Wake Up

This little speech has been building for quite some time. And I think it's time for that dam to break and to just tell people how I see it. I'm not sure when it started exactly, but one glaring example happened about a year ago. Some friends of mine took some youth students to the Dominican Republic on a mission trip. This was during the time of that silly Harlem Shake business that was rampant on youtube. My friends did much work there, spreading the love of Christ, giving helping hands, and building relationships. They took a break from building houses or feeding people or whatever they were doing to help that community and made a great Harlem Shake video. www.youtube.com/watch?v=azNPrzNSpMc

Now most of the comments were positive. It's great that these kids could have fun with the other kids that they met. But one unnamed religious individual commented with one sentence. I'll never forget it. "Why do we Christians have to look like the world?" What?!? That was everyone's response. And rightfully so. I'm not going to delve into that particular instance any deeper because it is obviously so ridiculous to ridicule or to try to shame kids like these kids into thinking they were doing something that God would not approve of. And I felt sorry for this in particular "holy" individual. What must that feel like to live in such bondage? Spewing that kind of prideful statement about the innocent actions of good kids only puts this "holy" individual on a high horse. He is saying that this is wrong. And that he would never do something like this. The world? So, he can't go to the movies. (He actually probably doesn't.) He can't go to ballgames. The world does that. He can't listen to much music. He can't watch "Breaking Bad," because Lord knows the entire world does that. What I'm saying is that by saying something so asinine, he is calling himself perfect and these kids wrong.

Matthew 7:5 - "You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye." Yeah. That pride and Pharisee-like garbage is a log. Wake up. Nobody wants to join a club whose members are like that. I don't. I don't want some other flawed human constantly pointing what he or she thinks is not up to Pope-like standards. Can we not LOVE each other? Can we not be NORMAL? Can we not ENCOURAGE others in Christ? People like this actually think they are being warriors for Christ. All they are doing is causing people to run in the opposite direction. Another example... A friend of mine posted a photo on facebook.

Now this picture didn't really sit exactly right with me. Of course you shouldn't cuss people out on facebook. If I am trying to be the best person I can possibly be, I'm not going to do that. And I don't. There is nothing that can happen on facebook to make me totally lose my cool and fly off in some passionate rage. This note you're reading is about as passionate as I'm getting on facebook. But to say that you cannot possibly be a Christian if that happens is being judgmental and reading someone's heart. If someone does that, they screw up. Yes. But if they are quoting scripture, then they probably know that they aren't doing right anyway. Don't you think? Anyway, as an attempt at being funny. I posted a joke comment on the photo. This is what followed:

Me: "Well, sometimes I get pretty pissed off and lose my cool completely because I'm a flawed passionate stupid emotional human, but I still love Jesus, and I know He loves me too. :) :)"

Obviously my joke fell flat because some woman thought I was serious and responded:

Woman: "Jessica, maybe try waiting until you cool off before typing something on fb. Yes Jesus does love you, but it sure hurts him to hear you talk like that. Also gives the non-saved reason to call us hypocrites. :("

Ok, first of all, I wanted to say, "And you are....?" Now, everyone who knows me knows I am a Christian. I love Jesus. But they also know I'm not too much into being "religious." I pretty much run from it. And maybe I'm wrong, and maybe my view of Jesus is not "holy" enough, but I really really see him as my friend. A friend I couldn't do this life without. And maybe I'm just crazy but if I told a friend of mine who needed advice, "Listen, I love you and Christ loves you, but Satan doesn't and he's full of shit," I really don't believe Jesus would be hurt in any way. In fact, I envision a head shaking from Him, in total agreement. But here's what I actually said to this woman:

"I'm kidding. I don't cuss ppl out on fb. And there would be no way anyone could call me a hypocrite even if I did. I readily admit I am as screwed up as anyone. I'm a Christian bc of Jesus and His grace. Thank God for it. Makes me want to try harder every day. But when I do fail, I'm still His. I'm leaving it there."

And then a dear friend of mine sent me a message telling me that she saw that exchange, and that's the very reason she doesn't go to church anymore. Made me sad. Why do we want everyone to think we are perfect as Christians? We don't SAY this. We don't DO this. We DO this. We SAY this. Why do we want to strive for some unattainable Jesus status? We are not Jesus. That whole WWJD campaign is FLAWED. It's not about what would Jesus do. It's about what he DID do. Good grief. He took our sins for us. HE was the perfect one. HE gave his life for the imperfect. I'm not going to pretend to be perfect. You can't connect to people on any level if you go around trying to make people believe you are. It's only when people see what being a Christian can do for your life- your messed up, problem-filled, chaos of a life, that they think, "Well, yeah. I need that freedom. I need someone to love me when I know I'm unlovable." If we'd stop all the asininity, and love people and step out of our little religious bubbles, people would see the Christ of the Bible.

I have been blessed to have read two great books lately. One is by Brene Brown called "The Gifts of Imperfection." Opened my eyes to so many things. Being imperfect is human. We all have imperfections. Finding a safe place to be vulnerable about them brings people together. It makes connections. Because we can't connect to perfect people. They don't exist.

The other book I am actually currently reading is "Carry On Warrior: Thoughts on Life Unarmed" by Glennon Doyle Melton. Same principle. I'll quote a passage:

"One day I was at the playground with a new friend from church named Tess. I suspected that Tess was having trouble in her marriage. We hadn't talked about this, though, because we were too busy talking about more important things, like soccer practice and highlights. I felt frustrated that our conversation never went deeper. We seemed incapable of discussing the very things that were most important to discuss. Lost in frustration, I started thinking about all the time and effort I'd spent building protective layers between my broken heart and the broken world. I considered the ways I'd distanced myself from other people - people who might hurt me more than I was already hurting. People who might be disgusted if they saw the real me. My fear of really being seen had driven me to hide inside the bunker of addiction for decades. When I finally crawled out, I pulled on my secrets and shame like armor and carried my invulnerability like a weapon. Life, to me, had always seemed like a battle to survive.

But there at the playground, I realized that surviving wasn't enough anymore. Sitting there with Tess, I realized I wasn't really sitting there with Tess at all. There were so many layers of my armor and her armor between us that we couldn't touch each other. And even if we'd wanted to, we couldn't because we were shooting at each other with stories about our "perfect" lives. Suddenly this all seemed completely ridiculous. Sure, I was sober and out of hiding, but by denying my past to others, protecting myself with the shield of secrets and shame, I had isolated myself. I was lonely, and a bit bored. Life without touching other people is boring as hell. It hit me that maybe the battles of life are best fought without armor and without weapons. That maybe life gets real, good, and interesting when we remove all of the layers of protection we've built around our hearts and walk out onto the battlefield of life naked. I wondered, If I put down my guns, will Tess do the same? I decided it was a worthy experiment. I shed my armor and I waved my white flag. All of a sudden I heard myself saying the following to Tess:

Listen. I want you to know that I'm a recovering alcohol, drug, and food addict. I've been arrested because of those things. Craig and I got accidentally pregnant and married a year after we started dating. We love each other madly, but I'm secretly terrified that our issues with sex and anger will eventually screw things up. Sometimes I feel sad and worried when good things happen to other people. I snap at customer service people and my kids and husband regularly. I always have rage right beneath the surface. And right now I'm dealing with postpartum depression. I spend most of my day wishing my kids would just leave me alone. Chase brought me a note the other morning that said, "I hope Mommy is nice today." It's depressing and scary, because I keep wondering what will happen if that feeling never goes away. Maybe I can't handle this mommy thing. Anyway, I wanted to let you know.

Tess stared at me for so long that I wondered if she was going to call our minister or 911. Then I saw some tears dribble down her cheek. We sat there, and she told me everything. Things with her husband were bad, apparently. Really bad. Tess felt scared and alone. But at the playground that day, Tess decided she wanted help and love more than she wanted me to think she was perfect."

I needed to read that as much as anybody. Religious people so often have the reputation of being unloving. Sometimes that whole "Love the sinner/Hate the sin" thing doesn't really work. It translates as hating the sinner. And thinking that you are perfect... Which makes the sinner hate you and not want to be a part of anything that you are a part of because you are acting as if you're not one of the group. I love Jesus. And because I love Jesus, it makes me want to love people more than I do (I'm working on that daily), and help people, and be a better person, and do the next right thing. Not ridicule.

My prayer is for Christians, including myself, to desire to connect to people. To love people. To love Christ in such a way you wouldn't want to disappoint Him. To be open to people. Now obviously, I don't mean to air your dirty laundry all over town like a crazy person. But to connect to people in an honest way. Not to come across as some perfect "religious" example of what we should be. Just a normal flawed person who has problems like everybody else, who can only get through this life with her Savior and friend. And when we do screw up, the sun continues to rise and shine on us with each new day, just like God's love. And we start again, learning from the day before.

And having friends down here on this earth who love us for the screwed up people we are ain't bad either.

At Least Joey Knows He's Wrong

Somebody needs to say this. And I nominate myself. I've felt pretty blunt this week. So let's go...

One of my many pet peeves is the misuse of quotation marks. And I mean the quotation marks people misuse when they think it gives a word emphasis, when in fact, it makes them look ridiculous. Instead of emphasis, it gives the word a sense of sarcasm, as if you actually mean the opposite. So, people of the world, please hear me. DON'T use quotation marks for emphasis. Use ALL CAPS as if you're yelling it, make it bold, italicize it, or underline it, but no quotation marks please. Just in case people still don't understand, I thought I'd find some examples of misuse and translate what the author is really saying, as well as what he or she meant.

This Sharpie-equipped individual is a lazy writer. Run-on sentences. Random capitalization. No punctation at all, except for the quotation marks that he misuses. Now, what this guy (yeah, I assume it's a guy) is doing is just getting information out there. He wants the door closed because the pipes will freeze. And I think he probably means all-the-way closed, hence the emphasis. But what does this actually say? Other than he learned nothing in middle school English class? It actually communicates that the door probably doesn't close, and you should just do your best to close it. Just sort of push it shut. That's what this communicates.

This is great. This pharmacy, although I'm sure they mean something completely opposite, appears to be a little lax on the rules because you just have to have a "valid" picture ID. Something homemade is fine. In fact, just take a selfie with your iphone and show us that, and that'll do. Instagram is fine.
(Someone find out where this pharmacy is.... Could be good info to have at some point... :)

*wink wink* So y'all feel free to come and go as you please.

Wow. I do believe this firearm store is providing some political commentary on gun control, don't you? You know... Since it's all about your "freedom." There is the phone number to this store. Calling them is tempting.

I don't know about you, but this sign has the word chemicals written all over it. I don't know what "real" ice cream is, but I'd be willing to bet milk allergy sufferers and lactose intolerant folks are fine to eat it.

This store's sign maker.... *sigh*.... There are so many problems here that I'm not even sure what he or she is trying to communicate. All I know is what it does communicate: I don't read much. And I'm thankful for spell check. (Notice no spelling errors. Amazing.)

I love this one. It makes me laugh. So this place sells things that you might want and calls them "alcohol." And you don't really have to have an ID. Just show something that'll pass for one. But here's the rub. They "mean" it. So now it seems as if it's all a joke. And they're messing with the heads of smart druggies. It's almost like a dare to try to buy something illegal, so they can bust you. HA!!  This may be my favorite.

Yikes. Now obviously this employer is trying to communicate that it is absolutely necessary for the employees to wash hands. I get that. But what does it really say? Meh. Just sort of, you know, rinse 'em off. Just "wash" 'em.

I really do hope that these examples have caused a metaphorical light bulb to come on for someone. The next time you are so excited to tell someone that you are going on "vacation," or that your child got an "award," or that you have the "best" spouse in the world, think again. There are people out there who will read that and giggle and shake their heads at the irony. And by "people," I mean me.







Tiger lily

A couple of days ago, I accidentally stumbled upon a novel that I'd never heard of. Tiger lily by Jodi Lynn Anderson. Now, as ironic as this might be since I have degrees in English, I don't read a whole lot. It's time consuming. I don't know whether I became this way in college when it was absolutely necessary for me to finish a novel in a day or so, but I must finish a novel when I start it. I must start reading and finish it within a day or two. I HATE barely reading on a book for months before I finish. So, yes. It's time consuming. I commit to the book until it's done. Understandably, there is nothing more frustrating to me than spending every waking minute of a day or two to finish a book only to be disappointed and feel as if I've just lost days of my life for no reason. It's better just not to risk the lost time. If someone recommends a book to me, I'll read it. But I read a book from one of my favorite authors, Elizabeth Berg, once for no reason other than she wrote it, and I have NEVER done that again. Ha. All that to say... For me to just see this book and buy it and read it is unusual. And I am so glad I did.

Tiger lily is a behind-the-scenes story of Peter Pan, told from Tinkerbell's perspective. It is to Peter Pan what Wicked is to The Wizard of Oz. It's not a brand new book. It's been out for many months now, but I'd never heard of it. But it touched me more than any book I've ever read. Even more than The Shack, and for those of you who know me well, you know how much that was. I loved it. I was moved.

I just now read a review that was published, and it is more beautifully written than I could write. It sums up my thoughts exactly, so I will include it here:

"I had a lot of expectations when I picked up this book because the story of Peter Pan is one tale that I keep close to my heart. But this novel blew every single one of them out of the water in the best possible way. Bittersweet and wild, Tiger Lily has everything in a story that will make it stick to your heart like drying mud.

Being a huge fan of the Peter Pan fairytale, I wasn't sure how a Tiger Lily and Peter Pan love story was going to work. I mean, it's always been Peter and Wendy. They're perfect for each other. Now, I've always liked Tiger Lily but not as a love interest for Peter. What Anderson did was completely recreate Tiger Lily into this complex girl that you can't help but love. Tiger Lily's cold exterior is formed from years of teasing and a quiet but unyielding persistence to get through it. As her legend in the little Indian community grows, so does her solitude and her restless feet. At first, I wasn't sure it was possible to like such a cold and calculating character. Tiger Lily cared deeply for certain people though she would never admit to anyone--including herself. But as she ventures out more and lets her curious feet explore, you start to see cracks in that veneer. And because she is so calm and strong, it feels special. You feel special for starting to see how deeply she cares, how trapped she is in her body and routines and before you know it, you care so much for the girl with the raven feathers in her hair that you ache when she aches.

But Anderson doesn't stop with just recreating Tiger Lily. She breathes new life into every well known character. You know Captain Hook? The guy who is scared of crocs and seems completely okay with his hook of a hand? Yeah, not in this version. He's an extremely intelligent man when he's sober and a roaring angry and paranoid guy when he's drunk. The Lost Boys as a group of cuddling little kids who are just looking for a mom? Well yeah, sort of. But they are also known to be the most vicious and terrifying people on the island of Neverland. Whether this is just a rumor will be up to you to discover. And then there is the man himself, Peter Pan. As Tiger Lily grew close to him, I held my breath because I felt like I was standing next to a legend. How Anderson was able to create and animate such a complex character who is simultaneously so full of life and completely empty at the same time will never cease to amaze me. The care with which the author took to make all of these well known characters seem just enough like their legendary counterparts while making them something completely new is one of the best parts about this novel.

Going beyond the recreation of beloved characters, the author is also able to explain away all the problems that go along with putting a fictional land where people don't grow old in the real world. People just don't grow old on Neverland and the Englanders that come to the island just have an "aging disease". I liked thinking of this story in two ways--part old world exploration story and part magic fairytale. It sounds odd but the two blend almost effortlessly.

I think the blending of these two works so well because of the prose. The story is told with the storybook-esque narrative. We are told things are going to happen before they do but by the time the events fold out, it still comes as a surprise. The simple narrative combined with beautiful prose and a sort of jovial "I-told-you-so" that one finds in fairytales makes Tiger Lily unique onto its own and so very special. I was all ready to dive into Tiger Lily's consciousness so it was a complete surprise when Tink ended up taking the story over. I liked that we got to see her feelings and thoughts about what was going on and she was the perfect narrator since she couldn't speak to the other characters and interfere with how the story was going to play out. We saw how all sides were crashing into the conclusion and how it all would end but we could do nothing (besides the odd bite and ear pull) to stop it.

Tiger Lily is as bittersweet for me as the tale of Peter and Wendy. Their love is doomed from the beginning yet you still see them running in head first though you know what's coming. Watching Tiger Lily grow, come to terms with what love means (not just with Peter but with the other members of her tribe too) and having her heart broken will tear you up in the best way possible. This story grips onto those things you loved as a child, those ideas that you still hold sacred today and shreds them so it can makes something all new. I have a hard time finding words for how much this book affected me. All I can say is it's getting a special place in my bookshelf just like it carved a special place in my heart."

For any of those tweens, teens, or adults who love Disney, or who need to be reminded that people we love leave footprints on our hearts, or who need to be encouraged to tell people what they mean to us, this beautiful, lyrical, honest, moving story will be treasured. I will pass it on to my daughter now. And I hope she will treasure it too.



It Must Wait

I woke this morning with fever and in pain from head to toe. I am pretty sure it is the flu that my son has. I am actually relieved to know that fruits and water didn't make me this ill. I obviously need to focus on recovering before I do this cleanse. I did, however, weigh 24 hours after I started the cleanse. I had lost 4 lbs. Back to pre-vacation weight of 124. So that's good. It only makes me wonder what the scale would read by the end of the week. I will do this again. With a friend or two. I really am curious to see how I feel after the week. Until then, bring on the coke zero.

7 Day Cleanse- Day 1

The day started with my mother-in-law bringing donuts to the house. And, of course, I didn't have any. I stuck with my watermelon (which was terrible), cantaloupe, and strawberries. And the black coffee. It was as bad as I imagined it would be. But I drank it to keep from getting a headache from lack of coffee.

I had grapes and apples for lunch. The water part has been not fun. I have been having to chug water like beer at power hour at a frat house. Because I hate it that much.

Everything was going well until about 4:00. I just couldn't handle the water anymore. I started feeling really sick. Nauseated. Emotional. Headache. I started thinking I had the flu. That's how bad I felt. I ate some more cantaloupe and grapes.

By the time I got to rehearsal at 6:30, I was literally crying. I wasn't hungry. I'm not hungry now. I just cannot put another drop of that awful wet stuff called water in my mouth. I am going to try the cucumber/lemon/mint water that a friend told me about tomorrow. I have drunk about half a gallon today. That is a ton of water for me. Since I NEVER drink the stuff. EVER. I drink coffee (NOT black), coke zero, wine and vodka. That's about it. I am proud of the water I've drunk, but I did not and will not make the goal today. I'm still working on one bottle, but I only want to hurl it across the room, not drink it.

And now, it's 9:45. I am exhauted, emotional, sick feeling, and my head hurts. I honestly feel like I'm going to throw up. I didn't think that was the kind of "cleanse" it was talking about. If I am not actually sick, and if all these symptoms are from this diet of fruits and water today, then my body was worse off than I thought. If it is freaking out like this because it is missing its daily dose of mass chemicals, then let it. This is one time that my mind is controlling things, not my emotions.

Tomorrow I will wake up and have a day of more water and lots of vegetables. All day. Beginning with a potato for breakfast.

I hope this blog entry makes sense. My mind is mush, and my whole wimpy body hurts. I'm going to take a boiling bath and go to bed. I'm not quitting. I only worry that this week will get harder. And I already feel like death. Pressing on.... Pressing on.......

Countdown to 7 Day Cleanse

Just getting back from a short vacation where I did not take the best care of my body, I really wanted to try this 7-Day Cleanse I read about. Supposedly you feel great after the week, and you lose some weight (and I know I've gained some here recently.) The diet reads that you lose 10-17 pounds! To lose 10 pounds would be awesome! ;) I'm not sure how realistic that goal is, but I intend to find out. I plan to blog about my experience every day of the week. I need a sort of support system. I'm writing to myself, I suppose, but I think this will help me stick through it. I can do anything for a week.

Here are my concerns. I hate water. I hate it. It is foul. It is wet and tasteless and makes me gag. I said it. And I have to drink a ton this week. And no alcohol. None. Yeah. Wow. As I type this, I'm having my last coke zero/ vanilla vodka for a week. I even added a shot of amaretto to it tonight. Why not? And I am limited to black coffee in the mornings. No sweetener or cream or milk. I can do it though. Or I'm a complete... what's a nice word I can use??.... um.... wimp. Drink the water. Drink the black coffee. Don't drink the vodka. Easy.

And I love sweets. Milk duds and sugar daddies and other chewy goodness that ruin your teeth. No sweets this week. I love sweets. It's a problem sometimes. I eat too many. And none this week? Cold turkey? Should be interesting...

And I hate tomatoes. They are slimy and cold. Gross. It may as well be raw egg to me. There is one day I must eat 6 whole tomatoes. So guess what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna put my big girl panties on and eat 6 whole tomatoes. Because I'm not a..... wimp.

And beef? I don't really eat it much. It makes me feel yuck. I'll eat a filet every once in a while. And I eat hamburgers from time to time. But I could really live without it. There is one day I am supposed to eat 2 10 oz. portions of beef. I will throw up. I can tell you right now that is not happening. But I'm not worrying about that right now.

I weighed just now. 128. Yuck. I've gained about 4 pounds. Well GOODBYE in a week. I will weigh next Monday night and I BETTER be way lighter than that. Because I'm not eating cold sliminess and disgusting water and gross coffee and no delicious foods for a week for nothing. So stay tuned for my day-to-day culinary trials and tribulations. I'll let you know how horrible it is and will be brutally honest about it. The water will be the worst part.

Tomorrow it begins. Fruits. All day. Shouldn't be too bad.

What If Punk Never Happened?

A friend of mine informed me recently that there is a name for what I now know that I suffer from: Athazagoraphobia. It is the fear of being forgotten. It is a real fear of mine. Probably the only real fear I have. Well, I also have Catapedaphobia, but that's beside the point. I suspected for the longest time that I have a fear of rejection. But that is not true. No one likes rejection, but I don't fear being rejected. If I'm not cast in a show, it doesn't devastate me, as long as my audition was remembered. I realized that this fear of mine has been the driving force in my life for a very long time. Perhaps the reason I try to stay so busy, overfilling my plate many times. In some mad hope, perhaps, that it'll help me be remembered.

And it makes me wonder why. What is so terrible about being forgotten? And I think the answer is that it makes me feel insignificant. It makes me feel as if my life experiences and the things I thought were important and worth my energy and passion at the time are insignificant. I will never do anything that will be recorded in history books. I'm not going to discover the cure for some awful disease. I am not going to be some kind of counselor or motivational speaker who changes people's lives. I'm probably not going to be anyone famous. And that's ok. I think I am fine with who I am. And I'm not unsatisfied with my life. It's full, and I have much to be grateful for and am. It's just when the curtain closes, I am scared to death that no one will remember. Especially the ones who have been significant to me. Of course my family will remember, but I mean more than family. Friends. Teachers. Mentors. Just people in general.

Lately this fear has been overwhelming. I've jokingly called it a midlife crisis, but I think there was more truth than joke in that. I feel the  need to constantly grow. Constantly create. Constantly search for more. Constantly connect and make an impression. Leave a legacy. Feel needed or important. Make something unforgetable, whether it's art or brownies or memories.

I don't forget. I remember everything. I remember details. Conversations. I guess people only remember the important things in life. But that tells me that everything is important to me. Even the stupid stuff. So if the stupid stuff is important, then the significant stuff is mindblowing. Stakes are very high.

I don't know the answer. I don't know how to not have panic attacks because of this silly fear. A fear that I'm sure seems ridiculous to many people. But a fear that I promise is real. The weight I feel on my chest this very second as I type this and my racing heart are real. Just thinking about all this is causing that kind of reaction.

It's just impossible for me to stop trying to DO, to create, to learn, to feel, to search, to be more. If it's an attempt to be remembered, then that's what it is. But couldn't it also be an attempt by me to remember? To value and feel valued?

I listened to a song this morning. It was The King Blues' "What If Punk Never Happened?" Life would be different. That's silly to say, but it's true. If punk rock had never happened, things would not be like they are. Maybe. :) Regardless, it made me think of my fear. I just want to matter. I want the question "What If Jessica Never Happened?" to be a very sad thought to a lot of people. I want to move people in a postive way. I want to be myself... the person God created... and to be loved just like I am. I want answers to my "What If" question to be things like "then I wouldn't have laughed so hard that day," or "I wouldn't have tasted that champagne cupcake or crack brownie she invented," or "I wouldn't have been sung 'P.S. I Love You' every night" (that would be my son's thought), or "I wouldn't have been moved in such a way," or "I wouldn't have learned that."

My favorite part of the song I heard today goes like this:

"Just let your dreams be your pilot, your imagination your fuel, Tear up the book and write your own damn rules, Use all that heart, hope and soul that you've got, and the love and the rage that you feel in your gut, And realise that the other world that you're always looking for, Lies right here in front of us, just outside this door, and it's up to you to go out there and paint the canvas, After all, you were put on the earth to do this, So shine your light so bright that all can see, Take pride in being whoever the fuck you want to be."

The older I get, the more okay I get with who I am. But I don't quit searching. And I think that's okay. It's not a bad thing to keep painting your canvas. And the more "canvases you paint," the more likely you are to be remembered. There are those moments in life you try to remember (births of children, Christmases, etc.) and then there are those moments some try to forget. There's value in every moment. And I pray that I make positive unforgettable impressions in the lives of people, especially the people I love so dearly. Maybe that's narcissistic. But it's the truth.

I'm reminded of "Think of Me" from Phantom of the Opera. I'll spare quoting more lyrics but that's how I feel. People forget. Some even WORK to forget. I suggest we work to remember. To shine bright and make impacts. To remember all the things that make us who we are. To paint canvases. To value people and memories. To be okay with the person you are. And to create new memories that are impossible to forget.