Getting to My Happy

So I have been recently going on random Facebook rants about happiness, finding happiness, being happy, staying happy, happy, happy, happy, to the point where I thought people may have thought I’d gone crazy. So I relaxed the amount of happiness posts, though the sentiment and the want to pen something poignant about it still remained close to heart. Thus this post was born. Ahhhhh (cue the angelic singing). But the true birth of my happiness fest was hard fought and quite cliche actually. You know how it goes, I’d been living a pretty happy life: contented relationship, beautiful babies, booming business, great friends, with sides of leisurely pleasure, like traveling, thrown in at my discretion. Then Life happened. As it always seems to do at the most inconvenient time, as if there is ever a good time for disaster. Without boring you with the petty details of my cozy little life’s unraveling, I’ll sum it up by saying I was hit in all the areas I just mentioned. Talk about going from 100 to 0! Relationship on the rocks, baby hospitalized, long term friendships ended as quickly as they’d begun. Then the depression of things falling apart set in as a dark cloud over my life for what I consider too long. The pressure of things falling apart for a perfectionist is indescribable. I hadn’t failed at much at life at this point, so to be seemingly failing at everything was too much. I no longer saw the joys of raising my babies, but was burdened more by responsibilities of parenting. I looked at everything wrong in my relationship and everything I felt I was missing in my partner and let it upset me. I lost the exuberance that I’d had to build and maintain a business. I was affected.

Affected and isolated. As I drove myself deeper and deeper into my problems, I began to feel like I couldn’t trust anyone, as my trust had just been freshly shattered, so I didn’t feel I could even talk to anyone. This lasted for months and months on end, characterized by me going through the motions of participating in life, but not enjoying it. But as they say, ‘you get sick and tired of being sick and tired,’ I looked at my beautiful daughter and son who seemed to have advanced to the next stage of maturation right before my eyes without me really seeing it happen. And it scared me. I realized I didn’t want to miss another moment of right now because I was too busy feeling sorry for myself. I no longer wanted to give the people who’d hurt me the power of  stealing my happiness by allowing the negative emotions associated with those people and the events that had transpired in the past to overcome me in the present. Instead, I choose to learn from those mistakes, and take them happily with me into the future.

So on my fight back to happy, I learned that happiness truly was a choice. And as I write here today, most things in my life have not been pieced back even close to a shadow of its’ former self, but I can’t let that be the definition of my happiness. Today, I don’t want to make my happiness another person’s responsibility. My happiness is so fragile, I choose to take care of it myself. I don’t want to define my happiness by arbitrary societal standards. I want to define my happiness by feeling like I am contributing to my life’s purpose: to be an excellent mother, a compassionate human, and a voice of truth, with sides of leisurely pleasure thrown in at my discretion.


Dream Girl

Dream Girl.

Dream Girl

In your conscious effort to forget me

I visit you in your dreams

Your subconscious letting you know

We can’t control this thing

That’s been ignited

Should we fight it

Try and hide it

The uniqueness of our situation

All the complexities

Yet we remain

As unfulfilled fantasies

So I’ll be be your dream girl

Until we make dreams a reality

Happy Father’s Day!

Alright,  first and foremost,  I’m going to kick this post off by reiterating my annoyance at this non-ceasing holiday schedule of commercialism. Nearly every month there’s some contrived  holiday to take some of your hard – earned money in the name of fun, love remembrance, or guilt. But personal feelings aside, after listening to a week of my so (significant other) complaining about the lack of respect this particular holiday receives, my initial reaction was,  ‘who cares?’  Most years my birthday and Mother’s day fall within days of each other enticing those close to me to gift me a ‘two for one’ type deal. And I don’t feel any less of a mother or any less celebrated.  But I began to reconsider when I thought about the importance of fathers and the seeming lack of great ones.  I don’t really even talk to my father and that’s the case for many people I know, but when I think about my children’s father, I am filled with a sense of gratitude for everything he does and is for these kids.

Parenting is definitely a dual-role occupation, with a father’s role being just as important as the mothers, for that child’s complete emotional development. I know the broken relationship that exists between my father and I has lead to some gaps in my life for which I have to work overtime to compensate. So though this is still a fabricated holiday to make Hallmark a little wealthier,  I do think our fathers who willingly and lovingly handle and exceed their paternal responsibilities need to be appreciated.  So ladies,  please let our fathers know you APPRECIATE all they do, not just today, but everyday. Happy Father’s Day loves! Continue to be the excellent fathers you have been and if you haven’t been, believe me, it’s never too late to start!

Love and Blessings

She’s back! But wait, why?

Well. Here I am. Back in this virtual vortex of information and ideas aka the Internet, bursting with my own thoughts, ready to share with the world. So I took some time off from my newly created blog last year, a lot of time (time flies) actually, to complete some other ventures and to reevaluate the purpose of my blog. I must admit that over this past year, I’ve sucked in social media networks. Mainly Facebook, because reading the posts of others was not only entertaining beyond belief, but it made me realize how many emotionally broken people are trying to make their way through this thing called life and could maybe benefit from an encouraging word or different perspective. So I felt that it was my duty to use one of my gifts, writing, to uplift and encourage others. With that being said, I am not expecting everyone to agree with everything I post. What I expect is a thorough reading of my comments, blogs, poems, quotes, etc. and my reader’s honest feedback. Agreeing with me or not. I can respect differences of opinions as long we keep this a respectful platform. I also realized that I needed my blog as much as I may feel people need to read it. Writing has always been a huge part of my private life that I’m ready to take public, and what better way to start that process than your very own blog. So I am committed to bringing my followers fresh, hopefully thought-provoking content that will carry over into their lives to help them become the best them possible, or at least a more conscious them.

So who the hell am I? I’m sure you’re probably wondering. I know I would be. Well I tell everyone, I’m no one really. Just  girl with an opinion. That I’ve thought about before I’ve expressed. Which you don’t tend to get a lot of these days. But besides being an opinionated, Miami-born, life-bred woman, I guess I have to list my professional credentials, which may or most likely may not pertain to my postings. I am a pediatric Speech-Language Pathologist by training and I’ve practiced in the field for over 11 years. Shortly after graduating with my masters degree from the University of Florida with a 4.0 GPA in 2005, I opened my owned therapy company in 2007, which currently operates with myself and several other therapists. In addition, I’ve also started two other companies, one with a focus on women’s fashion, and the other, real estate. Believe me, this is NOT an attempt to toot my own horn, as I am still striving to get where I want to be, but I do believe in checking resumes, so for those of the same accord, there’s mine in a nutshell. Actual copies upon request. But more importantly than the paperwork I hold, I consider myself an observer, one of my favorite titles. An observer of people, of situations, of life. I observe and analyze so much it gives me a headache sometimes. But I believe this deep analysis often brings a different perspective.

So hopefully, when you read my blog, you’ll leave saying, ‘hmm, I never thought about it like that before,’ or ‘I never thought about that at all!’ And if you read something worth sharing, I encourage you to do so. Spread the message! Get the word out! Thewritegirl305 has something to say!

The Real America

The nation has been abuzz with opinion and heated debate since the Zimmerman verdict was delivered Saturday. But I had remained silent. It seemed pointless to voice to the same outrage that was being so eloquently voiced from every media source that felt justice had not been delivered. To state the obvious, I do not feel justice has been delivered. I will stated that I could not bring myself to watch the trial, probably already intuitively knowing this would be the outcome, so I can’t argue every little detail. All I can argue is common sense. Which I feel I’m pretty good with and common sense doesn’t generally change. It’s like right and wrong, it is what it is. Now let’s be clear. We still live in America. We’re only 50 or so some odd years from a forced Civil Rights era. So I never expected Zimmerman to be convicted of first degree murder, which gets into whether the murder is deliberate and/or premeditated, as defined by most states. But I did expect something. At least a voluntary manslaughter charge perhaps? After all, the fact that a life was taken is indisputable, and for there to be no repercussions whatsoever, sends a horrible message. The message I get is that ‘young black men are expendable.’

A horrible message to be dropped in the wrong hands. My fear and now my outcry has become the future Trayvon Martin’s who will be shot and killed in the name of self-defense and the shooters who will get off in the name justice. As the mother of a black son, what can I tell my son about this America that we live in when we are still saying it’s okay to criminalize our black males and shoot them dead in the streets? This is not an emotional response. In the past days, I’ve heard of at least two other young black males, shot and killed in the days since Martin’s shooting. Jordan Davis, a 17-year-old black male, was gunned down in Jacksonville, Fl on November 23, 2012  by Michael Dunn, a white 46-year-old male, after an argument in a convenience store parking lot in which Dunn asked Davis and his friends to turn down the volume of their rap music. Dunn open fired into the vehicle with Davis and friends 8-9 times, after claiming he saw a shotgun. Davis was killed immediately. No weapons were ever found on the teens.

A second case, involves the shooting of 13-year-old black Wisconsin male, Darius Simmons, by his 76-year-old white neighbor, John Henry Spooner. Spooner shot Simmons on the sidewalk in front of their homes after Spooner accused Simmons of stealing over $3,000 worth of guns from his home. Simmons’ mother was a witness to the shooting of her son.

I cannot dispute whether or not George Zimmerman is a card-carrying Ku Klux Klan racist or not. I don’t know him or his family. His brother has vouched for his stellar character, but what else would he do? I do know that Zimmerman racially profiled Martin and probably did have him characterized as a potential neighborhood threat. Had it have been a white kid walking that night, I don’t think Zimmerman would have followed him with suspicion. All I know is that a boy ended up dead because he was trying to stand his ground. To Martin, Zimmerman was the threat and had to be handled. Now, my question has always been, ‘how many fist fights have you gotten in where you truly felt you were going to be killed?’ I don’t understand how Zimmerman felt his life were in jeopardy during a fist fight if at no time Martin ever attempted to reach for any weapon? Should delivering a justifiable ass-whipping cost you your life? Should Martin have just kept being followed and hoped everything turned out for the best?

I’m disappointed that we have those who feel it’s not a matter of race. In America, it’s always a matter of race. This is a racially charged nation that has not healed it’s racist past, just put a band-aid on it and a black President. And I’m not sure if ‘healing’ in the traditionally sense is possible, for many reasons that can be discussed later, but at least some type of resolution that won’t leave me scared to send my son at night. Any suggestions?

Darius Simmons

Darius Simmons

Jordan Davis

Jordan Davis

Trayvon Martin

Trayvon Martin

Fulfillment Seekers

So in a previous blog, I discussed my concept of religion and spirituality. And, as I’ve reinstated my meditation practice, I’ve been asking myself, ‘what is it all for?’. And it dawned on me, one of the great things about meditating is the introspection it allows, that we are all seeking fulfillment and a sense of contentedness. And the difficulty of the task is the abstractness of what it means to be fulfilled. This idea is something that varies from person to person and has no universal guideline as to what it means to be fulfilled. Fulfillment and happiness tend to go hand and hand and many people don’t even know what it would take to make them happy. Many of us try and seek fulfillment from material possessions, and then wonder why we are still met with feelings of discontent after purchasing everything we ever thought we wanted. Some of us seek fulfillment from the relationships we build with those around us. A danger game to play to let your happiness be defined by others if you ask me. And yet still, we have those who seek that fulfillment with religion, falsely believing they will be content the more they attend service and tithe.

It is usually obvious how a person is attempting to fulfill themselves based on their actions and how they spend their time. So then I wonder, why are there so many unhappy souls and why would you continue with your everyday routine if it continues to leave you unfulfilled. Maybe it’s time to try something different? Starting with an honest assessment of why you aren’t fulfilled, how you’ve been attempting to fulfill yourself and what are some things that would truly make you content. To me, I am fulfilled by the culmination of events that have come together as a collective to create my life. I am further fulfilled by being accomplished. Achieving what I didn’t think I could. I am fulfilled when I can end my day and say I did something productive or I helped someone. But your journey to discovering your own fulfillment is a personal one, and one worth the effort. A fulfilled life is a lighted life that seeks to spread that joy and light to others. So I urge us all to try and be that light.

Just as light brightens darkness, discovering inner fulfillment can eliminate any disorder or discomfort. This is truly the key to creating balance and harmony in everything you do
 Deepak Chopra quotes 

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