They say home is where the heart is. For what it's worth, whoever they are, they aren't wrong. I have been on a crazy journey throughout life. Of the many lessons life has taught me is that home is not necessarily where we are from, or a destination we are headed to. Home is not necessarily the family we know. It can be all of those things, but the rules are not hard and fast.

I should have had an absolutely crappy childhood. At 3 years old, I was adopted by the parents who I knew as my own for the rest of my adolescence. My dad and I argue about whether or not I was lucky. He insists it was fate, but I say it was both. Those people I grew up with? They are my family. We have had some issues, but definitely, they are family. Where they are? Not home.

Where I grew up was a small community. It barely qualified as a town; it was more of a village, really. It was cold and miserable. When I moved to Seattle, the nearest city, life was better. It was still cold, just a little less miserable. Still not home, and still not happy. Then, I sold everything, hopped a bus and moved to New Orleans.

New Orleans was the best decision I ever made. When I left, I really just needed to escape my confines, so I went on a whim and a dream. The reality, though, was even better than the dream. New Orleans is one of a kind. It is one of the oldest cities in a country that only glorifies the modern, but still not old enough in the world to be an old city. It's romantic and nostalgic and I loved every minute of it. The good, the bad, and the in-between.

But was I home? The simple answer is yes, but what is more important is how I know.

When people can't go home for the holidays, they think about a place. Often it is a childhood home. Sometimes, it is with a loved one who they are away from (sometimes because they went to that childhood home without the loved one). Food others, it is simply wherever their spouse and child are because they have to be separated for some reason. I, myself, am never lonely during the traditional holidays. I don't even really care that my family doesn't invite me anymore.

Today is Mardi Gras. Today I am lonely. Today, I long for New Orleans more than ever. I miss the culture, my friends, and the family I found there. I am pissy, angry, and hurt all because I can't be there. I can not go home for the holidays.

That is how I know. If you are still looking for your home, try this. Think about your important time of the year. Then, think about where you always want to be just then. For me, that tells me home. It might not work for everyone, but what is the harm in trying?

How Whitney Changed My Life...

This post is not a commentary on the life of Whitney Houston. It is not a tribute to her, either. This was inspired by her passing, but only in that I heard this song again a lot. It made me realize how big of an impact the lyrics had on me. This is what the post is about:

“The Greatest Love of All” helped to shape the person I am.

When this song came out, I was just shy of 7 years old. It was a hard time in my life, really. People seemed to think that I dealt with it well, but I wasn't. I was watching my mom and dad split up. Thankfully, there wasn't any violence, but I remember how palpable the tension was. At times, it would boil over.

I saw my mom struggling to keep her family together, and my dad struggling with the decision to be done. I didn't exactly know that was what was happening at the time. I just knew they were holding each other back. There was a day in the car when my dad told my mom that if she put one more thing in it she better not come back. I held myself back from saying, “does that go for me, too?” I just wanted the fighting to be over. I beat myself up over not saying it, and letting them hold me back. At 7 years old, I decided:

“never to walk in anyone's shadows 
If I fail, if I succeed 
At least I'll live as I believe 
No matter what they take from me 
They can't take away my dignity “

I was never going to have that pain. NEVER.

This was also right about the time I started to realize that what my parents had to teach me wasn't what other kids learned from their parents. It took several years to come to the full realization that what I had to learn was the kind of person NOT to be. About the time I hit my teens, I actively started taking my parents example and doing the opposite. It worked out well, really.

However, it left me lonely because:

“People need someone to look up to
I never found anyone who fulfill my needs
A lonely place to be
So I learned to depend on me “

I was isolated, and angry, and lonely for a long time and for reasons that went deeper than my parents divorce. Those are tales for another time, though. Anger wasn't bad for me, though. It made me dream of a better place. That's where the beginning of the song came in:

“I believe the children are our future
Teach them well and let them lead the way
Show them all the beauty they possess inside
Give them a sense of pride to make it easier
Let the children's laughter remind us how we used to be “

I knew there must be a way to change the world. I searched for it for years, and then I lived it. Loving myself, not walking in anyone or anything's shadow and showing the world my light is how I've shown the children (and we're all children, universally) the beauty they possess inside. Accepting my beauty allows me the ability not to judge theirs.

Magick...

When I was a child, my belief in magick was unshakable.  I never doubted, questioned, or tried to explain it.  Truthfully, I didn't even know what magick was.  I just knew there were amazing things all over the place and I didn't know that not everyone knew they were there.

The lights that flickered about me.  The way the rain would come if I were upset or the clouds pushed away when I wanted to be happy.  The things people said that they couldn't figure out how I heard.  Or the way the world around me gave me warning about some things.  Or, even, Clara who played with me in the attic.

Time has a funny way of forcing us to "grow up."  I was lucky.  My aunt Anita, my grandmother, and a few others always made sure there was just enough magick in my life that I never lost belief.  Tales of the dwarves and other Canadian creatures at 100-mile were always my favorite.  I believed my aunt's tales (and still do) so much that I had to wonder when she told me she ordered the weather for me.  You see, one day at 100-mile it rained, had a thunder and lightning storm, snowed, AND was warm enough to wear shorts all in the same short twenty-four hours.  It was magickal, whether she ordered it or not.

As I grew belief did not wane, but  did need to be explained.  I researched, learned, taught, and pushed myself into sickness more than once.  I've been studying for a long time.  I'm wise and skilled at harnessing power.  However, I have lost the wonder.

That is what this post is really about.  Wonder.  Stop analyzing the world, and start being amazed by it.  It is a lesson I have had to face a ton lately.  Each thing, person, and place we come to is amazing!  It is all magick!  The lesson finally hit home tonight watching "Once Upon a Time."  A small boy who dares to dream that his world can be better sits alone staring at a clock that hasn't moved once in his entire life.  Then, as he stares, sullen because his quest for a savior doesn't seem to have worked, the Clock moves from 8:15 to 8:16.  The actor's smile was brilliant and there was a real sense of awe and joy.

Go.  Find THAT in the world, and leave your evil queen behind!

Second Life...

No, I'm not talking about the game (an online RPG, massive player style).  I'm talking about my life.  I'm supposedly getting another chance.  I should be moving back to New Orleans, soon.  It's been a long, rough, year.  I've made a lot of decisions based on the information I had at the time that were good decisions.  Today's life lesson is this kids:


Sometimes, BAD things happen for GOOD reasons.


The concepts we have of good and evil are as flawed as the system who gave them to us.  This blog is even kind-of an example.  I started it when I was depressed, suicidal, and the only thing keeping me going was the great p.J. Maximus (the kitten I had to give up).  I tear up thinking about her, and there have been posts made and set to release to inform you all of my death (thank the gods that you never saw those).  However, Single Dad Laughing's blog made me realize that in the process of being suicidal, I have the means to share with other people.  Maybe, even help them.


I don't advertise a lot how much people mean to me.  Really, I am extremely hard on most of the people around me.  The public generally assumes I am being a bitch or that I hate the world.  Neither is true.  I am hard on people I care about, or people I see the potential in.  That hardness is though-out, methodical, and purpose-fulfilling (not just purpose-driven) in order to make them the best them they can be.  I do it according to their own hopes as much as possible, I don't apologize for it, and I do it because NO ONE ELSE WILL.  I would see it as a personal failure not to pull out every stop to help someone I love.*


Recently, in a conversation about a rapist I know, a friend of mine asked me why I was so upset.  I didn't get it.   He said, "You've never been hurt by this guy.  Why is it so important to you that he isn't allowed to do these things again."  I started crying sometime in my response.  "Because the people he hurts?  They can't or won't stand up for themselves.  SOMEONE HAS TO DO IT!"  It left him touched.


I share that because it is why I'm hard on people.  Until the world is at a place where people challenge themselves, I'll be the one to give them what they need.  This is the underlying theme in my life, and will be what I build my second-life on.  No more distractions.

Sweet Jeebus

So...

This was supposed to be my suicide note.

I don't think it will be.  I prayed in a very public way, and the Universe seems to have listened.  I haven't been able to do anything that resembled prayer in a very long time.  I haven't trusted the Universe in a very, very long time.

"I can feel a Phoenix inside of me..."

I may not need therapy, after all.  A lot of things have changed in the last month.  Finally, the changes I write about are for the better.  I'm in a new apartment, have two kittens, traveled to Louisiana, and my sojourn may be over.

I'm at the Starbucks on Central Ave.  The one with the couches that I posted about on FaceBook the first day I spent in Arizona.  I'm here to get myself out of the house and at least be in a social setting. Today is for relaxing as I apply for jobs online, tomorrow for finding One Voice and seeing if I can volunteer, and yesterday was for saying goodbye.

The goodbye was significant (and larger than I had imagined).  I didn't just say goodbye to the love of my life.  I said goodbye to a way of life that wasn't mine.  Zachary allowed me to believe that I could have a "normal" life.  Even though I wasn't really happy there, the dream was nice.  I let it go, now.  I don't truly want a normal life.  As I told my neighbor, Jeanine, sometimes I look at my sister and I'm a little jealous of the boyfriend, the possibility of marriage, etc.  However, I've seen and done more than most people could ever imagine.  Now that I'm actively healing, I'll see and do even more.  I wouldn't trade that for all of the white picket fences in the world.

I am young (relatively), attractive, and intelligent. The world is my oyster, as they say, but I'm going to make it give me caviar.  Then, I'm going to share that with all the people who can't make it happen for themselves.

Just watch.

Living Legend

I've done it again.  I've gone through a huge period in life without taking in how much I affect the people around me.  Today, I got reminded, though, and I think that was the untold purpose of my coming here.  I was deeply awakened by the simple fact that everyone at this hotel knows precisely who I am, even though most of them have never met me.

Realistically, I should be a virtual stranger here except to the few coworkers I had who are still here.  However, I'm told stories of me still circulate.  The hotel still uses many procedures I implemented or helped implement.  It's impressive to me because it never occurred to me that it would be this way.  I truly thought it would be a quick in and out visit with very little fanfare.  That idea was quashed when I found out that the breakfast lady would be expecting me.

I really never intend for this to happen.  I live my life as true to myself as I can; I don't live to make an impression on others.  That said, I'm deeply DEEPLY honored by it.  Not many people get to see the legacy they leave behind when they depart from any place.  I've seen it twice now.

I'm utterly flabbergasted.