I encourage you my lovely sisters and fine brothers to take some time out of your blogging day to visit her blog and check out what she has going on. Trust me that you’ll be inspired, you’ll laugh, you’ll learn, and you may even cry. You will be reading an authentic soul writing what is real and honest in her world.
I am not one for reposting or reblogging a lot and having made what I considered months ago a firm stand to not reblog or repost. I have obviously seen the error of my ways. There are too many talented authors and creative souls here at WP to not once in a while celebrate a blogger who touches me. I am celebrating my friend and advisor Mushy Cloud. This talented and amazing blogger is someone who has the most positiveand upliftingattitude towards life that she inspires my own creative wings to keep right on soaring.
This is the kind of image, expression, adage, or affirmation that I look for to bring in to my life. I believe having words and messages around us like this one are vital to good emotional health. Gentle reminders that help keep me grounded and reminding me that our lives can see so much more if we just open our selves to faith. Faith that the more I learn, the more I absorb, the more often I remove blinders, the richer and brighter my own small world will be. The idea of being purposeful when creating in ethical terms is not something I had put two and two together about. Of course I want my work to be ethical, to be completely mine, and something that I would not be ashamed to show my two daughters. Enjoying what I create is easy for me. This one I’m on board with all ready. My creativity, my writing, my art, this is what helps keeps me sane and on an even keel when dealing with a life of chronic illness that fights every day to take over. By being creative I fight back, by learning something new I am fighting back. By writing everyday I am fighting back. I fight back every day and bloggers that post such incredibly powerful messages such as this help me keep that good fight going. I’m enjoying every minute of it. When I have not been able to be creative in some way I find myself craving to do so, and if there is something in my way I am finding that I tend to get grumpy, surly that I am not able to sit at my art table, or work on my laptop. I have to snap myself and remember that its not always about moi. I know I have probably said it before, no doubt have written about it before; I need these creative outlets. They are part of my treatment modalities. They are part of my life. They are part of me.
Thank you my friend at Mushy Cloud. You keep on creating and keep on advising (even though you have no clue what so ever that I take this as advice) and you keep on staying in touch with life through your words. You have so much to share! I look forward to being inspired through your blog and your words for some time.
Not sure when this actually happened, or really why it happened. I just found it today and I am still learning that sometimes it is just because.
Starting my day out with an award from a blogging buddy who I am always amazed by. What he shares on his blog is a pretty cool way to begin any day. His fabulous and moving art, his provocative and tellings shares, his funny stories, and quite possibly the most endearing aspect I find is his rebel ways.
THIS AWARD COMING FROM STRANGE TRIP TIMES IS REALLY WHAT IS INSPIRING. I CANNOT THANK HIM ENOUGH FOR THIS KIND AND GENTLE SHOW OF SUPPORT. YOU ARE ONE CRAZY & INSPIRING HAPPY HIPPIE DUDE WHOSE WRITINGS AND ART SPEAKS TO THIS PURPOSEFUL HAPPY HIPPIE CHIC~QUITE OFTEN WE HAPPEN TO SPEAK THE SAME LANGUAGE~
This blogger has blown me away with his art to be sure, which I happen to find to my taste. Once I started reading his posts I discovered a guy who is not afraid to be in touch with what he feels. I know this not because I know him personally; I know it because his writing tells his readers what he’s thinking and how he is feeling about those thoughts. I find this rare for the gents in my generation to share like this. When I read his posts they either reach a place in the heart or mind, or he will post something that is a funny and that gives me a good belly laugh. And.. I find his rebellious statements about life and the world incredibly thought-provoking. I have to remind myself that this is a man of my own world, a Baby Boomer. I have to remind myself that this is not a man of Hemingway’s world. I think that you would find his blog fascinating, His is one of the first blogs I started to follow as a newbie to blogging.
Now on to the award. I am supposed to reveal seven (why seven I wonder) things about myself and then also nominate 10 to 12 others. I liked the way that my Awarder presented his requirements. Neat and tidy, to the point. I so wish sometimes that I was organized in that way. But it’s my reality that I’m coming to terms with that I am not comfortable unless I have a bt of clutter. Piles of books, magazines, art supplies, yarn and crocheted projects all help to allow my safe being to be in place. OH! ..Oh…I could have used that as one of the seven things to reveal about myself . I’ll never have a tidy desk, and I’ll always write hundreds of more words than I really may need to. I’ll not ever create a tidy and neat post that is well-organized, that is not who I am,. Despite that I admire this so much in others.
Awarding others is bittersweet. I want to name you all and having to choose is painful. I follow these blogs for good reasons, not just because I can. If you find that you have not visited any of these Blogs that I name here I have to say I think you’re missing out. Drop by and have a look-see, I think you’ll find some really talented people from all walks of life, and from all over this wide world.
To these bloggers that I recognize here today please know that it is indeed done so in the spirit of finding inspiration from you and your blogs. This kind of inspiration is what helps set our own creative wings soaring. Thank you for that today, and for everyday knowing that we are just one click away from finding absolute inspiration.
I am awarding each and every one of the Blogs that I follow on a regular basis along with these mentioned. Please know that if your blog name is not listed it is not because you are not deserving. In most cases I think I am doing you a favor by not having you repeat the same awards, over & over again. And then there are some of you for reasons of your own who openly accept the acknowledgement but they have reasons for not participating. Good reasons, and not meant to slight any award or awardees. Other wise all your names would be added here,
CONGRATULAIONS TO EACH AND EVERY BLOGGER THAT I FOLLOW. YOU ALL ARE OUTSTANDING AND TALENTED PEOPLE WHO DESERVE THIS AWARD.
Seven Self Reveals:
I am also going to try to adopt the style of participation that the blogger who awarded me used. I actually find that this is done in the name of Inspiration. He has inspired me to be more raw and real with my own reveal. Kind of scary……..
So Cheers to my Inspiring Blogger who has indeed inspired me to be real, and to be raw.
I am survivor and thriver of childhood sexual abuse.
I sadly have the tendency to be judgemental of parents who let someone else raise their children.
My mother, father, both maternal and paternal grandparents drank to the point if it becoming a disease in them.
I do not drink
I grew up in a chaotic and violent home.
I left home and was on my own at age 15
I am happily married to the best man this Baroness could ever have hoped for. My Baron, the father of our two daughters. They, who were the minority in the school regarding parental relationships. Our girls had parent’s that had chosen to be together forever, and as best friends. Our home is a happy home still 42 years later. Today they still think that it’s pretty cool.
The moral to this is that you do not have to become that which you came from.
My broken home as a child was a teaching ground for me while I was there. I knew exactly what I did not want my life as an adult to become. I did not have a choice as a child. As an adult, albeit an emancipated one at age 15, I had a choice. And I was and still am living by my choice.
I’m breaking my time out from writing to say that I salute the victims who had the courage to come forward, to testify, and to stand by in solidarity waiting for a verdict. Your bravery to let your secret’s out are having impacts this very minute on victims who have not had the courage to speak ut. You have empowered!
My prayers are that these young men will find the paths needed for recovery start soon. Those of us who are victims who are now thriving know what a long road this haul can take. My hope, prayer’s, and wishes, are for these gentlemen to find these verdicts as just the beginning.
After thinking a lot about an affectionate suggestion from a friend who knows I am dealing with a writer’s block I have decided to take heed.
This lady is going for a walk, barefoot on the cool forest floor. I am taking some reading material with me and am planning on using the quiet to read and think. I am not writing. Although I have a few drafts saved of pieces that came across my mind in fleeting moments, I am opting to set back and let them and all writing thoughts take a nap.
They need it.
I have not taken off for good, just a few days in the forest to clear my mind of all the fussiness that has been going of late. I just need you to know I WILL BE BACK. This Barefoot Baroness just needs a break.
So please don’t desert me. I would miss you all too much. I look forward to getting caught up on your blogs during this time, so though I will not be posting for a few days I will be seeing you on your own blogs.
I look forward to meeting up with you there on your blogs, I am wishing you all days of delight, with much love and laughter that fill those days and nights.
This has been bothering for some time, since I heard about it the same time I’m sure that you did. But I tried to bury my head in the sand after the initial reports, They were becoming too graffic for me.
I tryto keep my head and heart open at all times. Never jumping to conclusions. Or I should say I try to not jump too high if I do jump at all. So hearing the news about this coach who I knew nothing about should not have had any affect on me. I should not have been so willing to jump on the band wagon that he is guilty of all the allegations we have heard. I’d like to be able to say that this was what I did. But you know better now I am assuming, by what I write.
I am a survivor and thriver of childhood sexual abuse. I have strong feelings about anything to do with this subject. I try not to, but it has been impossible. I have decided that to remain quiet on an issue that I have such strong feelings for, feelings regarding sexual abuse of any child is not doable for me. I am a child advocate, and I should speak out on national and international topics that involve this subject that also sadly is close to my own heart.
I’d like to declare this strange man guilty and have it be done and over. But who am I? I think even the victims wish this could be over, already! But I am also a court officeras a CASA and to not support a system that although I know has some flaws but that I still believe in would be wrong. So I support Sandusky‘s right to a fair trial. We will not even get into whether or not I believe he will receive a fair trial in the Penn State community or not. How many of those folks are life long Penna fans? There are six jururs that have connections to Penn State. I have a very good friends who are from PA and they know this community well. I just do not see how an impartial jury was struck, but everyone involved seemed to believe it was fine. Hopefully if he is convicted this will not show up as defensible on appeal.
Listening to reported accounts of the victim’s testimonies was hard. Really hard. I am not sure I could have listened to it had the trial been allowed to have cameras in the court room. PA state law prohibits cameras in the courtroom unlike other states such as Florida that have an open policy. I am a trail junkie and watching live court trials is a fave past time of mine. I love it like a sport. The defense and the state as opposing teams, the judge as the referee. The sparring back and forth between attorneys and witnesses is exciting for me. I also read true crime, courtroom fiction, and true stories of actual events, and the trials resulting. But I don’t do child abuse. I have had enough of childhood sexual abuse to last me a life time,
But it still happens. Every day a child is being sexually abused either by someone they know or by a stranger. Society was reluctant to deal with child sexual abuse a few decades ago. I was sexually abused before that time line that society set, and sadly even though telling is part of my story it did not one bit of good for me. And the really frightening aspect of my case that has always bothered me almost as much as the actual abuse, is that my family was aware of my paternal grandfather’s history. His propensity. Me telling was never taken serious. Today, though most reports and claims are taken and considered a serious issue. It is difficult to determine how often child sexual abuse occurs, because it is more secret than physical abuse. Children are often scared to tell anyone about the abuse. Will they even be believed? Many cases of abuse are not reported. Mine was not.
This is not the best we can do for our children in this country. In this world. I know this to be sure. It saddens me to know that nothing has changed that I am aware of for over 50 yrs. And we know that there is history of childhood abuse, including sexual abuse for much, much longer than 50 years. I’m frankly sickened by it.
I have been watching as much about this trial as I can stomach. This is something I am able to do only because the information is coming to me 3rd party. I do not have to listen first hand via a camera and microphone to these young men’s testimony in the Sandusky case. My reaction to what I heard is that this so-called man is guilty. I have to say that my verdict is one made from news reports so I would not sit on it without debate. But had this come to me from watching the full trial on my own I am determined my opinion would be the same. I have not wavered from my position since I first heard about the allegations.
Today the defense rested without Sandusky testifying, this only after we have all been on pins for a few days waiting to see. The gossip says that Sandusky wanted to testify. I am sure he did. He no doubt thinks he can manipulate every person within hearing distance that he is a good man, gives back to his community, and even though he admits to liking children, liking to touch them, he is innocent of all charges.
I am even unable to find the right key with my fingers, each finger feels like two, I am unable to even find words. Me! And now I cannot even find a title for this piece that I am also not even sure I can execute.
Something should be forth coming from this brain of mine to my fingers, whether they are typing or using my favorite pen. I should be able to come up with what it is I want to write about, or what I want to say in my ongoing project. But it’s not happening and I have no clue why. Most of the times this has happened it’s been explained away by myself, to myself. This time I am stumped. And I am stuck. I am so stuck I cannot even find inspiration to create a title for this.
I need to be able to write. I know getting stressed about not being able to find words is not helping. And that just letting it go is what I should be doing. Like walking away from the project that is not going well. Getting a clearer perspective. And it feels like on many cross roads that there is a force working against me. I cannot even keep my font on the same style or color to save my life. I’m sure it is because my laptop and WP have not been shut down for the last 36 hours. Tired laptop or WP, which I am not sure.Tired operator maybe? I don’t know.
But I keep telling myself that being tired is not going to be my excuse. It can’t. If that is the case than being tired is going to get in my way too often. I cannot afford to let getting tired matter. I have too much I am interested in doing. It’s not even about having TOO MUCH TO DO, it really isn’t. The idea that I am passionate about so many things and not being able to do them because I am tired does not thrill me. Though it may be a reality of mine it does not have to be one I settle for. I have the freedom and choice to make my reality change alter my reality from what it tends to want to be.
My choice to use the time that I am given by God, and by medicine to use for the people and the things that I am deliriously passionate about is what I cannot afford TIRED for. NOT finding TIME; or in my case most often not finding “The Spoons” necessary to succeed this leaves me feeling deeply saddened. By that which I am not able visit my passions wears on me. I’m wondering if that is what is bothering me, why I am finding myself at this block. I need to express myself in some way almost daily. Either through my mind with words, or through my hands in creating something that can be touched. I need these outlets like I need water and sunlight. I am not meaning to be dramatic, just needing to find a path back to where ever my creative wings were dropped.
Finding myself without words is unsettling. I know, you find it unsettling too that you are finding me say that I am wordless. People that know me are going to be laughing at the mere suggestion of this. I am really good about filling pages with idle chatter and maybe there will be a good topic and some common sense in amongst what I chatted about. This being at a loss for words is not the norm for me. But I could move past that.
While not finding the words was leaving me feel a bit unsettled as I said I thought that since, especially since, my cool husband had shined on the fact that I had art supplies all around my LazyBoy that it would be appropriate to try working on a greeting card. I had elements I’d made sitting aside for one that I had left unfinished before my cervical procedure. So I thought a piece of cake right? Despite orders from medical headquarters, to not us my arms away from my body for the 6 weeks of healing post the cervical procedure. It’s hard to be creative with your hands while holding your arms next to your body. Holding your arms next to your body is not hard, it’s the natural pose you want to strike while guarding that which hurts. But that which had been hurting wasn’t hurting as much so my thinking was Cool! I can work at my table for a bit.
Making a card is what I wanted to do. I did it. It turned out fine. I did not turn out fine so much the next day. I woke up unable to move not just my left arm and shoulder, but my right shoulder opted to join in the revolt. They were ticked off at me!
I had a great time making the card. It’s one of my passions. It feeds me in ways nothing else can. Much like writing does. I have been stuck for words it feels like for much too long. I am hoping the card making session will unleash creative flow for my writing passion as well.
Ironically I am finding that several people I know are dealing with a very similar problem. Their creative wings have been clipped as mine seemed to have been. But then that is the most wonderful thing about your wings just clipped. They grow back nice and strong with your flight wings firmly intact and stronger than evet before.