#KindHearts/MeanHands

[mountains-moving-91]

Improve Your Stance - Walk Your Line

Having a kind heart matters. And it’s about the only “rule” that I truly care about having in my house. See, I’m the mom that is at home teaching my kid to step in the middle of a fight, IF_and_WHEN he witnesses someone being bullied. He might get in trouble at school, but he will never get in trouble at home for standing up for the right thing. And kids are fucking mean, you guys. Really, all I care about is him having a kind heart.  My mother isn’t always the biggest fan of my parenting style…and she “wouldn’t allow” half of the things that “I allow” - or so she says when she clearly isn’t on board with the way that I “discipline” - or teach my children…But what she and others don't understand is that I’ve been through a different walk of life…and I wasn’t put on this earth to roll with other’s beliefs. I’m more here for the Moana type of life…where listening to “no” in dire situations isn’t what I stand for. Really, it all comes down to kindness - and understanding that there is a reason for everything…and that it is always worth taking the chance to understand that reason before you react to what’s in front of you. 

Listening should always come first - regardless of who you are talking too - but it should never be your only light. Why? Well, it is simple. Sometimes listening to the advice of other’s isn’t worth what you are going to get out of the end game because they don’t see or feel all of what you are going through. At the end of the day, you are the only one who can make your next move. And sometimes, you are going to have to go against everything that you have ever been told just to  prove a point for yourself…and for the ones that haven’t made it to where you are sitting - because we all started somewhere, at it wasn’t from the top.. Let me tell you - I have lived, live, and will continue to live a very different life than most people will ever understand. Honestly, I wasn’t supposed to get out of my previous lifestyle (you know the shooting up herion junkie days of mine)…and I know that by the number of times that EMT had to come rescue my ass. But I did and that doesn’t mean anything other than  I have a different type of light to share with the world…

I eventually started packing up my shit and started moving on from my addiction and those surrounding it. I got a good job and built a new group of friends within that job…and I became a single momma shortly after. Anyways, in an effort to continue my growth, I left out some of the most important parts of my story…See, most of those people in my life now have zero idea what kind of life I actually led before. They know the basics and surrounding details but nobody has the fully story…and I promise only a very few know what I have actually been through…and continue to live through every single day - because at one point I let a man put his hands on me in a very mean way anytime he got mad and he had anger issues. I did let a few people in to some of my darkest or scariest moments, but there are very few that actually know the real me - and why I am the way I am…and why I whole heartedly stand behind the line that I do…

The more time that passes, the more I realize how much I have been holding myself back from healing - just from still being so ashamed. I never shared the bad stuff about my life. I wanted them to like me because it was also my job. I had bills to pay and babes to feed…and people tend to frown upon past junkies…And it wasn’t just my job. It was everybody, everywhere. I learned how to cover up what made me by keeping those details to myself - at the risk of being frowned upon - because I still judged myself. And it wasn’t just the judgement…it was very much the shame that came with the very ugly and dirty life that I was previously consumed in. On top of that, you’d be surprised at how much shame and embarrassment comes along with being a battered woman, especially when you are living through it - or trying to recover from being IT.  

And that’s the point. They have it different than me. They haven’t been through some of the things that I have been through. Trust and believe, that is to their advantage, at the time being, because recovering from and healing from feel the same, and might even look the same just scattered over time. See, recovering from a situation is simply getting on with it, for the time being. And then time happens and the days turn into nights and eventually you start crying less and less. Within time, you may find that you have moved on, but eventually time allows things to come back…and if you never really deal with the pain, it will knock you to your knees - in a different way - time and time again. Time is weird like that. It starts giving you the  chance to think things through. It allows you the opportunity to decide what is worth the pain, and what was a bad judgement call. And in time you live, and learn, and eventually life either makes you or breaks you. And from there you either deal, survive, or conquer.   

I am learning that sometimes you have to take what little  you have and find a way to build an empire with it - even if it doesn’t seem like much to start with.  I am literally playing with fire right now, but I think the trick is finding a way to do it the right way - with the right people - in a humble kind of way - from the ground up..and we all need to do a better job of remembering that for some that might be their very lowest moment. And for other’s it might be their second in line. Don’t you think it would do the world a little bit of good if everyone tried their damn best to think like that? How far could we come if each one of us tried to be more understanding, and less judging? Can you find a way to let another’s perspective in, without truly walking a day in their shoes? 

Break down a little with me...

I’ve spent the last few months hardly ever taking my headphones off. First, it was a distraction during work, from work, while working. It didn’t take long before my house was too quiet and I just couldn’t think straight without some sort of noise. Some might say that is sure to happen when you are a single momma of 2 kids with 2 dogs and a work from home job - without any friends. Really, the music was the only way to drown out the loneliness that my life had become. Eventually, music and time was all I had on my plate…It has been a bittersweet experience. It started as a means of surviving and as I am healing I am finding more to laugh at than if I didn’t have music playing...Honestly, you should try it. It almost makes life feel like you are living in the middle of a movie…with background noise and all - if you let it. And from there you can make it what you want - and you can do it in your own way - without having to worry about the judgements of others, which is currently one of my personal goals. 

It wasn’t that long ago that I couldn’t get a word out of my mouth - with enough courage for anyone on the other side of the table to be able to make out. And that’s because I was raised to believe that the fight wasn’t worth the reward if it meant possibly making another human being upset. Basically, I was always being told that it was better to take a seat and listen simply as a means of not causing a ruckus. And if you had to make a ruckus, that it should be for the right reason.  Here is the solid truth. I am breaking so badly that I can’t live my life without my headphones, and the music. But at the same time - and mostly when I am out in public - I am able to find beauty in my surroundings because of the music. I might not be able to follow the whole “Sit down” Dad speech at the cost of hurting others feelings, but that is basically my stance in life... I’m not trying to bow down to those below me anymore. And I don’t feel like you should either. I am spending a lot of timing listening, just not to others anymore. And I am working to speak up more, about everything that is right. It might end in a “fuck, of course there’s a no u-turn sign!" when I missed my turn and am running late a majority of the time,, but eventually there’s gotta be a point where enough of the right people are are standing up.

After my Grandpa Hergott died, my dad introduced me to The Farmers Creed. The last line of the poem reads: 

I believe when a man grows old and sums up his days, he should be able to stand tall and feel pride in the life he’s lived.

We all have a story to tell. SPEAK UP - and do it kindly.