Who Do You Think You Are?

Dealing with people for the better part of nearly 45 years has taught me something. People are shit.

People like to prey on the vulnerable, take advantage of the kind, walk all over the meek, and generally assert their dominance over anyone in their path.

Something happened to me over this winter. This winter had me sick and laid up more than any winter to date. I broke bones, I fell a few times, kept getting sick and my arthritis was at a 10 most days.

Now, I don’t know if it’s the menopause, or the amount of time I spend alone thinking, or the many videos and research I’ve done into dealing with narcissistic abuse from family and friends, as well as CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy), but I feel like I’ve aged in wisdom about 10 years or more.

I grew a backbone.

I’ve learned not a lot of people don’t enjoy my new found confidence, joie de vivre, my way of living, my lack of fucks to dish out.

Tough.

Who do you think you are judging others? Judge not lest ye be judged – Matthew 7:1.

The most effective way to be judged yourself, is to judge someone else. You don’t know what a person has been through, is dealing with, whether they have support or not, whether they’re being abused. So it’s best to keep your judging mouth shut unless you want all of your skeletons pouring out of your proverbial closets.

Who do you think you are to give me medical advice about my conditions? Last time I checked, your were slinging cannabis, not getting your degree in medicine.

Who do you think you are giving out life advice when your own house is a mess. If you’re a mess yourself, why let that influence and affect another person? Keep your mess to yourself thank you, and kindly fuck off.

Who do you think you are that because you have 1/3 interest in this home that you think you’re the boss? How dare you criticize when you’re a bit of a head case yourself? Do you NOT realize what we’ve endured during our tenure as your roomate?

Who do people think they are these days? Self absorbed, entitled, selfish twats.

Have you ever noticed how heartily someone will argue something they know virtually nothing about? Ignorant twat. The Dunning-Kruger Effect is at maximum throttle in our society.

To all the Brendas and Karens out there sporting your let me speak to your manager haircuts, who do you think you are? What are you doing hun? (We’re all huns here) Do you think you are the only women with children? Problems at work? Customer service issues? Wrong order sent to your table? Incorrect change given? Did someone cut you off in traffic, or take the parking spot you were gunning for at Walmart?

I think I need to remind you, you are not a unique snowflake.

What makes you so special above everyone else? I’d really like to know. Maybe write a little comment explaining why you feel you’re more important than anyone else in our world.

Who do I think I am? I think I’m just a busted up ol’ broad, blogging for free therapy, struggling to get through one day at a time. I stay humble. I am not better than anyone. I have issues and I recognize those. I am here merely by the grace of God.

It would serve us more if we could all be a little bit more humble. A little bit more compassionate, just a tiny bit more empathetic to others.

Stop the judging, the gossiping, the putting yourself on that pedestal that no one sees but you. Stop interfering with other people’s lives and focus on your own.

Because, who do you think you are?

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously.

S.

Image Courtesy of

https://churchsermonseriesideas.com/who-do-you-think-you-are/

Article Courtesy of

https://www.verywellmind.com/an-overview-of-the-dunning-kruger-effect-4160740

Men:  A Scathing Review

I don’t want to sound like another man hating lesbian, but I am becoming a man hating lesbian.  

For years I have been watching almost every damn woman I know struggle.  Struggle for equality in pay, struggle for opportunities, struggle in love, with their self worth and even with their own identities.  At the root of a lot of these struggles, is men.  

I see my well educated double degree and masters holders, business owners, professionals, beautiful strong women friends being oppressed by men.  I see friends who are absolutely stunning women, struggling with self confidence.  I see talented, exceptional women being held back with pay and job security.  I see my highly intelligent friends questioning themselves.  I see my beautiful friends everywhere being treated poorly by men children.  

What’s a man child you ask?   Well it’s simple.  It’s a man who’s emotional growth stopped at pubescence.  He cares about material items, looking cool or tough in front of others.  He likes his toys.  He thinks primarily of himself and his needs rarely giving a moment to consider yours.  He doesn’t ask you about you and would rather blather on about his own problems.  He likes to hear himself talk and often seeks an audience.  He doesn’t see you as an equal.  He sees you as his property, his meal ticket, his product, his inferior because he is the man and you’re the woman.  He can’t handle pressure or any real responsibility either.

I’m angry about how men have been treating women for ages both professionally and personally, and in light of recent events of all the shit bags in entertainment, news and politics being called out, I want to jump in on that momentum.

It needs to stop.  

A man doing the same job as his female co worker should not earn more simply because he has a penis.  “Oh this doesn’t still happen though, things have changed” you might say.   No.  They haven’t.  Most women (unless you’re Meryl fucking Streep) working in entertainment, TV, film, news and radio, often, do NOT earn equal pay to her male counterpart.  And honestly, I bet Meryl had to endure her fair share of shit early in her career.  Women’s ideas are NOT listened to or taken seriously.  She is forced to endure inappropriate comments and unwanted advances.   She is told she has to look pretty and wear make up.  She is undervalued, underpaid and overworked.

“But if you work hard you can do anything you set your mind to”

That’s some great advice from a man right there, because he is oblivious to how the other half truly lives.  It’s not his fault, he’s just always been a man.

“There are still some great men out there.”

Yes, but they are few and far between.  A dying breed if you will.  We had a small resurgence of the sensitive man that came as a result of 90s grunge and the angst ridden, tortured souls of the Prozac and Cobain generation.  These men can often be found sporting beards and man buns wearing toddlers like vests.

“What is a real man then?”

A real man builds others up regardless of gender.  

A real man sees qualifications and hard work, not your breasts.

A real man treats women others with respect.  

A real man has integrity.

A real man isn’t guided simply by ego.

A real man treats his woman with respect, is supportive, caring and kind.  He puts your needs before his own.  He values you as a partner and a person.  He loves his family.

“What makes you an expert in men?  You’re gay.”

For 34 years I lived in denial trying to get by as a “straight woman”.   I dated many men.  I have a father and step father.  I have 3 step brothers.  I have had probably 20 male bosses in my life and hundreds of male co workers.  I’ve always had plenty of female friends throughout my life, and I am a good listener.  I have paid attention.

You might be a shit bag employer if:
You hire women based on what they look like.   As a teen, I worked in 2 of biggest coffee shops for years.  Not only was I sexually harassed, had my boss rub up against me, but, that same boss blatantly stated one day that he’s “not going to hire her, because she’s kind of ugly and has a big ass.”  Now that’s a minimum wage job.  We see all the shit that’s coming out of the woodwork in the high power world of entertainment, news and politics- (Matt Lauer I’m looking you, you dirty creepy shit weasel) what do you think it’s like in the real world?  

You say really inappropriate, cringeworthy things to and around your female staff and colleagues.  I had an employer tell me once that I had “Nice blow job lips.”  This came from a supervisor.  Fucking creepy.  I didn’t even feel safe at a couple of my jobs.

You talk about sex openly.  

“Pal, you’re barking up the wrong tree.  I don’t want to hear about it, and I certainly don’t want to picture your ugly ass naked.”
Look, I know there a few good men still out there.  I even know a handful.  I see you, I applaud you, I respect you.

However for all the women out there that are:

Struggling to be heard at work

Struggling with your careers in a male dominated workplace

Struggling with dead beat Dads

Being taken advantage of

Being taken for granted

Being disrespected, lied to, cheated on

Being abused verbally, physically or emotionally

You deserve more.  You’re a strong, intelligent, beautiful woman.  You deserve better.

I see you.  I applaud you for your strength, courage and determination.  I respect you.

Empowering Women
Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

Sam
Image “Empower” courtesy of Pixabay (Creative Commons)

Find Your Niche They Said, It’ll be Good They Said

Blogging image
I’ve been blogging for 5 years now.  This is actually my fifth blog.  I wrote under a pseudonym for the first 4 years (Sparky Lee Anderson);  I also wrote a blog called The Canine Companion that was about dog health and training.  I then ventured off in to Blogger to create a blog about living with ME/CFS called My Life in Fog Goggles and I begun an additional blog called My Whovian Take solely about Doctor Who.  I guess you can say I was trying to find my niche.

Finding my niche has been my greatest struggle.  I see so many women doing Travel, Beauty and Lifestyle blogs and that’s just not me.  I mean, I wear make up sometimes, but I’m poor so frugality is a big thing in my life.  I know nothing about new make up trends, Sephora, or $100 serums.  I’m here in my closet sized bathroom slathering St. Ives and Clean & Clear on my aging, acne prone face.  I still use baby powder after my showers and I buy whatever lotion happens to be on sale that week.  I don’t even buy women’s razors.  I refuse to spend more money for a pink handle.  Fuck that noise.  So as you can see, a Beauty blogger I am not.

I don’t think anyone is interested in my travels seeing how as I mainly only travel from the bed to the couch to the bathroom, with periodic jaunts outside in my Pajama pants to take my dog out for her pees.  Every so often I walk up to the corner store for a Diet Coke.  Sure, it’s all first class travel; because I said so, I’m wearing my good Chucks, my dog is dressed in her finest jacket and I’m drinking a whole can of Diet Coke, not half a can in a plastic cup with airplane ice cubes in it.  I also insist on carrying hot towels with me at all times and a sleeping mask should the mood catch me.  If I wrote a book about Travel it would be called, “I don’t have to put a bra on do I?”.  I’d probably only sell a few copies to other women who hate bras.  It wouldn’t be a fruitful venture.

That brings us to Lifestyle.  Well, if your lifestyle includes things like eating peanut butter with a spoon out of the jar at 1 am over the kitchen sink, or house cleaning in your underwear, maybe I’m on to something.  I could write about the dinner parties I throw.  Ok so it’s not so much as a dinner party as it is Supper for two people.  I could write about my Clubbing adventures.  Sure, it was the nineties and we danced to C&C Music Factory while downing $1 watered down beverages and I haven’t stepped foot in to a club since Clinton was in office but hey.  Maybe I could write about things like Home Decor.  I can do amazing things with TARDISs and old movie posters.  Do you like Christmas lights year round?  Functional furniture that doesn’t match?  Let me be your Ghetto Martha Stewart.  I can show you how to fold take out napkins into little squares that fit discreetly in your purse in case you ever need to pee roadside.  I can offer you a hundred ways to use Baking Soda.  I can reveal secrets like; Did you know you can do laundry at least once or twice without soap thanks to the soap residue and build up in your washing machine?  No?  You’re welcome.  I just saved you $3.  Perhaps I’m on to something.

I don’t know if I will ever fit in to a niche any more than I fit in to my skinny jeans.  I’ve always been kind of an outside the box kinda broad. 

Are you a niche blogger or do you have a theme you tend to write about?  Share your links below, I’d love to learn more.

Are you one of these people that put eyelashes on your car’s headlights?  If so, please remove them, they look ridiculous.  This statement really has nothing to do with this post, but I just saw one drive by and had to voice my opinion.

Please check out one of my top posts like this one and don’t forget to subscribe to my mailing list and follow me on Twitter @LezGeek

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously, Shag it,

Sam

Image courtesy of Pixabay

Things I Do That Drive My Partner Crazy: A Rebuttal by Partner

Things I do That Drive my Partner Crazy: A Rebuttal
After posting my prior post titled Things I Do That Drive My Partner Crazy , my ever loving, ever so sarcastic partner “C” decided she would weigh in.  Here are her responses:


Random Singing.

Hey. I’m fond of the random singing! It means she’s in a good mood. So sing on, girl! “Singing” the entire Fairlight part of Running up that Hill isn’t singing – it’s bleeps and bloops. You’re making computer sounds for heaven’s sake. You are a Dot Matrix printer. Beep Beep. Bloop Bloop.

Eating in Bed. 

How the fuck a human manages to eat an apple in 5.1 digital surround sound cranked to 100 is beyond me.

Patience with technology.  

Most of our technology is stone-age obsolete bricks. Having fits about running Windows 7 on a third-hand $200 laptop from 2007 is just silly.

Free? Yes please! 

Collect all the freebies you want, love. I’m poor too. Pass the purse hot sauce.

I love my dog.  

OH THIS IS A STICKING POINT FOR SURE. I love that she loves her dog! Pets are part of the family!

Having said that – I’d be just as angry if a family member took a giant steaming sloppy dump on the floor for me to walk in at 5 a.m.;

I’d be just as raging if a younger sibling sat on my partner’s lap for 12 hours a day and totally clam jammed me at every opportunity.


I tend to collect things. 

You call it collecting. I call it knick-knack hell.

I’m a night owl. 

You say night owl, I say as long as I don’t wake up it’s kosher. That 3:20 a.m. alarm, y’all.

Also – I don’t call her horror and supernatural documentaries stupid. Anything that someone is passionate about and interested in is not stupid.

I say that those horror and supernatural documentaries *might* have a role in the screaming night terrors…

BONUS! THREE THINGS I DO THAT MY PARTNER HATES!

This face
Things I do That... This face

This face

This face 2

and

This face

This face 3

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,


Sam


(Graphic designed by me-Canva)

Diet Coke and the Rape Basement

Today my love and I had lunch with her mother and two aunts, they’re in town for a few days.  We hit up the Urban Deli which is one of the best lunch spots going here in Saint John.  I had my favorite, the peanut butter burger fries and a Diet Coke.  I know I know,  it’s diet it has aspartame and all that shit but I love it and I limit myself to one a day.  I usually crack my can (never plastic) of liquid gold in the afternoon when I start to feel sluggish.  It perks me up and it’s oh so cold and bubbly (we call it picky in our house- oh so picky).  I often quote a scene from Family Guy in a highly caffeinated voice, “If you see the green shirt go around 30 times in 5 minutes you get to have a Diet Coke!”

 

 

Lunch was delicious.  The peanut butter sauce snuggled the bacon on my grilled burger before it ran deliciously down my fingers and hands.  So juicy.  We strolled the city market while we waited for our table.  The ladies checked out all the crafts.  These women are serious about their crafts.  They have entire rooms full of fabrics and craft supplies.  They can make anything.  They’re like a team of sewing MacGyvers really.  Afterward they critiqued the crafts which was funny.  “The craftsmanship was NOT worth THAT price.”  Or “That’s not how you make a hat really but..”  We stopped by The Baking Stone which is a little corner spot bakery that offers an array of sweeties.  At 5 ladies deep, two of which PMSing, it wasn’t even discussed.  We just kind of all congregated in front of the glass displays of desserts.  Much like when you were a kid during the Christmas season looking at all the window displays of toys at the mall.  I showed much restraint after having a fight with a pair of zip up capris prior to going out.  I balled them up and tossed them in the closet like “take that evil pants!  You can come back out when you can behave.”  Now, I can’t be sure because I have no corroborating evidence, but I suspect someone has broken into my apartment and switched out all my pants for identical pants only a size smaller.  I settled on one cannoli.  Gotta make it count right?  

 

I was up late blogging last night and out during the day, walking around in the sun so I’m already getting tired.  I started yawning at 5pm.  Starting to have that pain shooting down my neck again.  Ugh.  So sick of wearing Magic Bag scarves all the time.  I do laundry for a neighbor of mine and told him I’d do it tonight which I am now regretting.  Our laundry room is in the basement.  Our building is 140 years old so the basement is dark, cold, dusty and creepy as shit.  It looks like something out of a horror movie actually.  I prefer to do laundry during the day, I refuse to go down there after the sun goes down.  We call it “the rape basement” because it looks like a place that perverts would love with it’s dim light and many dark corners.  “C” says it looks like something out the Saw movies.  I have included photos for your viewing pleasure.

The Rape Basement

I didn’t intend to write a lengthy post today.  It was mainly just to have written something.  Anything.  

 

How was your Monday?

 

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

 

Sam

The Mysteries of the Lesbian Relationship Revealed

Cannoli
Mmmm Sweetie…
The quintessential lesbian breakfast traditionally begins with a hefty portion of bacon ideally served with a warm croissant. Money and time permitting, that is followed by a Second breakfast. The ultimate Second breakfast is made up of a delicious sweetie like say, a cannoli perfectly paired with a hot cup of Saint John’s finest coffee- Java Moose, Foghorn if you please.

We will enjoy our morning coffee on our Sesame Street style stoop while the sun is shining and discuss today’s plans (namely, what we will eat) and observances. There was an overweight Robin Hood and a Value Village Xena walking down the street today. Bizarre yes, but this is an artsy area. We live across from a Performing Arts center so we concluded it was for a play. I know people wonder what it is us lesbians do at home. I’m about to reveal an age old secret. It’s not all late night cable soft core porn as many people would choose to believe. We talk about food. There aren’t sexy pillow fights happening, there is Masterchef, Kitchen Nightmares and anything else Lord Gordon Ramsay (he really should be a Lord) has a hand in.

In addition to our many hours of Yahtzee and Star Wars Trouble with the Pop’O’Matic Bubble, we like to compete in the kitchen. Coming up with different techniques and seasonings to try to blow each others’ taste buds away and tease each other over who’s the better cook. I say it’s her.

At some point today we’ll play hide and seek with the dog. We have a miniature dachshund named Lucy. Well, I have a dog that she lays no claim to; more of a cat person she insists. We’ll do some housework and Netflix for the day. We’ll curse my laptop as it craps out a dozen times. Then we will cook dinner. The star of tonight’s dinner will be chicken, frankly it’s the only meat ‘C’ will eat unless I make pulled pork.

Sometimes we send each other dirty mind reading text messages like,

“I’m craving chocolate, are you?”

And wouldn’t you know it? I am!

I’ll literally be fantasizing about ice cream when I receive a message from ‘C’

“I was thinking about ice cream, should I get some?”

Hell yes.

Food is prevalent in most lesbian relationships I’ve learned. I’m just glad that I found someone who likes the same food as me (barring seafood). Our snack preferences are the same and our cooking talents measure up to one another. My partner- my life and food partner.

Our relationship is no different than anyone else’s. We do the same things other couples do, there’s no mystery or evil or “agenda”. We’re just two people who love each other, love food, love the same things, (barring my dog) who happen to be women. Period. Sure, we boob bump (chest bump) when something goes our way but I mean- who doesn’t??
Also.. Who couldn’t adore this face?

Wire haired Mini Dachshund
Lucy the Dog
Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

Sam

Mastering Myself in My 40s

cropped-ferry-n-chucks.jpgLet me begin by saying you will never master life.  You may master cooking the perfect pot roast, the art of knitting perfect stitches or baking the perfect cake, but never life.  You can improve your life through self examination, by releasing your intentions out into the universe, a healthier diet or yoga certainly, but I’m not sure any of us will ever master it.

 

Why I Struggled to Write This Piece

 

My friend approached over a month ago to submit a piece to her website dedicated to women Mastering Their 40s.  Eager to please and flattered she asked I embarked on something more than I expected.  I was stumped.  Me?  I haven’t mastered anything.  I have been disabled for a few years now and unable to work.  I struggle every day to get out of bed as I never feel rested from constant pain and restless sleep frequently filled with PTSD nightmares.  I am 43 but have the body (inside, biologically) of a 65-70 year old woman.  I have been plagued with illness my entire life and now I am constantly exhausted, it creates what they call “brain fog” so different days I am cognitively impaired, stiff and very sore.  It makes me miserable.  Illness, pain and depression stole and is slowly consuming my life.  I can’t do what others expect of me which frustrates me as well as them and leaves me burdened with a tremendous amount of guilt and self deprecation.  I thought to myself, “Who am I to give advice?” and, “I’m not that interesting or fabulous”

 

I Am Neurotic.  I Apologize

 

I’m not one of these broads that have it all together.  I don’t have a husband; I’m a gay woman, I have no children; I have a dog.  I will never own a home and I don’t have a vehicle.  I am poor.  Not, I can’t afford a cruise poor, but sometimes I can’t afford tampons poor.  I still drink sometimes, I smoke marijuana, and I curse a lot.  My idea of a fancy meal is delivery from Boston Pizza on pasta Tuesday with maybe a $15 dollar wine if it’s a special night.  I am more apt to drop my food on my shirt than to drop cash on something I don’t really need.  I have to be extremely frugal.  I am more apt to have a peanut butter and jam sandwich for dinner than orchestrate a full meal.  I am more likely to exchange delicious and inventive curse words with someone who cut me off in the crosswalk than to exchange delicious and inventive recipes with a friend.  Martha Stewart I am not.  I worry.  That’s what I do.  I worry about everything.  I stress about everything.  I get nervous about everything.  I fart when I’m nervous.   I am … a neurotic mess.  

    

So instead of writing advice or listing things that has helped me I’ve put together a few things that illustrate where I am as a woman in her forties.


Finding My Niche


Once I hit my forties, I threw out my thong underwear.  All of them.  Not because I was planning on giving up intimacy, not because I wasn’t concerned about VPL (visible panty line) but because I wanted to be comfortable.  My comfort comes before you seeing my panty creases in my pants.  For the first time I started to become more comfortable in my own skin.  I don’t have the body of a 25 year old; I never will, I am 43.  I have flabby arms, a big round bum and less than perky breasts.  So what?  So does every other 43 year old woman unless you’ve had surgery or live in Hollywood.  Now leave me alone with my bacon cheeseburger.  I also enjoy my food a lot more than I used to.  I take the time to taste each bite and savour flavours without worrying how long I need to spend on the stair climber to burn it off.

 

I also learned that working a 9-5 office job wasn’t for me.  I had to accept that and learn to be okay with that.  I needed to find ways to earn money from home and focus on writing more instead.  Writing has always been a passion of mine since I was a child and I take a lot of pleasure in completing and publishing a piece.


Taking Time to See the Beauty

We spend so much of our youth speeding to hit adulthood that we find ourselves in our forties thinking, “I missed so much.”  Then we spend our midlife and beyond trying to recapture our youth.  Enough of that.  Now I just try to savour moments like I savour food.  Take mental pictures of things that make you smile.  Remember details of the things you enjoy so you can revisit those moments on your bad days or store them in your brain locker for when you’re in your old age.  Whenever I encounter beauty, I breath it in, I fully immerse myself in that moment and remember every detail.  A breathtaking view overlooking the serenely sapphire Atlantic ocean on a sunny day when it seems the sun is dancing amongst the waves, the only sounds are the waves hitting the rocks and racing to the shoreline.   A peaceful swim on a quiet lake at midnight, the only light is that of the moonlight that reflects upon the still lake, the only sound being that of your own heartbeat as you float on your back, effortlessly breathing in the brilliant moon.  That delicious meal you’ve been waiting for and it’s finally arrived; the aromas, the colors, the textures, that perfect sear on a meaty juicy buttery steak; that first bite as it pleasures your palette with delicacy and satisfaction.

 

People can be so removed from the moment, thinking of something else, worrying, stressing.  These actions do not serve us at all.  All they do is distract us from things we should be enjoying.  When you’re with your family or close friends- BE with them.  Put your phones down, talk and really listen to one another.  

Exercising Gratitude

This was a big thing for me to do.  Struggling with illness and depression for so many years and not having the support I truly needed left me with the sour taste of bitterness throughout my thirties.  Sure I sometimes took time out to express gratitude to God, but I felt pretty jaded and cheated.  It wasn’t until my latter thirties early forties I really tried to take time out daily to think about what I was grateful for in my life and to come to terms with my sexuality despite my faith and beliefs.  Through prayer I determined that God knew what was best, that I should live my life genuinely and honestly.  I spend a few moments each night reflecting on that day and I thank God for putting certain people in my life, providing food and clothing and shelter in addition to His love and forgiveness.  


I Couldn’t Care Less About Gossip

There’s an old adage that says,
  

 “Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people.”  ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

 

I have tried to move away from paying attention to things like gossip for example which seems to not only require a lot of time and energy that in the end benefits no one.  So why waste the energy?  Let’s talk instead about I don’t know… Changes in our society and how to adapt, because I don’t know about you but, doesn’t it seem there are far more important things to talk about right now?   There’s that impending war, or the changes in our laws that affect everyone or how our food has become practically toxic to most people?  Hey, those bees are still dying.  There’s an increasing rise of violence and crime?  The fact that respect and courtesy are dying attributes in our society?  I don’t know about you but I am ready to pop those snotty kids at the drive thru windows these days… But hey, I digress.

    

Writing Notes For Myself

I have several notebooks that I have stored all over my apartment, my purse, my nightstand and by my couch.  Each notebook serves a purpose.  I have one for short stories, one for poetry, one for writing ideas, one for organization- listing things I need to do or take care of, one for hopes and one for prayers.  Writing is a great tool for self discovery.  It allows you the freedom of emptying your heart without judgement.  It’s therapeutic to put into writing how you feel, how you’ve grown and the things you’ve learned about yourself, the world and others.  It allows you to be present in that moment and experience those feelings.  I find even spending just a few minutes a day with just myself and my words leaves me with a small sense of peace and accomplishment.  

Self Care

This is still fairly a new concept to me but I am taking it in stride.  As we get older and get bogged down by every day life: Work, children, spouses, finances, illness, it becomes crucial that we take moments out for ourselves.  Even if it’s a long hot bath or a solo shopping trip.  Taking care of ourselves and our health allows us to put our best selves forward.  If we are healthy, happy and strong we can be better spouses, parents, employees and friends.  We can be more supportive of others and lead by example.

Meaning What You Say/Saying What You Mean

I spent a lot of my thirties searching for inner peace, immersing myself in my faith, reading a lot of self help books and I even went back to school for Nutrition and Wellness, Personal Training and Fitness Instruction.  I guess I spent a lot of my thirties trying to become a better version of myself.  Along this journey I stumbled across a little book called The Four Agreements you may have heard about it through a friend or through the original lady’s guru Oprah.  Admit it, you watched it, we all did.  One of the agreements is to Say What You Mean and Mean what you say.  That resonated with me simply because as a Customer Service/Sales person for years, I had heard  A LOT and what always frustrated me was people who beat around the bush.  Just say what you mean but only say it if you really mean it.  Words can easily be thrown around like monkey feces at a zoo and sometimes words can hurt people.  So think about what you’re going to say before you say it.  I have a checklist:

  1. Is it important?  
  2. Will it make an impact?
  3. Is what I am going to say going to possibly hurt someone’s feelings?
  4. Is it really necessary?

If it’s not necessary and if it’s just a matter of pride to speak up and voice your opinion, like just to prove you’re right for example then I say nothing.  Whatever little quip or sarcastic remark I may be thinking, I refrain from saying it out loud.  It takes a lot of practice and I have the bite marks on my tongue to prove it, but think of how much nicer the world would be if people considered these things before speaking?

 

I don’t know, I’m no expert in anything as I previously stated.  I’m just a broad with a potty mouth who is trying desperately to just be a good person.  

 

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

Sam

Burger Lover