Hustle and heart

So, I wanted to write a blog, but the topic…well, there were too many. I couldn’t isolate, narrow down, minimise.
I still have a story to tell, but now is still not the time *put the popcorn away*. That’s for a more level-headed later.
Instead of trying to make coherent sense of all the thoughts, I’ll just write a list instead. Of…things. Things in my week, thoughts, realisations, learnings, re-visits, angers, delights & other…things.
It’s not advice-I’m not qualified or self-assured enough to give it. It’s just ramblings, because I’ve had a tiring week (mine work differently to yours) and today was hard. I was angry and venomous, and I knew it. I need to find some positivity, so I can find sleep, and wake up in a better frame of mind. There has been so much rapid change, I needed to find ground, run my toes through it’s sand, then dig them in deeper and feel the grains.1.’Things’ can be hard to let go of. It’s hard not to relate the things we own, to being a part of who we are, so in many cases, it can be hard to let go of them. If we have them for a long time, each passing minute makes us feel like they are more ingrained in our character…but they are not. The things we own, are merely a reflection of who we are-an extension. We are no less without them, and if we let them go, we make room. For new things, other things, or simply just open space. We create a gap that can be filled with change and forward motion. Sometimes we need to de-clutter our lives to make it better, or give ourselves the opportunity to redefine our image, or bolster/rediscover our sense of self. Letting go of anything important is not easy, but it can be so very worth it.

2. Sometimes the smallest gestures make the biggest impact. A smile can bring a smile, a helping hand can bring a blessing (Actually it was “Bless your heart, and every other part”-Haha), remembering a name lights up eyes, or circumstance, and knowing unexpected things brings engagement to another level. Say hello, use their name, pat their dog…just making an effort means the world to some people.

3. Know who you are. Don’t be afraid of it. Your emotions and moods and quirks. Your fetishes and fantasies, dreams and reality, passions and peeves. Take the time to get to really know what you like and dislike, and how you react to things. Be ok, with you. Really know…and understand it. NEVER apologise for it.
4. Accept who you are-own it! There is NOBODY else out there on the planet like you. Be brave enough to feel, to love, to anger, to react, to defend, and to do exactly what you want and how you want (as long as you’re not hurting others intentionally in the process). And I mean how YOU want. Not how others think you should, or how it is expected. You are enough, and there are plenty of people out there that know that, or soon will. If you ever feel like you are not enough, or too much for people…then they are not your people. 5. Don’t settle. Life is a journey, and a tough one. Adulting sucks, and loss and heartache and loneliness. But love…love doesn’t suck. It can be amazing if you do it right. And puppies are awesome, and warm pan au chocolat, and walking in fresh air, and new places, and good (or if you’re lucky-fantastic) sex, and roast dinners, and pampering, and loud music and, and, and….
Small delights are to be found in every day. We hurt and heal. We experience a huge amount of emotion, and there are adventures everywhere if we stay open to them. You never know where being honest and brave can take you. Settling is a limitation we place on ourselves when we don’t feel we can do, or get, or deserve any better. Don’t settle, please. Please.
6. Love and like are completely different things. When we love someone, or are in love with them, we just are. They can do silly, awful, disrespectful, hurtful, or indifferent things to us, and we continue to love them, just because…we do. The human heart and brain don’t always see eye to eye. But that said, we can still feel the impact of those things…we can still not like them for what they do, or who they are, or how they are. We can still get angry or upset with the things, the words, the lack of anything. But love is steadfast. We just need to understand the difference, and act accordingly. Because no matter how much you love anyone else, the first person should always be yourself.Well, stick a fork in me…I’m done, and as someone said to me in the week..it’s getting too late for philosophy or anything that doesn’t involve sex. Time to join the monsters on, and under, my bed.
Goodnight Kids, thanks for listening.
V

Spray-paint, name tags & great coffee.

I promised you my story…but it will have to wait for another day. Today is a little cloudy, and while things sort themselves into fashionable order, I will take the opportunity to just share a few ‘in the meantime’ thoughts.

I’m having a night. One of those ones I haven’t seen in a while. It’s not exactly ‘bad’…just flat and grey and I know in the corner of my mind, like a catching a fleeting glimpse of something…something is not quite right.
It’s been a long week. Oh…hang on…It’s been a long few months!!

While I haven’t been super forthcoming with details (with nearly anyone-don’t worry, you’re not being singled out) my whole life has changed. Why?…because I made it so. Because it had to, to save my sanity and self respect. Because there just comes a time when it should. And I knew it was exactly that time. Time for change.
Someone said to me this week, that it seemed I had a new ‘persona’. It was interesting, because all it really meant, was that that person had never seen/noticed this side of me before. I haven’t changed, I’m just more of me than I was before. I still can’t decide what I want from a menu in less than (at least) 5 minutes. I still have trouble crawling from underneath warm covers in the morning. I still have an unquenchable thirst to create and be inspired. I still run through the house singing, and crash tackle my dogs when they’re not expecting it. I still love rainy nights in and clear nights out. Strong coffee always features in my day and I smoke cigarettes.
Those things are parts of who I am, but they are not all of who I am.
Maybe the thing that’s changed, or just become more obvious, is that now I have found this place that I love. A place I actually want to be, explore, and let inspire me. And I know what I do want, don’t want, and what I deserve. My boundaries and desires have become quite clear. And from somewhere, I have tapped back into my reserve of independence & self-confidence to establish in my mind, that I am completely capable of achieving.

You see, through my life I have been respectively told that I am nothing, nothing without someone else, that I am plain, and that I …cannot. And I have repeatedly taught myself that I can.
Maybe I am not pretty or feminine or delicate. Maybe I don’t inspire second glances or stand out in a crowd…but I am beautiful and colourful for who, and as, I am.
Maybe I don’t make the most money. Maybe I am not a world celebrated artist or business owner. Maybe I have not grappled my way to the top…but I am proud of my achievements and strength.
And maybe I cannot do everything I try…but at least I try.

And now I am here, in this brand new chapter, feeling pretty brand new. I am experiencing new things, and trying to feel every moment of the present for just what it is. 3 weeks ago, someone I had literally just met, looked at me and asked me point blank “Do you always run away from things?” And I replied…”No, I’m not running away…I’m moving forward”. It was either forward or down, and I decided I’m not ready to go down just yet.
One day I might tell you where I am, and what has changed, but right now that’s just geography. The important stuff, is where I’m at. And it’s a better place.

It’s pre-school bedtime hours for me tonight kids. Have to be up early with the morning people, but I’ll be around the way again soon.
Hope you are all well, and looking for your better place…if you haven’t already found it. Maybe you have and you just don’t know it?
Cheers
V

 

Here

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I sat for a minute, lay down, not knowing what else to do.
There are, there are things to do, but what they are escape me right now.
The music puts its foot on my chest and holds me down and I don’t even try to wonder how. It says all the things I won’t understand.
I am existing. In this room. In this place, between nowhere and nowhere else.
It’s grey and rainy, and the weight is everywhere I can see.
Warm fur nestles to my side, begging that I love, feel, and the memories just flow, leak, roll.
The face I can see, and don’t see, and the hand I can’t touch, slides into my own. The heart I can’t reach, beats behind my eyes, pushing each tear to the point of overflowing.
That heart is gone, wherever mine is, they have run away together, but I am still here.
There are things to do. Important things, unimportant things. But what and which, is what and which?
The voice changes, the music, the song. It always changes.
And the chair sits in the corner and rocks, laments days when it was an important thing.
The scents leak from the cupboard. Things hidden away, nestle together in the comfort they can no longer give.
And the call beckons softly, to find another place, other things. To pack the music up and take it away with me.
The warm body next to me huddles closer. A tear licked away. A soft snuffle. Please?
I am here for the love you cannot give. The things that are gone. I am here.
I am here.
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Void

Want to know what it feels like, to have a man, that has claimed to love you for over 13 years, sell you dreams, and keep you living in hope, tear your heart out in one swipe? Me too…because right now, I’m not feeling anything. Oh…I know I will. I know that in a few hours, when the shock subsides (not the shock of it happening-just the feeling) I will feel it. I’m imagining it similar to all the other times, but more of Mack truck like effect. Because this is it. The last time.
I know…drama drama drama right? But he ended it, again, and this time it’s done. Not because he says it is…but because I don’t have the energy to keep fighting. Not because I don’t love him, but because I just can’t do it any more. I can’t.
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Right now I’m just a huge messed up ball of anger, and hurt and confusion. Right now I want to hurt somebody, and if nobody gets in my way, I’m guessing it will be me. Right now, I don’t care about anything or anyone, much less myself.
 But in the morning, when I can see clearly enough, process the thoughts that are spinning in an out of control fashion around my head currently, in a weakly diluted (okay barely diluted at all) bath of wine and whiskey…I’m going to feel every single little part of the hurt, and betrayal and loss.17362774_1027317360737433_2339336717897629705_n
Someone said to me tonight “It was a betrayal of love, and a betrayal of you. You fight for love, and he plays with it”. Well, I don’t like this game, and I can’t play it any more. I have fought for too long, to get to the castle, to be told that the game is over before it begins. And the thing with games, is that they come with consequences. If you land on the corner square, you go to jail. If you land on a ladder, you slide down it. If you hurt somebody, that is strong enough to have dealt with your bullshit for 5 fucking years (not including the stint 8 years before that again), you need to expect, that before they are gone, they will show you what it’s like to feel.
17012372_10211245417504954_1407257881_n.pngConsequences. Something he has never had to deal with. Because he trusts that he is loved, and while love has never been enough for him to return, to commit to, he thinks it is enough to protect him.
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He says he wants to be alone, period. So, he can be. And I will make sure of it. Vindictive-sure. Vengeful-maybe. Justice-fuck yes. I’m guessing at this point, there may be a person or two out there, wondering just how much they have under-estimated me, or my affinity for evil? For truth? Perhaps even under-estimated my lack of resourcefulness and memory? And I can say this, because I’m a bottle of wine and half a dozen good (fuck your Scotch) Irish whiskies to the wind. I can say it because lack of inhibition, apparently lets me say whatever I want, to whoever I want (those people know who they are tonight, and I regret nothing!)

But for now, I will sob, and despair, and be fucked up. Let all who wish to judge, kiss my lily-white arse. I deserve to feel exactly how this feels to me. I deserve to hurt and bleed and pine, and ache and long. I deserve to feel what this man has done to me for so long, that I may be able to one day, finally, let go of all of the light and goodness, that I see in him, still. I deserve to grieve and be hurt, and be bitter, and angry and resentful. I deserve to question and doubt, and know that he has done the wrong thing to me, when all I ever wanted for him was good. I deserve to know that I didn’t do this. that I was not to blame. That I have nothing to be ashamed of. That LOVE is nothing to be ashamed of.
5f1e127976647cf347fb3500479d4a93You see, all along, people have said that losing love is like grieving a loss. And I have known both, so not to diminish anything, but…there’s this. This. This is a decision. He decided that love was not enough. that I was not enough. He decided not to choose me. He weighed up the options, of which there are countless, thought about it…and decided that he didn’t love me enough. Loss is not a choice. this. This is a choice. I was not enough.

It is not my fault, I know. But it is my pain to bear. That this person I love so very much, my soulmate, the person I would give everything for, that told me until this week began that he loved me, wanted me…thinks I am not enough for him. He would be alone, over making a life with me. He would choose nothing, over me. Let that sink in, because it’s taking a while for me.
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So now, I’m going to go and try and sleep this off. This initial fucked up knee-jerk reaction to pain. I will wake up feeling sick and worse off for it, and steel myself to go to work and put on a brave face, when all I want to do is be alone and feel the entirety of this…void. And maybe he’ll show enough respect to just explain anything, and maybe he won’t. I don’t know why he’d start now, to be honest. It doesn’t seem that it’s been a high priority to this point. But the consequences…they will come. After all, who am I to stand in the way of a mans true desires?

Goodnight Kids. Don’t let the bedbugs bite. Or Karma.
V

 

Shades of Grey

The last few weeks have been grey. I’d say black, but black is black…devoid of all light and hope, and they weren’t that, but for a few moments. Those moments felt like forevers at the time, but they were only moments never the less, and they passed. Grey is just bleak, with the light trying to shine through, but failing in part.
Nothing went epically wrong, it’s just that nothing went particularly right either. Lots of small things amounted to an almost overwhelming sense of disappointment and failure. It’s a feeling that I know is exaggerated and untrue, but emotions are the hardest thing for most of us to control, and you can either shrug it off as the professionals do, or submit to it.
The vivid, bad dreams, the small problems and setbacks, the lack of prospects, people that matter giving a distinct lack of fucks…all added up to grey. The emotions were running at an all time high, and I guess I just gave in for a while. You can only stay positive for so long, until a pressure crack forms and starts to let this stuff in.

I guess what all that grey added up to, was a massive amount of thinking, over-thinking and searching. I felt disappointed…in myself more than anything else. That I am trying so hard to not only stay above everything, but move forward and do better things, and it’s not happening yet. That it’s all so slow and time-consuming with no fast result. I have made all of these decisions and choices to change things, and they are just staring back at me, with this quizzical expression on their inanimate faces. And then I start to wonder, if any of it will make one fucking iota of difference in the scheme of things anyway? (Did I mention the over-thinking?).

This grey washes everything out, and brings with it, a lack of motivation, which in turn makes everything worse. I can see this unfold before my eyes, and just feel horribly apathetic about the whole shebang. ‘Housework can wait, this is too much effort, that goes in the too hard basket, nobody gives a fuck anyway, who’ll ever know, what’s the point??’
But the truth of it, is that it doesn’t matter who else knows, or gives a fuck…because I should. Because I want to. Because I do.

I spoke with a friend last night, and we arrived at pretty much this conclusion too. That, if the ultimate meaning of life has escaped everyone else thus far, then it probably doesn’t realistically exist, or if it does, we are to find our own. That we are all just here to live out our days, and then move on. So living is what we should do. To make the most of what we have, are, do.

That all sounds easy enough right? Until another person comes into your equation and makes it all the more complicated. It changes your perspective of life, and the meaning of it. It changes your ideas, of what you want from time, without you even consciously realising it. And then, there you are one day, sitting there wondering how the fuck everything blindsided you in plain sight. How did it all change so much? How did you let this happen? Did you agree to it? Did you ask for it? Do you want it? Wtttfffff?? So many shades of Grey. (I did mention the over-thinking right?)
And of course, most days you can keep on keeping on, being hopeful, being resilient, being positive, being deflective, being cheerful, being fake, being strong, being productive, being closed, being ignorant, being…busy.
Those things are not always as bad as they sound either. Being busy and productive, will eventually lead to better things, if I just keep at them. Looking for better work, will mean more inspiring things, to consume my time and bring higher purpose and confidence. A new horse in the stable will lead to less stress and better access to opportunity. More time spent on purposeful things, will mean less time to spend over-thinking (I believe I did mention that pastime previously) the void. But emotionally, it still leaves gaps that can’t be filled with work, or money.

I guess this is where the hope comes into it. The notion that allows me to get one foot in front of the other every day, despite the muscle resistance to do so. The belief that intentions can translate to reality, and words into actions. The hope that, when the universe has repeatedly sustained its idea, that some things are destined somehow…that perhaps there is substance to that. That, some things cannot be denied, despite the struggle.
So, after that somewhat disjointed rant, which seemed perfectly fluid as I wrote it, I’m going to keep doing some of the productive, busy stuff. To keep trying to changes those shades to a more defined colour, and keeping hope that one day, the palette will reflect brighter colours.

Stay busy, or stay happy Kids.
V

New Year, just me.

The new year has finally started. Not a huge turning point from a lot of angles, but a select few perhaps. While the turn of the clock really doesn’t signify more than the fact that a few more minutes have expired, some see it as the magical unicorn of hope. The time to start afresh, move forward, leave the old behind. And while it may just be all rubbish, why spoil the moment for those who believe? If something can give someone hope…as long as hope isn’t the only thing they have, as long as it’s paired with something realistic, then let it.
whoAs for me…I’m on both sides of that fence. I’m cleaning out some old baggage, and opening new chapters too. Not ‘new year, new me’ stuff, but I just want to do better things for, and with, the ‘me’ I have always been. Most of you don’t know much about who exactly that is. You have heard my rants, opinions, memories, whinging, goals and motivations, but not a great deal about the ticking mechanisms, or where those thoughts come from…so here’s a little insight to start the new years reading…

38e33ad805fb7e4ea49225097a22a22aI believe in giving things your all. If you are going to jump into something, why not head first? Sure, you can take calculated guesses as to how deep it may be, but if you’re going to jump regardless, then just jump. If I am not sure about something, I’ll procrastinate and fuck about with it. But, I am passionate about the things I love or believe in, and there is no halfway with that. In loving, fighting, helping, fixing, there is only ‘do or do not do’. Why half-arse it when you can whole arse it?

x16 I have been so, so, so fucking hurt. And I’m not talking like the, ‘oh we were together for a while, but it didn’t work out’ kind, but deep down, to my soul, betrayed on every level, never recover, kind of hurt. 14 intermittent years of hope, love and forevers, wrapped in “I love you’s”, disintegrated into nevers, by empty promises and deceit. The last year came paper-thin close to ending me, mentally and physically (and no I’m not just being dramatic).

4e1fce29654d5c4fda70429d9354edb6I am not as naive, gullible or stupid as a lot of people, and a specific few, think I am.  Sure, I let a lot of things slide for the ones I love, but more often than not, it doesn’t mean that I don’t know the truth. I’m sure there have been plenty of times, that a well spoken lie has served its intended purpose, but each one inflicts doubt and hesitation. And many…well, often I choose to let hope persuade me to believe what I want, over what could be…
x8I still believe in true love. Even with all the cracks and fuck-ups (hey nothing’s perfect right?), I still believe in true love, soulmates, destiny of path and all that other hippy shit. The problem is that I may be the last living soul on the planet that does, which puts a small hiccup in the plan. Unfortunately you can’t do it alone.
x9 This man, this dark and hurtful man, I love. Denying it would be the most transparent veil of a lie I could ever tell. I no longer try to understand it more than I do, and I expect it will never change. I have no intention to try and do so. But I need to somehow learn to love myself just enough…to know that what he gave me was not love.
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Love is about taking chances, and showing strength via weakness and vulnerability, honesty, respect, taking responsibility, keeping promises and not giving up. If he ever really wanted it at all, he gave up. Maybe long ago. I have not given up. I just gave in, because I had to.
x4I text/message back fast. I always have my phone in reach. Not because I want it to ring, but because I want ‘my people’ to know that they have someone. Someone who is listening, and cares…enough. I may go off grid for a while every now and then, when it all gets too much (sorry for the last two weeks), but everyone needs somebody, for when they need somebody. And don’t ever try to kid yourself, that that’s not you. We all do.

x10Although I feel dark, broken and twisty, I can still be ridiculously and surprisingly optimistic. It’s like this huge conflict of hope and hopelessness. I think I just need to see that somehow, something can change or get better, because I need a light ahead to keep going. When a part of me gives up completely, the other half drags it up by the collar (like that sober friend that carries you out of the club?) and refuses to let it stay all the way down.
I can’t take all of the credit for that however, I owe a lot to my dogs. They have given me a reason to stay grounded, stay coherently (sometimes) sober, and well…just, stay.

vwm15731014_10210694712697678_278154594_nI love art, music and dogs (and in no particular order). I have dogs, I help dogs, I foster and rescue dogs, I stop and pat random dogs. Dogs.
I do commission artwork (lots of dogs), tattoos, as well as whatever takes my fancy at the time. It helps me focus, takes my mind of other things, and lets me feel productive and worthy of something all at once. This year I am concentrating more on it, and have three commissions in the works currently.
Music is my soundtrack to life. I have a stupid number of playlists for every mood and occasion. It plays 99% of every day. I find both solace and happiness in it, in listening to other people tell their stories.

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I have a total love/hate relationship with myself. There are days where I look at myself and shudder, hating on everything I see, and days where I shrug it off, and accept that I am who I am. I refuse to apologise for it any more, if I piss people off, intimidate them, annoy them, or offend them, just by being who I am. I am almost 40, and beyond pandering to people, who would only accept the romanticised version. I know I could be fitter and healthier, and when the time is right (very soon), I will be. I don’t see someone beautiful in the mirror, often just plain and messy, yet I am told otherwise from time to time. The bad stuff is often easier to believe. I’m working on that.

I have a lot more patience than people assume I have. Sure, I can be spontaneous, impetuous and reactive. Yes, I can get bothered if some things don’t happen straight away, or the way I thought they would. If I’m willing to do something without hesitation, it’s difficult to watch others wait. But if a game it all is, then a game, you play with strategy. One chooses their battles, makes alliances, researches the facts and perfects their timing. Never underestimate the other players.

My people are ‘my people’. My friends are odd, broken, experienced, tough, survivors, weathered, scarred, beautiful and just a little twisted. The most common traits include love of animals, warped sense of humour, inability to tolerate stupid fuckers, capability to speak their truth openly, staying up late on school nights, and lack of judgement toward others for their differences (sexuality, colour, race, fetishes, etc). They are open-minded, intelligent and passionate.  They have tattoos and sailor mouths, but respect when necessary. They are not offended easily, partake in devil drinks and love music. They analyse, dissect, empathise, question. These are my people. I could count them on two hands (I’m lucky). And I love them.

70b48daa206a02a8533875cfdea0ee5fSo there you go Kids. A whole heap of stuff from the more intrusive, slightly uncomfortable to write, ‘all about me’ section. Maybe if I ever do this again, it will sound chirpier and less ‘meh with more ‘yay’. There’s a whole year ahead..and then another one..and another.

Cheers
V

 

 

Ho ho huh?

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So…it’s that jingly, kris kringly, tinselly, carolly, fucking annoying, cheerful time of year again. A time I no longer look forward to on any count at all. I used to be one of ‘those’ people. You know, the kind that never gets over the wonder of tinsel. I didn’t think anything could ever ruin that for me. I won’t bother explaining the reasons, for those who don’t know the story, but let’s just say it has lost it’s shine. All of it. In fact I almost wish it didn’t even happen at all now.

This year was hard for me. I know we all have them-hard days, hard years, hard times. I’m not complaining. It’s not a ‘poor me’ blog. I made it through. I’m still here. In fact probably more of me than before, because hard times are a test of strength, endurance and help you grow within yourself.
6631b825b216cdc90c0df0261367b7adWhen things go wrong, it makes you ask ‘why?’ It inspires change, innovation and reckoning. It provokes acceptance and forgiveness of yourself and others. It urges you to choose paths, find solutions and try and make things ‘better’. It makes you figure out exactly what, and who, is important to you. Yourself included.
“The desire for more positive experience is itself a negative experience. And, paradoxically, the acceptance of one’s negative experience is itself a positive experience.”-The subtle art of not giving a fuck, Mark Manson.
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You see, I think for the majority of life, we just walk along the path in front of us without question. We take what comes our way and deal with it. We stick to this path, because we feel it is ours, or perhaps we have chosen it, or committed to something on it. We wander, hand on the guide-rail, sometimes even looking over the edge, mildly inquisitive, to see what’s out there. For a very long time, we don’t consider climbing that rail, because what we are already dealing with seems enough.
life-changesWe become scared to diverge, or even worse, content to walk straight on. But…what if? What if change, breaking free, was the path we were supposed to take? Or it’s better, or easier…or happier? It sounds like I’m going with the ‘grass is greener’ theory here, but that’s not it at all. What I’m saying is, what if…we have changed as we walked that original path, and we become destined for something different as we grow?
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We are all hurting, struggling, missing someone, losing something, trying to make right decisions, trying to live, or just survive. Every one of us. We are all hiding things, bottling emotions, holding back, using coping mechanisms, keeping brave faces. We are all wondering if we are right, settling for less and hoping for more.  Every one of us. Every. Damn. One.
“Almost universally, the kind of performance we give on social media is positive. It’s more ‘Let me tell you how well things are going. Look how great I am.’ It’s rarely the truth: ‘I’m scared. I’m struggling. I don’t know.’” -Ego is the enemy, Ryan Holiday.
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“Nobody will protect you from your suffering. You can’t cry it away or eat it away or starve it away or walk it away or punch it away or even therapy it away. It’s just there, and you have to survive it. You have to endure it. You have to live through it and love it and move on and be better for it and run as far as you can in the direction of your best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by your own desire to heal.”
Tiny beautiful things-Cheryl Strayed 

When it comes down to it, the answer we need to know…is what we want. What, in life, can give us peace. What makes you feel so absorbed that you forget the world is waiting outside the front door? What makes you forget to check your phone? What makes you want to live in the moment that it should never end? Whether that’s a person, a place, a hobby, a job, a thing or a mix of many. What we are passionate about, willing to fight for, lose sleep over, hold hope for, work toward…
c81b049952f4d7922f8c489379161d7aAnd, as a new year is peeking over the horizon at us like a devious cat, what better time to put thought into how we can get it? How we can change survival and contentment into living. Once this whole tinsel strewn, tumultuous affair is over, and the wrapping paper settles…
6b8eb3ebe7967e80bfd9e4ada4d6a116So, at the risk of sounding at all festive…what do you truly want, not just for Christmas, but for life, for yourself? I have a list. It’s very short, but it’s important. Every thing on the list would change life as I know it, and if you are reading this now, you are either part of the journey ahead, or spectators to it. Either way, I promise you, it will be filled with hope and passion and love (and perhaps just a drop of sarcasm).
resoluteHold your someones and your dreams extra tight Kids, and don’t let go.
Cheers
V