Thursday, February 21, 2019

Every Version

My journey and progressive acceptance this season...


There are so many different versions of self, and just like most parts of the human brain, most of those versions are difficult to channel. I’m getting a handle on knowing and exposing my familiar versions. But lately, my biggest challenge is allowing them to surface at the right times, in the right places, around the right people.

The human capability of loving/caring is so incredibly large. So much larger than we could even fathom… I think... and the whole of it is only achieved by the workings of several different parts. At least that’s what I’m beginning to realize within my own world.

I’ve spent the past month moving from situation to situation, state to state, city to city, family, to friend, to animals, to self, and back again, and each and every one of these people, places, and things… needed a different version of me. Some needed everything I had every minute of the day, some needed me temporarily. With others, I forced my love upon, with the belief that I knew they needed it. For the most part, it was true, they did. But, so did I. Then, there were those that pulled out versions of me I hadn’t been familiarized with yet, which caused some internal struggles that I had to tackle and settle during the quiet hours of each early morning.

I’m a perfectionist. My desires to be great, and serve greatly, have always been strong. I’ve always had to work through them carefully. As a kid in school, if instructed to write a paper in pen, and use only one line to cross out mistakes, that wasn’t clean enough for me. I would write, and rewrite, and even rewrite again if I made a mistake… until my paper-my story-my masterpiece was completely clear of flaws. There was ONLY ONE VERSION IT COULD BE-PERFECT. As I grew, this pressure I allowed myself to take on day to day broke me down, until imperfection was something I embraced. I witnessed it in my family, and my life, and it needed to be something that I wouldn't allow to make or break a situation. Now, when I don’t quite understand something, I’m okay with showing ignorance and asking for enlightenment. When I make a mistake, I accept I am not perfect, and I chug right along. When I’m feeling things I can’t quite explain to myself, I allow them to completely take me over, then I diligently sit in them until I can work through them… until I can grow. However, I am still human. I still work on impulse, fake it ‘til I make it, project feelings, guilt, and confusion. It’s part of the process of life, which is why…

...knowing the versions of yourself, and when to channel them, is SO important. In my case, for example...

I have a version that services those who have experienced more life than I have. I try to stay young, innovative, teaching as much as I can about life as I know it, while asking what it is about the “now” that doesn’t serve as well as the “then.” I listen, understand, and try to transport myself to where they are. I completely detach from myself, and place myself into the realm they’re in. This is for their benefit alone.

I have another that services who and what I’m trying “drink up” within my own life, for my own benefit, in all shapes and forms. I have some older ladies in my neighborhood who are just full of love and gratitude, no matter their circumstances or losses. They are inspiring. I need more of that positivity in my life. I have a friend who hustles hard, with no apologies, no excuses, is a larger than life character, and inspires me push myself into uncomfortable evaluations to find what it is I’m REALLY looking for. So magnetic. I crave this for my present, and my future. I also have a childhood friend that is able to remind me of the freedom and pureness we once had as kids, and the fact it’s still in there-in she and me. She is strong, and genuine. I need this to get through the struggles of adulthood.

There is a version that pops out when I eat shitty food, find a new wrinkle from scowling, become aware of a loved one’s health issue, and that one… goes full force into respecting and loving the body-regardless of our surroundings and temptations. No excuses.

There is a version of me I give to those craving acceptance. It’s the MOST accepting, non judgmental, open version of me I can give.

There’s the work Les too, who just honestly gives zero F’s until the tasks are done, and done well.

There’s also the vacation Les, which… doesn’t have tasks, and doesn’t want them, and will shut a mfer down if they try to give them to me. *sets the schedule for auto response e-mail for vacation dates right now while I'm thinking of it*

Among these, there are more, and each and every one is a piece of the whole. However, not all are necessary to expose at once, and often get in each other’s way. The one that loves the body, sometimes cannot be hangin' out with the one that is the most accepting. The one trying to experience more of someone, or something, for my own benefit, could never be true to the one who is working to understand and selflessly be with someone who has experienced a completely different world. Aaaaaand, we all know how well the vacation and work versions get along… they don’t.

You cannot pressure yourself to be all that you, and everyone else needs, all at once, but, you can learn how to divide and conquer. There is a time and place for everything, and every YOU.

I have so much to give to the world, and to myself, that I truly feel I’ll explode if I don’t offer it all up. In order to serve that urge properly, I have to be patient, and definite with each known version of me, and each outside need. I also have to forgive and grow with the versions I’m currently getting to know as well, but the most important point, and piece of advice for me (and you, if you gather, or can use any of this nonsense I get off my chest here)...

Allow yourself to achieve what you need to achieve, by being which version of you you need to be, when you need to be it.

Sometimes, it’s not as selfish as it feels. Growth should never be malicious, and personal progress should never be supplied by someone else. Allow room for every angle of yourself, so you can be well rounded, well understood, and confident in your journey.

Always thinking it over, never over-thinking…

Les

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Friday, December 14, 2018

Being a Wife is Really FKING HARD

I'm watching my words transfer here to you through the eyes of last night's tears, and I'm completely okay with that. In fact, I'm thankful for it. I'm really, really thankful for it.

I would like to encourage those of you who are wifed up, and especially those of you WANTING to be wifed up... Stop feeding "perfect marriage/relationship" bullshit to yourself, your significant, and those you share your life with. With wisdom comes wrinkles, and if you're shooting Botox into your conflict muscles, you're completely missing the point of progress.

My husband and I went through our first heated discussion in a long time last night, and although I experienced shame, doubt, sadness and anger throughout those 20-30 minutes, I was blessed with growth, vulnerability, relief and partnership when I awoke this morning. 

The most important workings of it all...

I EMBRACED EVERY EMOTION
I EXPRESSED EVERY OPINION
I ACKNOWLEDGED THAT IT WAS HAPPENING
I ALLOWED IT TO HAPPEN
AND I CHOSE TO GROW

The very sad fact about society today, is that so many of you feel as if these moments are dysfunctions... a sign of weakness, and may bear such weight on your relationship that it becomes impossible to stand tall together. The thing is, they AREN'T dysfunctions. These moments are more functional than most, as they are your chance to choose love, to choose communication, self evaluation, and the bettering of life together as a unit.

I have walked hand in hand with a few of my friends on this subject lately, and the point I worked to drive is this:

Being a wife can be really fking hard, OK? 
-You do not float through this cloud of bliss every moment
-He will slip on the compliments you think you deserve each day
-He will get tired of your expectations
-Your insecurities are not hot, and he will not pacify them
-He speaks a completely different language than you do, and neither should be ALL CAPS
-You do not receive perfect opportunities to talk things out as if guided by some in-house specialist with each disagreement
-He is imperfect
-YOU are imperfect

What you DO get-if you're doing it right-is occasional Rock-Em Sock-Em Robot moments that encourage you to do your very best without your heads popping off, and opportunities to swallow your pride before you speak. These things make you stronger. They encourage growth on the other side, and if you act as if these things do not exist, you're cheating yourself, and your life together.

I look forward to these moments with my husband. Not the pure definition of conflict, but more-so the process of progress. It's easy to find little victories in the routines, the vacations, and the insta posts, but it's HARD to wife up during the defeats, the slip ups, the daily stresses, and the realness of life without filters.

Choosing to be a wife means making a promise to go beyond making their coffee, and discussing goals over that coffee with them... opening the sleepy eyes and thanking your lucky stars you've got a partner to share this warmth with. It means with a ring comes HIS (or her) promise too, to love, respect and understand your strengths and weaknesses, not build, or solve them for you. Choosing to be a wife is choosing to be one half of a whole that isn't always the stronger part, but should always try to be. It's dirty, it can be tiring, it bends you in ways yoga can't, and if you think it's about the dress, the title, the ring, the ownership and the hydrant to pee on...

YOU AIN'T READY, HONEY.

Last night's tears brought me a cleaner, clearer vision this morning... of the tolerance my partner in life truly has... regardless of my sh*t eating smirks and stank a$$ attitude at times. He gets that these 8+ years have brought several versions of us, each one slightly bigger, badder, and better. 

He gets that marriage is showing all-but playing the right cards, and being a wife...

IS REALLY FKING HARD.

Loving without rose colored glasses,
Les
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Tuesday, September 4, 2018

The Teachings of Pain

"Remember me as all things wild."

Adam Scott Fulford
1989-2018

Image may contain: 1 person, smiling, closeup
_______________________________________________________



This is not for me.

This is for the pieces of my heart scattered throughout the states, spaces, times, and faces that shared Adam...
...his blessings and his trials...
...his beauty and his beast.


______________________________________


I've been avoiding this. For months before the news of this loss, I'd been contemplating plugging into this outlet to release written energy so unlike this kind. I don't like the energy of losing a loved one, no one does. However, this is what I'm known to do. This is my way of presence. This is how I friend. What I know is words, and so...

...I've set the pain aside to write this... for us to hold hands through the teachings of it... and lift him to flight TOGETHER.

These are things I've learned thus far,
and the things I wished I knew
This is for the strength in US...

...and for the heart in you.

______________


To my dearest family, friends who are family, friends who made the family, the family trying to make it through:

As I'm writing this, the leaves outside my window are floating and falling against a strangely confused sky, sometimes blue, sometimes blah. I'm reminded that it's a change of season, and if there is anything this season preaches, it's that the leaves will show us how beautiful it can be to let things go.

The night I got the news, I experienced a very constructive shift. It came with remembering the loss of my mother. The association made me feel selfish. The paralleling of the two circumstances made me feel hateful toward addiction in a way that strangled my happiest memories of him, and of her. The city they shared during their last days got some really creative descriptions of my disgust for it, and as I put on the shoes of his love, his family, his daughter, and all of those he left to live on without him, I broke into a million pieces. Then, I came to. On the other end of the line was the shared silence of a long time friend, a mutual tie, the oxymoron of an unspoken cacophony of memories with Adam, and how they were made. Suddenly, it wasn't about the loss. It was about the life lived before it. The memories of bus stops, and sleepovers... secrets and surprising additions to this world... vulnerability that opened us all up as a tightly knit group to the ability to love one another without borders... to feel each other from afar... a childhood that shaped us... a life lived up to this point that could not have been lived as it was... without him. I learned how to shift from the pain to the presence.

It was a call that I knew was as hard for her to make, as it was for me to take. We both agreed that the role we must play now, is one that serves as a foundation for everyone to hold strong. We change with those we love, and we learn from those we lost.

We must remember something as beating hearts still able to breathe:

These are the teachings of pain.

We would never, could never, shouldn't ever ask for these types of teachings, but they are inevitable, and no matter how deep they can cut, they're meant to sculpt. Just like the feathers on the wings of this angel, we all need to stick together in order to fly. 

It's not fair, and it's not in the scheme of things, but it is his story-one that we all have the ability to read over and over, and with the last page... know that we can start again. 

Thank God for good teeth and a bright, wide smile. 
Thank God for his illustration through the eyes of his child.
Thank God for his wings, and his light through the rain,
but most of all, thank God for the ceasing of his pain. 

Throw the rocks, rip to shreds, 
Scream so loud your face turns red. 

When you feel it, you can lift it, and it can't weigh you down...
It's worked through with the muscles you need for the frown. 
But when you find a pause, when you're reaching your wit's end, 
remember you're still alive, and allow your heart to mend.
  

Loving you without borders,
Les



To be of assistance to Adam's greatest treasures, and their well-being, please visit...
Anything helps. Thank you. ❤

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Wednesday, November 16, 2016

It's a good day to take a day.

It's a good day to take a day.

There seems to be something speaking to me lately. The bubble has sort of popped, and there's a new air surrounding my soul. 

This morning, the bedroom window pulled a different shade of light to my right. The space between myself and the sun was so magnetic it was hard for me not to stare... not to take a moment... not to take it in... to take a day. 

What's going for me? What am I going for? 
Where the hell AM I?

My first awakened breath was filled with pain today. I was sick, I was tired, I was (so prophetically said) sick, and tired.

I rolled over to my person... wrapped in a robe and still warm from a shower... and I whispered without strength, "I just can't do it today."

It was a much more stuffed statement than it sounded, I promise you. It was meaty, it was meaningful-seasoned with solemn, and swallowed like a nervous habit. I had realized that I had worn myself down. Aside from the physical ailments, I had finally hit a point of exhaustion that I couldn't return from, and whatever, or whoever was speaking to me to just TAKE A DAMN MINUTE was being heard loudly, and clearly.

So.

Here I am. Taking a day.


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Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Our Very Own Operating System

Her. 
A movement, a motion, a movie... a motivation.

Weekends are an ever-changing world for me lately. I used to be littered with to-do lists, events, heart pounding deadlines, and sheer exhaustion. I've since slowed it down a bit... giving my little lungs a chance to relax, along with my mind, body, and soul. 

Sometimes those three days are fun filled, sometimes they're a whipped up couch, comfort food, cuddle concoction. 

May 30th-June 1st was one of these three-part recipes. The end result... food for thought. 

I began this month with a movie. It was called, "Her.Joaquin PhoenixScarlett Johansson and Amy Adams lit up the screen with a not-so-far-away reality on a futuristic set. But that wasn't the only thing they shed light upon. The three of them came together to relay a message that has been on the tip of our technological tongues... one that everyone is so hesitant to let slip. 

We're losing our, "togetherness."

The love story that is highlighted within this plot is one that lies between a man and his operating system. His ever-changing, ever-evolving operating system. She has a voice, a personality, but no body... no soul. The struggle with the desire to truly touch one another is excruciating for both the characters and the audience. The love they share they feel is real, but it is intangible, so... is it truly REAL?

In the day and age of cell phones, tablets, dating sites, advice columns, have-it-done-for-yourself (as opposed to do-it-yourself) resources, communication without having to speak to, see, or interact with one another... falling in love with the face of a screen... whispering sweet nothings that sound like the clicking of the keyboard... far enough away to reveal ourselves, without having to actually reveal ourselves... we're losing it. We're losing the 5 senses of this world, of love, of life.

Repeat after me:
"We're losing our togetherness."

In this futuristic flick, the soul of this man is poured into his writing, much like mine... but his writing is not a collection of words he can call his own. Instead, his heart is poured into the letters of others... letters he has written to their loved ones, along side a staff of hundreds of word masters meeting requests of those who couldn't find the time, or the words for themselves. Complete with the creation of the "sender's" handwriting, written by, stamped, sealed and delivered by a complete stranger.

Think about this.

We're all obviously in full awareness of the slow death of the Pony Express (USPS). Who writes letters anymore? We can text without calling, we can e-mail without responding, we can avoid interaction to gain satisfaction exerting a fraction of the effort into the action (or inaction) that goes into the transaction. 

It's quite sad, really. 

Where is our touch? Where is our feel? Where is the sight and audible beauty that was once shared amongst each other in our day to day lives? A city as large as New York, NY can involve the passing of hundreds of thousands of people per minute... the majority of which are busy sending and receiving a digital message, as opposed to enjoying the noise of the true communication between one another.

Look at this still shot in one of the scenes of, "Her."


Look familiar?

Ahhhhh... the, "selfie" shot, the face time, the self satisfaction that comes with the far away shot and illusion of "time" spent with one another. 

That's what this is, my friends... 2 hours of (brilliant cinematographic) face time. An entire love story, beginning to ultimate demise... through face time. Although there is a true development of a relationship and merge of personality, truth, passion... there is no touch. No eye contact. No way to memorize the perfect imperfections of a loved one's face. 

Sure, it's a bit exaggerated, but for some people... it takes years to meet the person they've fallen in love with through a dating site. It's easier to be heard than to be seen. 

THIS is what we're coming to.

I took a little walk with my guy upon the closing of this movie. I was sure to hold his hand. I watched his face as he told me how he felt about this movie... how it changed him... as it did me. I was thankful for his expressions... for his smile... for his tangible presence.

Remember how precious this is, my friends. Human interaction is the heart and soul of the good in this world. It's what truly feeds our hearts. Go SEE your friends. Take your lunch break WITH your partner. Don't just call. Drop your resume off... get face to face. It's scary, sure, but it's REAL. It's twice the impact you may have on any one person as opposed to shooting a text or an e-mail as an easy way out. 

Put a FACE to your name.

Don't settle for, "Her."

Love,
Les.



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Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Off on a Tremendous Tangent

Been a while! Yep, I know. Feels like a lifetime.

Wanna hear about it? Here it goes.

Absence:

Four months.

Four life altering, mind molding, character building, heart breaking, love making months.

Presence:

A forward journey.

A life altering, mind molding, character building, heart breaking, love making forward journey.


There was a point during this absence in which I thought for sure I had gone off on some sort of mad hatter ride. One that was leading to a place so unknown it was frightening. I was buried in work, out of my mind exhausted, pushing through heart ache, tossed around by a shake up of success (I know, woe is me...), but experiencing a loss I was convinced I would never recover from... That of myself.

It is possible, you know... To actually catch yourself from falling... To become aware of your current state so clearly, that you're able to take the steps necessary to be like a flower and turn your face toward the sun. You CAN save yourself from a cold dark face plant. It's totally possible.

I've done it.

Here's the gig:

I took a little bike ride. And although it was through streets of poppies and puppies, it took turns in flow with my thoughts. They got a little wobbly, and got me a little lost, but pushed me further forward than I was the turn before. That work I was buried in began to turn with the pumped up tires and became the momentum I needed to keep moving. The exhaustion that had debilitated me before hit a second wind... And it was blowing though my hair cooling my noggin and pinking my cheeks. The heart ache got lost in the heart pound and sweat, and fell from my brow to my smile, down my neck, then dissipated. I was reintroduced to that sweet success as I dismounted the bike, and there I was... Found again.

I've been on car rides that seemed to last for days... And the thoughts that I was able to process during that time were plenty... But progressive? Few.

Nothing compares to the simple pleasure of a bike ride. It's life in motion.

There had been so many changes in the past four months of my life it got hard to keep up. But, I feel I've become more of a woman in these short four months than I have my entire lifetime. It was a turning point... Where two paths of my life-that of which I walked the days before, and that of which I was taking my first steps upon-met. A tangent. A tremendous tangent.

I met at two points... And instead of getting lost at the intersection... I took the turning point in a straight and strengthened line.

That's all it took... A bike ride, a face to face with choice and happiness, and a TANGENT. It's a labor of love that I'm sure I'll come across again... And I could have made it way more complex than this short and simple solution... No need.

Just a few fruits of that simple labor:
A new, BEAUTIFUL, therapeutic city high rise
A new, BEAUTIFUL, routine with the pup, my rock and a warm place. (WOMAN'S best friend)
Career build
Second business plan
Reigniting of  that good-good friendship vibe with some beautiful souls
A new found love, commitment, faith, and confidence within thine.own.soul.


Les-1
Bent out of shape- 0

Welcome back, Myrtle. Way to be, you wordy woman... Way to be. THERE she is, there she was, here she'll stay.

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Sunday, October 13, 2013

A Recipe For Renewal

Wheeeeeeee!!!! It's fall harvest time at the farmers market....
Of COURSE this means undeniable jaw dropping colors and fresh smells that tease your taste buds as they permeate the crisp, cool air. It also means FALL... One of my favorite seasons... And this year, it happens to be a very a moving, progressive, trying season. 

I've recently had the pleasure of both anxiety and accomplishment accompanying my life quite frequently. They hold hands through my present like best buds as they skip their way around all aspects of my life... Truly complimenting each other in a surprisingly constructive manner.

{hardship, like happiness, is what you make of it}

It's a lot like how tang meets earth on the palate. Tang and citrus can break a dish, but it is balanced by the calm undertones of an earthy flavor. When the two meet and partner within the heart of a dish, ingredients are brought together in sweet harmony and the dish tends to let off a warm, comforting glow.

Anxiety (our theoretical "tang") can be so consuming it's hard to focus on anything but the relinquishment of it. So you fight, or you refuse (a, "no thank you helping" as my grandmother would call it), or you learn, and you grow. When choosing to pair that anxiety with hard work and accomplishment (our earth element), we hit a state of equilibrium. The anxiety fades just enough to keep us aware, yet GROUNDED... In harmony. Without that bitter tang behind the need to pull through hardship, that warm, comforting collaboration wouldn't be possible, and we would lose out on some of that wholesomeness of life.

{you rarely arrive anywhere worth while by accident}

You must have a spirit lead courage that transforms anxiety into a will and drive to go and do. Harmonize your bounty of life with the right balance of awareness, not fear... courage, not clash. 

Got some financial tang? Add some earth by making due more with what you've got... Rather than stretching your means for what you'd rather.

Got the relationship tang blues? Trust in the ultimate plan... Trust in your heart. If it's not fulfilling you, or adding to the wholesomeness of your love life, add some earth by finding and focusing on yourself, regrouping, then starting again. 
Tang all over your job? Polish that earthy up by considering your employment as a means to an end... Allowing the possibility of feeding and clothing a loving family within a loving home. Or, take it back to the starting line and reconsider your career choice. It's perfectly possible to merge passion with profession... Rooting into doing what you love. TRUST ME. I'm the poster child. 

Just... Remember to find beauty in the breakdown. Through the hustle and bustle and tang of daily life, notice those colors down the breezy aisles of the market... Plan heart warming hearty meals that reach deep down into your soul, not your pocket. Know that seasons of stress are temporary, and if followed by the grounded drive to grow, you'll be gifted with the harmony that is hardship to happiness... Tang lassoed by earth... Balance.

{good n plenty}

OH, and... Enjoy this recipe... It's sorta the inspiration for this bit of mind work.
 Farmers market fantastic!

Cilantro Lime Red Cabbage Stir Fry over Quinoa 

1 cup prepared Quinoa
2 tbsp vegetable oil
1/2 head of red cabbage (sliced thin)
1 green bell pepper (sliced thin)
1 green onion bulb (sliced thin)
1/2 tsp pepper
1 tsp salt
3/4 cup fresh cilantro (chopped)
1 tbsp lime juice (fresh is best)

-Heat vegetable oil over medium high heat
-Add cabbage, onion, and bell pepper
-Sauté until tender, but not mushy (about 8-10 minutes)
-Add salt, pepper, cilantro and lime juice
-Sauté until cilantro is wilted
-Serve warm over Quinoa



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