I'm pacing outside the door to the room where I will proctor yet another End of Grade Test, anxious before the process even began, when I noticed the bulletin board outside the classroom. The theme was "our internal speech", i.e. how to turn around a negative perspective. For example, one item on the board said, "I hate this subject"...and beneath it, the corrected version was, "What am I missing that makes this subject anxious for me?" As I read through the blurbs on the board meant for elementary aged eyes, I began to internally apply them to my forty-six year old viewpoint.

How many times do we, as adults, get angry or frustrated with something and let those feelings cloud what's really going on inside? I know for me, it is far too frequent, but I am aware of, and actively working to change that. Trust me, it's a S-L-O-W process (...what's that dumb adage about  teaching an old dog new tricks?)! Today during our school's EOG process, I found myself feeling more and more stressed out by various events that were taking place. As those feelings of irritation and anxiety reached a crest, I was able to stand guard in a room filled with easy-going students having lunch after a very long morning. Their happy chatter, although a bit on the noisy side, began to drain away my tension. Students who knew me, saw me, wanted hugs. Students who didn't, asked who I was an engaged me in fun conversation. It was a room filled with warmth, smiles, and interesting food items packed in colorful lunch boxes, and the entire scene just flat out made me happy. Plus, at least five adults came by to ask me if I'd had a chance to eat, fussing over me the same way they might with the kids. It was quite lovely.

I know that part of my problem is when I think something is "wrong", I am very adamant about pointing it out and/or attempting to argue my point. I have yet to fully embrace the old military concept of S.U.A.C. (...which stands for "shut up and color"). Not everything has to be an argument, even when you're right (...and let's face it, most of the time, I am...*snorts*). One day, hopefully before I'm too old to apply it, I will embrace the times I need to just S.U.A.C. and discern them from those times where fighting is the proper path. Until then, having the children all around me serves as a really good buffer and frequently relieves most of my stress.

When someone I love is going through difficult times, it is agony for me to be able to do nothing more than merely stand by their side and assure them it will get better. I want to wrap them in a protective bubble and whisper, "No harm, no pain will come to you. I will protect you down to my last breath." The reality that I can't (...and even if I could, shouldn't) shield my loved ones from every harm leaves a pit of dread and pain in my stomach. It permeates my moods, my thoughts, and keeps me awake at night.

I know what it feels like to desperately need a savior, as the entire world crashes down on my head, and my first instinct is to ensure that doesn't happen to anyone else I love, not on my watch, not while I can fight. But I can't slay every dragon. And my heart knows that most of the things we truly learn come from experience and pain. Still, my nature is to nurture. I have yet to find the balance between fix it and fight, versus being supportive while "they" figure it out. It's like being underwater, and watching various people I love falling in, floating down trapped inside "the cage". It took me years to figure out how to finally escape my own cage and honestly, I don't know how many times I nearly drowned before I got there. Now I am left, screaming underwater, as those I wish to save sink deeper into cold, black depths...

I don't know what to say, except that words are useless. I don't know what to do, except cry...equally useless. If I knew someone to beg to make it stop, I'd be on my knees right now doing so in earnest. All I have left is, "I love you" and "It gets better, I promise." It is so little...and not enough, but it is everything I have. So, take what you need...and I'm sorry it's not more.

So, I'm scrolling along reading random discussions and comments in various places around ye ol' internet, when I come across this gem:

M. S....Nobody cares about victims of bullying, even if it is a trend. People just want to say they care (to look good) but actually do nothing about it. LOL. Just stating my observations, not my opinion. Really, people need to stop giving a f*ck, it's the only real solution at the end of the day. (that, is my opinion)

I scroll up to read further and see exactly what has sparked this group of words strung together that is now banging around in my brain, and it's a conversation about bullying (obviously) on college campuses. I have to walk away, because at this point my mind is going berserk with thoughts like, "Is this how most people really feel? Have we become so callus and self-involved that this is the attitude we're all supposed to embrace about the problems in our world? The only real solution is to just not care, at all??????"

I change clothes, meanwhile mentally talking myself off the ledge. "It's going to be okay. This is not the norm. Generally speaking, most people do care..." but it's no use. I hate to admit that often those leading the charge on this issue i.e. bullying, really do seem to pay lip service to it, while in actuality, doing absolutely nothing. And how many other things does that premise equally apply? I mean, let's face it, one of the most publicly recognized bullies EVER is currently running for president and holding his own. If this doesn't make people shake their heads with the complete unreality of the situation, then I can't imagine what would.

And how many times a day do I encounter people who just don't give a f*ck about anything but themselves...in stores, as I walk down various aisles, or on the roads with drivers oblivious to the fact that they're driving a weapon and seem to think they're the only ones out there, or worse, that everyone else will just get the hell out of their way? When did people stop giving a damn about other people? When did we become so self-involved that anything and everything that has nothing to do with "us" became irrelevant? And why didn't I get a memo that that was how the human race was going to evolve? Have we officially reached the "Sorry folks, we're all out of humanity" phase?

If that's the case, and the aliens are coming, y'all just pick me up as you fly by...or better yet, take all those yahoo's who care more about their phone, or whatever, than any person or thing they pass by on the streets. I want absolute zero part in a race of beings who "no longer have any f*cks to give." Thanks.

"Warriors are not what you think of as warriors.
The warrior is not someone who fights,
because no one has the right to take another life.
The warrior, for us, is one who sacrifices
himself for the good of others.
His task is to take care of the elderly,
the defenseless, those who cannot
provide for themselves,
and above all, the children,
the future of humanity."
--Sitting Bull, Hunkpapa Lakota


When I was a teen, I wanted to be a police officer and several times in my adult life, I've given serious thought to joining the ranks of the men and women in blue. My love and respect for law enforcement began with my mother's youngest sister, whom I looked up to so much as a child. I admired her, wanted to be like her because she always seemed to have her junk together and it felt as if she was just short of "superhero". She was strong and focused, loved her job, and, to my young, innocent eyes, looked invincible. I figured if she could be a cop, maybe I could, as well. Then, I'd be able to protect myself and others from those who would cause harm...and I would stand for justice.

Adulthood taught me those childhood ideals are not quite as simple, but I've never lost my tremendous respect for those who put themselves in harm's way in order to care for and protect others. It's a thankless, difficult job and it seems like in these times it's more dangerous than ever. Tonight, at 7 pm EST, I will participate in an event to fill the skies with blue balloons to honor anyone, everyone who stands that blue line and serves people who often don't say thank you enough.

Thank you, all of you who protect and serve...and all those, like myself, who support you!

Things I've Learned So Far Today:

• Being shushed by a seven-year-old is cute the first time...but by the fifth, not so much.
• Having an iphone is extremely handy to incorporate technology with students, especially if you don't have your own classroom or access to a school laptop!
• Glass is made of sand, limestone, coal ash, and cullet.
• I can change my mind at least twelve times between 7 am and 2 pm about what I want for dinner (well, okay, I kind of knew this one).
• There are at least forty shades of blue nail polish, which is WAY too many choices for me!
• Doing a job you love, with people you love, makes the day go by super duper fast!
• Drivers who completely ignore the posted speed limit annoy me a lot.
• Getting sweet, mushy texts never gets old.
• Sometimes I cry at really goofy things (...like the ending of the book by Chris Van Allsburg called Just A Dream, where a jerky little boy, who litters, doesn't recycle, is rude and only cares about himself changes his tune after he's shown the future and what will happen to the world if nobody bothers to take care of the Earth).
• Old songs that I really like and haven't heard in a long time make my half-hour drive home very lovely.

I woke up this morning with my mind still caught on the remnants of the strange dream I was having. Bits and pieces of that dream have stuck with me all day, but not the details, so much as the feeling of knowing something with my whole heart and soul, something important that I can't quite remember. The things above that I've learned so far today have helped distract me from driving myself crazy trying to make sense of a dream that probably is never going to make even a lick of sense. While I find that truth to be more than marginally irritating, I am consoled by the fact that clearly my day has not been wasted (...and there is more left to learn, as we're just over halfway through)! The frosting on the first half cupcake of a day was the student who hugged me tight before I left, saying, "I'll miss you tomorrow." That, alone, was worth getting out of bed for!

During the work week, my days tend to blur, setting a routine that if I'm not careful will become too much like merely existing from one moment to the next. I am sure I'm not the only one who is subject to being caught up by this dilemma. I have to force myself to take a breath, be deliberate, and focus on each little bit of joy or beauty happening around me at any given moment. This small act of conscious awareness is important to me, because I don't want the bulk of my life spent strapped to whatever whims, tugs, and pulls life wishes to yank me around towards.

I've learned that some measure of routine is a big comfort to me. It makes me feel as if there is order and reason to my "world". I need these things. They are my steadying anchor. But I've also learned it's not healthy to become stuck in the "Comfort Zone". In that space, growth is nearly impossible and fun spontaneity is non-existent. I need those things, as well. Life's routines are my substance, and those other things, growth and spontaneity, are the seasonings for said substance. Add in a splash of the unexpected, a streak of wild, and a depth of passion that makes me a ridiculous romantic and the end result equates to an almost perfect balance for me.

So, why should any of this interest you? I share it now because it has taken me many years of getting it "wrong" to finally find the right combination of seasons that make life taste "just right", and honestly, I nearly gave up a thousand times at the prospect of ever being down-to-my-bones happy. For a long time, I didn't even think I deserved happiness, and that, mixed in with the tough stuff life has thrown my way, was nearly enough to squish every speck of joy from me. I almost gave up...but, I didn't. Being tenacious, even when I didn't want to be, has gotten me right where I always wanted to be. No, everything in my life isn't "perfect", but that doesn't matter so much anymore. I am right with my soul, focused on each day, and living a life fully awake and aware. If I can get here, so can you!

I stared up into the inky night, the camper bedroom black as pitch and more than a little cold (...the heater wasn't working properly and Mother Nature really didn't give a rat's patoot). But under the blankets, I was warm and sleepy, my mind replaying events of the day as the mountain stream we were parked next to gurgled and soothed. Over-heated engine, nearly two hours on the side of the road waiting to get it fixed, my husband dropping the camper hook-up on his toe, the camper nearly rolling into the woods (with me in it), and three trips "out" to buy supplies we didn't know we would need...not exactly a stellar beginning for the trip that had been meticulously planned. My eyes adjusted to the scraps of light provided by moonbeams seeking out spots and spaces beneath the dense mountain foliage of Spring. I found it impossible to be deterred from my enthusiasm regarding this trip. We were alive, safe and together, soon to be celebrating other family milestones surrounded by people we love. No matter what else went "wrong", everything felt precisely "right".

Life is going to throw roadblocks in the way. That is as certain as the acclaimed "death and taxes". I have absolutely zero control over what's going to come down the pike, be it joy or headache, smooth sailing or hurricane winds. What I can control is what I do about it and how I allow, or not, circumstances I cannot control to get me all wrapped around the axle. Those moonbeams reminded me of something my core already knows...if you can be just a little patient (...no easy task for me), the light will always find a way through darkness. Always! My last thought before falling asleep was, "Well, this didn't go as planned....but that's OK."  On Sunday, when the trip came to an end, I brought home with me various treasures both purchased and experienced. I also returned with my attitude firmly in check, my heart happy, and more blessings than I can count!

I vividly remember my "being bullied" experience as a child and I have learned over the years that most people have their own memories and stories to tell. My first encounter with a bully came around the time I hit puberty. My body began to change earlier than most of my classmates, which made me very popular for a brief time and then hormones peppered my face with acne (...thanks a lot, Mother Nature). That couple of years it took to work itself out was a bit of a nightmare If I'd been able to grow my hair to cover my face like cousin IT from the Adam's family, I totally would have. Thankfully, I grew out of that awkward phase. I don't know, however, if the people who treated me so badly about it, teasing me mercilessly, ever grew out of being jerks. Fortunately, a long time ago I also grew out of caring what they thought of me.

Let's face it, no matter how many laws are on the books about this kind of behaviour, it's going to happen. Parents, guardians and children everywhere must learn to deal with or neutralize this problem, and I know from first hand experience that it's not always easy to overcome (...worse now in this digital age, where everything you do and say could end up splashed across some form of social media). It is also not uncommon for adults to bully or be bullied. Our Fox 9 Station in the Charlotte area of North Carolina recently aired a story about teachers being bullied by students and feeling threatened nearly every day at work, a workplace problem certainly not limited to that area. Which brings me to my point...

Throughout his campaign, Donald Trump has shown himself to be an expert at bullying tactics. It is not unusual to hear him refer to a woman he doesn't like as "fat" or "ugly". He also frequently has nasty things to say about anyone who crosses or disagrees with him. To my mind, this type of behaviour reveals a deep rooted childishly immature streak to his character, as these tactics signal someone who cannot come up with an intelligent argument for their side of an issue. I cannot, in good conscience, vote for a man who may or may not call some leader from another nation a big "doody head". I want a leader who can actually handle adulting with class, dignity, and maturity. I want the very grown-up issues we face today to be attacked by someone qualified to do what is necessary to correct our problems, instead of someone who seems to look upon the rest of "us" with blatant disdain. "I am very rich," he frequently, laughingly says in soundbites, which translates to, "...and you are not. Don't you wish you were me and could do whatever you want?!" He backed away from the comment he made about the fact that he could "shoot someone and still get elected", touting that as a joke, but the very real underlying message from that "joke" was, "People are so stupid, I could get away with anything and they love me so much they'll elect me their leader." This, to me, is a giant red flag flying beneath the childish behaviour. It is the ego maniacal spoutings of a power hungry man who thinks he's untouchable. Historically speaking, these kinds of people did not bode well for a positive outcome.

So, what's a girl to do when she's fresh out of decent candidates for president, but feels as if her right to vote is a duty that should be honored? There's only one option left...come November, I'll do a write-in, because I'd cut my own hand off before I cast a vote for either Trump or Clinton. Voting for either of them would go against many of my fundamental beliefs and I'm just not going to do that. I will, however, respect those who see things differently than I do, even if I vehemently disagree with them. That's called "being an adult"! Someone should send the  Trump Camp a memo about that!

The closer we come to the November elections here in the United States, the more my News Feed on Facebook is exploding with political rhetoric. Frequently I ignore the more ostentatious claims about one candidate or another, but every now and then one catches my eye. I can't even tell you how totally irritated I become if I end up having to spend hours out of my day researching fact vs. fiction about a certain claim, so that by the time I get to the truth, no matter what it is, I'm already hoppin' mad at time wasted uncovering a pack of lies. This is not, in fact, much different from how I feel in general about liars and finding out the truths one way or another, that they've been spouting. Sooner or later, the truth always comes out. And the older I get, the less tolerance I have for even one lie told to me by someone I believed I could trust. This is true even if I love that person tremendously, which has been the case before. If I don't tolerate lies from people I love, you can be absolutely certain I wouldn't tolerate it from a total stranger.

 I don't need a whole lot of fancy political smoke and mirrors to determine the character of someone I may potentially vote for. People always have their tells that are impossible to hide (myself included, although lying isn't one of them in my case...nobody's perfect). As far as Presidential candidate Clinton is concerned, I knew all I needed to know about her when she lied, lied, lied and denied her personal e-mail server issue until there was too much evidence to dispute her claims. Then she pulled a "my bad, sorry about it" card and that was the end of that for me. People who do this for their own gains, or any reason really, are not people I would vote for, tolerate in my life, or trust in any way, shape, form or fashion. Period. Ever. While there are, perhaps, many other transgressions one could associate with her, I'm a "one and done" kind of girl.

Do I expect our candidates for office to be perfect? Absolutely not (...again, see my above comments about my own lack of perfection). Even though a "lying politician" has become a political joke and almost a given does not mean I accept it, nor do I think it's amusing. If you want to represent the "people", you don't have to be flawless, but to my mind, you do have to be genuine and have the moral character of a "decent human being". Liar automatically disqualifies you for the job.