despite this
being one of the most difficult years of loss in my life,
I have weathered the storm better than I could have

I'll take all the pluses I can get.

In this year, I have....
* gotten and maintained 3 part time jobs as long as
* gotten a multitude of one-shot jobs to stay afloat
* found innovative ways to keep electric and rent
* withstood loss of faith, friends, and acquaintances
* suffered losses of death in an already shrunken
   pool of friends
* survived the worst of my depression that I've endured
* stayed out of jail
* stayed alive
* stayed as healthy as is possible
* refrained from hurting others as often as possible
* did my best to sustain relationships and heal hurts
* got out of bed, dressed, and interacted FAR more times
   than I ever felt capable of doing so
* kept on dreaming and working towards putting my ideas
forth in the world
These things are meaningful to me, and that's all that matters.
We have to learn to be our own best and sole source of
support, especially during these emotional times. If you look
at the whole picture, it can be overwhelming. You just have
to break it down and take it a step at a time--one simple, easy
moment at a time, doing the best you know how.

Lots didn't work out, but I survived where others didn't.
R.I.P. Jamie, Thomas, Little Mann, Keith, and Lucy.

In the grand scheme, nothing that I have set out to do has
worked or lasted. I can let that make me feel like a failure,
or I can focus on what has worked out.

I have reconnected with old friends and made new ones
on my journey to bring inspiration to others. Outreach is
a beautiful thing. If I look back on all the blessings I have
experienced as a result of my van--a very 'simple' thing
I can do from where I am in the middle of nowhere, with
no money and little help, I am reminded that good things
come from 'nothing' too, if we are willing to raise our voices
and try.

I have been gifted this year with:

* The wild and delightful kids in Bainbridge that talked
with me in a parking lot and went for pizza.

* The young man at a Harvey's who spoke with me at
length about small town life.

* The residents at the nursing home who shared their
stories and gratitude.

* The young woman at Publix in Tallahassee who waited
for me to shake my hand and thank me (MUCH appreciated!)

* The man seeking gas to get to his dad's funeral, who,
although disagreeing, had the courage to talk to me and
respect me.

* The welder hitching to Panama City who really needed
someone to see him and hear his story.

* Visits with folks who were also suffering from depression
and also feeling alone in the world (Hi Margaret!)

* My special library community of Misfit Toys. Nothing
draws people together better than cohesiveness against a
common enemy.

* The super lady from the thrift shop who donated paints
for my project, and my friend Ebony for the flag postcard
donations for the van.

* The ladies at the Wal-Mart parking lot who were so
moved to have someone speaking up that they were barely
able to speak.

* All the honks, waves, and smiles from so many people
who have seen and appreciated the messages.

* My guardian angels who have helped to keep my babies fed
and treated.

* The people who have listened to me when I needed to talk.
This is perhaps the most valuable thing we can do; to be
responsive and compassionate to someone in pain.

* Possibility. No matter how bleak things seem, no matter what
temporary (or seemingly permanent) funk we have fallen under,
we must always know that circumstance can change in any
moment, and, that, until they do, we can find ways of thriving.

It takes all kinds of courage to make it in this world. Just
getting up and facing the music is enough to ask of many of us.
Don't despair because you don't measure up to someone
else's notion of success. Each of us has a job to do. Stand
strong, my fellow soldiers, and hold the line right where you
are. Each of us has our own light to shine.

We have to believe there is magic. Sometimes it's a matter
of letting it be where we never thought to look. This year, I cling
to the little things. When they're all you have, they start to look
pretty damned good.

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