Embracing Balance

“Feeling at peace, however fragile, made it easy to slip into the visionary end of the dark-sight. The rose shadows said that they loved the sun, but that they also loved the dark, where their roots grew through the lightless mystery of the earth. The roses said: You do not have to choose. ” ~ Robin McKinley

In the last week or so, I've decided to forgo watching T.V. at night and listening to any music in the car. A lot of times, when I do things like this, it's when I feel like I'm out of balance and need to regroup. I don't think we realize how much "noise" is going on around us with every breath we take. We get so used to it, we don't even see its subtle, yet grating effects. Just like every time we log onto the computer, our minds are downloading thousands of bits of information. It's the same with the T.V. and our iPods. Last year, I took a break from Facebook for a bit.

This time, it chose me. My iPod ran out of battery and instead of popping in a CD, I just listened to the wind, the soft hum of my car engine as it accelerated and the birds. At night, it's been the pops and creaks of my home, the occasional passing car outside and the wind through my windows. It hasn't been easy, especially the music. But it's brought me a bit of grounding, balance, peace and clarity nevertheless. It's allowed me to see the beauty in balancing the darkness and the light.

Ever since I was a child spinning webs of imagination, my dreamworlds were always filled with both light and darkness, both rays of sunshine and dusky corners bathed in shadows. I never believed life was all one or the other, even as a child. I'm not sure when, but I eventually came to realization it's all about balance. Because there is positive and negative energy in us all and in the things around us every day, but we do have a choice what we focus on and what we nurture. And it tends to show itself in the people we draw in, the atmospheres we create and the situations we find ourselves in.

Unfortunately, I've also realized, there is no graduation date. I will always be challenged as will my balance, whether by outside forces or inward ones. And that is the tragic beauty of life. Both forces have purpose. Because the truth is, without the darkness, how could we appreciate the light? Without angry, negative, tense or malevolent forces and energy in this world ... how could we truly know and embrace the benevolent, kind, warm, compassionate and loving forces around us?

In everything I do and have done artistically, whether playing in an imaginary world as a child or writing a fiction story, poem, song, playing music on piano or guitar, sketching ... I've always been drawn to the dark, sad tales ... but those who look closest could see, they've often always had a layer of hope, movement, love or endurance carved into their core.

I have always and will always find beauty in the shadowy parts of this life. It's not always scary to embrace them. But it takes light to form shadows, just as it takes hope and faith in something to create true living and growth, albeit painful at times.

I've had a lot of growth in my life over the course of the last 6 years. Some if it — despite my intuition and my tendency to stubbornly ignore it — I did not anticipate I would endure. Yes, there was a  point where I was brought to life the moment my lips rose above the surface water of monotony and took breath, but I was too eager and not cautious. I got lost beneath the turbulent waves and was pulled to the lowest depths of anguish. And now ... I'm swimming again. I'm breathing again.

And through it all, searching for that balance, remembering its OK to float here and there. And when I've pushed aside any hurt, anger, resentment I'd collected over the years, and after I've let much of that go now ... I've truly been able to see and feel the tragic beauty behind it all, behind ... life.

I know things now about myself, my heart, my soul, my mind that I could never have gleaned from a book or from those around me. Hearing others' stories, hearing people tell me of their mistakes, of what they wish they'd done differently and what they've learned have impacted me more than they may ever know. I take notes ... but I've often had to learn things through actual living than most other ways. I guess sometimes, that's just the way it goes ...

But now I'm at a place where, yes, sometimes I lose my pace, I sink, but I constantly find the surface again ... and much quicker these days. I feel the wind on my face, born by forward movement in one way or another. Things I once feared so much, aren't very ominous looking anymore. And when I gaze into the mirror, I see a woman ... older, sharper somehow; one I have never seen before ... with a light in her complexion and eyes I'd forgotten was there. I see the shadows in my eyes, painting hard-learned wisdom, the vulnerable dark core, emitting nativity, past hurt and fear; and the forest green iris, filled with potential, strength and love.

It's that delicate balance I now hold tightly against me, cherishing its every fiber. Because the truth is, every part of me, the benevolent and beautiful, the vulnerable and scared, the hurt, weak and angry, the passionate and fierce, the good ... the bad, the ugly. All of it comprises who I am. And only I can choose what to nourish and harness, what to share and display ... what to promote and fuel. Because the more I do, the more I've been watching the things and people around me change, too.

Who knows what's to come ...

~C~

Scent

“A good fragrance is really a powerful cocktail of memories and emotion.” ~ Jeffrey Stepakoff

Strange things have stayed with me from my freshman Human Biology 101 class. One of them being a little trivia fact that our sense of smell is the quickest adapting sense of all five. In my opinion, it's also the most powerful memory-evoking sense we have ... and an underrated one in that way.

So, while we can enter a room or pick up a fleeting scent while walking past someone and moments later, be "used" to it to the point we don't notice ... it is also as though that scent is forever embedded in the deepest archives of our minds until the day it is extracted, pulling — sometimes violently — the memory tethered to the forefront of our thoughts.

I have always loved this phenomena, though it has its unnerving, hard to swallow moments, too ... especially if a particular memory hits so hard and fast that brings along with it heartache. Yet, even then, it is painfully beautiful.

My favorite moment is when a scent flutters past me, caught for only a second, and suddenly I'm fiercely transported back to my childhood or teenage years or to a look shared, an intensely intimate moment so vivid, it seizes my breath. Even better in some ways are the times when I've walked into a room or past a fragrance wafting in the outside air, maybe someone's perfume or cologne, maybe the scent of a particular soap, dryer sheets on a crisp night walk, detergent or an ambiguous antiquated smell I can't quite place. And it pulls at me like metal to a magnet, yet I'm hazy as to its origin.

Perhaps it's a distant memory frayed at the edges by time and the breath of life. Maybe it's something long forgotten or repressed. Maybe it's the memory of being hugged by someone, my face buried in his neck, breathing him in. Maybe it's my grandmother's lotioned hands, my mother's clothes, my dad's peppermint soap.

Whatever the case, feeling that sense of deja vu is something I live for. And the power of scent has a way of igniting it like no other.

~C~

What's in a Dream?

"You dream every night, even if you don't remember your dreams. All dreams — even nightmares — contain positive messages. The trick is learning to decipher the symbolism so you can understand what your dreams are trying to tell you." ~ Betty Bethards

Awhile ago, I received this book as a gift at a time in my life when dreams were overwhelming as I was working through some pretty rough stuff. It's called "The Dream Book: Symbols for Self Understanding" by Betty Bethards. And the reason I really like it is, she speaks my language. She's spiritual, but she's also practical and appeals to the psychological aspects of dreams just as much as the spiritual implications. So, regardless of what you're into ... or not, I think this book could resonate with most people.

Without getting into all of it, one of the main things Betty drives home in this book is that everyone's mind, subconscious, higher Self, etc. is there to help. So even when we have nightmares, they're not meant to scare us, just to grab our attention by exaggerating something to an extreme. And while she does get into general definitions of various symbols, she emphasizes that everyone's mind has its own language, so while some symbols are kind of universal with all of us, there are a lot that only we can figure out.

It's pretty intriguing to think about though. I feel like every time I go to lie down at night now, I'm getting ready to learn something new about myself or get some guidance on something. I'm excited to go to bed when I once dreaded it. Sleep is no longer just about satisfying a biological need anymore or bracing for nightmares. It's about downloading a bunch of information about myself to use in my waking moments ... for free.

Our mind doesn't "talk" in words, but rather images, because they're easier for us to remember and understand. Just like we learn to walk and talk and associate words with images and concepts, we have to learn how to decipher our brain's symbols when we dream. And it takes some time. The scenery, setting, time frame and other details that stick out are ALL important and can tell you so much more than you realize.

In addition, one big thing that sticks out about Betty's book: Our dreams are about ourselves. So, we are the writers, directors AND actors in our dreams. The people we interact with are actually aspects of ourselves and their characteristics are ones we project on them. Even if it's someone you know, you associate that person with specific traits, qualities ... and those are reflective of you. That changes a lot of things if you think about it.

So, to the point. In my particular case, and I realize this is going to be pretty exposing here, prior to July/August of last year, I would rarely remember my dreams, especially over the last four years. I was also repressing a lot of stuff then, too.

Around that time ... basically around mid-summer of last year, I started having nightmares. Really bad ones. They were often of men attacking me, trying to rape me or just hold me down against my will. Sometimes, it was a person I knew ... sometimes it was a complete stranger. If it wasn't that, it was me being chased by someone who wanted to hurt me, often had a weapon (again, sometimes it was someone I knew, sometimes it wasn't). Oftentimes I would try to fight the person off, but would be powerless, or I'd seek a hiding place ... I also would often be "rescued" by someone, another man, or protected by one. Sometimes the man was another person I knew, rescuing me, sometimes it was a stranger.

Parts of the nightmares were mirroring things or feelings I've actually felt/or was currently facing ... but most of the time, they were very extreme versions of fears or bad experiences I had and aspects of myself.

Anyway, the point here being. They weren't literal ... and they weren't about anyone else but myself. So regardless if the person in my dream was a person I knew, his image was actually a reflection of myself or projection of myself. The feelings I correlated with him were my own. So the fear, the trapped feeling, sure, some of that was stuff I'd repressed and once I stopped repressing, it was coming out in dreams every night. But it was also about the parts of me or of life that I viewed as a threat. In this case, men, emotion, being exposed, opening up, letting someone in, being dominated or taken advantage of, the list goes on ...

I continue to struggle with these kinds of dreams, but they're different these days. I'm starting to face the person chasing me (which according to Betty, is me facing said fear or threat). And I'm starting to open up again and trust again. And the most recent dream I had with the person who used to be a threat — he wasn't anymore. He spoke to me and I wanted to run, but I didn't. I spoke back. It felt like talking to an old friend, someone I'd known for a lifetime. His familiar cadence felt like an exhaled breath I'd been holding for a long time. He made me laugh. He asked me to remember the good and to stop painting him with all the bad, he asked me to make peace with him. And ... I did. And I woke up feeling a sense of solace I haven't felt in a long time.

So, in essence, I made peace with that part of myself, the part he symbolized. The parts the other men symbolize in my dream, which I suspect is about emotion and vulnerability ... well, I'm working on it. Hopefully one day, I'll embrace them all. But for now, it's a work in progress.

One thing at a time.

~C~

Random Act of Kindness

"Goodness in other people and what they contribute inspire me. I love it when someone is gifted and shares it in some way so that it has a trickle-down effect." ~ Renee Zellweger

I was going to write this blog about dreams ... the ways in which they can be used as tools to help in our waking moments. But something else is pulling at my attention right now, so, dreams will have to wait until next time.

As I'd mentioned awhile back in my pretty raw stream of conscious writing about covering the Chardon High School shooting in Portrait of a 21st Century Journalist ... I've since been writing ensuing stories. One of my most recent had to do with a crew from Virginia Tech coming to Chardon to roll out their Actively Caring 4 People program (www.ac4p.org). You can read more about it in that link, but part of this program includes these green rubber bracelets, much like we've seen for other causes, i.e. cancer. The idea behind it being, if you see a complete stranger perform a random act of kindness or you see they could use a caring gesture, you pass the bracelet on. Then, they are to do the same.

After the Virginia Tech shooting, 40,000 bracelets were distributed as part of this program and to date, they have traveled all over the world.

It's a simple concept, but complex when you really think about it in terms of yourself and your every day actions. I mean, how often do you do something nice for a stranger, let alone random gestures of kindness to those you love on a daily basis? And why is it so hard for us to walk up to complete strangers who are clearly in distress and ask how we can help? Or maybe something as simple as complimenting something about someone you don't know ... or holding a door for them. I'm not saying there aren't people out there who do this all the time, but if you really think about it in terms of frequency, at least in my experience, it's not very common these days.

The idea behind this program is to get people to empower themselves every day by even just these small gestures to show others they are cared for and matter. Seems kind of simple ... maybe even preachy, but it really hit me. The main guy leading the Virginia Tech movement was a pretty profound speaker, so I'm sure that was part of it, too. But he gave me one of those bracelets. And up until today, I hadn't found the right moment, experience or person to give it to.

I'd been grasping onto this bracelet like it was gold. Yet, it was a simple, green, rubber bracelet. But in my mind, it was going to mean something more. And whoever I gave it to, I had a feeling it was going to be a stranger. Throughout the last two and a half weeks, I'd had moments where I thought someone may deserve it, but something always held me back inside.

I was sitting in Panera today having an iced coffee while doing some editing when two men sat down in a booth diagonally from me. I made brief eye contact with the one man, but his eyes looked fiercely unsettled, so I quickly looked back at my screen. Moments later, I heard him start to tell the other man (who I assume was a good friend) about how his kidney failure has progressed, how he'd seen "another physician" today and the diagnosis wasn't much better, about how the dialysis and medication he's on affects everything, his sleep, his daily routines, the finances, about how rough his day was and how he was losing faith ... he was crying.

I tried hard to mind my own business, but I couldn't bring myself to ignore it. Suddenly, I looked down at my right wrist, at my bracelet ... and it hit. He was getting this bracelet. There was nothing more to it. I knew it in that moment. But I was terrified. I may be a journalist, but it's never been easy for me to approach strangers. It's one thing to do it when I know it's my job. It's another when I'm compelled to initiate a conversation with someone I don't know for a reason that could come out sounding a bit crazy.

Yet, I couldn't ignore it. My heart began to race, my social anxiety began to fester, but I stood up, walked over and said, "Excuse me. There's this bracelet program I'm a part of. And it's about passing a bracelet on if you see someone do a random act of kindness or if you think they just need a gesture of caring. I think you could use one ... so I'm giving mine to you."

I handed it to him and he looked taken aback, as did his friend. He said "Thank you ... I had a really rough day today."

I said, "You're welcome. Now, all you have to do is pass it on to someone who does something nice for you or someone else."

He immediately put the bracelet on, thanked me again, as did his friend, and I walked out ... my hands slightly trembling and heart pounding. Something so seemingly easy, yet it was so scary for some reason. Yet afterward, I felt elated ... and a warmth swarmed my insides in a way I haven't felt in some time.

It was then, I truly felt the power behind a simple, kind gesture. And that's when I really "got it," really got the message behind this movement.

I hope everyone who reads this tries it tomorrow.  You don't need a bracelet to make someone smile.

Sure, this man may have thought I was crazy ... but something inside me tells me he's going to remember that moment for days, weeks, months and maybe years to come.

And maybe ... just maybe, I gave him a little bit of faith back.

~C~

Antiquated Love

“A house with old furniture has no need of ghosts to be haunted.” ~ Hope Mirrlees

Antiques have been a passion of mine for some time. Those close to me know this. But I never really go into detail about why, exactly. And quite frankly, I'm not altogether sure myself why collecting them fills my insides with a mixture of warmth, mystery, curiosity, imagination, haunting and comfort.

It's the same with classic films and songs ... or fitting covers, like this one I listen to on rainy days: Madeleine Peyroux

It's something that started when I was a kid, always drawn to "old things," whether around my parents' house or my grandma's house. It seemed like what was someone's overlooked junk, was my treasure. But as I grew older, I started searching for particular pieces, phones especially. I have a couple of antique ones now, one from the early 1930s with a brass earpiece ... and another, well ... the story behind this one is interesting.

I'd say at least 15, 16 years ago, I started searching for what is called a "candlestick" phone, which is one of those upright 1920s phones that is sleek like a candlestick with a hook on the side that the earpiece hangs from. I would literally walk into every antique store I came across and search and ask. No one ever said "yes, we have one" — until last month.

It's strange. The two most significant pieces (to me) I've ever found, an old Underwood typewriter, circa 1890s, and this candle stick phone, have been while on vacation ... and often at a time when I was going through a lot or just in the midst of an intense period of self growth — kind of searching, yearning for something to set my heart aflame.

This time was no different.

I was walking with my friend Katie in Savannah last month and we saw an Antique mall. She told me to go in, but I had been ready to pass by, having gotten to a point over the years of thinking I'd never stumbled upon the piece "naturally" and would have to look for one online.

So I walk in anyway, just glance through and am about to leave, when something inside me tells me to ask the woman at the counter anyway. So I do. She practically jumps up "Why yes! We do have one. Let me take you to it!"

If someone could have seen my face, they probably would have had to gently close my slightly parted lips and aghast expression. She explained that an older man came in a week or so ago and asked for that very same piece, specifically, and out of nowhere. She told him they didn't have it because she didn't realize what style phone he'd meant. The owner of the store berated her, since it's a rare piece these days and the guy probably would have paid for it. So as soon as I asked, she knew right away.

I heard all this, but I just kept staring at it ... black, brass, so many conversations once trilled through its mouth and earpiece, trembled through its now tattered phone cord. It was beautiful. It would be a splurge.

But I had to have it.

The woman looked at me and said, "I guess it's a good thing I made that mistake. It was meant to be."

As soon as it was placed in my hands, I felt my heart swell with a thousand emotions. Disbelief the greatest. I mean, this is something I've been searching to find for at least 15 years. In fact, I've had several friends looking for it as well.

Now it's mounted on a stand in my place. And, like my Underwood typewriter, every time I look at it, I feel nostalgic for a time I've never actually seen ... well in this life anyway.

Yet, call it the "old soul" in me, but antiques somehow give me a sense of "home." And to tie in with my quote, they haunt me, too ... but in beautiful ways. I wonder who owned them, what their life story was. In the case of the typewriter — obviously symbolic to my own passion — what words were born through the touch of its keys? What stories were told, letters written ... secrets unfolded?

With the phone, I imagine it may have been in a hotel down south somewhere, witness to various discourse, maybe laughter, tears, tension. I'm not sure why certain pieces pull me in like a moth to a flame, but these ones do.

And now, I've been able to cross one more off my list.

I can only dare to dream where and when I'll find the next ...

~C~

The "In Between"

Having spent the better part of my life trying either to relive the past or experience the future before it arrives, I have come to believe that in between these two extremes is peace.  ~ Author Unknown

Feeling in a place I sometimes call the "in between." It's this place where I'm feeling so many different emotions across the spectrum at once, I almost feel I'm "in between" all of them, like a moving target.

Tonight, I'm also struggling a bit with fixating on things that make me anxious ... whether it's fixating on a person or memory or something in the present that is hard to comprehend or face. Fixating on the future ... the past. So the above quote is one I've been looking back on here and there as the days age past me. And it grounds me a bit. I keep remembering that now is truly all I've got. 

Sad things are going on around me lately, sad stories, hardships. Even today, it may seem on a smaller scale compared to some of the truly tragic or painful things people have or are going through right now, but my neighbor's dog ran out and was hit and killed by a car. I don't say this to bring you all down ... but it hit home with me hard, as I'd lost my first dog almost 8 years ago that same way. It devastated me at the time. I was only 20. But today, it just drove home the point that life is short and can truly be gone in a flicker of a moment. In a moment, everything can change. In a moment, our lives, as we know them, can disappear like a wisp of smoke caught up in a breeze. 


Sure, it's an anxious thought to mull over. No one wants to feel like they're lives are completely out of their control ... or that we're blindfolded while standing at the edge of a precipice. I don't recommend fixating on something like that. But I do think it's important to glance back on the concept that life is as fragile as the stem of a glass, to keep things in perspective when we're having bad days (as I am today). To remember good days are often right around the corner, but we have to first make the most of what we've got in front of us. To quit ignoring the cliches "Carpe Diem" or "Live in the moment," or "Life is short." And to start actually BELIEVING those things. After all, cliches don't become so for no reason.

I also tend to be a sponge to the people, environment/atmospheres or situations around me, to my friends' troubles, people I care about who are hurting or family members' woes. It's hard to put up that mental "white shield" sometimes. Like tonight.


Yet I continue to remember I'm living and breathing right now. And there CAN be peace found in this moment if I choose to find it and feel it. I recently took a trip to Savannah, GA with my best friend Katie as my "plus one" for a wedding I was in. We had a wonderful time there. Oftentimes, I go on vacation to "think" or find some kind of answer. In the past anyhow, that's always seemed to happen. But this time, I decided it wasn't going to be about soul searching, it was going to be about living. Simply living. Enjoying the moment and not thinking a thing about the past or future. And for the most part, I was actually able to succeed in this venture. And I felt myself physically transforming, even just in those days. I felt my heart lighten and my soul breathe ... I felt my mind stretch its tense muscles a bit and feel at ease and my emotions took on a slightly breezy, elated form. I felt a brief, but true reprieve.


Yes, I had to come back home and face things and life. And I am. But I keep grasping at that feeling of respite whenever I feel overwhelmed by life. And so far, I've been able to rein things back in and taste a bit of that peace again, even if just for a moment, when I'm able to suspend everything else pressing in on me. Because when I AM embracing the "now," I find that's where all the living happens.


It doesn't happen in the past ... and it doesn't happen in the future. The living happens right now. The peace is there, too, if I allow myself to feel it and breathe it. So that's kind of where I'm at right now. That's the chapter I'm in. And as the pages continue to turn, I'll continue to write them ...


Till next time ...


~C~

Rainy Days

There is something about the rain that has this paradoxical affect on me. There's this simple quote by Roger Miller that I often think of: "Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet."

I've been partial to both, depending on the day, my disposition and the things going on in my life or inside me at the time the waters cascade. Kind of like my post The Night Phenomenon, rain seems to soak into my skin, through my veins and bones right into the very center of me. It's this uncomfortable, melancholy, familiar, comforting, aching feeling that makes it hard to feel drenched in gloom. Yet, in the right company or mindset, rain can ignite the imagination, can illuminate the ordinary, can paint a sheen on the simplest of things, wash away the dirt of the daily grind, rejuvenate, purify, cleanse and nourish. It can also bring out the passion in me, the rawness, the purest parts of my soul and my humanity.

So, it really does come down to the atmosphere around us, within us and our will to shift perspectives. Today, the dreary, doleful skies are putting a damper on my heart. But at the same time, I'm watching so many people outside walking under weeping clouds, some laughing as though it doesn't bother them in the least bit, others plowing through with the sole driving force being shelter. Whatever the case, they're walking. In the past, I've simply just stood, tears mixed with droplets soaking my skin. In those times, I just got wet.

But today, I can see the beauty in the misty backdrop and despite the sadness amidst me and many of us, the rain can be a blanket of comfort, a reminder of warmer, kindled times, playful times. It sings to my heart today, melancholy mixed with love.

Each raindrop kissing my eyelashes, gently reminding me of the days when I jumped in their puddles.

~C~