...the pen is now back in my hand...

“You are the designer of your destiny. You are the author. You write the story. The pen is in your hand, and the outcome is whatever you choose.” ~Lisa Nichols


I began this New Year forgiving and apologizing, now it’s time to get back to living and being the upbeat person I really am. I lost myself somewhere in the past twelve months. I’m not sure exactly where Monica went. I found her shell, but her heart went unfound until recently. My personal life and relationships with family was in turmoil. To put it quite bluntly, I hit bottom as the New Year approached.

Depression…it’s not something I am proud of. My mind took over like a runaway train and had an ongoing party at my expense. I wrote about this before and there is no need to hash it over again. I appreciate the many emails I received from those of you who have inquired, “what’s up?” I’ve tried to answer most of them, and hopefully, I plan to get back on track with life in general. I’ve made some difficult decisions and I feel good about them. I’m leaving the pessimistic woman behind and saying “hello” to the woman I remember, the one grounded with the positive attitude who placed her troubles in God’s hands. I’m anxious to get back that, “what are you up to?” or as my husband would say, “that shit-eatin’grin” back on my face. I have been very fortunate to have those precious few who has come into my life and inspired, touched, and illuminated me with their positive energy and their presence. For this, I am truly blessed.

There’s a quote by John DeMartini I heard many years ago, it was one I used to live by, “Whatever we think about and thank about we bring about.” There is much wisdom in those words. I haven’t thought much about those words until recently. Negative thoughts block the good things that can come to you, which is exactly what I did. Every day, I woke up with the lack of gratitude that God has given me another day to live. And, even though it may be a Chamber of Commerce picture perfect day, I couldn’t see the sun nor did I strain to find it. Many of us were taught to put ourselves last, and as a consequence, we begin to feel unworthy and undeserving. I am learning to change my lifetime habits by changing my thoughts. It may sound cold and harsh, but unless I can fill myself up with the good things of life, I have nothing to give anybody.

So, today, I saw the morning in a different light and I smiled when my feet hit the floor. I felt the familiar odd sensation brewing inside my heart, and thought, “Oh yes, it is good to be alive!” The stereo speakers released unconstrained rhythms off the walls throughout the house, and it made me smile as I thought about the special people in my world. And, if I’m not mistaken, I could almost swear that the brightly colored cardinal that was perched on the feeder next to the kitchen window was singing, “Welcome back to the magic of life!”

~Thank you, Jack for starting my day with this awesome NM sunrise!

...I want to be just like him...

Two blogs in one day...I think I just broke my record!

I have to quit writing so late at night. My mind doesn’t shut down when my head hits the pillow. It continues to search through that “junk drawer” for the next inspiring thought, the right word that’s hiding under the pile of nuts and bolts, or a memory that makes me jolt out of bed and back to my laptop. That didn’t happen last night, but, when I woke this morning the first thing I thought of is a curmudgeon. Strange, huh? I thought it was too.

Curmudgeon, an interesting word isn’t it? The first words that come to mind if I didn’t know what the word meant would be another description of a troll, an ogre, or an uncouth Neanderthal of sorts. We’ve all known a few curmudgeons throughout our life and right now, I can name a handful of them.



Not long ago, we went to the funeral of a business associate. The minister was a friend of the man who passed away. I remember my reaction when he referred to the deceased as a curmudgeon several times throughout the eulogy. I was stunned and almost appalled that someone, even a friend, would candidly speak about him in that way. As the minister proceeded to speak about his friend, he pointed out all the good he did and all the selfless hours he gave of himself to influence the youth in our community. I saw the expressions on many faces soften, many of those, including myself, who probably never knew a fraction of the things he was involved in, and I can truly say when the service was over, I am glad our paths have briefly crossed.

Today’s thoughts are not about the loss of someone I wish I knew better. It’s about how people perceive a curmudgeon. The label usually refers to a crotchety, ill-tempered old fart. A cynical party pooper who likes to piss on a parade once in a while…a pessimist, full of resentment and stubborn notions about too many subjects to list today. A good portrayal of some curmudgeon’s is done through primetime adult cartoons, for instance, when Homer Simpson’s dad, Grampa Abe Simpson (I had to google his name) comments on all the ugly people. Did he not look in the mirror? No, I don’t watch those kinds of shows. Unfortunately, I am one of millions who are subjected to seeing clips on the network that promote them. I consider it a waste of my time and my intelligence which I will never get back…but, maybe some of those writers know a few curmudgeons and poke fun of them while possibly trying to make a point. Who the heck knows.

The curmudgeon’s I personally know have a rough, in your face exterior, and scare most people off for one reason or another. Maybe it’s because they don’t have “happy” eyes. I’m not going to delve into those reasons, because there are too many scenarios, like there are too many personalities. But, if you ever get to know one, under that burnt crust lies a heart of gold, and he will “give you the shirt off his back” with genuine generosity and probably a smile on his heavy lined face. He’ll also tell you not to tell anyone or he’d have to kill you.

Curmudgeons are proud, but misunderstood. They walk a straight and narrow line, and most will tell you the truth, however blunt it may be. People don’t like hearing the truth and avoid confrontation with them, therefore, pegging them as opinionated assholes. I don’t know what made them the way they are. However, if you do know one, you can only surmise something happened in their past that made them who they are. But, (here’s the big but) then again, some may have just inherited the asshole gene. As I said before…who knows.

Once you get to know a few of these misunderstood curmudgeons, you will discover they are some of the most loving, kind and giving folks, you have ever known. Some of them are happy with themselves and boldly defend their convictions and/or the rights of others. Nothing seems to bother them. They can tell you where to go and give you instructions on how to go about doing it. They can balance their problems firmly on their large shoulders and gently let it roll down and bounce off their asses. And, they can do it without anyone seeing how it’s done.

Everyone puts a guard up to keep from being hurt or used at one time or another. Some of those guards are invisible as we are force fed the verbal abuse put on our plates. I’m tired of being prim, proper, and “nice.” I secretly envy curmudgeons. I always have, and I want to be like one. I want to be able to tell someone to f#%k off without guilt. I want to know where I can take lessons before I’m too old and don’t give a crap. So, if you or someone you know is willing to accept cash…I will be a willing participant!

Peace…

...To Whom it May Concern...

“I cry for what I know I can never have again, but smile because they live within me.”

I got a letter today. This sentence finished the beautiful memory my friend shared with me. Her memory made me smile, and it made me think of many of my own and all the people in my past who have made me smile and made me cry.

For the past two years, I have been on a journey of forgiveness for those who have hurt me and those I have hurt. I have succeeded in finding most of the people involved, except a few. Some things needed to be faced head on so I could finally more on to more important things in my life…this is my journey. “Has it been easy?” You ask. “Hell no!” It’s probably one of the most difficult things I have ever done. It has sucked my vitality, my serenity, and nearly my sanity. It nearly cost me my marriage and the loss of a few people who were especially close to me. But in the process, I have rekindled lost friendships that I never should have lost in the first place. For this I am thankful. For those I have hurt…please accept my apology. For those who have done the hurting…I forgive you.

"When one person forgives, the world moves a step closer to peace."

An Apology Letter To Whom it May Concern…

I realized the only way I can really move on is if I make amends. I know I have not handled sensitive differences in the healthiest way possible through the years. My usual reaction when I think I am being put into a corner is to come out fighting or to at least come out shouting: “I’M RIGHT AND YOU ARE WRONG.” That way of thinking has only made me angrier. Sadly, I know that my desire to be right was a major fault of mine in our entire relationship. I also know that many times I was the one who pushed me in a corner to begin with.

I now know that our problems were as much my responsibility as they were yours. I wish we spent as much time working to solve the issues as we did trying to cover them up. In the past, our relationship was more “push and pull” than “give and take.” But we were not always this way.

I remember some really good times and I have many fond memories. I hope you do too. I hope that you will focus on those memories rather than the ones that are painful. I am working to let go of the pain and release my state of suffering. I truly hope you understand and will do the same.

I will admit that I have a difficult time dealing with loneliness after being ostracized from the group. I know that you probably haven’t experienced that like I have. However, it has been in times that I was lonely that I discovered things about me that I had forgotten or that I didn’t know existed. So, although I have been sad, and with the help of some very special people, I’m grateful I’ve found “ME” in this.

In the Bible, I am reminded, “My Happiness is in the LORD!” It is through Him that I can be happy. It is also through Him that I can forgive. He gives the ultimate picture of forgiveness in sending his Son to die on the cross for the sins of the world. I am releasing the anger that I’ve held. I cannot hold on to it any longer. It is not healthy. It will not make me happy. It will not strengthen me in any other aspect of my life. The anger I have felt will only hinder me from moving on from this time in my life. I forgive you for everything. I ask for your forgiveness as well.

I'm so sorry we hurt each other. I want our kinship to be restored and want it to grow deeper than it was before this happened. I no longer hold you responsible for my actions, nor my thoughts and feelings. I forgive you for lashing out in fear and anger because you felt betrayed by me. I will no longer live my life in a shell. I will no longer disappear inside myself and be permanently invisible. I will no longer think I was not worthy to be part of life, of earth, and of God. I no longer want to live in a vicious cycle of justified resentment and blame.

I cannot guarantee I will not continue building walls to prevent even more pain from being stored behind them or for the stoic silence I displayed when my mind was screaming for release the only way I knew how. I forgive you for the tears you caused hoping I would eventually drown. I am proud I am a survivor of many ordeals and I will live my life to the fullest with or without you. God Bless.

Very Sincerely,

Your Wife, Your Mother, Your Sister, Your Victim, Your Friend…

...the night bled vermilion...

“If you had a bank that credited your account each morning with $86,400—with no balance carried from day to day—what would you do? Well, you do have such a bank...time.

Every morning it credits you with 86,400 seconds. Every night it rules off as "lost" whatever you have failed to use toward good purposes. It carries over no balances and allows no overdrafts. You can't hoard it, save it, store it, loan it or invest it. You can only use it—time.”


Pay no attention to the woman behind the curtain. She is trying to blend into the sterile surroundings clothed in her new pale French lavender faux pas gown accessorized with new fangled white bracelets. Its not the most becoming attire for the New Years celebration but it suits her well for the time being or until someone brings her the Terani Couture gown she purchased for the event at Eeyore’s Melancholy Hotel’s, “Bring it on,” New Year’s Eve Ball. The staff smiles and nods when they pass her reclining on the chaise lounge in the quiet corner, and kindly inquire if she is cold. They avoid her request to call for a taxi and tell her all her questions will be answered soon…

Partygoers found her after midnight staring into the water until it bled vermilion, disheartened that her constant long time companion, Zoë left her. Her friend left her high and dry many months ago, even her closest confidant didn’t notice the emptiness that filled the days without her. The woman was a seasoned actress. She fooled many pros with her well-rehearsed lines, executing the prepared words with specific details that were meticulously practiced without flaw behind closed doors. No one suspected anything was wrong. Her confident outward appearance and cool demeanor duped them all. The woman kept up the façade that her missing companion was on a hiatus and would return soon. But, it turns out, Zoë was not the loyal friend the woman thought she was for so many years. It’s been nearly two agonizing years and Zoë still did not return.

Zoë didn’t give any reason to why she left but it was rumored she could no longer provide a faithful service to the woman. The woman used her to her full capacity until she could no longer efficiently perform her duties. She never abused Zoë physically, but in time, Zoë knew her services would become a weak representation of her strength to help the woman and did not want to be the cause of her sorrow. Quietly and unnoticed, she slipped out the door and caught the next blue train out of the city.

“Who the hell does she think she is?” spewed the woman. “I can live without her and all her conditions. She’ll find out she needs me more than I need her.” But regrettably, in a very short time the tables were turned. Zoë happily started a new life with someone who needed her, leaving the distressed woman in dire need of a new companion. It was difficult organizing her thoughts and everyday tasks were piling up without help. The void was intensifying and nothing was getting done. Family and friends were no longer intrigued with the woman’s charm and talents when she chose to become somewhat of a recluse. No one understood her weaknesses, nor did they care. They turned their heads in shame, embarrassed that she could not make it through the day without a constant companion, and eventually left her alone. Worse than that, the 86,400 seconds God provided the woman each day was wasted. Every night for days, weeks, and months, she lost sleep because whatever she failed to use toward good purposes was gone forever. She was distraught, petulant, and ached with profound emptiness and sadness for the relationships and the time which was lost and squandered pointlessly away.

Without Zoë, the woman could not express coherently what was locked in her heart and hidden in the dark corners of her mind. Well, that was not altogether true, because even with Zoë’s tenacity; certain people chose not to articulate on the matter and would never know what was truly hidden inside of the vulnerable woman.

One tear after another gently escapes her closed eyes without smudging the woman’s mascara. Even in complete desperation, she tries to remain composed. She lays on her side, hands poised in prayer, her mind wanders back to past times when she was calmed by the warm touch of her mother’s hand…finally able to sleep…