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self love

It’s A Revolution

By April 20, 2017 Uncategorized
me

Sometimes I feel like I’m so fucking close to that place… The place I’m supposed to be.  Whatever it is that my soul had intended for me before I came into this life.  I feel so close.  And it’s amazing.  I have these moments where I’m out of this world happy for no reason.  Or actually, for every reason.  It’s hard to explain.  Like today, as I was driving home from work, out of nowhere I was high on life.  Nothing happened to make me feel that way.  I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular.  It’s just this flowing feeling that sort of takes over.  Almost a buzzing… Like that awesome feeling you get right before you sneeze, but exponentially better.  And I can’t help but smile.  I rolled down my window and smelled the air.  Looked at the sky.  The trees.  The flowers.  The rabbit that ran across the road in front of me.  And my daughter sleeping in the back seat from my rear view mirror.  Then I offered my gratitude to the Universe.  I love those moments.  I think it’s called “oneness.”  Or at least it’s how I think oneness would feel.  Like an effortless love of everything… Including myself.

But those moments don’t last.  They come and visit me briefly then move on.  And I return to my former self.  A version of me that’s struggling just like everyone else.  But I’m one of the lucky ones.  I get glimpses of what life is supposed to feel like.  Most don’t, or at least not yet.  Most of you probably have no idea what I’m even talking about.  Yeah, yeah… I’m crazy.  I’m okay with that.  I’ll be the crazy one that talks about ascension.  No big deal.

Those moments though… They change me.  Ever so slightly.  Each time I get a glimpse of true, unconditional self love, a tiny piece of it stays with me.  And you know what one of the best things about self love is?  It makes it easier to love others.  All others… Like, literally everyone. Weird right?  And in those moments, everything makes sense.  There’s no room for fear, or hate, or intolerance.  Because everything is just as it’s supposed to be.  As fucked up as that may sound, everything is just as it should be.  Life is crazy, man!  It’s a fucking trip, right?  I mean,  this is where you live:

universe

You’re a human being living on a spinning ball that’s revolving around a star.  Whaaaaaat??!  Puts things in perspective, eh?  I think we all need to lighten up a little bit… Stop taking shit so seriously.  Besides, if you believe that emotions are contagious, which by the way I do, than being all doom and gloom is counterproductive.  Right?  If you want to be surrounded by peace, and love, and light, then you have to be peaceful, loving, and full of light.  Let it shine out of you, to lift others up.  Ya know?  It’s so fucking simple, yet simultaneously seemingly impossible.  But we all hold that knowing inside of us.  And we’ve all experienced it’s power.  Most of us just haven’t identified it for what it is.

Just take a second and think about those moments…  The ones where people use terms like, “We were vibing,” or, “The room felt electric.”  That shit is real.  What you’re feeling and absorbing is other people’s happiness.  Feels good, right?  Maybe you felt it at your graduation, or at a concert, or some other type of celebration… But we’ve all felt it before.  We’ve also all experienced the opposite.  When tragedy strikes, or loved ones are lost, our sadness, grief, fear, and anger impact those around us as well.  When you think about the power of our collective emotions it’s pretty amazing.  We totally have a choice which direction this world will go.  And we’re living in the craziest of times.  But some of us…  A lot of us… are choosing love.  It’s a revolution of sorts.  A contagion.  But a good kind… Besides, aren’t you guys exhausted by all the negativity?  I mean, I get it.  I do!  The world is kind of a scary place these days.  But, honestly… It’s fucking tiring.  Y’all are inadvertently dragging each other down when we need to be lifting each other up.  The answer is inside of you.  Just love yourself.  That’s all.  No big deal, right?  You can totally do it.  I can too.  I have faith in us.

Now grab your glow sticks.  Let’s jam.

Diplo~Revolution

 

~Namaste~

Becky

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I’m Not Afraid…

By April 1, 2017 Uncategorized
me2

When you manage a page on Facebook they offer all sorts of really interesting tools.  If I go to my site I can click on a button that says, “Insights.”  On that page I can see all sorts of information about my posts.  It’s only a tiny bit big brother-ish.  But that’s neither here nor there.  Anyway, I’ve come to two conclusions…  Firstly, y’all are as crazy as me.  Secondly, you think I’m a total smoke show.  Ha!  I kid…  For real though.  The realer I get (Is ‘realer’ even a word?), the more clicks my posts get.  Yeehaw!  And apparently you guys enjoy my selfies.  So here you go:

Me

No filter.  No makeup.  Unbrushed hair.  And sweats on the couch.  I ain’t scared.

None of us are perfect.  Yet, simultaneously, we are all perfect.  I’m realizing this more and more each day.  If I truly want to get to a place of self love, I need to do it not despite my flaws, but because of them. Because they help make me, me.  You know?  It wasn’t really until I came to this conclusion that judgement of others started falling away from me.  I very rarely judge others… I didn’t say I never judge others, but it’s not very often.  And when I do, I notice what I’m doing and I don’t like it.  When you start noticing that you don’t enjoy judging others, it’s the first step in self acceptance, as well as acceptance of others…  Because really, they’re kind of one in the same.  Did I just confuse the shit out of you?  Here’s a story to clarify:

So the other day I’m in the family locker room with my two kids.  They are slightly out of control and being mildly obnoxious, but I’m cool as a cucumber.  For whatever reason, I was not at all bothered by their shenanigans.  They’re kids.  It’s a family locker room.  There are times when there’s countless screaming children in that space.  Whatevs.  Right?  But then there’s this other mom.  Her kids, who in my opinion, were behaving much better than mine, were driving her batty.  After a couple failed attempts at taming her kiddos, this mom totally loses her shit.  Yelling, accusing, angry, and honestly, pretty mean.  I glance over at some other moms in the locker room, who give me the eyeball.  You know the one.  It says, “Wow.  What a bitch.”  I return an affirmative glance, confirming my agreement with their judgement, then turn toward the angry mom.  We make eye contact and suddenly, I see myself in her.  I give a sympathetic smile and move on with my kids.  As I walked out of the locker room I found myself feeling guilty for having judged her in the first place.  Who am I to judge?  It’s not like I haven’t lost my cool with my kids, like seventeen million times.

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Photo Credit: Jamison Wexler

Last winter I went on a grocery shopping trip with both of my kids.  I never do that.  Ever.  Grocery shopping with kids is a nightmare.  Grocery shopping alone is a dream come true… Especially at Whole Foods… In the bath and body section.  Right??!  Anyway, so I’m making my way through the store with my kids, and Ceci decides she’s going to become the spawn of Satan.  No joke, she had a meltdown in every single aisle.  She wanted the chocolate cereal.  The cinnamon rolls.  The cookies.  The candy.  The potato chips.  You name it, she had to have it.  I was so fucking irritated.  Throughout the whole trip I managed to keep my cool, but anger was bubbling up inside.  We finally make our way to the front of the store and Ceci notices the advent calendars.  You know, the ones that cost like $30 made with organic, fair trade, dark chocolate.  I’m sorry, but I ain’t paying $30 for a cardboard box filled with 25 bite sized pieces of chocolate, unless that shit is individually wrapped in genuine gold.  Who’s with me?  Ceci adamantly disagreed with my assessment of the price, and when I refused to buy the Godforsaken box of fucking chocolates she went off the handle.  She was no longer my child.  I was waiting for her head to start spinning.

After a battle that felt like it lasted an eternity, I picked her up over my shoulder, and carried her as I pushed the cart with Ryan in it, to the nearest cash register.  I plop her on the floor where she proceeds to act like a lunatic, and quickly unload my cart onto the register.  I apologize profusely to everyone in the area for my daughter’s behavior, ignore her, and wait for my stuff to get rung up.  The cashier, clearly trying to help, turns to Ceci and says, “Do you want some stickers?”  Say whaaaaat?!  Umm, no!  She can’t have fucking stickers!  “Oh, no maam.  She can’t have a sticker,” I say as I quickly pay.  She apologizes and quickly helps to bag my stuff.  At this point I’m sweating, my heart is pounding and I’m ready to get down on the floor and tantrum alongside my maniacal daughter… But I don’t.  I calmly pick her up, sling her over my shoulder and make my way to my car with the help of the bagger, pushing my cart.

Ceci continues flailing, screaming, hitting, and kicking as we make our way to the van.  The bagger waits as I haul Ceci into my van, then thanks me and walks away as I get Ryan and my bags of groceries.  I buckle Ryan up then proceed over to Ceci to buckle her.  She flops on the floor and refuses to get in her seat.  A five minute wrestling match ensues, which I eventually win, but not without a lot of effort and a fair amount of screaming… “Get in your seat.  Get in your seat!  GET IN YOUR FUCKING SEAT!!!”  Yup.  I said it.  Don’t care.  Game over.

As I buckle her up she’s screaming, “I HATE YOU!  You’re a terrible mother.  I hope you DIIIIIIIIIE!!!”

“Stop SCREAMING!!!!!!!!!!!”  I scream at her… Because, you know, screaming at your child to stop screaming is totally effective.  Big sigh.

As I step out of the back of the van, I glance over and see a middle aged man walking towards Whole Foods.  He stares me down with disgust on his face,  rolls his eyes, and shakes his head as he walks past.  “Fuck you, asshole,”  I think to myself as I get in the driver’s seat.  Then I cried.  The whole ride home, I cried.  There’s nothing worse than feeling like a bad parent, coupled with the feeling that others agree with that sentiment.

That was the moment I flashed back to as I walked out of the family locker room.  For a brief moment, I was the asshole walking past my van.  I have no idea what sort of shit that other mom is dealing with in her life.  Or how she was raised.  Or what types of struggles she’s endured in her life.  Know not, judge not.  I just keep telling myself that.  And when I do judge, I ask myself what piece of me I see in the situation I’m judging.

I’m totally unafraid of getting real with all of you.  If you choose to judge me for my mistakes, you’re really just judging a different reflection of yourself.  You’re no more perfect or imperfect than me.  And maybe if I’m not afraid to show my flaws and mistakes, and can love myself because of them, others can start to accept their own flaws and find that place of self love too.

Eminem~Not Afraid

~Namaste~

Becky

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