I care

I told you how your hurt me, baby
But you don't care
Now I'm crying and deserted, baby
But you don't care
Ain't nobody tell this is love
But you're immune to all my pain
I need you to tell me this is love
You don't care if that's okay

Well, I care
I know you don't care too much
But I still care, la la la la
Oh, I care
I know you don't care too much
But I still care, la la la la

Ever since you knew your power
You made my cry
And now every time our love goes sour
You won't sympathize
You see these tears falling down to my ears
I swear you like when I'm in pain

I try to tell you all my fears
You still don't care? That's okay

Well, I care
I know you don't care too much
But I still care, la la la la
Oh, I care
I know you don't care too much
But I still care, la la la la

Boy, maybe if you care enough
I wouldn't have to care so much
What happened to our trust?
Now you just given up
You used to be so in love
Now you don't care no more

Well, I care
I know you don't care too much
But I still care, la la la la
Oh, I care
I know you don't care too much
But I still care, la la la la

What if...

Jazia Pratt, 8, fills a bucket with water from a fire hydrant in the afternoon summer heat Monday, July 18, 2011, in Philadelphia.
  (AP Photo/Matt Rourke)

The joys of being a child.  The wonderment of the world that seems to be lost the taller we grow, and the higher our age may be.  The unquenchable sense of possibility, that anything is attainable.  That is, of course, until you suddenly realize the world is not what you thought, and maybe the fairy tales we are read are not actually going to happen. I can think back to a time where I had that ability to see through walls, or so I thought.  If something didn't work, you could fix it.  If you couldn't fix it yourself, you would ask Mom or Dad to look at it.  Chances were, by nightfall the world would be settling for slumber and all was right again with whatever needed fixed. 

At what point did we lose this quality of life we so closely held when we were young? At what point did we look at the world, and wonder why rather than why not? When did we realize that falling was painful, and failure seemed like another action for falling?

My friend Niki has a quote as part of her email signature that reads "What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?"  Each time I receive an email from her, I read this, and ponder all the what if's.  And in reading this quote several times over the past few months, I came to the realization that falling down is the same as failure to me.  I do anything I can to avoid falling.  I am careful where I walk to avoid falling in front of others. I wear shoes appropriate for my job to avoid slipping on the concrete epoxy floors.  Gone are the days I would wear heels to work due to this; instead I have opted for more sensible flats or tennis shoes to ensure I am upright at all times.  Most recently, and most difficult of all, I have avoided falling in like, much less in love, with someone due to the pain of failure.  I have protected my heart as I have protected myself from a physical fall.  I simply avoid the fall at any cost.

What if there was no fear of failure.  What if I was aware of what the future had to offer.  Would I sit back, allow events to unfold as they should, knowing I would be okay, or I would get hurt? Would I allow myself to feel the world is a beautiful place if I knew this time it was going to last, or this time things will work out, regardless of whatever "this time" was revolved around?  Would I allow myself to walk into the face of apparent danger due to understanding in the end I would be okay?

I miss that free spirit of being a child.  I miss that feeling of laughing uncontrollably at something silly.  I miss that view of the world where anything was possible, and I could be anyone I wanted.  While I certainly do not feel I am a failure in my own life, there are many things I would like to repeat to correct my mistakes, moments I would like to avoid, and situations I would love to repeat due to the joy it brought me.  I would love to roam around the world, blissfully and gracefully unaware of any wrong that may come to me.  But in the end, the pain I have gone through has lead me to other journeys I may otherwise avoided.  As adults, we have not lost that joy of being a child, we simply forgot how to celebrate the smallest of moments and embrace the world with open arms.

Perspective

Perspective.  It is all in how you see things, how you view the world around you.  Perspective comes from experience, from moments in your life that either break you or make you stronger.  It comes from the observations that, to an outsider, seem the smallest of detail.  Or it could be quite the opposite; a life-altering experience that rocks the foundation upon which you stand.

The best way to simulate or understand perspective is to view the world from a higher level.  Sitting in an airplane where you see large cities suddenly dwarfed, the ailments of traffic and problems seem distant, and you are reminded just how insignificant some of life's biggest worries truly are.  Looking down, you become amazed at the intricate design of the world - the fields so neatly aligned into perfect squares, the web of roads with the dimmest of lights from cars, the interesting planning of housing communities.  The view of land you would normally never see with mountains, rivers, lakes, all there for you to appreciate in a moment you may never have again.  Perspective suddenly takes form into realizing and analyzing where you are in the skies above verses where that land is beneath you, and what you can see when so far removed from the daily struggles you may face.

In life, we are prone to be unable to fully understand or grasp perspective.  Perspective, like hind sight, is 20/20.  You only recognize this wonderment, this true expanse of your world after going through what feels like trial after trial. Perspective is that small instant that we see all for what it is, regardless of emotion.  We are finally out of the fog, and into the light.  We are able to see things as they are rather than what we would like, or what we would hope.

365 Days

It is amazing the events that can unfold within the span of 365 days.  Seasons change, people are both entering the world into new lives and exiting the world when their time expires.  Jobs may change, locations of where you may live, friends you were once close with are now distant, and new friends come into your life and help you move forward.  Interests, desires, challenges, and dreams may all be vastly different within this time frame, each moment we experience shaping our thoughts.

If you were to ask me 365 days ago where I thought I would be today, my answer would not have been anything close to where I actually am.  Ignorance is sometimes bliss, but experience can sometimes bring more tears than you expected.  I was excited about the future, excited to see where the road was taking me, and willing to try a path I had not taken before.  I was open to different ideas, open to different experiences.  I was able to feel daring, feel spontaneous. I felt I was given a new chance at something great, and I was not going to let it pass me by.

Little did I know that regardless of my personal attempts, the 364 days that would follow be filled with absolute joy coupled with and followed by feeling I failed myself and those around me.  Feeling I was special, I was important, I was cared about quickly turned to feelings that I must be damaged; somehow there is something lacking within me to be where I am again.

So here is to you, 365.  I wish you brought more smiles to my face, than tears that escape from my eyes.  I wish you brought more moments to be shared instead of rehashing and remembering moments that occurred.  I wish the next 365 are better than the past few months have offered.

Marilyn and Baseball

M. Monroe & Angles outfielder Albie Pearson run onto the field at Chavez Ravine. June 1, 1962

It is no secret, my affection for Marilyn Monroe.  As young as 5th grade I started this affection.  I am not sure how or why it began, I only know it has not been a passing interest, but a lifelong passion.  Since I was a kid I have been collecting odds and ends of Marilyn items. The last house I lived in had a room dedicated to framed Marilyn images; Christmas ornaments, Marilyn Monroe wines, postage - I have it.

I am also very passionate about baseball.  This is a newer passion, I will admit.  I was always "that" girl - the one who was not interested in sports, and if I was it was usually basketball.  But that sport left a sour taste in my mouth, and we broke up.  Once we broke up, I started this beautiful relationship with baseball that has been frustrating, exciting, disappointing, exhilarating, and overall amazing.

Each day, I celebrate my Angels' 50th Anniversary with creating a collage of pictures based on events from that day, or the players who shaped the daily events.  While I love the sport, I am bad with remembering statistics, or events that happened that others may remember unless, of course, I saw them unravel before my eyes.  For me, it isn't about statistics, or who did what.  I agree, they are of great importance to the sport, but it isn't why I follow the teams I follow.  I follow them for the ability to enjoy watching a good game, feeling relaxed and enjoying a day with my family.  Each day I rummage through the Internet looking for images that are not only iconic, but also show current and former Angels players from all different time periods in an amazing light for their ability.  I have been able to learn more about this team, events that shaped an organization, and the men who helped shape it, from the Cowboy himself, Gene Autrey, all the way down to Mickey Mouse.

The image above is of Marilyn Monroe and Albie Pearson, an Angels player.  The image combines two of my loves.  The only thing missing would be my family.  In researching the image, though, I found some interesting information.  Not only is this image of Ms. Monroe, it is also an image of her last public appearance before she died in 1962. Strangely enough, this was also her 36th birthday.

"Albie Pearson, an outfielder with the Angels during their first six seasons, threw out a ceremonial first pitch. Pearson’s most memorable “photo op” had to be on June 1, 1962, when he and Marilyn Monroe stood at home plate together before an Angels-Yankees game to make a plea to fans for donations to the Muscular Dystrophy fund." (http://natpo.st/ifR1Cn)

Marilyn would be found at her home just a few months later, on August 5, 1962, dead, at the age of 36. Forty-nine years have passed since this moment; forty-nine years in which the world has changed so drastically it would be unrecognizable to her today.

She looks beautiful in her dress suite, her hat, heels.  Hair, perfectly coiffed, smiling from ear to ear.  The woman in this image looks happy, looks healthy, someone who has the world at her feet, just waiting to take it over. For all the conspiracy theories there are in the world, disputes about murder verses suicide, who she knew, and what she knew, the image says it all.  This is an moment of happiness caught within a lens, and shared for the world to see.  Albie looks happy to be escorting her as his head is tucked down, his joy not only captured but still felt today when you see his smile. What an amazing moment to still witness through the photograph.

It's a beautiful day

There are moments that truly define someone in many different ways.  Moments we are forever changed professionally, personally, spiritually...moments that alter how we view the world, and how the world views us.  In a world filled with each person experiencing their own miracles, pains, joys, and sorrows, there are unlimited possibilities for a beautiful day.

The ironic point, however, is that we all choose to focus on the hurdles rather than the possibilities.  We see that hurdle as a way of holding us back instead of a challenge waiting to be conquered.  Our minds immediately analyze the risks involved, the difficulties in what we may know verses what we are completely blinded by.  And to this, I fall short of seeing possibilities time and time again.  I seem to understand the hurdles, know how I may be able to overtake them, but don't have the strength or ability some days to want to accept them.  Sometimes it is easier to back away, go a different route, and hope for the best.

For most of my adult life, I have had to remain the strong person.  I have had to face challenges as if they were welcomed, smiling politely as I struggle to do what needs to be done.  I am no different from any other person, each facing our own difficulties in life.  I am not unique in this world when a struggle presents itself.  I am seen in two different lights; someone others may see as incredibly strong, having overcome many said challenges and obstacles to be where I am, while those who have heard my heart being vocalized in a rare moment of weakness, I am also someone who is seen as easily breakable.  There are no in-betweens, it appears.

Each day, I am faced with the decision to get out of bed.  Most mornings I willingly accept the decision to place both feet on the ground, start my day, and proclaim it to be beautiful.  Regardless of what may happen, I am making today a beautiful day.  But those mornings where I would rather hide from the world, agree that while it may have potential in being a beautiful day, I would prefer to remain within the safety of my own home.  It isn't that I dread the day, or what it may entail.  I enjoy my job, I enjoy most of the co-workers I see.  I don't necessarily have a horrible environment to walk into each day.  It is only that there are some days that seem overwhelming from the moment the alarm clock wakes me up, until I verify it is set before drifting asleep once again.  There are some days I don't feel like being strong; I am weary of being the single parent who must think of two others before making any decisions.  I am weary of having the responsibilities my life offers, weary of putting on the brave face I have had to wear for several months now while inside I feel something has truly vanished. 

I have become weak in fear of being weak.  Ironic how the fear of what we may become actually influences what we do become in the long run.  I want to have that feeling of waking up, feeling my purpose.  I want to wake up to feel I have something to offer the world.  I want to fall in love with someone who doesn't leave.  I want my children to be happy, to know they can accomplish anything.  I want to say "It's a beautiful day because I have all I need within my life at this very moment."  In attempting this, I am going to start looking at what it is that truly makes me happy, and what it is that is hurting me the most.  Logging this to not forget, I hope that a week from now, a month and a year from now I will look back and see someone who, once afraid of her own shadow, has walked toward the light of happiness and actually found it.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone

W. H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W.H. Auden wrote this poem that sums my current feelings about where I am, what I am doing. It was featured in the movie Four Weddings and a Funeral, during a scene in which a character has died, and the friends have gathered for the funeral.

When I watched this movie years ago I searched for a book containing this poem. I was so moved by how these words, simple enough, could evoke so much pain, so much mourning, so much of everything you always want to say, but don't have time to say it when your heart is broken.

It is amazing how words can mean so much to so many, and yet mean so little to others. It strikes me odd to have someone leave my life, never to return, and never to hear their voice, to smell their scent, or to be near their warmth. In losing someone close to you, you realize all the wonderful things about that person, and also all the frustrations that person may have caused. The only difference between when they were close, and now that they are away? You find yourself missing the little moments of cooking dinner together, going to the grocery store, driving to a chosen destination, seeing each other after time apart; even the frustration they may have created.

You miss this because you miss them...all of them...not just parts, or moments, or portions. There is no separation of pieces of them; parts you liked or could have done without. There is only the whole of them that is missed. Whether this be through breakup or through death, you would do anything to spend one last joyful moment with them, one last breath in their presence, one last anything to make you feel the way you had felt once upon a time, in a world of "when".

In many ways, the lose of a relationship is similar to death.  The only difference is the off-chance you may run into them, hear from them at moments that may be less than convenient for the healing your heart must do.  I have been unfortunate enough to feel the effects of both, understand how each brings such a unique tear in your heart; your life forever altered by this tear.  

This is how I feel. I miss everything. I miss the scent of his neck as we would hug, I miss the sound of his voice sounding excited, I miss his eyes smiling at me, I miss his body sitting next to mine...I miss him. So, the poem is for you, sweet lad who broke my heart. The poem that represents how I feel today...and how I may feel for a while. One day I hope to be on a different path, something other than desiring to just be in the same room with you,something other than being in love with a person who no longer shares my world, my thoughts, my life, and my heart.

20100611

Not Over You

"Not Over You"

Dreams, that's where I have to go
To see your beautiful - face anymore
I stare at a picture of you, and listen to the radio
Hope, hope there's a conversation
Where we both admit we had it good
But until then it's alienation, I know
That much is understood - and I realize

[Chorus]
If you ask me how I'm doing
I would say I'm doing just fine
I would lie and say that you're not on my mind
But I go out and I sit down at a table set for two
And finally I'm forced to face the truth,
No matter what I say I'm - not over you (not over you)

Damn, damn girl you do it well
And I thought you were innocent
Took this heart and put it through hell
But still you're magnificent
I'm a boomerang, doesn't matter how you throw me
I turn around and I'm back in the game
Even better than the old me
But I'm not even close without you

[Chorus]

And if I had the chance to renew
You know there isn't a thing I wouldn't do
I could get back on the right track
But only if you'd be convinced
So until then...

"How r u doin?"

It is funny how, in the midst of an emotional storm, we welcome the tiniest of distractions.  And, as long as this distraction does not in some way remind of the emotional storm, you are able to continue on the path to healing.  But it is a very thin line drawn in the sands of your heart should your heart be unable to distinguish between the pain of your storm, and the the ability to move on.  That thin line can place you right back at square one, back in the turmoil and upheaval that is overwhelming.  

I do not like square one.  If it could be removed, life would be so much easier.  All the progress one can make is instantly removed when crossing that line...and this is where I am right now.  Right back at square one.  That place where all the memories are again fresh in my mind, and my dreams are being held captive by these memories.  My desires are locked away, tightly under lock and key, and my pain is closer to the surface than it was a few days ago.  

What am I supposed to say when asked how I am doing? "I am hurting, trying to keep it together at work, but crying myself home in my car.  This whole situation has screwed me up so much that I am not sure how to trust another human, much less believe you actually give a damn as you ask me. I was doing great until you came in and swept me off my feet as you threw me off the cliff of emotions. Why was I not good enough? Why was it that I gave you my heart, and you took advantage of it?" 

Would it be better to give thanks for how I am feeling?  "Thanks for making me doubt all that is good, all that is healthy? Thanks for making me feel so undesirable as a person?  Thanks for taking a piece of my heart, using it as a toy for your own whims? Thanks for making me feel at any minute the rest of the world will fall apart?"

Would it be better to lie, as I am doing to the rest of the world when asked how I am? "Life is great, everything is coming together as I wanted it to, and I don't think of you at all.  I am feeling so happy with where things are, and thankful for all the beauty in my life."

The truth is that there is no easy way for me to answer that question without exposing my true feelings.  I can't shut off those emotions.  To the world, to those who do not know me, I probably seem like I am fine.  Inside, however, I feel my heart is shattered into a million pieces still.  To be over this would be better, but here I am again, square one... 

In the heart of hearts, when asked how I am doing, I would like to say "I'm great."  The longer I feel this pain, and share it, the more control someone else has over my own dreams. The methods in which I am coping may not be the best.  In my heart of hearts I would love to never allow you to know how broken I am, how much this has taken from me.  In my heart of hearts I would love to never allow you to know each day feels like my heart is breaking again as I wake up from dreaming that all that has occurred was just one horrible nightmare I have finally awoken from.  I guess once I am out of the emotional storm I will have finally woken up...and hope that when it happens I am able to never feel this way again.

Only

"Only"

I'm becoming less defined as days go by
Fading away
And well you might say
I'm losing focus
Kinda drifting into the abstract in terms of how I see myself

Sometimes I think I can see right through myself

Less concerned about fitting into the world
Your world that is
Cause it doesn't really matter anymore
No it doesn't really matter anymore
None of this really matters anymore

Yes I am alone but then again I always was
As far back as I can tell
I think maybe it's because
Because you were never really real to begin with
I just made you up to hurt myself

I just made you up to hurt myself, yeah
And I just made you up to hurt myself

And it worked.
Yes it did!

There is no you
There is only me

Well the tiniest little dot caught my eye and it turned out to be a scab
And I had this funny feeling like I just knew it's something bad
I just couldn't leave it alone, I kept picking at the scab
It was a doorway trying to seal itself shut
But I climbed through

Now I am somewhere I am not supposed to be, and I can see things I know I really shouldn't see
And now I know why, now, now, now I know why

Things aren't as pretty
On the inside

Be courageous in your actions

Deuteronomy 31:6
"Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the LORD your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you."

This has been a week of many changes within the company I work for.  We have had a transition of titles, transition of ownership, transition of how the business may ultimately be ran.  With so much change, one can become extremely anxious, worried about what the future may hold for them.  

Within this change, someone I admire greatly is exiting the company as the Chief Learning Officer. While I am unsure if this was a decision made due to the new acquisition of the company, or a decision made on his own accord, I am greatly sorry to see him leave.  It is not often you have someone in an executive position who is easy to approach, easy to speak with and share ideas.  It is not often you find someone in an executive position who is willing to ask questions of those within the departments they oversee for ideas, for cooperation, and to learn more about you as a singular individual rather than "That is Ruthe from IT..."  I would call this an example of being courageous in actions.

Often our actions lead a person to assume a certain level of character.  Others are able to judge who we are based on our actions, how we treat others, how we carry ourselves. Being courageous in actions is much more than someone rushing in to offer an opinion, or be seen simply to be seen by those who are considered important.  Being courageous in our actions often times is done in a very quiet manner, without regard of how others will view your actions.  It is not about being seen doing something great, or telling others about your wonderful contributions...it is about doing something that you feel within your heart to be the right decision or the right action.  

This world is cruel.  We have so many outside forces attempting to shift and hurl us from one side to the other.  We have those who instigate trouble between others, those that meddle when meddling is not needed.  We have those who simply do not care about the world around them, having becoming numb due to the negativity and pain that has occurred within their lives.  Some learn from an early age to stay quiet, stay in the background, let someone else speak up because it hurts when we are denied or have our own ideas unrecognized. 

There are a variety of actions to consider courageous.  Being someone who has a high regard for those within the military, and the efforts they make on a daily basis to attempt safety for millions they have never met before is clearly an act of courage.  Those who stand up for the rights of others, unwilling to waiver in their support is an act of courage.  Those that sit quietly, talking to and listening to a child talk about their dreams is an act of courage.  That simple letter you send to someone to tell them thank you, the email you send when learning about someone's exodus, or quietly telling someone they are doing a good job.  Those are acts of courage.  Those are the actions I hope to be remembered for, the simple things I do to make someone else happy within their own world, to feel appreciated, and feel important.

Baseball is more loyal than some people I know

Within the description area of my work IM, I list my priorities.  1. God, 2. Family, 3. Baseball.  My co-workers have joked with me that baseball should be moved to the #1 spot, having God shift to the #2 spot with my love of the game.  I am not great at statistics, but can tell you that I would rather be at a field than any place else in the world.  I am a contradiction with who makes me stop in my tracks (Lou Gehrig of the New York Yankees, in case you were wondering) verses who my teams are (Angels and Red Sox).  I have a deep reverence for those who came before...the variety of early gambling to negro league hypocrisy, the days where talent mattered more than the question of using a substance to help you perform. 

I told my friend Robbie today that I am always the happiest at a ball field.  It was in a wall posting on Facebook when I told him:

"I have decided that I am happiest when at a ball field...no joke...I could be in the worst mood, but put me in front of a green field, a bat, and a ball and all of a sudden I am a little kid being handed cotton candy in Disneyland!"

It is true, however.  This summer has been less than stellar.  I have been mending a broken heart, trying to determine what my day is now that my routine I once knew has been disrupted.  While the actual heart break occurred a few months back, it has been baseball that keeps me smiling.  There is something about watching the game that lets me know everything is going to be okay.  Win or lose, there is always a game tomorrow, another pitch to be made, another swing of the bat to hear crack, another commentary if watching on television that I will either like or dislike.  But it is always there for me.  

Baseball, while it is just a sport, has been more loyal than some of the people I know.  Definitely more loyal than the cause of my heartbreak, more loyal than some friends, more loyal than the sun shining in Phoenix in the summer...it has brought me from the depths of drudgery to among the living.  It has reminded me to always do my best, that even when things seem hopeless there is always that slim chance things will come out in a positive way. 

In a summer where I really wanted to stay under the covers, not let the world know my pain, and pretty much call in sick, baseball has been the saving grace.  This has been the best series personally for me, thus far.  I have attended amazing Spring Training games, attended Opening Day at Chase Field for the Diamondbacks, traveled to see my teams play in Anaheim against each other, witnessed more extra-inning games both on television and in person than ever before, watched a game from the Owner's Suite at Chase, saw Luis Gonzalez hit a home run in a softball game with the likes of Fred Lynn, Ernie Banks, Rollie Fingers, and Ricky Henderson, along with former teammates from the 2001 World Series team, Matt Williams and Mark Grace.  And tomorrow, I am lucky enough to attend the All-Star game.  All in all, baseball has been the reason for my smile, the reason I can engage in life due to the constant need to know the scores and standings. 

My baseball friends are some of the most loyal friends I have.  Regardless of the fact I happen to follow not just one team, but two, they are still there for me, congratulating me on the other team's win, as long as they are not playing against each other.  Then, let's face it, all bets are off.  We sit and talk about the bad calls, the terrible umpires, the other team's offense, our offense, our defense, what we are going to do about someone not hitting well, and how happy we are that another is out of his slump.  We have nicknames we call the players, we even nickname the other teams and their players.  And we do this out of pure love for something that never seems to let us down.  Yes, my teams may not be winning the pennant every year, but they are still out there, rain or shine, trying to do their best.

It reminds me of the scene from "Fever Pitch".  The characters are asking themselves why they even bother attending the games, following the team, putting themselves through the misery of another loss at the World Series...this was, of course, before 2004.  In fact, the movie had to be re-shot due to the boys winning the pennant that year.  

Troy: Why do we inflict this on ourselves?
Ben: Why? I'll tell you why, 'cause the Red Sox never let you down.
Troy: Huh?
Ben: That's right. I mean - why? Because they haven't won a World Series in a century or so? So what? They're here. Every April, they're here. At 1:05 or at 7:05, there is a game. And if it gets rained out, guess what? They make it up to you. Does anyone else in your life do that? The Red Sox don't get divorced. This is a real family. This is the family that's here for you.

I have never felt cheated or lied to from within the field walls of a stadium.  I have never had to walk away, feeling betrayed or dismayed.  I may be disappointed from a loss, but there is always that distant glimmer of hope that tomorrow will be better, and 9 times out of 10 it typically is.  I have never felt lonely while looking out at a field, regardless if it is pre-game, game, or post-game time.  Within those walls I feel safe.  Within those walls, I can be the person I am - sometimes loud and vivacious, and at other times pensive and in deep contemplation.  That green grass always offers promises, hopes, dreams, and above all, faith within something bigger than myself because it is a collective effort for victory.  It isn't just one person out there, trying to do their best, it is a group of people, everyone from the pitcher to the short stop, to the manager, to the dude passing out water or the fan who claps with joy that make up a victory.  I am never alone within that environment.  I am always surrounded by people who are there for a common goal - to enjoy a damn good game of baseball.  

Days Like This

It is funny how something as simple as the promise of a better day can make you feel uplifted.  That promise that today, we have this moment, and thankfully it will never pass our way again.  We may still experience the emotions of today, but as everything does, it too will fade away.

I long for days where I don't need to worry about someone interrupting me, where my house is always clean, and I don't have to really do much other than pick up after myself.  I long for days where I understand the actions of others, the intentions of their actions, and resolve within myself to move on.  I long for the moments where I can trust, not fearing of an eventual betrayal, or as the lyrics have it below - Judas' kiss. 

When it's not always raining, there'll be days like this
When there's no one complaining, there'll be days like this
When everything falls into place like the flick of a switch
Well my mama told me there'll be days like this

When you don't need to worry, there'll be days like this
When no one's in a hurry, there'll be days like this
When you don't get betrayed by that old Judas kiss
Oh my mama told me there'll be days like this

When you don't need an answer, there'll be days like this
When you don't meet a chancer, there'll be days like this
When all the parts of the puzzle start to look like they fit
Then I must remember there'll be days like this

When everyone is up front and they're not playing tricks
When you don't have no freeloaders out to get their kicks
When it's nobody's business the way that you wanna live
I just have to remember there'll be days like this

When no one steps on my dreams, there'll be days like this
When people understand what I mean, there'll be days like this
When you ring out the changes of how everything is
Well my mama told me there'll be days like this

Choose the Right

I was looking at my friend Trasi's status on Facebook last night, and became enamored with the simple statement she made.  "Today I chose church over studying. It feels good to CTR for no other reason than that."

So simple, so heartfelt, and so Trasi.  Choosing the right, regardless of what other forces may be presented to us, is not always an easy task.  It is sometimes easier to do the opposite because the opposite always seems to involve far less time, far less interaction.  Yet, as any shortcut proves, it is not as worth the reward at the end of the day as if we only chose to do a job well done than a half shot we sometimes would prefer to offer.

In a world that offers plenty of distractions, many different routes that provide options to do something we probably shouldn't, and always offers up many excuses for our actions, what does it look like to choose the right?  What does that mean in today's world?

Does that mean we forgo gossip when someone is willing to share it so easily?  Does that mean we must lock ourselves in our homes, not letting outside forces of the world to enter in? Does that mean we sacrifice what others would consider happiness for our own brand of happiness that we understand to be of a higher calling?

In choosing the right, we must determine what that means.  There are obvious 'rightness' we are all aware of based on morality and consequences that befall the opposite.  For example, we understand by the morals of the land, and consequences of others, killing someone is not right.  We also know that stealing is not right, harming others is not right, and so on. 

But what about when making a decision that does not favor us, but is better for all involved.  How easy is it to make a decision if someone else's life hangs in the balance, along with our own.  What if we are faced with making a decision that will be painful, but it is the right decision?  A decision where we must place as much prayer and thought into our actions to do the right thing as much as our intentions and reflections of our hearts. What does it mean when we are forced with a decision that effects others around us, and how their lives will forever change?  What about those decisions that alter your state of being, state of spirit, and state of purpose?  "For I cried out to him for help, praising him as I spoke." -Psalm 66:17. 

Choosing the right is much more than making sure you are following the law of the land, the law offered by religious practice, or by the mind set of men.  It is the ability to choose the right within our hearts, within our spirit, and within our soul.  If basing this off faith and that of a religious belief, we are not promised that in doing the right we will have instant happiness.  If that were true, everyone would always do what is right.  We are, however, promised blessings based on those tough decisions.  What seems like a decision we do not want to make at one moment in our life turns to be a decision we are able to look back on, and offer praise and thanksgiving for.  Choosing the right is not for the immediate needs or goals.  It is for the everlasting desires and dreams we all have.  The desire to have a happy life, the desire to be surrounded by joy, and the dream for those we love to also be surrounded with joy.

Congrats, Jeter

In the world of baseball, there are moments that redefine the game.  Moments that forever alter how we view a player, a team, and the sport itself.  It can happen in the blink of an eye, or over time.  But in either situation, as a fan, it can sometimes cause ultimate frustration, or ultimate joy.

Today marks an important day in the world of baseball.  For today, "Derek Jeter has become the 28th player in Major League Baseball history to get 3,000 hits, and the first to reach the milestone as a New York Yankee. The star shortstop joins Cal Ripken Jr. and Honus Wagner as the only three players at the position to reach 3,000. He is the sixth player in to accomplish the feat in 17 seasons or fewer (http://tiny.cc/2gmq4)."

That an amazing milestone for any player to reach.  As a baseball fan, I marvel at this accomplishment.  As a fan who also loathes anything Yankee related, it is bittersweet to watch this player reach such a lofty spot in a circle of very few.  This circle includes Mr. Jeter at 3,000, all the way up to Pete Rose at 4,256.  Mixed in between you will also find Carl "Yaz" Yastrzemski (3,419), Hank Aaron (3,771), and Ty Cobb (4,191).  Due to my loyalty to other teams, I am just happy this accomplishment happened on another team's clock and not that of my Angels or Red Sox players.  And from this day forward, we will be hearing about when he surpasses others before him.  It is likely he will surpass several before the end of the season, a fact I strongly am against due to who some of the other players are.

In all that is good within baseball, for all the loyalty I feel toward my teams, and the desire to not see the Yankees have another World Series ring bestowed upon their nicely paid fingers, I also feel the need to congratulate him on this.  While this is the ultimate test of character as a baseball fan, I also recognize that regardless of how I may feel about his employer, previous mishaps that left me scratching my head, and again, who is employer may be, I also recognize it is better to be that person who is bigger than that.  Sportsmanship does not always mean you will always get your way (hello, anyone hear about that 86 year drought the Red Sox had between World Series wins?); sportsmanship means you are able to rise above, offer congratulations where and when they are needed.  It means that, for the love of a great sport, you will acknowledge a job well done. 

And so, as a baseball fan, congratulations Derek Jeter.  May you always do your best, and may you always do your best while being honest in your abilities and efforts...

The tides within my heart

"So I grab my bags and go, as far away as I can go. Cause everything ain't what I used to know. And I try to hide, but I just can't hide no more. There's nothing worse than feeling like a ghost."

~ Bobby Simmons Jr., "Ghost in the Machine"

That feeling...that lonely terrible feeling where you feel like a ghost roaming within the shell of your own life...all the haunts of the past continuously gracing your presence to remind you that you are not over the pain...the moments as raw and fresh as if they had happened seconds ago instead of some longer undefined time....

Living like a ghost in my own life...that would be the perfect description of how I am doing.  I am becoming tired of these thoughts of regret, thoughts of things and people lost, thoughts of sadness and heartbreak...I sometimes feel my loss has been multiplied over and over by decisions made that were not what I wanted, but easier for him.  Those actions I took based on decisions that can never be erased, never changed, never brought back.  

In this, I feel I lost more than just a relationship.  I lost something within myself.  I no longer have the ability to feel sympathy or empathy for others.  It is not that I do not care; I am just so lost within my pain I don't seem to notice the world or those surrounding me.  Now, I am feeling more like a ghost than a person among the living.  I navigate through moments within my today, to moments in the past...dates that would only mean something if we were still together...the emotions I feel come over me in waves.  One moment, the tide has swelled, and I am swept away.  I am swept to a moment in the past where I can literally smell him, almost feel his touch, hear his laugh, and that warmth when he would look at me.  In being swept away, I fall apart.  I slip into the water, and have that drowning sensation overwhelm me, gasping for air, attempting to grasp onto anything to maintain my head above the sea of emotions.  The next moment, that same tide has receded back into the oceans it came from.  I am back in the moment of today, I am focusing on what I should focus on, and able to feel my feet standing upon the solid ground again rather than searching for the depths of water.

My world has been turned upside down.  Nothing as I had previously known is the same.  And the future feels so intimidating to me.  I would love to grab the pieces of my heart, bottle of glue, and piece things together as I remember my heart before I felt it break...

Incorrect information

Information.  Our world literally revolves around the need for information.  Throughout our day we are constantly introduced to information, whether that be fact, fiction, gossip, or hear-say.  Information is represented and presented to us in many methods.  At any given moment we can access a television, radio, internet, newspapers, magazines, or just listen to those in the same room as us for some sort information.  Regardless of it's source, most of what we hear can be considered gossip or hear-say unless we hear this directly from the person it is directly related to.  Even then, you must take into account the need to assess levels of emotion and that person's reality for the clarity of truth.

It amazes me the lack of character some individuals have today in regard to fact verses fiction, truth verses gossip.  There are those who simply don't involve themselves in the need or desire to hear about others lives, busy with their own.  There are others who seem to thrive in knowing about others, and are sadly unashamed to share this with others, regardless of how it may affect the person they are talking about.

Take, for example, a person who listens and advises others who are going through a difficult time.  This person, in turn, tells others about the misfortunes, and doesn't stop to think that maybe, just maybe, it would be hurtful if the person who sought advise ever found out.  And it isn't really a matter of 'if' but 'when'.  That level of betrayal, the level of trust that is destroyed may take a lifetime to restore, if it can ever truly be restored in the end.  And when excuses are offered, such as "I don't want to get involved, though" when spilling the secrets of others, don't you think maybe you already have become involved by telling others?  The fact you are sharing intimate details about someone else should be reason enough to stop.  Saying you don't want to get involved is not a way to absolve yourself from betraying someone's trust.  If anything, when saying those words you should take stock as to why you are saying it in the first place.

Take, for example, someone who thinks they know everything.  They believe whatever they say is correct, and everyone should believe them.  Yet, they do not check their facts.  Something as simple as how long a business has been in operation or where someone was born should not be a source of issue.  But when you incorrectly state this information to others, then offer a "Whatever" when asked, don't you think it may eventually lead to others not being able to rely on you, or take your word?  It is one thing to share your opinion; quite another to spread incorrect information on a regular basis.

I am not completely innocent of this.  I have been on both sides of the imaginary line in the sand.  There have been times where I have shared something with another person that could have been hurtful.  There have been times when I have misstated something, later having to recant my statement and apologize.  This is not a post about how angelic I am, while those around me are simply not as wonderful as I am...I am not angelic, and will never claim to be.  But that may be the difference between those who willingly share information about others, to others, verses those who can keep quiet about the pain someone else is going through.  Having been on both sides, I can understand how hurtful it is when you feel betrayed.  In keeping with that remembrance, I do try to not enter into gossip willingly.  If information is shared, I usually keep the information to myself, and try to just forget.  I have learned the hard way that information relayed by others is typically not the truth, rarely fact, and mostly gossip.

The information we hear should always be taken with a grain of salt.  Especially when someone decides to start a sentence with "Did you hear...," "I don't want to get involved, but...," or "I'm not supposed to say anything but..."  Because if those individuals are so willing to share someone else's developments with you, what makes you think they won't be as willing to share your own developments with others...

The downside to being a turtle

I am a turtle by nature, hiding within my shell when pain becomes too great to greet the world with a kind hello.  I would like to say this is a great way to deal with pain, but it is not.  In the past few months, I have shut many out of my life, and not even intentionally.  It was not the intent to stop talking to a specific person...it has been everyone.  The only people I seem to be able to share things with is my sister, who is miles away and unable to offer me a hug when I so desperately need one.

Where is that person who used to laugh, who could feel the warmth of sunshine not only on her face, but radiating from within her as well?  I can't remember the last time I felt truly joyful to wake up in the morning, unafraid of what the world has to offer on a new day.  I can't remember the last time I felt satisfied, or able to look around and enjoy what I saw.  I feel so numb.

I feel numb toward others, and their thoughts.  It is not that I do not care, it is just that I am in this world of darkness that allows me to not see the direction, nor the door knob to let someone in, to bring in the light.  I don't want to talk about things with others.  I don't want to share my thoughts for fear of having my emotions exposed.

I feel so broken I am not sure how to talk about it.  I am feeling so hurt within my life, I am not sure how to include others into this realm without feeling like I am revealing too much.  I feel incredibly lost, incredibly tired, and very weary most of my days.  My nights are spent with restless sleep, trying to just make it to the morning when I can revert to the cycle again that involves keeping quiet, focusing on my work, and really not talking to others.

And while it may be nice to hide away, quietly residing in your own pain, not letting others know when you are hurting, there is a downside.  That downside when you have to face the music, explain why you may have not been as communicative as you once were.  In the beginning of my painful couple of months, I was actually doing better.  I was talking to others, able to express myself, and even starting the process of moving forward passed the pain I was feeling.  But, several things happened that forced me to question my trust within others again.  Decisions I didn't want to make suddenly were pressing their ugliness upon my life.  And in the end, I took 10 steps backward for each one step of progress I had made.

And now, it seems the past week has been time for me to face the music.  I am terrified to open up again, afraid to allow someone to hear about my pain, or the fact that I am still further behind than where we know I could be.  Worse, I have unknowingly hurt those that may or may not have known about the struggles I am having due to my silence.

A friend sent me a text message asking what she had done to have me stop talking to her.  My heart broke.  This is someone who has done absolutely nothing to me; has been a great friend, someone who I can trust.  But due to my turtle in the shell feelings, I have not been calling.  I didn't want her to feel responsible to bear the weight of my pain, and hear it over and over again.  I didn't want her to worry, to feel she needed to try to make me happy, or do anything for me, really.  It was something I was struggling with, and needed to figure it out on my own.  In trying to call her, I received her voice mail.  In sending a text message back I felt as if so much was lacking within me at that moment to not talk to her, reassure her that things between us as friends was okay, I was just in pain.

I received a text message from someone I had been dating that said "Sweetie, tell me the real reason u stopped with me."  It felt like I had been stabbed as I read the message.  The reason was not related to him but due to all the things going on within my own life.  Difficulties with a past relationship that made me feel uneasy about trusting someone else, and the decisions that resulted due to that relationship.  There was no undercut reasoning that went back to him; it was just one of those things.  When we dated, I had a great time with him.  I enjoyed his company, could talk to him for hours on the phone.  But it was the scars of my past that resurfaced to create this great barrier of uncertainty.  I remember sending him a text, telling him I had been busy with family things, which at the time was , and apologizing for not calling.  I couldn't let him know the extent of my pain.  In revealing where I was emotionally would have been hard due to the fact I liked him, cared about him, and secretly thought he didn't need me intruding upon his life, bringing my own version of a tornado into his life.  How am I supposed to tell him all that has happened that quite frankly has left me feeling like a ship-wrecked victim, beaten by the waves upon the rocks of the shore.

Sometimes, hiding within my shell is good.  It is safe, no one there to hurt me.  There is nothing but the silence of my own thoughts, the quiet of my own storms brewing inside that I just don't feel like discussing with others.  But the downside is I have left those that actually care wondering what they did wrong.  Intentions aside, that is worse than my own hurt; knowing I have possibly caused someone else pain.

and this is what it feels like

I often wonder why...why can't I just get over this...why does the pain still feel so fresh in my heart...why won't my mind just move past this.  I remember talking about this with you...how we both wondered how others were able to move on so easily...neither of us knowing what the future held for us, and how one year to the date you have been that person we didn't understand...that person who has been able to move forward so easily while I sit in pain...

Maybe you haven't moved forward as much as you have made aims to portray to the world...maybe you have moved further than I realize.  In either situation, however, I'm still grieving for you as if you walked out only seconds ago.  I am still driving in my car, tears welled up, ready to escape like a thief running from the scene of a crime.  I am still attempting to find the blessings in your absence from my world, and still trying to pretend I am okay, and that the world didn't stop when you and I last saw one another.  The past months have only served the purpose of waking, working, sleeping, and repeat...my body continues to function, but my spirit is gone, my desire to laugh diminished, my will to move on without you is gone.

I want you.  As foolish as this desire, it is still real.  I move through my days wondering what I could have done to create a different reality than that in which I reside.  The thought of being with someone else escapes me.  I can pretend for a few moments, allow another in for the briefest of time, but always come back to missing you, longing for your touch again, your voice encircling my world, and the love I still feel is to present and fresh in my mind to release your memory or the thought of you into the past.

My dreams are invaded by our time together. I can smell you still, see your smile, feel that warmth of your touch upon my skin.  I am transported to another time where being together, seeing each other, travel considerations, and reunions were possible.  I am reminded of how it felt to just sit next to you, or that feeling of knowing that by hearing your voice my day was instantly better. Something as simple as a time of day reminds me of you, and my heart is breaking at each moment of my day.  I haven't moved forward, not even a step.  I sometimes feel I have taken steps backwards, in the opposite direction from healing.

My desire to share my thoughts with those that care has been removed.  Why bother rehashing all my thoughts and feelings when I haven't been able to make a conclusion other than remaining in my pain.  What am I supposed to do?  Inflict my pain upon others?  Retell my pain over and over? Why bother doing that to someone else...it is much easier for me to just stick to myself, to not burden others with the pain.  In the end, I am the only one able to correct or fix myself; they could tell me all their soltions and remedies but I am not ready to listen or let you go yet.  I don't know how...

So, I sit...I sit, knowing you aren't coming back. I sit, swallowed by all the moments that happened a full year ago, wondering how we got to the place we are now. I sit, knowing you have moved on, I sit wishing you still wanted me...and knowing that is a dream that will never maintain a glimpse of reality again.  My mind knows you are gone.  My heart is unable to comprehend this as a possibility.  This is my reality now; this is how it feels to be in love with someone who does not love you.