Freedom of Voice

I've been feeling a little uninspired and worn down these days--mentally, not necessarily physically. So much to do, so much to fret about, all the craziness and sadness in the world too much for this empath to bear. It's my thing: I have a hard time separating others' feelings and energy from my own. I allow myself to be drained. It's the thing I most need to change. Not to say I want to give up being empathetic. I believe that's one of my most valuable strengths and what draws people to me. And, being there for others physically and emotionally is important to me. But, what about saving some of that compassion for myself? That was what was on my mind last Friday as I drove home from an after-work appointment. It was still on my mind Saturday morning as I drove home from Publix. And, on cue, one of my all-time favorite tunes, "These Are Days" by 10,000 Maniacs came on, bringing me to inexplicable tears, the words stripping away the hard candy shell pr...

I've been struggling all weekend about the topic of my blog. I had a great thing about Florida storms being the perfect metaphor for life brewing in my head as I drove home silently right into a monster storm Friday. Then, I got distracted by a song Saturday morning--These Are the Days by 10,000 Maniacs--on my way home from Publix and thought, I'll write about that. But the words didn't come. Sometimes I hesitate to write because I don't want others to say I'm wrong. Sometimes I don't write because I don't want to wrong others in the process of telling my truth. So, right or wrong, I'm holding back this week. Some day,  I will write my whole truth, but today is not the right day.

I am the queen of the Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda's. I should have worked out. I should drink more water. I shouldn't have eaten that pizza (wings, burger, fries, and so on). I should clean my house. I shouldn't have let myself gain so much weight. I would have gotten my Master's degree a long time ago if only I had had the funds and the time. I would have been a better parent if only I could go back in time. I would have had more fun when I was young if I didn't have to hold a full-time job. I would have responded differently to... I could have avoided so much stress if I had just... I could have been... I could be a better person if I only... Today, I should be working out, cleaning my house, and finishing up a couple of projects for work. Today, I would have gotten up earlier to get these things done if I weren't so lazy. Today, I could be getting a lot accomplished if I would just get off my butt. Instead, I let myself sleep in (or rather, m...

How? How is it my “babies” are 21 and 23, both bonafide, legal adults? It happened in a flash. I was never in a hurry for them to grow up, but I never begged time to slow down either. I just tried to  enjoy—or survive—each stage, knowing it was fleeting. And now, on my youngest’s 21st birthday, I am enjoying this day, perhaps a little too much enjoyment when the clock struck midnight last night. I’m impressed (and so are the others with me) that I’m not feeling any ill effects. I know this time is fleeting, and in a flash, we will be celebrating other milestones like marriages and grandkids. But for now, I’ll resist the temptation to flash forward. I’ll live right here, right now.

In the 1970's, Kellogg's rolled out its "Let Go My Eggo" commercials, and they persist today. Of course, they have changed quite a bit. The battles have become more snarky, and in this commercial , the struggle even gets high tech when a family in a smart phone battle over an Eggo has it snagged by the little sister without a phone. True confession: I have always hated these commercials. I know they were intended to be light-hearted and humorous, but they aggravated me. Why didn't these people just share  the Eggos? Couldn't they just wait for another one to toast? Maybe there was an Eggo shortage in their homes, and that was the last one? And, if so, couldn't they cut it in half? The martyr in me would have selflessly sacrificed the Eggo to whomever wanted it but then would secretly resent them for it. After all,  I was the one waiting patiently by the toaster for the crispy disc to pop up. The unfairness of the scenario was too much to bear. Man, tha...