I know quite a bit.
I listen and take in (to some surprise) what most people say. Intimates, acquaintances and strangers alike. It’s simply a ‘thing’ with me. I also tend to remember what is said, in detail. Another oddity, but quite true.
So, with that qualifier here is my question – is it important to press a matter when you know you’re right?
Should one let go even though they’re quite sure of what they’re speaking about if another simply refuses to listen or believe?
When does being right become detrimental to relationships, life, love and perhaps even sanity?
Most who know me will tell you that I am a ‘know it all’. And, it’s quite true. I’m the first to admit this. I’m also quite opinionated as well (this is rhetorical, so if you know me, there is NO need for response, capiche?). But, my opinions stem from moments of truth, moral responsibility and particularly situations where dire consequences may come to play. It’s my personality. So sue me (okay, don’t really).
I am passionate, compassionate, outspoken and stubborn. All rolled up in a sweet flaky pastry shell.
Huh, am I making any sense?
At this point you’re more than likely trying to figure out what the point or moral of the story is. Right? Well, there truly isn’t one. I believe I am simply trying to put something into perspective within my mind and soul. And, of course, I would like to ultimately find the answer of how to let things go.
Sometimes, now and again I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror
who is that girl?
Drastic change comes with (or so I’ve been told) image crisis. I wouldn’t say I am exactly in ‘crisis’, but I would absolutely admit that there are times I’m not exactly sure who I am any longer.
So, every time I become a bit confused, I’ll simply reintroduce myself to me.
It will go something like this:
“Hello, you’re new around these parts aren’t you?” “Why yes, yes I am. It’s lovely to meet you, I’m Candice (and sometimes I even let others call me Candy. Although that’s rare).” Then I will smile and move along with my day. I sometimes feel it’s akin to ‘Fifty First Dates’, where the girl is introduced to her life and self, every morning. The only difference, there’s no brain damage affecting me, instead physical change and emotional growth.
I’ve decided the most important piece of this puzzle is the enjoyment factor.
So, I’ve entered the ride and fastened my seat belt. It’s time to hold on and squeal with glee (literally and figuratively).
Change. Health. Happiness. Fulfillment.
An E – ticket attraction if ever there was one.
I am self-satisfied!
I awoke this morning to a feeling of utter accomplishment
Not just the ordinary, something good happened, kind of happy.
Instead, a feeling that comes only from loving oneself and the understanding that
you’re on the right path.
There’s something jubilant that bubbles up from the soul.
It effervesces and attempts to escape through my pores.
A delightful excitement about the future – a knowing that one’s life is about
to burst open with flavor, like a crackling pop rock on the tongue.
You were my first.
I saw fireworks when we kissed.
Brilliant red and blue skyrocketing behind closed eyes.
I remember our first hours.
Rain, wind and thunder stormed outside as passion and curiosity blossomed in Porsche leather.
I ran scared after that evening.
But you gently persisted.
And then I fought no more.
I remember your words on that fourth of July –
“We are no longer just friends, now we are lovers”
You were my confidant.
Thank you for teaching me that trust and honor did exist.
For giving me peaceful sleep while listening to your heart beat.
Until the very last day of our acquaintance your kiss brought weakness to my knees.
Thank you for loving me.
For whispering words of tenderness in my ears
and giving me a part of your heart …
I know such beauty still exists somewhere.
I will persist …
I collect bits and pieces.
Small shards of moments that I cherished.
Cake toppers and so much more.
Every bit, a reminder of a precious moment once lived joyfully.
I suppose you could say that I am a true romantic.
It seems I have always been this way.
When I was a child I would tape conversations. Knowing (somehow) that one day the voices of loved ones on the tape would be ever so important.
An old poetry book filled with tidbits of my life. Now placed inside an airtight bag for safe keeping.
A mickey mouse cookie missing one ear forever living a cold (yet warm memory) existence within my freezer.
I believe that every lovely experience has a place within my heart and mind.
So, I hold onto the tangible manifestations of all the love, laughter and life.
These moments have shaped and molded me soulfully into the person I am today.
My past is who I am
where I have been.
So, as I move forward into life, I will continue to gather small tokens that I find along the way.
And, they will eventually mingle with the past, adding a rich patina to a life lived.
Do you ever wonder if our souls know?
Do they know the ways of the universe?
Is the mystery of life locked away in a secret compartment known only to our subconscious selves?
Are our lives predestined or does free will overpower and allow us to change the course that has been set?
When we sleep do we let go?
Are we tethered to this plane yet allowed to float in other dimensions?
Are our dreams reality?
Memories of our past and the moments we experience while we drift in the ether?
Is love tangible?
Can you touch it?
Feel it with your fingertips?
Does the air hold emotion?
When we cry do our tears water a tiny secret garden beneath our feet?
When we sigh, are we exhaling our restless life force and inhaling molecules that are more peaceful?
If we’re very still can we feel the earth rotating on its axis?
Does ascension hurt?
Are kisses communication?
Do you know?
Have you ever wondered how people see you?
How you’re looked upon by the world?
How we’re perceived?
This evening while spending time with a close friend (my ex as well), I was surprised by an observation that he made.
We were watching the movie “Must Love Dogs”, when the character Jake spoke of a woman.
He described her this way:
“oh Charlie you should see this girl. She’s shy, she’s fragile, she’s self-conscious. She has no idea how beautiful she is. She’s a mess. It’s fantastic.”
At which point my friend patted me on the arm and said “this sounds like someone I know” and smiled. I was a bit taken a back. I then asked “is this how you see me, really?”. The answer a resounding “yes”.
This slight moment seems to have catapulted me into a place of ‘who am I?’ And how exactly do others see me?
But seeing isn’t always knowing, is it?
And, there’s something about being known that is slightly unnerving. Yet, it’s also somewhat intriguing.
My best friend says that I’m perfume, light and sweetness.
But is that all they (the ubiquitous they) see?
Should I care?
I suppose the moral to this rather lengthy story is this:
No matter how hard we attempt to hide our vulnerabilities, sooner or later someone is going to get a peek at the inside.