Category Archives: Contemplation

On my FaceBook Rant: Chivalry, Respect, Manners… Are They DEAD?

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Before I get into this, I just want to begin by saying, “All’s well that ends well”. Because it did. I have a lot of respect for people who take accountability for their actions and strive to work on themselves. Kudos for that. 🙂
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Last week I had an experience that raised and important social issue. This one is big. To me at least. I feel it should be to all of us, but that’s just me on my soap box. So pardon my suds, because I’m about to make some.  It’s about to get bubbly up in here.

I was parked at the school to pick Nathan up from soccer practice. I don’t know why I parked in this particular spot, but I pulled my Explorer, front end in first, into a spot, right next to a high cement wall. As soon as I did, I thought to myself, “that’s not a smart spot to need to pull out of”. I was only parked there for a few minutes before time to pull out and drive around the lot and circle around to the curb where I usually wait for him after practice. I started to very slowly pull out, being extra cautious, just because of the nature of the spot, when I heard a “zoomy” car come racing into the parking lot. I immediately hit the brakes and decided to wait, while I watched a sporty silver car with a young man and girl zip around the lot. As I continued to back out and circle around – and ultimately end up behind them in line to pick up Nathan – I put my vehicle in park and sat in wait. I had my sunglasses on and was just listening to music. The young man in the car in front of me opened his car door, leaned out and hollered at me, “What the fuck are youlooking at?” I couldn’t believe my ears! I felt both assaulted and wounded. I responded, “I’m not looking at anything honey, I’m just waiting for my son to finish up soccer practice” and took off my sunglasses. I was genuinely shocked at his confrontational tone and language. He told me to “shut the fuck up”. At that point, I got angry, because after he cussed at me the first time and I responded to him with kindness, he cussed me a second time, so now I was angry and wasn’t going to take his abuse, so I said, “You can’t talk to me that way! What’s your name?!” At which he promptly told me to “Shut the fuck up” a second time and sped out of the parking lot after retrieving one of Nathan’s teammates (his younger brother).

I was left with my mouth hanging open, my heart racing, and my mind absolutely blown. There in a car directly across from me was the father of one of the other boys, and 2 or 3 other mothers waiting to pick up their sons. The father sat in his car the entire time and did nothing. One of the mothers approached me as the kid spun off and drove away. She said she thought I knew him, that we were just joking around, and wasn’t sure if we were serious or not. I assured here it was no joke and that I was VERYupset. Two other mothers said they could tell something was going on from their cars but didn’t know what or who was involved until after it was all said and done.

I was so upset, I jumped out of my car with no shoes on and stomped up the hill to where some of the boys were still practicing. Nathan had forgotten I needed to get him a few minutes early that day, so I had to go retrieve him myself. On my way, one of the other teammates was sitting on the hill waiting for his ride and I was able to get the name of the kid who got in the car with the raging guy in the silver car, so I could call the parents to talk to them about what had happened.

I was still so upset by the time I got home, I wasn’t sure if I should wait to calm down to call, or call while I still had the nerve and was upset enough to do it. I didn’t want to make things awkward for Nathan or for us and the other soccer moms and dads for the rest of the high school soccer season, but there was no way I could let this go without saying something. If that was Nathan talking to one of his teammates’ parents that way, I’d be mortified and he’d be one sorry kid! So, I called. Before I did, I told Nathan what had happened. He was upset about it and thought I should talk to the father because he’d be harder on the kid than the mom. Kevin advised me to talk to the mother – mom-to-mom. I ended up taking Kev’s advice. I knew she’d talk to her husband anyway. She was mortified and the end result is, the following day, I got a phone call from the guy, apologizing. He explained he has anger issues. He also explained that when he came around the corner that day and saw me pulling out, he thought I was going to hit his new car. I reminded him, how fast he was driving. So fast, he was “squealing wheels” in the parking lot with way too many kids around… I told him that I could understand how he could have thought I may not have seen him, but I certainly heard him coming and had already stopped backing out to let him go by. I thanked him very much for calling, told him it meant a lot to me that he did and that I realized it probably wasn’t an easy thing to do. It showed a level of maturity I wasn’t sure the guy had, but know now he’s working on. His parents are really nice people and clearly are trying hard with him. I learned a few days later that he’s a pretty hard-working guy, who is working to pay for that car on his own because he wanted a nicer car than the one his family could provide. He’s 19 – just trying to work out some kinks… I’m hoping he gets there.

What really bothered me about this scenario was the lack of support I got while this event took place – especially on the part of the man who watched it all go down. I’m aware people don’t like to get involved in other people’s business anymore for fear of retaliation, law suits, personal harm that may come to them, etc… but quite honestly, I think this airs on the impish side. I’m sorry. Go on and judge me, since I’m judging here – it’s OK. I just do. I’m a damn GIRL and I’ll step up and DO and SAY and take ACTION if I KNOW something isn’t right or someone’s in trouble. I’d rather get in trouble for standing up for something I know is right than let something wrong happen and have done nothing at all to try to stop it. I guess I have my limits, if I’m being honest. I wouldn’t get in the middle of gun fight, that’s for sure – or a hold up in a grocery store. But if I saw a domestic violence thing going down, I’d make a call. If I saw someone getting bullied or messed with, I’d assess the situation and see if it was safe for me to do something about it. If it wasn’t, I’d call the cops, or look for someone else to help.

What are you willing to stand up for? What are your limits?  Comment here and let me know!

Alive and Writing

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Writer graphic for freelance business card

It’s been a bit since I last wrote.  I’ve been writing.  Just not here.  Things are evolving slowly with new writing opportunities and I’m still searching for that one golden opportunity.  Ideally, I’d love to be writing a fun article for a popular magazine on a regular basis or blogging on-line somewhere.  I mean, I have this blog, but does anybody really pay any attention to this?  No one’s blowing up my Facebook page saying, “Meg!  Where have you been?  Why haven’t you blogged lately?  I miss you!”

As a writer, I don’t seek fame and a luxurious lifestyle (if that even exists for a Freelance Writer).  I seek validation.  I also seek income.  I want to get paid to do something I love, other than massage and I want people to know me for the kind of writing I like to do.  Maybe I haven’t yet figured that out myself, but I know I need to be writing.

Right now, I’m hanging by a thread, waiting to hear back from a government contractor who prospected me for writing Department of Commerce Success Stories.  It’s not über creative work, but it’s actually pretty interesting and it pays really well.  So well, I’d be able to help us get a handful of bills paid off and boy that would feel freaking awesome!

Today I called off from work (massage).  I woke up with a killer migraine (thanks pending, Severe Thunderstorm!).  I’m medicated and the migraine is in what I call a “dormant” state.  It’s there.  I can feel it, but I know if I do too much, I’ll be sick as a dog.  So I’m HOME – in my comfy air-conditioned house, not physically taxing my body and doing a lot of thinking and wishing and more thinking… about how I can find more writing opportunities and get exposed.   In a non-pervy kinda way.  😉

At age 45:

I’ve graduated from college (finally)

Nay, Me and Kev on Grad Day

                                                                I’ve lost 30 pounds

Color Run Hershey 2014

                                                                                                                     I’ve finished my son’s quilt

Nathan standing with finished quilt

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now, I’m focusing on a shift in career.  I will always love people and helping them to achieve a pain-free, relaxed, more mobile life.  I know I’ll always love massage therapy, but it’s not how I want to solely make my living anymore and I want to shift my focus to developing as a writer.

I’m getting older.  I said that by the time I was 50, I’d want to be doing much less bodywork and more writing.  I’ll be 46 this November.

The wheels are in motion.

Why?

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question mark face for blog 05202014

Been a couple of weeks since I’ve posted.  Shame on me!

There’s a reason…

I’ve honestly struggled a bit with my last post.  I’ve struggle because I want to be me.  I want to write what naturally comes to mind and what feels like what I need to express, at the time I need to express it.  When I write about things that are personal, I sometimes get “admonished” by those close to me for not protecting my family’s privacy.  Sometimes, I just embarrass them.  In fact, I’m sure the admonishment, stems from their own discomfort, and not any real concern for my reputation.  I mean, let’s be honest, shall we?  The fact of the matter is, I have three people to answer to and one deity.  The people are:  My husband, my son and myself.  My husband supports me in every way.  He knows my true self and my heart’s desires and because he loves me the way he does, he wants me to find my happiness in any way I can (so long as it’s legal).  I could say the same about my son.  Some may argue, “he’s just a teenage boy” and I should be protecting him by not putting all my personal stuff and intimate things “out there”.  Fact is, I seriously don’t put all my intimate things out there.   Trust me.  You’d all be blushing.  Or writing to ask for tips and advice.  Have I mentioned I reference my life as a “burger and a beer story”?  There’s lots I haven’t shared.  Yet.

Anyway, the kid is mature beyond his years and if there’s one thing I do well as a parent, it’s to teach my son that his mother is human.  He knows I’m not just his mother, but a woman with desires, dreams and goals.  He also knows I make mistakes and just because I’m his mom, doesn’t mean I can’t screw up.  He’s seen me cry.  He’s heard me cuss.  He’s heard me apologize and explain my own answers to the why’s in my life.  We talk openly about anything he is interested in.  I don’t shelter him in anyway.  I feel I’m preparing him well.  And hopefully, as an offshoot of that, he’s learning to respect women as the intelligent, creative, sensitive, nurturing-yet-ass-kicking, multi-taskers that we are!  We are, in fact, each others’ biggest fans.   And, let me just say:  THAT ROCKS!

As for the rest of my family, most of my immediate family knows what I aspire to be and dream of doing.  I have a dear, sweet Aunt who is unconditionally loving, who simply expressed, my last post (On Sex and Cremation) “made her blush”.  I love her so much for her honesty and her support that followed.  She affirmed for me that I am a good writer and that she was proud of me.

I need more of that to fuel my fire.  I need more of that in order to fulfill my dream of becoming a writer.  I want to be a writer that makes people a little uncomfortable sometimes.  To me, discomfort stretches us to answer why?  Why am I uncomfortable?  It’s when we ask ourselves those introspective questions, that we find answers that change us or at least force us to think in a way we don’t always.  I like the notion that we’re always changing…morphing into (hopefully) better, more evolved versions of ourselves.

The older I get the wearier I get of conforming and doing things to please others when my soul is hungry to express who I am and be the person God and Universe intended me to BE.

I hope this post inspires you, even in some small way.  I hope it inspires you to challenge yourself and examine the why that emerges when something makes you feel even the slightest bit uncomfy.

Be in the moment and figure out why.  Then, ask yourself if that is really the lens through which you want to view the world.

I double dog dare you.

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Crying Angel

Weep long, then breathe deeply. This is the soul shedding its skin in order to live again. – ME

This thought filled my head on 3/7/14 in the wee hours. But honestly???? the last month has been filled with so many family deaths, death-a-versaries and memories of lost loved ones, I guess it’s time I just put it on out there and let it drift around in The Blogaverse for contemplation.

I haven’t cried much but I feel like I should have.  Or should be.  Maybe it’s because the older I get the better I understand death.  I understand that I can’t control it.  I understand that while our physical bodies die and cease to exist, our souls live on and I believe parts of us are even reborn.  This to me is a good thing.  Maybe that’s why I don’t cry so much about death anymore. I picture a pretty wicked awesome party pad packed with souls I love, in perfect form, doing all the things they love to do, floating around in whatever plane exists for the “afterlife”.  It’s not a scary thing, because God is in control. The way I believe and understand God and death may be different than what some believe or what some religions teach, but in my heart and soul, this is what I believe.  Anyway…

I imagine it will be different when I lose a parent.  This is not something I look forward to and for those friends and cousins who have recently mourned the loss of their mothers and fathers (there have been 6 in the last month I can think of), know that I love you and have been thinking of you.  I hope you have allowed yourself a good healthy cry and good deep breath.

 

NOTE:  This quote post somehow never got published here on WordPress.  I know it made it on FaceBook like I meant to post it here too, but somehow, as I just got on to blog tonight, I saw it wasn’t listed in my recent posts.  Hmmm… anyhooo… it’s here now.  Happy Easter all!

Weep long, then…