SOUL MUD: Random Ramblings of my 24/7 Brain

gift - n. - a thing given willingly to someone without payment expected For whatever reason this year - as has been discussed in length with my dear friend Denise – the “reason for the season” seems to be muddied with greed, hostility, and attitudes that are nothing short of foul.   Gifting has become an outlandish expectation that puts stress on the giver and tends to give the receiver no lasting joy.   I was reading an article about Millennials recently.   I realize that there is always a younger generations of “whipper-snappers” that society complains about…I’ve been that generation myself…but despite all the negativity about millennials, I’ve found their obsession with “experiences” refreshing.   I know some will argue that they are not securing a future for themselves, etc.   However, I am simply commenting on their experience-driven desires.   I think it is a step in the right direction – away from all the “stuff” that clogs up and weighs down...

I find myself very “in” my own head this time of year.   There is a sadness to the close of a year that makes me a bit melancholy.   I suppose my age is doing that to me.   I don’t recall if I’ve always felt this way, or if I am just more aware of the fleeting nature of time as I get older.   Regardless, the events of the past 12 months tend to play through my thoughts as I sit judge and jury to my life.   I’m not one to wallow in regrets.   As a matter of fact, I think I can count on one hand the things that I truly regret.   I don’t know if it was something I learned or if it was innately part of who I am, but I have always realized that my life belonged to me.   I understood that I would be pounding out my own path.   This has often meant that I have made choices knowing that I would, as a result, have to face the world and any impending consequences independently.   But I’ve never doubted that I could handle what came my way. ...

HEARTACHE HOME BREW by Autumn Boyet Stinton   A master brew of pain and strife, I’ve brewed you up a few times in my life.   The ingredients in the mix are strong alone, But, swirling together they make me heartache prone. Oh, heartache home brew, look what you do… Look what you do!       There’s pain and hurt and love and lust, No communication, loss of self and loss of trust. When things fall apart and get real rough, There comes a point when its just been enough. Oh, heartache homebrew, it’s because of you… Because of you!   Things breakdown, I’ll slip and have to let go, I’ll plummet through rock-bottom and still down I’ll go.   I drown in churning emotions and fear, The path out and forward to me is never clear. Oh, heartache home brew, what you put me through… What you put me through!     The angst will gnaw and eat me up inside, It breaks my heart, my soul and ...

(My Personal Fallout from the Drama That Was the Nomination, Hearing and Confirmation Brett M. Kavanaugh - October, 2018) Life is a large collection of instances, events, choices and moments; fragments of a whole...a whole life.  Each little piece, whether whole, cracked, broken or shattered, individually reflects or refracts - yet makes up the larger whole. My life, the way I live, my goals, and who I am are a result of all my collected experiences.  Individually, they don't define me yet they collectively play a role and contribute to the person that I am today.  To respect me as an individual, is to respect my collection of individual experiences for they are my truth and they belong to me alone.  And, furthermore, respecting each other is paramount while living within any society.  Without respect, there is but chaos.  The past week has been an intense emotional rollercoaster for me.  It has taken m...

This morning, as I stood with fellow co-workers in the common area of our firm watching the live testimony of Christine Blasey Ford.   At one point, I looked up questioningly as the woman next to me handed me a napkin.  It took me a moment to realize that her offering was in response to the tears that were streaming down my face.  I was taken aback at the realization that I had been moved to the point of tears – tears spurred by emotion so powerful that it would not be denied, even in the face of possible public humiliation.   I was suddenly very aware of the fact that I was not centered in my reality.  You may know the feeling; the feeling that you are watching yourself and events around you from above - in an almost dream-like state.  It was a surreal moment that was very disorienting.  I decided to step away to re-group and clear my head.  I wondered down the hallway toward my desk taking in a number of sights and hearing bits of many co...

Nostalgia is a funny thing.   Triggered by smells, sights, sounds or just a brief flash back – a glimpse of a wistful memory or moment long past, but recalled with affection.   As summer comes to a close for so many school aged children, and kids head back to school, I have found that I am indulging in my childhood memories of summer.   The most vivid of my memories are of the summers that took place at Falls Creek Ranch.   I can close my eyes and feel the cool mornings and cool evenings on my skin.   I can smell the fresh mountain air seeping in through the window screens.   I can hear my mom’s voice floating up the stairs.   As annoying as it was when I was a kid that she was always so chipper in the mornings, her pleasant morning singing and the noises of her clambering around the kitchen soothe me now in my memories.      I suppose that my mom's descriptive adjectives of summer might not be the same as mine.   But, I’m not...

As I get older, I think about the timelines and guideposts that I use to gauge success in my life.   I often think about what I knew (at least what I thought I knew) and what I know now.   I think it is evolutionary.   Life continues on and, (if we are actually living our lives), we learn and grow as we go along.   I’ve always had an independent mind.   I have always felt as though I was fairly sure of who I was.   I knew what I wanted and where I was going.   Looking back, I can see the goal posts that I set and the timelines that I created and followed – sometimes almost blindly and to my detriment.   The only saving grace that I can glean from the bumps, bruises and failures I survived along the way is the realization that it is all part of the story that makes up who I am today.   When I think about the timelines that are imposed on us and how rigid they can be, I can’t help but consider where they came from and how I adopte...