NOT TODAY, PAL!

If you are like most humans, the concept of time travel is at the very least interesting, and at the most, INCREDIBLE! As a fan-girl of Marvel, Star Wars, Back to the Future, and Doctor Who (up through #12), the idea of traveling through time seems possible, while fantastical. If you have ever watched a show that infuses the concept of time travel, you will notice a common theme is that while traveling through space and time is wonderful and highly desired, it always includes problems that accompany the manipulating of time. The complications that arise through time travel can sometimes be "fixed" but the alteration pretty much always changes one or more of the outcomes. So time travel...I don't know if it's "playing God",  or just playing, but it gives me pause.

With David Tennant, the 10th Doctor on Doctor WHO

Most of the people that know me or know of me through this blog, know that I have lost a grandmother on both sides of my family, a father on both sides of my family, and a sibling on both sides as well. That's 6 people in the last 7 years...not including friends and other loved ones, as well as pets.  I know that doesn't make me special-people die every day and every death affects someone-usually many, many someones. I'm not looking for pity, just putting it out there that I understand loss.

I've said before that I am utterly and profoundly grateful that I have an eternal perspective. I know the people I have lost to death are safe and happy, and waiting to be reunited with me and others that they love and miss. This gives me comfort when I am mourning the absence of their physical selves in my life. There are times when I miss them more than usual. During an event we have experienced together, while hearing a song that reminds me of them, remembering special celebrations together, or while attending something that person has always been at with me... and now the loss of their presence makes it just a little less jovial than it would have been if they were there. I find normal, every day acts are the ones that hit me the hardest. A word, a smell, a phrase they would have used or appreciated. Their "favorite" swear word, the drink they loved most, the chair they used to sit in. Fireworks. Holidays. Dinners. Chores. Cars. The advice I need that only that person would have...my dad's favorite advice was, "Well pull your head out of your butt and do what you need to do!" (except he didn't say "butt"!)  😂😂 The fact remains that I miss my dad and my sister and my grandmother and those who have passed on the other side of the family as well. I wish life had Tivo so I could replay some of the wonderful memories I have with my loved ones. Heck. I would replay wonderful moments from my whole life with many people and places. But I think that's as far as I would go. Just re-living...not changing.

Alma

Daddy

Sasha

Blake

Grandma and Grandpa Pinson (with Quin in the middle)

Sarah and Robert Keil

Sarah Jane

Sophie

My dad and Sarah, his mother-in-law

I know that sounds strange. Though much of life is unexpected... and I am not one to think God sits up there and points his "death" finger at whomever He pleases, I know that everything in life has a purpose, and if it isn't apparent, it is up to us to find purpose in it. Senseless death is a hard one to grasp. Though it is not fair, it can't be changed-so I ask myself..."what are you going to take away from it?" Will to do better? Compassion for others? Empathy for those suffering and grieving? Lessons from the one who has passed? Pick one or find your own meaning in senseless things. I tend to think that's the only way we make it through them. I have spoken of the refiner's fire that I have been through for the past few years. Some of the hell that I have experienced I would wish on no other human being. But I like to think I am wiser, kinder, and more prepared for the latest round of shots to be fired into my life. If nothing else, I know I can weather them, because I have so far. I don't think I want to alter those things that I know and understand because of loss and tribulation. Of course I would rather not have to deal with the pain in the first place , but life is life, and if I must endure, I want to endure well.

Dad-and the ring I wear to remember him

The blue streak for dad too

The dime....

On another note, the old adage that "time heals all wounds", well...that just doesn't fly for me. I get the underlying sentiment. Time definitely places distance between you and the pain. There are detours, distractions, and the busy things in life that make it possible to think about more than just the pain. When grief first surfaces, it is so encompassing that it consumes every thought.  Then life~to our utter amazement ~goes on.  And then the most unexpected thing happens. We discover the luxury of being "busy people in a busy world" and funny enough, that takes the edge off the heartache. It never heals. It is ignored or tamped down or pushed to the back until we can learn to live with a whole new experience-never to be the same again. It becomes a new life. A new way of living with the pain, and if we accept this new way of living,  quite possibly helping someone through theirs.  I am grateful for that.

So time travel. Exciting? YES!!! Fantastical and amazing? Absolutely!! But changing the outcome...not my job. Not my right. Glimpses and memories of the past are good. I can't think too far into the future. So I will move forward one day at a time....living each day and trying to take something good from it even if it is painful. Happy for my gains....and I will be grateful.

Literary Devices

I'm gonna be honest with you here. I am 49 years old. I have struggled immensely during my lifetime to find the right path and figure out who I am, making copious mistakes along the way. By the time I hit 49, I was feeling pretty good about Heather. She is not bad. She's made it through things that other people would wither and die from. She is generous and eager to help. She builds things up. She rallies quickly. She loves intensely, seeing the good in everyone despite their actions. She finds the pieces of the souls of others that she feels God would see in them, and focuses on those instead of the less desirable traits every human employs. Though there are times Heather is made fun of and reprimanded for this habit of looking for good,  she feels that in the long run, the good outweighs the bad in these instances, and she'd rather see good in others-so that maybe they see it in her as well. She prays for that to happen. That anyone, especially the people she loves most will see the positive,  compassionate, good-feeling qualities in her-so that she can make a difference. She lives for sunshine and silver linings, and yearns to be a silver lining in anyone's life.

Yup, that's Heather

On a side-note here, I, Heather, have never understood the act of writing or speaking in third person. Even as an English major in college, third person writing always seemed like  a literary device that is  nonessential, making it irrelevant to a writer who wants to present emotion and value- therefore I have never felt the urge to use it. Writing is my only way of sorting out my emotions-and anyone that knows me knows that I don't think well on my feet. If I think of the right thing to say, it is well after the event is over, and then I doubt what I would have said anyway!  Ha ha!!! But over the past 6 weeks, I understand in a very personal way why authors choose to use this literary device. Sometimes things are so painful, that if you write them or speak them as someone else, it helps to get them out  in lesser utilized ways. You need a way to remove it enough from the heart to be able to convey your feelings about it, without falling apart in the process.  Third person helps you step away and view a situation without the emotional entanglements that can plague the author while trying to express deep or painful subject to the reader. I am now a believer.

Oh! I get it now!!

So back to Heather....after enduring the ups and downs that life has thrown at her, she was finally feeling she had reached a place where she could feel settled. A place of acceptance and peace, a place where she was comfortable with herself and who she was trying to be. A place where she was feeling security in her relationships and feeling acceptance from the people she loved. A place where she knew that the lessons she had learned had molded her into a better human.

And then the rug was pulled out from under her. Not only was it pulled out from under her...it was acquired with her in mind, set up to look beautiful, lulled her into comfort and euphoria, and then in a calculated move it was jerked so swiftly from under her feet that in one fell swoop, everything she thought she was went up like smoke, and she once again lost herself. Then she was told who she was. She was told what her intentions were. She was told she was a divider of people and that her own beliefs were not to be shared with others. For the life of her she could not make sense of any of it. How she got here. What had happened. How she had fooled herself into thinking she might be okay, and of use to someone else's life. She's broken again. But as wounded and weary as she is, she is determined to smile to the world through it all.

I, Heather, realize that this blog is about joy. It is about silver linings and breakthroughs, triumphs of the human spirit, and uplifting messages. So I will provide them, because I refuse to give in to the darkness. In this mess I have noted many things. So in no particular order, I'm going to tell you how I feel, what I have learned,  and how I am going to overcome this nightmare. I am resolute in my desire to provide light for myself and anyone who will accept it. Accept being the KEY word.

-Every human needs the chance to gain perspective. Sometimes it is very far removed from what your own perceptions are, but it is good to receive many views and move forward with as many pieces of the puzzle as you can find. I have reviewed every word over and over. I have perspective in abundance.

-Every human has things to work on to be a better person. I have located things for myself to work on. I have always been an open book, wearing my heart on my sleeve and offering it to others to wipe their tears and frustrations on. I will ALWAYS, ALWAYS have an open heart and I will NEVER, EVER stop loving. I am being a more careful person, but not changing my core.

-There will ALWAYS be people who will not accept what you have to offer. Don't stop giving just because your offers are not being received.

-Just because more than one person holds a certain view of you it doesn't mean EVERYONE holds that same view. There are people who DO know you. They have taken the time to know your heart and your intentions. Keep looking for perspective. Listen to the voices that know the real you.

-Regardless of the perceptions of others, I KNOW what I was sent to earth to do. I am ever certain of my task and I will carry out my charge with caution, but also with vigor.

-Even in the midst of the hardest things we endure, there are glimmers of light, tender mercies and small miracles all around us to give us hope and keep us moving....if we notice them.

-There are people all around who love you for who you are-just as you are. Surround yourself with those people while you build yourself back up. They are your miracles, your light-givers, your restoration of hope. I have mine. You know who you are. I love you. You save my life-you save my light. And I am grateful.

Believe You Are Lovely

#twentyonepilots

We all want this, right? To be lovely. For someone to think we are lovely, then make us believe that we are. I have put a lot of thought into this. I have said many times that I find it hard to think of myself as lovely. Kind? Pretty sure I'm good at that one. Thoughtful, I hope so. Happy? I sure try to be. Positive? Almost always. Fun? Most of the time. Witty? Rarely, though my Meghan says I am getting better. But beautiful? Pretty? Lovely???? Not often. I tend to think of lovely as the epitome of what a human should strive for because it not only points out physical beauty-it encompasses the beauty of the body, mind, spirit and soul-all culminating in the outward appearance of loveliness.  So maybe parts of me are lovely...

In general I like Heather. I have worked on her a long time. Heather has made many, many mistakes, and will continue to do so. Heather has learned a lot. Heather has tried to better herself in many ways. I have overcome mountains of obstacles, like many of my wonderful friends and counterparts. Yet there's that unattainable goal-to be considered lovely. Quite frankly, I have been yearning to be lovely my whole life. Sometimes this has resulted in producing the exact opposite outcome. In vying to be lovely for someone-for many, I have let myself be used and abused and taken advantage of-causing self-loathing and regret. Yet I am a firm believer that anything worthwhile takes work-and lots of it. So I continue to search and put in the time to find the right combination of qualities for me to consider myself lovely. 

Lately I feel this bothering my spirit more intensely. I don't know if it is because I am getting older and feel that any natural beauty I might have had is fading already. I don't know if the state of the world-and the wonder of how much longer it can go on-makes me a little frantic to make a lasting mark of some beauty for those behind me. My health scares me on a regular basis and I do stop and wonder what impression I will have left on this world...and I know it sounds vain, but I want to leave this world knowing somebody thought I was lovely-even for a moment. I have a constant drive to make sure others know they are lovely-in all ways. It's so easy for me to see in EVERYONE around me. But in myself, I am lacking. I am not so blind that I don't see the things that God has blessed me with. I count my blessings. My talents. My gifts-and I thank Him with my whole heart. I know I'm not ugly. I know I have graces and ways about me that are not hard to be around. But oh, to be lovely, and for me to love me...that I strive for. And I feel that others are striving for this as well. It seems that everywhere I turn-the radio, a talk in church, and article posted on social media, a post by a dear friend, so many of us find it easy to love others, but never think of loving ourselves. Why is it so hard?

I don't have the answer to that . I have an idea that comparison plays a huge part in self-doubt, but I also feel that we are our own worst critics. Comparison really is the thief of joy and robs us of potential. Think of all the things you could do if you believed fully in yourself. To feel truly lovely-I can hardly imagine-but I want to get there. It's entirely possible, but not easy. The catch is that no matter who you are, you have to find it in yourself to view yourself as lovely. Oh, there's help. People help. Those who love us and feed our souls with their love most certainly make a difference. Situations to use the gifts given to us by our maker can build like nothing else. Chances to see the loveliness placed inside us are all around. Notice them. The people around you sure do. Be the one coating those around you with kind, sincere words and truthful accolades. It all adds up. It builds them up, and works on your foundation too. Then it's up to you. Whether you believe in the devil, in evil, or just opposition of the universe, it's there, and it will most assuredly try to knock you down and make you think it can't be done. What better way to stop progression and good works than to fill the inhabitants of this world with self doubt? Don't be the next victim. You're more lovely than that. Find your beauty. Look for your own loveliness. It's allowed. It's okay. And you can do it over and over again. It's not a one time deal. You can look for it again and again, and keep finding more. It will actually do the rest of the world more good than you can imagine. If you get hung up for a minute, I'll help you see it. I WILL MAKE YOU BELIEVE YOU ARE LOVELY. Maybe you can help me see that I'm lovely too. We'll make a lovely world all together. And I will be grateful. 

Not Cool

Tell em, boys!

As humans we all get the opportunity to experience a wide range of emotions. In a lifetime,  a person can cycle through the entire gamut.  Joy, sadness,  pain, pleasure, guilt, elation, pride, empathy,  anger, fear, excitement , anticipation of both good and bad,  disappointment, approval, grief, despair, contentment.....the list goes on. I have already blogged about my least favorite of emotions-that being guilt. I'll say it as again. It's an utterly useless emotion.     https://paisleyglasses.blogspot.com/2018/03/guilt-trip.html

I have a rival in the running for least favorite emotion, and that is jealousy. Yuck. Another useless, damaging emotion. An ugly, messy emotion. It takes the best of people and turns them into unrecognizable beings. It pulls out any ugly lurking beneath the surface and exposes it in full. It solves nothing. It creates drama. It takes the human experience and turns it into something nasty and distasteful. Jealousy is the root of all evil, whether you start with Cain and Abel, or look at the jealousy paired with lust for power that has gone on during horrific events in the history of our world. Jealousy is always a player in taking down nations, breaking up families, and destroying friendships. It is truly evil.

I need to say right now that jealousy is a human, instinctive reaction that comes with the bundle of emotions we get to experience. We have all been there, though I feel the point is not to stay there. The damaging, though normal knee jerk reaction of being jealous needs to be harnessed quickly and replaced with either a reality check or a healthier emotion. The sooner the view is changed, the less poison that results from jealousy will be absorbed.

Some would argue that jealousy has a purpose because it exposes our protective nature and helps us defend what us ours. This is where we have to make the distinction. Jealousy and protectiveness, by definition, are NOT the same.
Never, for a moment, be fooled that jealousy equates with care.

Jealousy is mean. It's toxic and selfish. Jealousy is controlling. It holds no trust. It's demeaning and does not fulfill. It gives no reward. It eats away at heart and soul. It gives no ownership to the relationship and takes power away. It does not facilitate a trusting relationship. It is evil.

Love is protection. It HEALS and repairs. Love is patient. Love is kind. Love sees the best and embraces trust in the other party.  Love gives clarity. It gives purpose and ownership. It gives and doesn't take away. It is goodness and fulfillment. It is the joy every human searches for. Love is the bomb. It's the be all and end all of the human experience.

And just in case you have any questions...

Jealous adjective

Feeling resentment against someone because of that person's rivalry, success, or advantages

Feeling resentment because of another's success, advantage, etc

Characterized by or proceeding from suspicious fears or envious resentment

Inclined to or troubled by suspicions or fears of rivalry, unfaithfulness, etc. as in love or aims

Protective verb

Defending or guarding from attack, invasion, loss, annoyance, insult, etc., cover or shield from injury or danger, take care of ambitiously

I have waited a significant amount of time to post this. It has been nagging at me and rolling around in my head for years. It's time. I see jealousy ruining the lives of people I love, so I took the leap. Take it and chew on it a bit. Decide your own fate. Don't drink the poison. Love. Just love. And be grateful.

A Dime for your Time

If you know me, you know I am a collector. I have gone through spurts of various obsessions,
and at times have been known to hoard (just a little) the things I collect. The things I collect range from scrapbook supplies to snowmen to socks (I had three sisters and there were never enough matching socks) to books to candles. I absolutely love shoes and jackets and I never turn down a great pair of sweatpants. I wear earrings every day of my life so my earring collection is ever evolving. Some things are whimsical, some bring me comfort, and some are just practical. I have been teased many times for my gatherings of shampoo, hairspray, soap, and toothpaste...but those things have come in handy more than once during times that I could not get to the store or when we wanted to be a little more careful with our money. I have never had to worry about the necessities...because I had them stored away for a rainy (or hectic) day. I look at my rows of candles and lotions, and well, it's just beautiful.

#thecollector@Marvel

Aside from the essentials that I like to keep on hand, there are things I have procured that take special precedence over other things I possess. I have proclaimed more than once that some of my favorite collections are to be buried with me should I have to leave this earth before my family does. Though when I think further on this, I realize that these precious items should be left behind with the ones I love; and along with my treasures, the stories behind them.

No matter what I happen to be collecting in my life, having my little treasure troves tends to give me comfort. When I collected snowmen, it was because I wanted to remember there is still joy in the wintertime, even after Christmas has faded away. When I buy another candle, the scent can take me to anywhere in my memory that I associate with that scent. When I store away all my cleaners and toiletries, I know they will be there when I need them and I may even have some to share with another who is in need. Each thing brings me some kind of comfort.

The things that bring me more comfort than anything else are the things I associate with people.  I hold close reminders and tokens from or representing  important people in my life. When life gets challenging or my spirit is feeling broken, these special items restore order, calm, and a sense of self worth like nothing else can. They feed my soul.

My latest obsession is dimes. Let me tell you, they are harder to find than pennies. They hold a special place in my heart and fill me with hope each time I find one. I keep them in a beautiful china box that my grandmother hand-painted for me. This priceless piece was one of the things I wanted buried with me, but it is just too special to go into a box in the ground. Very few people know why I collect dimes, but everyone should know that there are times when finding a dime has literally saved my life. They appear out of nowhere and when I desperately need them. They show up when I am losing hope. They show up when I'm feeling lonely and afraid. They show up when I need to feel loved. They seriously materialize on the ground or on my desk or even on the playground and each time I pick one up, I am comforted and reassured that I am loved. Finding each dime is like finding a miracle-because each dime is found when I need it the most. I hope they show up in spades as long as I live.

I have mentioned before on my blog that I have a special box full of notes and mementos from people in my life. I have cards, well wishes, notes of affection and thanks, drawings and offerings of the heart. If I am experiencing an "I'm not enough" moment, I go to my box and am reminded of the people who do  think I'm enough, and have taken the time to tell me or show me. My spirit revives and takes on strength with each token of kindness that someone has granted me. I wholeheartedly believe that every person should do this for themselves. It's more than a box of feel-good. It's a treasure.

Moments of gratitude are something I collect with great intensity. I have filled 5 gratitude journals in the last 8 years and I treasure them. I try to list at least 3 things each day, whether big or small. As I leaf through each page, I can tell where I was in life, what I was dealing with, and how I kept goodness at the forefront. I remember all the good things I have been blessed with and how many times my loving God has sent me tender mercies and miracles-every day of my life. I count each one. I treasure each one.  And I am grateful.

WHY BOTHER

The urge to blog has been nipping at my heels for weeks now.  I quite enjoy  writing,  and authoring a blog is a wonderful processing tool for me-but each time I start a post, I rely heavily on inspiration to understand what it really is that I need to say. Though I concentrate to be able to relay critical thoughts in my brain, my processor is slow and sluggish. Maybe it's bogged down with too much input right now. I can't seem to focus on any one line of thought,  and it's making me worry. I feel like a pot that is boiling over; each thought rolling over into a hundred others, then evaporating like droplets of water landing on a hot stove. Little snippets and ideas come to the surface with such speed that I can't define them before they are gone again. I cannot gather my thoughts and emotions into any cohesive arrangement, so as I struggle to articulate the reflections of my heart and mind, I worry that maybe there is just nothing left for me to say. That scares me. I feel I am just beginning to find my voice. It can't be over yet, can it? I want to make a difference. I want to  give perspective. I want to help the world understand that the little things matter, that love can save the world, and that there is always, always hope.

I have always been quiet. It is only in recent years that I have been able to put my innermost feelings and opinions out into the world-and I know my blog has helped to open that door. I knew exactly when I needed to start my blog, and I knew why. I began with only a few views. While I do not write for numbers, I admit that each time I see another one of my blogs has been viewed, I always hope that a heart has been touched. I feel I write much better than I speak.

But now, I feel I can't write either. Does that mean I have used up my purpose in writing?  Is my ability to affect the hearts and minds of the people out there obsolete?  Do I make a difference? Is my desire to share my love not worth the time anymore? Am I too repetitious in the things that I say? I don't know. I just don't know. And I think to myself....why bother?


Then I remember. I remember my promises. I remember my mission. I remember my job...my purpose....to spread love and light. My readership is down. I have a hard time finding time and energy to put out a blog. I wonder who I reach, or if I reach anyone at all. But I said I would do it. If I touch one person-just to make that person smile, or feel understood, or give them strength to go on...it's worth it.  It's worth it to me-whether anyone else wants to know what I have  to say or not. It helps ME to go on. It helps me to process. It makes me feel like I have made the effort to do my part. I do it with love.

The thing that helps me the most is that whenever I begin to doubt my responsibility, I  ALWAYS recieve confirmation that someone needed to hear what I was prompted to say. A note, a comment, a text or re-post...somehow I am blessed with reassurance from another soul. I can't tell you what that does for a self-doubter like me! It changes the game every time. I have said before that I listen to heaven and listen to my heart to know what to write about. It delights me to the core when I get feedback that I was a good listener-that I followed the prompting and it made a difference to someone. Anyone.

So, as usual, I am grateful. Grateful for affirmations, for promptings, and for ability to follow through. I am grateful that I am spurred on to "bother" with the things I do, and that there are people who actually care enough to listen. I am grateful as well that regardless of who reads my words, I always gain something from writing them. Perspective, insight, love for mankind, acknowledgement of blessings, and reassurance of my purpose. Most of all, I am grateful for you. You, the reader. You, who gives me reason to bother. You, who support me. You, who love me. Thank you. Yes. I am grateful.