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Growing Learning Loving

5 reasons why my brand is LOVE

I guess we can consider this an all-in-one Brand Positioning Statement, “About Me” bonus track, and a “Hero’s Journey” tale.

In my journey, I’ve had to overcome obstacles — just like you in your life and everyone else in their lives. It’s up to each one of us to decide how to make use of our experiences — whether they will hold us down or lift us up, and whether we’ll bring the people we encounter each day up or down with us.

I’ve decided that love is my purpose, and I want to bring others to a place of love as well. Here are five reasons why love is my reason for being.

5. Life is tough

I grew up just another kid of an alcoholic dad. At the time, if there were kids around me that had dads that were just as bad as or worse than mine, I didn’t know about it. I thought all of my friends’ dads were great. Therefore I didn’t just feel like the winner of the “worst dad” contest — I felt like I was the only one competing. (I realize now that was not the case, but that’s what it felt like when I was a kid.)

Dealing with the shame and low self-esteem brought on by my father’s alcoholism was a daily struggle. As such, the nicknames I earned from boyfriends included “Princess of Gloom and Doom,” “Grumpy Dumpy,” and simply “Baby.” And they were guys who actually cared for me quite a bit.

I was already carrying a bunch of mental baggage, to say the least. Then along came the stalker. He was convicted and my dad died within eight months of each other.

I’m the one that found my dad dead after all the alcohol finally rotted completely through one or more of his major organs. I was 25 years old.

One would hope with both of those situations at a close that life would simply go on from there with all the pain left in the past. But that’s not how humans work.

Over the next couple of years, I was trying to make sense of the world. I had lots of ups and downs — a lot of asking “why me?”

But then I decided I was ready for the pain, fear, and self-doubt to be over. I actually stood out in the middle of a field and made a commitment to the universe to do my best to grow stronger and become kind, honest, brave, and wise.

The Celts saw the oak tree as a symbol of truth, bravery and kindness.
Photo by Sebastian Beck on Pexels.com

But healing from all those years of trauma takes time. Imagine that my psyche was an hourglass. One bulb was reserved for hope and inspiration. Following the stalker and my dad’s death, that bulb was empty. The other bulb was reserved for pain and anger, and it held all the sand.

The day I made that commitment in the field to change my attitude, the hour glass was turned upside down. Each grain of sand fell one at a time through the narrow neck.

Even though the sand was slowly accumulating in the positivity and optimism bulb, there was still sand in the pain and anger bulb for a long while.

Over time, I was able to forgive my dad first, the stalker later. That took, no lie, around 25 years — almost the same amount of time for the trauma to accumulate in the first place.

When we’re willing to accept that life is tough but that we don’t have to allow the worst parts to be the biggest part of us, we are able to lift ourselves up from rock bottom to new heights of love and patience.

4. Life is short

Around the time I turned 30, I began counting up all the times throughout my life I had come out of some pretty dangerous situations completely unscathed. Not even counting my encounters with my dad or the stalker, there was a bad fall from some monkey bars; a runaway horse; an out-of-control carnival ride; a high-speed, head-on car crash; three one-on-one run-ins with demented men, and two near asphyxiations from carbon monoxide.

Don’t misinterpret this to think I was reckless and looking for trouble or attention. These all started out as everyday events that simply took a turn for the worse.

Beating the odds that many times felt like I was still here for a reason. I wanted to show my gratitude for having been given so many second chances. I wasn’t sure how many more near misses I had left in me, and I wanted to make a difference in the world somehow before my time here was through.

A dead tree contrasted with the infinite of space. We only have a short time on Earth to make a difference.
Photo by Matej Čurlík on Pexels.com

Then when I was in my early 40s my mom died suddenly from health complications. I was devastated. Completely unprepared for life without my biggest cheerleader.

Seven years later my niece suffered an accidental death. All the opportunities I wasted to tell her things I wish I had said. Or to do the things with her I wish we could have done together.

When we value life and accept that it is a temporary condition for each of us, we cherish time more meaningfully. We understand that we can’t take people for granted. We need to make the most of our relationships with people while we still have the time together. Embracing this makes it easier for us to forgive and give unconditional love.

3. It opens you up to possibilities

Two years after my mom passed, when I was still feeling abandoned, my desired career path came to an end. I was shocked that I was not successful in convincing everyone I was the right person for the job that I believed I was destined for.

But I couldn’t see myself the way others were seeing me. And I learned that’s not always a bad thing.

Although I didn’t love the decision my leaders had made for me (at first), I still loved them unconditionally, and I was willing to try things their way — to see where they thought my talents could take me.

Some say daisies are a symbol of new beginnings.
Photo by Taryn Elliott on Pexels.com

They placed me in a role where my primary job was writing. Then they asked me to mentor others as writers.

I enjoyed this role so much, I began writing for personal fulfillment. I began putting into words all the thoughts that I had been cataloging in my head for so many years. I wrote about my experiences and what I felt. I continued to write and think, and write and learn, and write and grow. That was the start of me becoming a storyteller.

Being a loving person means you are willing to be vulnerable. You risk getting hurt, but when you put yourself in the hands of people who you love and trust, you open yourself to possibilities that you might not have chosen yourself. You may find yourself journeying to a whole new place of learning and growing.

2. It gives you new purpose

When I was given the blessing of writing for a living, which turned out to be something I love to do, I had found purpose in my life. My talents, interests, and path were aligned.

I found a way that I could reflect on my experiences and write openly about how I got from there to here. I thought that maybe in telling my story, I could offer hope for someone who is in the place where I was — someone who wants to feel like they’re not in a “worst ever” contest all by their self.

Having a desire to help others through my storytelling gave new meaning to everything I had experienced. My bad times no longer felt like heavy baggage when I saw them as opportunities to maybe help someone else see their way through their own tangled mess of emotions.

Some feel the sunflower is a symbol of hope, happiness and renewal.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I decided to make it a real thing — me sharing my thoughts and experiences to help others learn, grow and love from their pain, fear and regrets. I wrote two books (one still unpublished), and I started this blog. I’m creating a silver lining not just for myself, but hopefully for others too.

Each one of us has innate gifts and circumstances through which we can manifest love and happiness. We’re not meant to hold these for ourselves or use the rewards for our own happiness. We are meant to share our lives with others — to experience the scary, crazy, and awesomeness of being human with others, to make life better for others.

1. It lets you change the world

I believe we each have the responsibility to contribute positively to the world around us. Not just going through our daily routines on auto pilot and complaining when something doesn’t meet our expectations. I mean making a conscience effort every day to put someone else’s needs first and to make a difference in someone else’s life.

I also believe that each one of us can make the world a better place. We don’t need to have a big voice or a vast platform. We just need to do what we can within our means, using our unique talents and opportunities, to make life better for those around us.

This hybrid tea rose is named "Peace." I bought and planted it in my yard during the riots following the death of George Floyd.

And that’s why my brand is LOVE.

I write for anyone who may have trouble seeing that everyday occurrences hold meaning about the purpose of our lives. I value optimism, and I prioritize continuous improvement. I believe that when we are able to let go of our pain and fear, we are able to turn our struggles into inspiration for others. Therefore, I hope to encourage you to keep learning and growing to become a more loving person. And in doing that, we’re all spreading seeds of love.

Thank you for spending these moments with me, thinking about life. If you like what you’ve read, I’d love for you to share it. Spread some seeds…

Categories
Growing

Remember the time I humiliated myself at the casino?

This weekend I faced my biggest fear since starting my blog. It’s the sole obstacle that kept me from blogging sooner.

What if I can’t think of anything to write?

Writer’s block. When it happens, I don’t try to strong-arm myself past it; I just let it go, confident that an idea will come to me when the timing and mood is right. But when I still didn’t have an idea a few hours before my self-imposed deadline for this week’s blog, I started getting nervous.

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

Then for some strange reason, I remembered a really embarrassing story about something that happened to me all the way back in high school. It’s a story I hadn’t thought about in decades.

That’s when I asked myself, “Am I so bothered by the thought of not publishing a blog each week that I’d rather tell an awkward story about myself than not post anything at all?” You betcha!

Have a nice trip…

I don’t remember what year it was in high school when one of my teachers decided to take our class to a casino-hotel in Atlantic City for a career day field trip. We went to learn about the hospitality industry and the kinds of job opportunities that were available.

Photo by Immortal Shots on Pexels.com

This was back in the day when there was a dress code for being in the casino-hotels. People got spiffed up to go out, and since this was a career day trip, I dressed for the occasion. I wore a suit that was first worn by my big sister.

I’ve always idolized my sister. I tell everyone she is the smarter, prettier, and nicer one. As a kid, I loved wearing her hand-me-down clothes. That suit of hers that I wore was a wool burgundy tweed skirt and jacket. My sister was a homecoming candidate her senior year, and this was the suit she worn to the homecoming football game.

When I reached high school and was able to fit into my sister’s homecoming suit, I felt like I could almost fill her shoes. Only, her shoes were a lot less slippery than mine.

…see you next fall!

The day of the trip, my classmates and I had ridden the one-hour bus drive from our school to the casino-hotel. We had sat through the presentation on hospitality careers and taken a brief tour of the main floors of the hotel. As we were heading back to the school bus, we needed to go down one more floor to the transportation entrance.

To get there was a long, grand stairway with ornate red and gold rugs. Meticulously polished brass railings lined the stairs from top to bottom. Overhead, beautiful crystal chandeliers sparkled like diamonds. And alongside the stairs ran two really long escalators.

At the Atlantic City casino-hotels, about 25 percent of the patrons are senior citizens, and on that day, it seemed like all 25 percent were in that stairway heading back to their buses the same time as us.

My classmates slowed and gathered in line to ride the escalator down. I thought to myself, “Why is everyone waiting for the escalator when there’s this amazing stairway that we can stroll down?”

I thought to myself, “Why is everyone waiting for the escalator where there’s this amazing stairway that we can stroll down?”

Hardly anyone was taking the stairs, so I thought I’d be slick by rushing down and being at the bottom to greet my classmates as they got off the escalator. I began scampering down the stairs in the brand-new burgundy flats that I had bought to match my sister’s suit.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t aware how slippery the unworn soles were. All of a sudden both of my feet flew out from under me, and I began sliding down the stairs swiftly on my butt.

After bump, bump, bumping down a few steps, one of my shoes flew off and crashed into a brass railing. It struck such a loud and vibrating “bong” that everyone turned to see what was happening.

An old man in front of me spun around in time to see me sledding on my butt straight toward him. His face lit up like he was suddenly remembering his glory days as a baseball catcher, and I was trying to steal home to win the championship.

He uttered a few “Oh! Ohs!” put up his hands and said, “I’ve gotcha, honey!”

Thank God I skidded to a stop before I had a chance to bowl over the sweet old man. Someone else came over to hand me my shoe, and I walked down the rest of the stairs holding tightly to the railing.

All’s well that ends well

You can imagine the jokes I had to listen to from my friends who watched my not-so poised and graceful decent. But I’m pretty sure everyone had forgotten about it by the next day.

So, yes, there is a seed for thought even in this story. It relates to keeping a clear perspective on things in order to overcome fear or stress. The classic “what if” approach can work if you allow yourself to consider, “what if… a week goes by and I don’t have a topic to write about?” Am I more worried that others will see me as a disappointment or that I’ll see me that way? The truth is that either way life will go on.

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Writing my blog is supposed to be fun, but worrying about make-believe deadlines negates the point. So much of what we worry about and put pressure on ourselves for is not life-or-death situations. Yet we get lost sometimes in our perspective and treat them that way anyway. In doing so, we miss out on the joy, beauty, and laughter of life around us.

It’s more important to enjoy life and to laugh at ourselves–at the imperfections of ourselves–than to try being flawless all the time. For example, on that career day field trip, I wanted to appear sophisticated and all grown up, like how I saw my sister in that suit. But I ended up falling down the stairs and having my friends laugh at me.

But what if… I change my perspective just a little bit. I can see it’s possible that both things happened. What if… I achieved the most sophisticated-looking fall of anyone who’s ever gone down a flight of stairs on their butt. And when I stopped, turned and curtsied to the crowd once I was standing solidly at the bottom of the stairs, what if… my ability to laugh at myself was the most grown-up thing I did that day.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

When we put too much pressure on ourselves — especially around things that are supposed to be fun, we’re not enjoying life to its fullest. Life is too short to sweat the small stuff. Give yourself a break. Also, use sandpaper or a nail file to scuff the bottoms of new shoes. They’re less slippery that way.

Thank you for spending these moments with me, thinking about life. If you like what you’ve read, I’d love for you to share it. Spread some seeds…