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Oh Heavenly Day…

14 Comments 14 May 2010

Oh Heavenly Day, those are the words to Patty Griffin’s song, from her album, Children Running Through, the song that rings through the video that my beautiful fifteen-year-old made for me for Mother’s day.  I was and still am really overwhelmed.  I wrote a couple of days a go a post about going “back to the future” so that you all could better understand who I am and so that you might have a context within to place the me that you will come to know on this blog.  This is a perfect piece to that puzzle. (TO SEE THE VIDEO – CLICK THIS POST TITLE)

My daughter gave me a letter and an eight minute video that I will truly treasure forever.  I was humbled.  The video took be back, made me cry, made me laugh and reminded me how full my life has been and still is because of my children.  Her letter, gave me a glimpse into her heart and assured me that I have given her good things with which to fill it, in spite of my failures as a mother.

I know I have failed in many ways as a mother, we all do.  I know I have fallen short, yelled too much, been selfish when I should have been self-less, gotten angry when I should have been patient, and given her many other opportunities to see my flaws.  However, I was reminded yesterday, again, that love covers a multitude of shortcomings!  My daughter’s video reminded me that I am loved, in spite of all of my short-comings as a mother and she let me know that I have let her know that she is loved, no matter her short-comings.

It is a powerful thing to be loved, just as you are.  When I look at my precious baby girl, the one the world sees as “retarded” and “not normal,” I think to myself, who could not love this child, just as she is?

I am a woman of deep faith and I believe I am loved perfectly by a God who knows all of my flaws, even the ones that my children know nothing about.  It is a beautiful thing to be loved.  I hope you were loved well or had the opportunity to love someone well.

Choose to love someone well today.  It is never too late to begin a new song in your family…to love your children, your siblings, your mother, your aunt, your friend or whomever – just as they are!

It was a heavenly day.  I would love to share with you my Mother’s Day…Mothers Day Video by Jorja White

Soundtrack to my life

6 Comments 14 May 2010

Do you feel like you could tell your life story with a list of songs?  I am a huge music fan and particularly a fan of singer/songwriters like Patty Griffin,

katie prentiss photography

Mindy Smith, Sheryl Crow, Emmylou Harris, KT Tunstall, Shawn Colvin, Buddy Miller and other folks.  I love all kinds of music and I think different songs ring out in my head when I think about different times in my life.

Of course I get a bit anal when I start to write something like this down and try to actually think in some type of order, but I just wanted to put a couple of songs out there that are huge to me, songs that still…every single time I hear them, make sense to me like nothing else does.  They make sense of my life, they resonate in my soul and they help me remember.  Remember?

They help me remember that my story is part of a bigger story, that is is all tied together, with my family, my friends, my community and ultimately with the world around me…with all of humanity.  That we all suffer heartache and we all experience joy.  They make me remember those who walk this road with me and make my load lighter.

Here is one of those songs, KT Tunstall’s, Heal Over, from her album, Eye to the Telescope.

Looking Back – A Different Lens

2 Comments 13 May 2010

You can take the girl outta the small town…, or so the saying goes, but you can’t take the small town outta the girl?  Who the hell knows what that means, but it sounded clever to start this little post.  To say I was born and raised in small town U.S.A. is no understatement.  It was small and I was conspicuous, but not always for the best reasons.  I would not say it was like being a big fish in a little bowl as much as I would say it was like being a fish out of water.  My first couple of decades offered me a multitude of experiences that at the time, told me where I didn’t belong, however, looking back with a different lens, they were part of shaping who I would become.img_1042

I seemed to find trouble, or it found me on a regular basis.  It wasn’t that I wasn’t raised well.  My parents drug us to the First Baptist Church in town at every opportunity, although for years I never knew that the service started before the part where they take up the money.  I found out later that was the midway point of the service, but my family was perpetually late and therefore, perpetually unhappy by the time we made our always infamous entrance. I wanted to be good, do what was right and I found myself living in a perpetual cycle of trouble, fear, guilt and what I like to call campfire redemption.

In my family, there were three of us kids, I was smack dab in the middle, with an older sister and a younger brother.  My sister was was blond with blue eyes and my brother was brown with blue eyes and me, well, i was just plain ol’ brown with brown eyes.  (Kinda like Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day)  My sister was a pretty cheerleader and my little brother was a cute baseball player and well, and me…I was…skinny with a bad shag hair-cut from Fantastic Sam’s.

Ok, I know skinny is oh so popular now, but, when I say skinny, I mean skinny like turn sideways and disappear skinny, like snap you like a twig skinny, like kate moss would wanna be my bff skinny, you get my drift, huh?  But this kind of skinny, in the late seventies and early eighties, in small town Mississippi only brought me pain and suffering, not a modeling contract from Elle or Glamour.

I tried to follow in my sister’s footsteps and dance my way onto the Drill Team, but when I couldn’t do the “rock” to Funky Town it all went to hell in a handbasket.  I then unsuccessfully tried to be a cheerleader and finally ended-up playing basketball and running track.  I did love softball, and I am a hellava team player, but no “SuperStar” status for me.

So what becomes of a girl who grows up failing, skinny and filled with religion in the South?  Well, she learns a lot about the world in that small town.  She learns that the world is big and she wants to be out in it.  She learns what pain feels like at very young age.  She learns that guilt is a heavy load to bear and one that is very difficult to unload.

I also learned, for better or for worse, how to be independent.  This lesson came with great pain and heartache at times, as those who I thought were my confidants failed to be so.  However, just as a broken bone is stronger in the spot where it heals than it was before it was broken, so I too believe those painful spots in my childhood and youth serve even today as platforms for me to love and give and be who I am meant to be.

I was treated very poorly by boys when I was younger.  That skinny girl was an easy mark for cruel boys and their remarks about boobies and bras and any other gender jokes.  At the time, their words, their sneers and their laughter seemed a nightmare of which I could find no possible end.  However, as I stumbled along, watching my girlfriends, my sister and other girls in general getting the “positive” attention of these same boys, I learned a great deal.

Of course I didn’t see these things, or I certainly wasn’t aware of it, back then, but looking back, I see things through a different lens.  I was affected by what I observed and it shaped me.  There was something deep inside my little soul that was born from those years.  It gave me the fortitude on many occasion to steer clear of bad relationships later on in life.   But it also grew in me a deep sense of loyalty to my friends, to those I loved and to those who loved me.

I have said in other spots on this blog that I am an EMPOWER-er.  I don’t think that is a silly thing.  I think it was born in me in those early years.  The seeds of empathy were planted during showers of middle school tears and they began to grow.  I am fierce about fighting for those I love.  Yes, there are always obstacles to overcome from our pasts, failings to put behind us, un-teaching to be done in our minds, but we must look back with a lens that allows us to see the lovely things that end up growing in even the most desolate spots.

Back to the Future

2 Comments 08 May 2010

I feel like I need to go back before I can go forward.  I haven’t ever done a blog before and there are some things you should know about me before we move on in this relationship.  That is what I feel like it is, just so you know.  Because I believe we are in a relationship, I really feel like we are starting in the middle and that feels, well, as my best friend’s 7th grader says, “AWKWARD!”  So, I am going to go back and tell you about the past so we can move on to the future.

I am going to write a series of posts that will be, well, “My Life in 20 Posts or Less.”  If that sounds really boring or way too personal to you, then you may come back in say, two weeks and start reading again, but I just can’t get past this weird feeling that we are relating in this vacuum.  We need a context.  We need a history.

I truly believe that we all have a story to tell and when we take time to think through our story we really can begin to better understand where we have come from and learn who we are.  I also believe that when we listen to each other’s stories, although they are each different, there are themes or threads that run through each story that remind us of our own.

When this resonance happens, it both connects us with our own story in a deeper way, helping us to understand ourselves more fully and it connects us with the storyteller as well, creating a communing over the common thread or theme.  Our stories are powerful for both building community and for developing a fuller and more meaningful understanding of our lives, our souls, our person.27chicago

Okay, okay, enough about story, what about mine?  I won’t drone on and on with all the details, but I will cover some highlights that I think have shaped and scarred, some low-lights that have fanned the flames of adversity and forged the metal of my character (yes, I do have character) and a few funny stories that paint a picture of how I ended up writing this blog.

By the end of it all, I hope you and I will be better aquainted and you will still want to hang around.  At least I will know that you have a backdrop in which to place the crazy things I say and a past from which to translate the present of who I am.

That being said, let’s go back…so we can move on to the future!


6 Comments 06 May 2010

I  mentioned on my About Jorja page that my youngest daughter is mentally handicapped.  She is quite a character and she can come up with some very clever little statements.  She has these little odd rituals that she goes through each day and one of them, when she gets home from school is to “do projects.”  Translation, destroy my dining room.

Another member of my family is a Goldendoodle named Sully, whom we brought into our family to be this particular child’s companion dog.  Well, let’s just say that I have dropped the ball on training Sully, because, of course, all of the freaking balls in my family are juggled by me, therefore, I am the one who has dropped it.

Sully likes to “help” my daughter with her “projects” by irritating the hell out of her and one day she says to me, “Mom, I need to be lonely.”  Now, her speech is fairly limited, although she talks non-stop, but she blurts this phrase out like it is as common as “have a nice day.”  I asked her to repeat it and she did and has continued to since then whenever she wants everyone to leave her alone.

I have begun using the phrase myself when my husband or my children are driving me crazy, but it never seems to work for me the same way that it works for my daughter.  My people don’t seem to yield to me the privacy that I so long for, especially while I stay within the walls of my own home.  But I am learning to practice the discipline of being lonely.

This brings me to my point, because you will soon learn that I generally will have a point.  We all need TO BE LONELY sometimes, or at least I know I do!  I need to be able to say to my people, go away, do not talk to me, do not ask me anything, do not touch me, do not take from me right now.

Being lonely may mean going out and getting a glass (or in my case, a bottle) of good wine with friends, going to the library to sit and read, going shopping alone, going to get a cup of coffee, going for a run, or any number of things, but it means we walk away from the things and the people that take from us and we give ourselves time and opportunity to breath – in a world apart from our roles and responsibilities.

I don’t run from my people and my responsibilities because I don’t love them, but because I do.  I know that if I take time to be lonely, to live a little outside, I will be fuller and richer for those on the inside.

Here are a few ideas that can help you take some time to be lonley?

  • Start by setting aside time for yourself once a week and tell your family or whomever that “you need to be lonely.”
  • Think through what really rejuvenates you and do it during this time.
  • Jot down the things that keep you from actually following through with your lonely time.
  • Try to journal about how you feel after you have had some time to yourself.

Now…go be lonely people!

Blogger Identity CRISIS?!?

5 Comments 05 May 2010

Damn!  Sorry, I shouldn’t start a post that way, but damn!  (FAQ) I thought I was starting to write a blog because I had kinda, sorta found a glimmer of who I was, you know, learned a bit about myself and that I wanted to write, learn and help women.  Then I ended up down this online road and well, DSF, I am having to find myself as a blogger.

Do I want to be all clever and snarky (i like that word), or do I want to be all helpful and teachey (not sure that is a word), or do I just want to write whatever I feel like writing about and not give a, you know, the word I started this post with, what people think about it?  If I am all of the above will I be thought of as schizophrenic?

This is killing me.  Not really.  But, it is slowing me down and just ask my insurance agent how much I like to go slowly.  I read, listened to audio, hired a consultant (even though I can’t pay my mortgage), got a site, and you know, did the deed, (wrote a post you idiot), but I am sputtering.

I want to get up everyday, take my kids to school, go to my Starbucks and mooch my 4 shots of espresso off of my friend/manager Cal and then sit down and write for a while.  I want to then respond to my readers, tweet with my tweeters, and help people live better lives as better selves.  Is that so damn hard?

I will be better tomorrow.  Promise.  I am sure, very sure I will have found myself by morning, my blogger self, that is.

P.S. – I know I will be better, because I will go ask The Third Tribe.  They have taught me so much and I have gotten feedback and help from some of the biggest, most successful bloggers out there.  I literally have gotten one on one interaction with Darren Rowse, Sonia Simone, Brian Clark & Chris Brogan, just to name a few.  They have been so incredibly gracious and helpful.

Click on the Third Tribe logo on my home page.  I am an affiliate, so if you join-up they will toss cash my way, but I kid you not, if you want to learn the online world, there is NO BETTER WAY!

I also read a great post on this very thing on Copyblogger that was just what I needed to hear.  Why You Shouldn’t Write for Other Writers by Hugh McCloud.  Copyblogger has given me better insight than any other blog into the blogosphere and it connected me with Third Tribe Marketing, which has changed my world.

What I said to my 58 girl…

3 Comments 01 May 2010

I wrote about my daughter defaulting to “I am a failure” mode, i.e. – “58” girl mode, last week.  I was given a bit of push back in that I didn’t say what one (specifically I) would tell one to do if they were defaulting to a “58 girl” operating mindset.

So, I have been pondering it, and I have actually begun writing a small..well, let’s say essay?  Hell, it could be a very short book of shorts, I’ll let you know when I get it finished, but for now, this is what I told my precious girl, my beloved daughter.

She e-mailed me from school the following day to notify me that she had made an actual 90% on her exam, not the initially thought 58% and I wrote her this e-mail in response.  She was encouraged, hope you are as well, since I know we all allow ourselves to believe we are failures without a moments pause sometimes.

“you probably won’t get this (name of my daughter inserted here  😉 ) until after school, but i am not at all surprised about your test!  you are a bright and diligent student and not a “58” kind of gal!  you should have known that right away when you saw that on your test.  next time your mama wants you to remember that and question right away something that is inconsistent with what you KNOW to be TRUE of YOURSELF…got it!  you have to be your own advocate, you have to use YOUR VOICE and speak up for yourself!  it is a discipline that you must begin to learn now and continue to practice your entire life.  there will be more opportunities to do it than i care to mention, but it is probably the single most important thing you will do for yourself my dear.  find your voice, know who you are, and speak up for yourself!  you know i don’t say that in some twisted selfish way, but in a way that honors your human dignity and worth.  it goes back to your eleanor roosevelt quote, “i think that somehow we learn who we really are and then live with that decision.”  you will be learning the rest of your days who you are, pay close attention and never apologize for who you are, never diminish or demean who you are.  honor who you are and develop who you are.  love how you have been gifted, work hard to be better at the things that you love and pursue your passions with great…well, passion!  you are wholly unique from every other human being on this planet and to compare yourself with any one of them is to demean both yourself and them.  DON’T DO IT!  learn who you are!  as you learn who you are, live with it…live with it beautifully, honestly and authentically.  enjoy who you are and who others are.  envy is a devilish thing that destroys you and others, never give it a foothold in your life, it is useless.  living with who you are frees you from falling prey to envy.  it will appear, but put it away immediately by reminding yourself of truth, the truth that you were created for great things, great things that only someone like you, specifically and uniquely you can accomplish.  truth always banishes evil.  live your life in the fullness of who you are, loving who you were created to be, loving others as who they were created to be and you will be living from wholeness, with compassion, kindness and love.  there is another quote from eleanor roosevelt that your mama has come to love, “Friendship with one self is all important because without it one cannot be friends with anyone else in the world.”  you must love who you are, be your own friend, be your own advocate, care for who you are in order for others to want to know, care and love you too!  as one who knows you better than anyone and has loved you more than her own life, you are beautiful beyond words, creative, kind, compassionate, imaginative, wise beyond your years and very, very funny.  definitely not a “58”!  i love you!  mom”

Defaulting to a 58 girl?

7 Comments 24 April 2010

I was working on my new dandy website when the call came.  She spoke in a very hushed tone and asked me to come right away.  I asked her what was wrong and she insisted that she could not explain or she would burst into tears, but that I must come quickly.  I frantically gathered my computer, my keys and sped the couple of miles to the Junior High School to rescue my daughter who in her fifteen years had very rarely needed my rescuing.  I knew it must be dire or she would not have called me.  My mind was racing and I simply could not imagine what could have happened to push her to such a point of despair.

I dutifully wrote her name, had her called and as I saw her tall, thin frame pass down the hall I shot past the lockers and caught-up with her.  As she turned to come towards me I was within inches and poised with the question, “What in the world happened?”  Her chest and neck began to splotch with the three shades of red that appear when she is upset and those huge, blue eyes of hers filled with tears as she said, “I failed my History test.”

Now, some of you may find this amusing, but before you do, there is a tremendous lesson to be learned, so hang in there with me.  You see, my daughter is a great student.  Not the kind of student that things come easily to, but a the kind of student who works hard, studies hard and pursues the things she loves.  She loves History.  She is not necessarily an Advanced studies girl, but she pressed me to let her take Advanced History and I let her because she assured me that she would work hard and do her best and show up.  She has done just that and she has pulled an A for most of the year.

That brings us to this point.  History is her thing, it is her passion.  So for her to go to class on this particular day and to get her test back from her teacher and for that test to be an “F” was mind-blowing, world-rocking and catastrophic.  However, this is where there is a paradaigm problem for my daughter.  My love of a child saw a 58 on her paper and took it in as reality.  She said to herself, you are a “58” girl, you are a failure, and fell into despair without question.

As we drove away from the Junior High I asked her if she had looked over the test.  She said that she was so upset that she had not even looked at the test.  She took it out, noticed that one of the four parts was completely missing.  She had not even turned one part in to her teacher.  Long story short, it was in her folder (it had been an open notes test) and the teacher told her that he had suspected that to be the case.  He graded the fourth part that afternoon and she actually made a 90 on the test.

My point?  My daughter defaulted to 58 when she is a 90!  She took a 58 on the chin without raising her voice to say, “hey, wait a minute, something is terribly wrong here, I am a 90-kind-of-a-girl in History, not a 58, what the hell is wrong here?”  Okay, she better not say hell, but you know what I mean!  She and I talked about it in length as we enjoyed a lovely lunch together after discovering the truth before returning to the Junior High.  I exhorted her that she is her only and best advocate in this world and she MUST learn to tell herself first that she is no “58” girl, and then learn to tell the world!

I have been reminding myself since that conversation that I myself am not a “58” girl either and I just wanted to take a moment to remind you too!  Most of us have had a multitude of voices telling us that we are “58” girls for a lifetime, but only we decide…I’m just sayin’!


0 Comments 23 April 2010

Do you know what a misogynist is?  A misogynist, by definition is: someone who is characterized by a hatred, dislike, or mistrust of women.  Most women would immediately answer a resounding no to that question.  We would attribute that characteristic to some jerk that we knew in high school or worse yet, our boss, brother-in-law or in the worse-case-scenario, our husband.

Yet I want to challenge myself today on my answer.  I want to consider how much care I show for other females.  I want to consider how often I am quick to take a swipe at another woman, quick to bring another woman to her knees, especially when I feel threatened by her.  (Envy is EVIL!)  Do I see it as my responsibility to consider myself an advocate for other women, even when we differ in socio-economic standing, in career paths, in our decisions about relationships or parenting?  In my experience, women, myself included, can be their own worst enemies.  We fail to bear one another up and choose instead to tear one another down.  It is remarkably similar to 7th grade, honestly!

I want to think about who has my back?  Just ask Sandra Bullock, it is a wicked thing to think that someone has your back and then learn that that someone is a misogynistic pig (I’ll save what I would like to call him!).  I want to believe that the women in my life have my back and I have theirs, but on a broader scale, I want to believe that as a gender, women give one another the benefit of the doubt and I need to really examine whether or not I do that well.

As I sat the other morning in my particular corner of the world, also known as my Starbucks, I listened to a neighbor lament the impending demise of her marriage.  One of my girlfriends noted that this was one of several marriages that she knew of that was broken beyond repair and the wives of those respective marriages were heartbroken.  The words that followed were simple, but very true, she said, “what would we do without each other?”  Now, my friend is as happily married as they come, as am I, but we both agree that community among women is the fabric of a healthy society.  Take that away and you have a crumbling chaos.  When the women turn on one another, there is an abysmal mess.  Our modern ways, our computers, our cell phones and all of our technology has endangered our community, our communing together as women.  We have grown more and more inward, self-focused, obsessed with our offspring (a.k.a – children), and forgotten that we stand together, not opposed to one another.

I want to be careful with my words, with my thoughts and with my actions.  I want to consider how I would want to be treated if I were on the other side of a situation.  I have always needed my friends, always thought of myself as an incredibly loyal friend…to MY FRIENDS, but I want to see broadly, and really ask myself, am I a misogynist?  And when I see it in myself, or if you see it in me, I hope you will give me a swift kick in the pants!  We women must stand together…I’m just sayin’?

Does it look a little “rebellious?”

3 Comments 17 April 2010

Those were the words that my husband used when he saw the artwork for the header for my blog.  My immediate thought was “hell yeah!”  He, of course, was saying this as a word of caution.  He wanted me to be sure that I didn’t alienate anyone who might possibly read my blog.  He didn’t want me to scare anyone off.  He wanted me to consider my audience and who I am trying to appeal to with my writing.  I began to laugh.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to be altogether insensitive, but I just looked at him with this look of amazement and said, “Honey, that is the point of this blog, of my life, of what I am saying constantly.”  You see, I am not honing my writing, curtailing it or squishing it into some nice and neat little mold so that it is sure to not offend or scare off a particular group of women.  I am writing about learning and living and my life experience.  I am writing about how it is stifiling to try and live your life constantly scanning the radar for who is listening and who is watching and what they want from you and how you can tweak yourself to make them happy.  I am writing about how it is freeing and fulfilling to walk upright and breath deeply as your authentic self even if it means that you live your entire life as misunderstood and under appreciated.  I am writing about thriving as you were meant to be.

It may sound corny, but it is true, and if you have carried the weight of living out of deficit, you know what I mean.  I believe, in my deepest part, that we are far more capable to love and give, offer compassion and empathy, when we have settled that we are loved deeply and created for great things.  There is a great life-sucking force that eats us alive and yet we step right up to life’s counter and say, thank you ma’am , may I have another helping!  We ask for more when we are obsessed with searching that radar for what the infamous “they” will think of us.

Now, having put that out there, let’s be clear right here and now.  This blog will not be for every woman.  I will offend some of you.  I will use profanity on occasion.  I don’t use it for shock value, although I am sure it still manages to shock some of you, go figure?  (Read Why I use bad words. @%#*@!* on my FYI and other random thoughts…Page )  But that is the dilema that every writer or artist faces at some point in their journey, if I put this out there, I will face rejection.  And I know it is inevitable and those who know me well know that tough skin is not my forte, however, the scale has tipped in favor of living beyond the pale.  I love writing, I love helping others, I love empowering women to be there very, very best selves.  I love to see them love their families, their communities, their friends and their worlds from a wholeness that comes from having learned who they are and having begun to live that reality out with passion.

I also want to make a couple of things clear, as my folks in Mississippi might say, I don’t have a bone to pick or dog in any fight here.  My life experience has brought me through some very ugly and painful circumstances and I will write about those circumstances.  I am writing about how those circumstances have taught me and affected ME, I don’t have a desire to chat about those who were involved in those circumstances.  So, if I hit a nerve for you and you feel compelled to defend a particular culprit in my past, just go write a seething e-mail, full of all of your angst and then send it to yourself.  I don’t want it, I’m all done being angry and I have no desire to debate or try and change the organizations or institutions of which I have been a part.  I am looking forward.  I think when we become so enmeshed with the organizations and institutions or even ideals with which we align our lives we lose sight of who we are as separate beings, apart from them.  I try to ask myself the question, “why am I so offended when my (fill in the blank) is criticized?” and it helps keep me in check on who I am.  So, if I ruffle your feathers, comb them out yourself, I am not a hair dresser!  I’m just sayin’!

I want to empower women, learn about myself, help other women learn about themselves and laugh all the while.  Life is to be lived fully and gloriously, we were made for it, in spite of the pain and brokenness that surrounds us.  And I think we gotta kick a little ass to make that happen sometimes, we have just let our lives, our passions and our sense of self get buried far too often, so…if it looks a little rebellious…so be it!

things to make you wonder~

“I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am aging and eaten and have done my share of eating too. I am not washed and beautiful, in control of a shining world in which everything fits, but instead am wondering awed about on a splintered wreck I've come to care for, whose gnawed trees breathe a delicate air, whose bloodied and scarred creatures are my dearest companions, and whose beauty bats and shines not in its imperfections but overwhelmingly in spite of them...” Annie Dillard

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