Conversations With Coffee: Compliments

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Coffee: You Rock
Me:*blushes* Aw. You Rock!
Coffee: You Rock.
Me: You are delicious and YOU Rock!
Coffee: You Rock.
Me: Thanks. I am so zippy now. Mmmmm. YOU totally rock!
Coffee: You Rock.
Me: You may be a coffee of few words, but you sure do pick them well!

-LM 11/2014

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* I used to go to this cafe when I lived in Vallejo. It was called, Good Day Cafe. They had fantastic waffles, the people who worked there were so nice. All of the coffee mugs had these positive affirmations and sayings on them. If they got chipped they sometimes sold the mugs at a discount in their little gift area. Last time I went there I noticed most of the mugs were just plain white. I guess it got expensive to replace the other mugs when they broke.

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My Shoes!

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I’m finishing and loading up a bunch of things today, because I had that marvelous combination of time, internet access and my neuropathy being veddy, veddy quiet. Enjoy!

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“You can’t understand someone until youve walked a mile in their shoes.”

What a ridiculous idea! I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes for two steps and I won’t let you walk a mile in mine. I wouldn’t even let you walk around the block in them.

This is my path. My pain. My difficult road. And sometimes, it’s my easy street. You couldn’t stand to wear my shoes for a minute. Stop looking at them.

This isn’t some kind of challenge. And walking in my shoes won’t make you more empathetic or less judgemental. You’ll just end up pissed off with sore toes and a twisted ankle.

Oh, it’s possible the whole experience would give you some fleeting respect, a little awe for how I’ve managed to traverse such uneven ground in mismatched shoes for all these years. You might marvel at how most of the scars from my falls ended up on my insides instead of on my knees. But your appreciation won’t last because after you’ve taken your pity tour, you’ll be tottering along in your own shoes again, feeling quite superior. While you’re strolling easily or scrambling over debris in YOUR path, you’ll forget all about walking a mile or a minute of mine, although from time to time it may cross your mind that you’re glad you don’t have to.

I’ll let you in on a little secret because I know you won’t remember it next time we meet. I don’t always walk in my shoes either. Sometimes I kick them off and run completely off track for a while plunging my bare feet in sand or wiggling my toes in the grass. Sometimes I stop and lie flat on my back and thrust my feet into the cool night air and laugh at the sensation of lightness.

Sometimes I think subversive thoughts about not putting them back on again or just buying a new pair. But, no, they’re my shoes. Sometimes; a comfortable old friend, sometimes a particularly cruel bully that shadows me home, taking my refuge. Some days they hurt me to my bones, other days they soothes my soles.

I’ll walk in them until they become ghosts. When they fall off in tatters, I’ll walk barefoot until the sun sets.

LM – 2014 / 2016 /2017

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Some Thoughts About Motivation

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I am, as Carrie Fisher used to say about herself, an over-sharer. I have been jokingly referred to as, the Queen of T.M.I. I share liberally and personally. I process out loud, frequently about my health issues, how I wrestle with depression, anxiety and PTSD, abuse I have taken the brunt of, family, life experiences.

Sometimes people balk or take offense at this. They tell me it’s too personal, that I should keep it to myself, that what I share is inappropriate for Facebook or a blog. This used to be something that occurred more frequently. But now, I think the people who were offended have gotten used to it, given up or it’s just finally sunk in, why it is appropriate.

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I do it for me.

I learned a long time ago that returning the shame to the person it actually belongs to, means no more secrets and no more silence. I don’t have to name names, but speaking about my experience out loud makes it real, makes it less painful and it means I am no longer a conspirator. I separate myself from the person who put me through the trauma and become the person surviving it. Why should I be ashamed for what was done to me (or for the resulting life issues) or worry about embarrassing the perpetrator? I have absolutely nothing to be ashamed and embarrassed about. That shame belongs to them!

And when I do this for myself, I am also doing it for others; as support for those who have been through or felt similar things and also to bring awareness and help those who haven’t been through these traumas to understand.

Much of this is also the motivation for my project, The Empress Dammit, which is a definitely a rough work in progress, and deals with how I started to finally build healthy self-esteem, post age Forty.

A lot of strangers run across things I have written and respond favorably. Lately, I’ve been trying to get more of my personal friends, especially those that have said they appreciate my writing, to follow my writing blog. I think it will motivate me both to write more and to actually post it.

Tonight, I was going through past posts and saw something I posted that underscores all of the reasons for why I do this. There have been people in my life that I will never meet that have saved my life with their art, with their openness and with their shared experiences and feelings that mirror my own. Two people I can think of, immediately are Amanda Palmer and Carrie Fisher. If I can move someone, make them laugh, make them aware that they are not alone, that even if they are damaged that their voice, experience and their very SELF is VALID, then it was all worth it.  

So, here is the post, from a couple of years ago; I can’t recall what post the comment was in response to. :

YES THIS! This is why I air out all this “private,” painful, embarrassing stuff. This is why I blog and this is why it’s worth it. When I get comments like this from readers who are absolute strangers that touch me to tears of my own:

” I am very literally crying as I type. I very desperately needed to read this and see my experience put in someone else’s words (so much validation for so many things). I honestly felt my skin crawl reading your experience. In all seriousnesss, it matched my own so closely that I felt irrationally paranoid…still am a little…Regardless, thank you. Thank you so damn much. May I please share this? “

I hate so many things about the life I have had. It hurt and still hurts so much.
At the same time it is a huge blessing, it is a valuable tool to help others and I am so filled with gratitude.

I guess we are all seeking motivation from without and from within. I write, largely, because I have to get it out. If I don’t, it hurts. That goes for the personal content as much as the poetry, stories and other creative bits. But, that internal motivation is not enough for me. Motivation is usually a good thing. It isn’t always pleasant and it’s not guaranteed to make things easier, but it is a tool that can help you do things that give your life purpose and make it both meaningful and satisfying. At least that’s true for me. When I get a response or a message, even a “like” on a post on Facebook, it lets me know I’m not alone out there. My words have reached someone. And I know for every person that lets me know they read something, there is probably at least one person who read and didn’t leave any clues behind. Dare I hope more than one?

Thanks to those who like, follow, message and comment. Thanks for motivating me to make more content.

Cheers!

 

Aphrodite Sneakers

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Aphrodite Sneakers

When life gives you ugly
Throw back a little sparkle
You were never meant to hold
The hand you were dealt forever
Play your cards right
Lay them down on the table and walk away
Pick up an electric colored daisy
Pull it’s petals one by one while you say
I am mine and I am free

When the sun casts a shadow
Put on your bright red shoes
Dance in the pitch black night of day
Like you’re the only one watching
Make it up as you go along
That’s what everyone else is doing
They just won’t admit it
When you make it up as you go along
There is no wrong way

We’re all afraid of the big bad wolf
Who is really just a stray dog
Howling for a warm lap
And a soft hand to rub his ears
When life hands you a blustery chill
Make it a pot of cinnamon tea
Offer an ear for the sorrows
And a genuine compliment
Why, your frost shines like diamonds!

Everyone rages and everyone sleeps
Everyone dreams about being naked
And everyone is blind sometimes
Some are blind to their blindness
But we see more clearly
When we accept our myopia
If life hands you a mirror
Say, Thank You
Even if it hurts to look, especially if it hurts

If life tickles your funny bone
Milk that for all it’s worth
Drink up
That amazing medicine
It can carry you miles
And miles and miles and miles
If you happen to step in shit
Scrape your shoe off in a garden
You can stop and smell the roses while you feed them.

When life gives me ugly
I throw on my red shoes
My Aphrodite Sneakers
I put something shiny next to the rough, plain ground
And I put one flash of rhinestone stars
In front of the other
And I walk in beauty
Knowing her secret
There’s so much beauty, beneath the ugliness of life

-LM 2017