Connections

Connections. True connections are so very rare. You may think you have found one only to see the light a week, a month or even years later. Finding someone with the same mind set as you is a beautiful gift that too often we don't receive. People don't open up fully. You may think they have. Hell, maybe you think you have... but did they really? Did you? Just knowing someone is different than understanding someone. Understanding is deeper than knowledge. There are many people who you know but there are very few who really know you. I think it is impossible for someone to know me the way I know me. I honestly think that throughout your entire life no one will know you the way you know yourself. It's impossible. Others - no matter what you think the connection may be - can not and often do not even try to get into the corners of your mind. The corners where you often wander off to when you are alone. People are lazy when it comes to getting to know some one inside and out. Maybe it's just me..maybe I am too complex but I feel like I am made of little rooms full of thoughts, emotions and memories. You cannot define me by listening to me once. You have to dig deeper and those who don't take the time to, those who give up, well, they no longer occupy one of those rooms. I am very picky who I give my thoughts and time to and it is usually to those who reflect sincerity.

Full Of Feelings

“Mommy what’s wrong?” My back was turned. “How does she know I’m upset?” I thought, even though I knew the answer.  She sensed my sadness, she always does.

I don’t lie to my daughter. When I’m sad, happy, angry or frustrated I show it. I tell her the truth because I want her to always feel secure to express herself without fear of being told her emotions are invalid, irrational or insignificant.

So I replied, “Mommy’s feelings are hurt today honey. My heart is sad.”

“I know how that is Mommy, my feelings get hurt a lot.”

She paused, wiping her warm little hands up and down my back, “Mommy, it’s so hard being a nice person.”  

I never thought of it this way, but it’s true. Being nice, loving and willing to open my heart to the people around me, makes me susceptible to pain.

At the tender age of six my daughter has already learned this lesson. She and I are cut from the same cloth. We are highly sensitive, emotionally expressive, moody, compassionate, nurturing beings.

We feel more than we think.

This is a blessing and a curse. It allows us to understand people and see things others don’t. However, when we remove the shield we become vulnerable and in this vulnerability we can be hurt.

I’ve battled my bleeding heart for my entire life. I don’t want to anymore. I love that I can touch my emotions, delve into them, experience them and move forward. I can sense other people’s emotions too, as if they were my own. Slowly, I am learning how to keep myself protected while I remain exposed and empathetic.

When I interact with others I feel them without words, so does my daughter, she did it tonight and she was right, I was sad. Being a mother to Stori has allowed me to love her in the way I’ve always needed and wanted to be loved. I honor how she feels and I reassure her that her feelings are important. She, just like me needs extra time to process her emotions, whether she asks for alone time or she wants to talk it out. I nurture her in the way she is asking to be loved, whether it is through tears, screams or silence.

She needs extra affection, it helps her feel safe. Most of all, I celebrate her sensitivity because it is a gift. She is on this Earth to love with all her might.

Loving someone with a huge heart is not always easy because they need a lot from you but feel blessed because you hit the karmic jackpot. Who better to love and support than someone who lives to love you back, completely.

Every time I dive into my head,

I can’t seem to make it heard or said.

See, the feelings keep dripping from my heart,

Cause it’s the only way I know to live my art.

There’s always a trade to be made,

Every decision keeps me saved.

Sometimes it causes strife,

Cause I refuse to cut the emotions outta my life.

Either love me fully or let me go.

I don’t have time to be a ghost.

I took off the sheet when I realized,

It’s the only way to stay alive.

Next time I cry,

Next time I scream

Hold me close,

Please don’t leave.

Just keep me open,

So I can bleed.

This is how to love the life I lead.

Agape

Many people don't know that there are 4 different types of love.

Éros is "physical" passionate love, with sensual desire and longing. Romantic, pure emotion without the balance of logic. "Love at first sight".

Philia is "mental" love. It means affectionate regard or friendship. This type of love has give and take. It is a dispassionate virtuous love.  It includes loyalty to friends, family, and community, and requires virtue, equality and familiarity.

Storge means "affection" in ancient and modern Greek. It is natural affection, like that felt by parents for offspring and then almost exclusively as a descriptor of relationships within the family. It is also known to express mere acceptance or putting up with situations, as in "loving" the tyrant.

And the strongest love of all:

Agape. Love that is without expectations of return, unconditional, selfless love. The love Jesus had for us when he suffered and died on the cross for us. The love he felt while carrying his cross, and stopped to console the women. This is the love we strive for: the kind a parent has for their newborn baby in the middle of the night...every night . When you love someone so strongly you put their happiness before yours.That is agape.

Pain

There are lots of kinds of pain.

Pain of a broken heart, pain from loneliness, the type of pain you get from smashing your fingers in a car door, there are pains from cancer, pains of loosing a baby, pain of burning your hand on the stove.

But in their own little ways, no matter how small, these pains are all agonizing. Which is sad, and yet, happy, if you really think about it.

If we never got a flat tire, or failed a test, or had a bad hair day, what kind of people would we be?........ boring.

We wouldn't be passionate; we wouldn't know it was exciting to get pregnant, or score an A on a final. So that's why in many ways I am grateful for pain.

Pain is part of what makes me the crazy, jaded, person that I am.

I Write

Do I write simply because I need to write, or because I hope someone will listen?

Do I write because writing will mend something broken inside me, or do I write to get things out of my head to make room for new?

I write when I'm happy.

I write when I am sad but tonight I write because I ache.

Not like the ache from applying pressure to a bruise; watching the colors of it change from purple to blue to green.

It's the aching from loneliness.

So I write.

I write to handle the loneliness or the loneliness will handle me.

-Sami

Tell Me, What Makes You Cry?

Admit it...You aren't like them...not even close. You may occasionally act like one of them, dress like them, watch reality T.V. shows like them and even eat fast food sometimes just.like.them. But the more you try to fit in, the more you try to be like the "normal" people the more you feel like an outsider. Every time you say something cliche like, "Some weather we're having, eh?" Or, "How are you today? you yearn inside to ask something deeper, something more. Like, "Tell me something that makes you cry" or "Do you believe in fate?" You want to ask these things but something holds you back. Fear? Embarrassment maybe? Maybe you should take that chance and say what you feel. Who knows who you might connect with. Who else might be like you. EVERYONE carries a piece of the puzzle. We meet no one by mistake. Be brave. Do the unexpected. Find the others.

Growing Up

I think growing up means learning what life is. When you're little, you have all these ideas of how it should be. Standards, plans, outlooks and you think that if you just sit around and wait for them to happen to you  life will just work out. But life isn't like that, for anybody; you can't fall in love with a standard, you have to fall in love with a person.  You can't wait for your plans to materialize, because they may never materialize the way you think they will. You can't wait to watch your ideas and standards walk up to you, because you can't know what's yours until you have it. 

I always say, always take the first chance in case you never get a second one, but growing up takes that even one step further, growing up means that you have to hold on to what you have, when you have it, because what you have- that's yours- and all the ideals and criteria you have set in your head, those aren't yours, because those haven't happened to you and may never.