Purpose

Upon waking this morning, I opened my current self-inflicted reading assignment, One Day My Soul Just Opened Up, by Iyanla Vanzant. To no surprise, today’s topic pertained exactly to my current state of being.

Funny how a book can do that.

The chapter lesson for today was Service. When I read the title, I was sure that it was going to go on about doing charity work, community service and the like. I was wrong. It spoke of living out your true life’s purpose and trusting that it will be enough to sustain you.

“Service is the act of doing what you love for the sake of loving it. This is the highest work you can do in the world. Service is the divine multiplier. When you perform an act of genuine service, giving of your time, energy, and resources as an act of love, the universe will multiply what you do and reward you with greater results than expected.”

-Excerpt from, One Day My Soul Just Opened Up, by Iyanla Vanzant

I’m sure I’m not the only person who feels that what they are truly passionate about doing, is NOT a way to sustain them financially. Even if I took the time out of my day to dedicate myself to doing what I truly love, how in the world could I make enough money (or any money) doing it, to pay all my bills?

The idea of trusting the universe enough, to be able to let go of trying to control my income and just follow my passion, is ultimately stimulating to me. I cannot think of a more beautiful concept than, “letting go & trusting.”

I have a very hard time letting go. From the morning I wake up in the morning, my to-do list begins accumulating in my head. The second my feet hit the floor (sometimes even before that) I feel guilty for not having accomplished that never-ending list.

How peaceful my life would be, if I could only let go of that to-do list… and follow what my soul is leading me to do instead. If I could only trust that if I follow my passion, the rest of my needs would be met?

I can’t help but wonder how this would all work out. How in the world is the universe going to provide financially for me, if I don’t go to work on Monday?

I think that is the point. The point is that you don’t know. The point is: realizing that you have no freaking idea how things will pan out… but accepting that is perfectly okay.

I’m not saying that as of now I quit my job and trust that the universe will send me a paycheck anyway. I feel that may be a little premature (and also my spouse may hate me.)

However, I may just make a little more effort towards making time for my passions. (I think I can give up an hour or two of mindless YouTube watching in the evenings.)

Maybe in doing so, I will find some unforeseen way of allowing my purpose to provide for me…instead of me trying to provide, just so I have some spare time for my purpose.

Cheers to you doing the same,

-H

My Moment.

I have had a really hard time being bisexual lately.

Like, really hard.

I keep feeling like i’m trying to convince myself that I’m just straight. I keep feeling like I’m stuck somewhere in the middle and I just want to settle into one category or the other. But being bisexual is it’s OWN category. You universally feel an attraction to all sexes of people, be it man, woman, transgender, gender-fluid or some other category of sexuality.

The best way that I can think of how to describe it to someone who is either straight or gay would be this:
It’s like how people who are not racist do not “see” people by their skin color – they just see people. I don’t limit sexual attraction to any specific gender, my spiritual sexuality just “sees” the electrical attraction and not the sex of that person that I’m attracted to.

And let me also take this moment to state the obvious (but still not widely-understood)..
Being bisexual does NOT mean that you are sexually active with all people….. just as being gay does not mean you have sex with all other gay men… or being straight does not mean that you have sex with everyone of the opposite sex. Bisexuals are still committed to their partners, just as much as anyone in a committed relationship. People still feel attraction regardless if they are with a single partner or not. Our bodies are hard-wired to feel sparks of sexual energy… and in many different forms.

My sexuality certainly does not define me as a person, but it is a HUGE part of how I view the world and in turn who I am at my core. 

All that to say… I decided a couple weeks ago that I was finally going to come out to my parents. Feeling so compelled to be true to EVERYTHING that I am… but not being able to actually BE that person around those that you love the most… hurts on a level too deep to comprehend. I’ve wanted for years to be open with them about who I am.

I live across the country from them and this is certainly not a conversation that I want to have on the phone. This past weekend we were getting together for a family camping trip, which just happened to fall on the very same weekend as Pride. I’ve gone to Pride for the past three years and had no intention of missing it, but family is more important… especially when I don’t see them near-enough.

When I realized that I would be missing Pride, at first I was sad. Pride is the number one time of the year when I feel “okay” with being the real version of myself in regards to sexuality. But I had a thought, what if I take this occasion of solitude with my family (coupled with the energy that Pride would be sending into the universe) and finally come out  to my parents? The idea alone brought me a peace that was utterly divine.

So, I went to see them and finally found my moment:

I was driving us all back from a dinner out on the town. I brought up the fact that Pride was that weekend and how bummed I was about missing it, even though I was happy to be with family instead. But then something unexpected happened. Before I could really even get into why I loved Pride so much…before I could say how wonderful it was to be in a group of people who just accepted each other for who they were… my speech was brought to a halt.

First, my mom made her opinion very clear, “Being gay is a sin.” When she was done speaking my dad made his opinion known that he didn’t like Pride because it, “Encouraged people to be gay.” They both went on to say that being gay was “a choice” that people made. They made it even clearer that it was the wrong choice.

The word choice cut through me like a knife. Who in their right-mind would choose to be gay??? Being gay led me into decades of shamefully hiding who I was. Being gay is what got other kids beat up in school. Being gay is a huge part of why I’ve never felt like it was okay to be my true self. Being gay is what caused this giant feeling of shame within me that I carry around every moment of every day!

My heart sank. Broke might be a better word. All the hope that I had been building up to finally feel free to be myself, was drowned by a sea of shame.

I countered their remarks without hesitation and continued to speak up for gay people. I told them that I thought that “sin” had nothing to do with being gay and how people are “encouraged” to be straight everyday, so what was the difference?! Regardless how much I stood up for the other gay people in the world – I never stood up for myself.

The one person who I’d hoped to bring relief to through that conversation… never got her chance to show her true self, finally surface and breathe.

So here I sit.
Still covered in shame.
Still hoping i’ll be able to speak up one day. For myself.
Still not able to fully breathe.

I naively think that there is no one else out there that feels the way I do,
feeling shame just for being who you are.
But unfortunately, I know there are many of you.
Please… don’t chicken out like I did.
Decide that you are going to be real with not only the general world, 
but with those who matter most to you.
If they don’t accept you,
remember that that is okay.
I can venture a guess that they still love you deeply…
Even if they cannot come to terms with a part of who you are.

(That is the advice that I wish I would have told myself in that moment.)

If we continue to live out the process of being real with the world
it with bring about a power within us that is greater than any indifference.

Love can change the world.

One moment at a time.

and I will find my moment.

Peace & Acceptance,

-H

App. Trail : Part One (Carver’s Gap to 19E)

The Appalachian Trail: Carvers Gap Parking. 

The day began with a two hour drive up the mountains (and a stop at Waffle House.) At around hour 1.5 we realized we should have heeded my mom’s warning and stopped for gas before we left… so we turned around to head back into town to fuel up which added about an hour to the trip overall. So in reality, the day began with a 2.5 hour drive up the mountains (and a stop at Waffle House.)

When we finally reached the parking lot, it was filled. Our hopes for solitude were questionable at that point. We soon found that once we left the parking area, being on our own became a usual occurrence. Groups passed us here and there, but for the most part it was just the three of us: my mom, my dad and me.

We were met with this sign at the head of the trail.

I was beyond excited. I’d been reading about The Appalachian Trail for months now. I’d spent hours watching YouTube bloggers from the trail, reading posts from people who had been all the way from Georgia to Maine and using the AT’s interactive map (found here or if that doesn’t work, here) to scope out the trail virtually.

In short, this day hike was about to fulfill a new life dream. As we headed up the first peak I couldn’t stop taking pictures…

I was in full-tourist mode until I saw it – the first white blaze. For those of you who don’t know, the white blaze (or small white rectangle thing) is the Appalachian trail marker… it guides willful hikers all the way along the whole 2,190 mile stretch of the trail. Seeing it in person, on the path that I was hiking made it all real. 

The beauty of nothing but you and the task at hand, with no real way out except to finish- was what I’d come for. I’ve always been fairly good at letting fear rule my life, but I’m ever growing out of it… fear is the space between the life you know, and the life you’ve been waiting for. I was ready (am ready) for the life I’ve been waiting for. Hiking is the perfect way to face your fear of giving up, because once your in the middle of the trail, your basically forced to “nut up”. There is no magic way to get yourself back to the parking lot instantly. Your only way out is to push forward.

As we continued to ascend, I turned around and got my first good look at how far we’d come in just under the first half hour or so:

The Start

(Parking lot in lower left corner.)

Turning back around, I realized how far we had to go. 

But I was completely okay with that.

We continued on, ever-venturing further into the unknown of the trail and the capacity of our will. There were hills that never seemed to end, noisy groups of passing teenagers, and times when the packs we carried dug into our shoulders so much you just wanted to leave them behind.

And then it rained.

At first the light, pitter-patter of rain was welcoming. We were prepared with ponchos and the cold mountain rain felt good on a hot, sweaty face. But, as rain in The South sometimes (always) does…. the pitter-patter quickly turned into an all out downpour.

Torrential style.

And we were wet. About half way down our first tree-covered section of the mountain, maybe 4.5 miles in, we found ourselves turning around to head back. Relieved at the idea of getting out of the rain, but sad that we couldn’t have gone further. The trail of water rushing down the path ahead of us continued to grow. As we headed back to the car I found myself attempting to hop from rock to rock, but often succumbing to step in a mud pile since there was no better option.

The water level in the path deepened as we worked our way back up the mountain, at times taking what was left of my leg strength to push and pull my shoes through the mud. It didn’t take long for my running-shoes to become filled with water and the shorts under my cheapo-poncho soaked with rain. Between my mom, dad and myself, we kept saying we were going to find a semi-dry place to stop and rest… but we never did. The adventure pulled us forward.

When we broke out of the trees and found the open space (The “Balds”) again, the rain mellowed out to a light mist. I believe it was near Jane Bald that the clouds dissipated and we could once again see the beauty of the surrounding mountains.

And then, while finally taking just a moment of rest at the top of the mountain we saw it. Out of no where, a tiny mongoose and baby rabbit appeared. The looked as casual as if they were out for an afternoon stroll, the mongoose just behind the rabbit. Then, just as quickly as they had appeared, the mongoose lunged at the baby bunny and started killing it. (Naturally, they were not in fact out for a stroll together and were in deed both apart of a hunt…but it did not appear that way at first.) We watched in horror as the mongoose continued to bite and cling to the rabbit, who desperately squealed to be let go… until the mongoose drug the baby bunny into the brush and the squealing eventually ceased.

Side note: rabbits are my all-time favorite animal. Ever since I was a baby.

I love them so much that I’ve got a rather large rabbit tattoo on the lower part of my leg…

Essentially, i’m bunny-obsessed.

So the experience of watching not just a rabbit, but an adorable baby bunny be murdered by another animal – was less than ideal. I was so appalled at the sight and sounds that I couldn’t even talk about it (or anything) for the next twenty or so minutes of our hike. It was agreed that we were not to speak of “the incident” at all, but I figured that it was in fact a part of the trip… and so you should know about it.

[Remembering back now, I can recall that at the time of the incident, we had stopped for a snack and that unfortunately, we were eating Annie’s Bunny Grahams. Oh the horrific irony.]

Once I got over being heart-broken at the death of earth’s greatest creature… I realized that life is …at the end of the day: just a beginning, a middle, and an inevitable end.  I took a moment of reflection and looked around once again to see the beauty in my life at that very moment.

Be apart of your moments.

As we drew closer to the car, I found myself breathing a little deeper. That deep kind of satisfying breath of an empty heart-spot finally being filled. A dream being touched, if only briefly. Surrounded by the loving company of my parents and the vast majesty of nature, I found myself feeling at home.

Nature is my home.

And I will be back again soon.

Though, I can assure you:
I’ll be leaving the bunny-grahams at home.

 

Much love and all things wild,

-H

Feel.

I’ve become afraid to love, and far too quick to judge.

I have let the negativity of life sink into my soul…when I should have stopped it at the mere mention of it’s name.

I have allowed what ‘is not’ to be my ‘everything’… Never feeling like I’m whole enough. The edges in life were uncomfortable… So I belittled them. I made them seem small and unwanted, when really they were my truest self.

Find your edges, the corners of you that you only dare to dream about – and embrace them in the tightest grasp…love them. Love you.

Allow what your so desperately afraid of to fall away. It holds no power over you now. 

Your strength is growing faster than your fears can follow.

You are ready.

Ready for life.

Ready for the life you’ve been dreaming of..

And it all begins within loving yourself.

Let go of hate and fear. Let it fall from your heart and hands today. Feel it drop off your shoulders like the heavy burden it is. … Feel the lightness fade through….let the warmth of love find you….. Live for it now.

You are loved. Be love.
May you find release as you soar on the wings love, light and free.

-H 

Turning Regrets into Reasons

When things aren’t going the way you thought they would –
it’s easy to think you made a wrong turn somewhere.

But what if:
you didn’t.

What if all the turns you made
were the right turns.
Even the ones you
still regret taking.

What if, every single one was the right turn for you to take?

What if they were all right?

…That would make you alright.

…That would mean your exactly where you supposed to be.

Trippy right?

If that were true,
then you’d have to do things like forgive yourself.
Because you couldn’t regret anything.

It would turn all your regrets into purposeful events.

Regardless how much they hurt you,
or someone else.

No matter how hard they made you fall.
Or what unpleasant place they took you to.

You would have to accept each one as part of the experience.
Part of the journey.
Part of you.

You would have to love yourself not in-spite of your regrets,
but because of them.

Because your regrets were as vital to your life,
as all the good moments were.
Without one, you could not have the other.

Make peace with all of life,
not because you have to –
but because you choose to.

Because you realize there is value in the freedom of knowing –
that it is all an equal part of the journey.

-H

 

Always Focused on Tomorrow.

Things I realized on my walk this evening:

I want to be in touch with my own life.

I struggle, at times,
to feel like I’m actually living my own life.

I’m often so focused on the next hour, the next day, the next weekend…
that it all comes and goes by so fast,
I’m left standing there – wondering where it went.

I just want to be so in love with every moment,
that is causes me to never again feel like, “where’d it go?”

Why does it always take us util it’s too late to realize how good we had in in the first place?
To realize that we had it so good in the life that we had – the person we were back then…

I’m always so focused on the life I want to be living… the person I want to be…
that I let my days fly by without being a part of them – always wishing for the next chapter… the more improved, better ‘me’.

Maybe this chapter is supposed to be amazing,
Maybe this day – even if it feels insignificant – is supposed to be the best day of my life.
Maybe I’m supposed to love who I am now, before I try to “improve” myself.

…………….

I would like to take a moment, to write a letter to myself (and all of you.)

…………..

Dear You,

You are amazing and so brave. You wake up each day, trying so hard to improve on the cards you’ve been dealt. Sometimes, you don’t feel like it’s fair that everyone else seems to be doing so much better at life than you – and then you feel like a failure.
I truely wish you would see things as I see them. See you as I see you.

You are beautiful. You are more than blessed.

You’ve been given gifts and talents, that were only destined for your hands and your heart.

You are loved. Even more than you will ever be able to comprehend.

If I could reach into your heart and hold it – I would infuse into it the love that I have for you. I would show you how valuable your dreams are, how powerful you are, and how truely great you have been designed.

I know sometimes, you see yourself as a screw up – a failure – deserving of no more than the shitty way you feel now. But all of that is so un-true… the way I see you looks more like this:

• Beautiful
• Honest
• Good
• Capable
• Powerful
• Blessed
• Talented
• Worthy
• Peaceful
• Happy
• Successful
• Nutured
• Changed
• Sacred
• Stong
• Forgiven
• Loved
• Perfect, exactly as you are. In this moment.
  With all your flaws and faults considered – still beautiful and perfectly you.

And I would hope that everyday, regardless how many things you think you need to achieve in order to be someone your proud of, I would hope with every bit of myself that you would truely feel how it is that I see you.

I want you to wake up tomorrow morning, walk over to the mirror and take a moment, with your eyes closed, to remember the list of things I have written above. Give them time to sink into your heart. Imagine those words flowing into your skin, absorbing into every ounce of who you are… Let the fill you with every ounce of love I have for you. Live in that moment – realizing all the greatness that flows through you.

Let the words sink in.
Feel them.

And then, when your ready – open your eyes… and see  yourself through the eyes of love: beautiful – exactly as you are.

Much Love,

–God (and H)

……………………………………

 

I want to wake up to that tomorrow.

Those words.

I want to allow them to fill up every ounce of who I am –
I want to believe them so fully, that no one can make me feel otherwise.

I hope that you can feel them too.

Find your strength in who you are.

I hope that you see yourself, exactly as you are.
And love it.

-H

“It’s no coincidence that Nature is beautiful, exactly as it is.”-H

 

The Loss of a Loved One

To some, the idea of “a loved one” brings to mind
a family member, a very close friend, or perhaps a lover.
The idea of losing this person is heart-breaking,
to some, it can mean the end of life as they knew it all together.

To me, that was exactly how it felt.
Though this love was not in human form,
it broke me all the same when it left.

My little love, my son, the closest companion I’d had since I was eight…
my everything. My cat, Latte.

He took my heart with him when he left.

He spent 18 long beautiful years on this earth,
until one day when I realized he just wasn’t the same anymore.

His gait had gotten more stiff, his leap on to the couch- more cautious.
His food bowl went mostly untouched. And with each day I could feel more
and more of his fragile little frame protruding through his fur.

He was sick for a long time.
I just thought he was getting old,
beginning the process of aging like anyone with his amount of years would.
But one day, after he’d developed a sore around his eye that looked
rather unpleasant, I decided it was time to take him in to the doctor.

I made the appointment without too much thought,
I was actually a little excited to have a professional give him a look-over at his age. Someone who could tell me a little more about what I could do
to make him comfortable in his last couple years.

Latte was nervous. He’d not been to a vet in probably 10 years,
but I knew it was time to get some answers that would help his health.

The doctor looked him over, checked his eyes with a light, felt around
his little limbs and down his spine. He paused for a moment near his abdomen,
and then the check-up was complete.

He patted Latte on the head and leaned back against the counter to give me his thoughts.
I had my list of questions that I’d thought up that day written in my pocket-
my mind wandering to them now, ready to ask after he’d told me what we were going to do
for Latte’s eye.

“Without doing blood work, I can’t be sure – but I believe Latte has kidney failure.”

He kept talking, but I don’t think I heard all of what he said after that.
I was expecting, “We are going to give him antibiotics, he will be fine in a week.” Or, “we need to put him on a soft food only diet, since his getting older.”

I was not, in any way, thinking something inside of him was failing.

The doctor mentioned a daily injection of fluids, to hydrate him, to try to prolong his life.
He also mentioned simple things I could do to make him more comfortable, to try to get him by until I was ready… but ultimately, when I was ready, we would need to make
a point to discuss euthanasia.

I remember, in the days that followed, there was lots of tears and slowly, a loss of hope.
There was frantic research on my part to see what could be done.
Trips to the grocery store to get him Pedialite for his dehydration
and canned pumpkin to try to ease his painful constipation.

But after five days, five days of thinking just maybe I could get him by a little longer…
I looked into the eyes of my little love – and knew it was time.
I saw more pain in those little blue eyes than I’d ever seen before.

And I just couldn’t take it.

I went to work that morning, for all of a half an hour, before I had to go home
because I couldn’t keep from crying.
My heart was breaking for my best friend.

I rushed home to find him still on the couch where I’d left him,
he was sound asleep and I just kept looking at him.
I couldn’t comprehend that this was happening-
he’d been in my life so long that I didn’t know how to even picture my life without him.

I picked up my cell phone, walked into the bedroom – out of ear shot-
and made an appointment with the vet. His last appointment, the following day at 4:40.

The next morning Latte didn’t wake me up with obnoxious meowing like he normally did for breakfast. I walked out into the living room to find him still curled up on his couch.
For a moment, I hoped in the back of my mind that maybe he’d found peace that night.
That maybe today, I would not have to do the worse thing I could ever imagine having to do,
to bring the one I love most to his death.

As I watched him lying there, breath filled his stomach and I was filled with both
sincere relief and daunting terror for the day ahead.

He woke as I sat on the couch next to him.
He looked at me and we shared a moment of knowing.

We spent the whole day together. I left his side only to get coffee and go to the bathroom.
We laid on the couch, staring out the window and napping.
At one point I brought him outside.
It was a beautiful day, warm but a slight breeze.
We laid in the grass and sat in silence while we watched nature go by.

I told him, “I don’t know if I can do this for you, but I know I have to.
If you don’t want to, if your not ready… please let me know somehow.
Walk off into the wilderness, be free for the last days of your life.
Just let me know what it is you want to do.”

And he did start to wonder off, he went further into the edge of our yard than he normally does. Then he just sat there on the edge of our yard.
I think he was thinking about it. I think he was considering what he really wanted, would it be better to be on his own..

Then he came back.
He started walking back to the house, and I followed him.

He went to the door, I opened it, and he went and laid down on the couch.
I took up my place next to him and held him.

Another few hours went by, I looked at my phone and it read 1:55pm.
I looked at him and told him we only had a couple hours left.

I will never forget the look on his face in that moment.
He looked at me with such genuine fear – it broke my heart.
I could see him telling me he was scared.
I could feel that he was ready, but scared.

“It’s going to be alright. I know it’s scary – but it’s going to be over soon.
And i’m not going to leave your side. I’m going to hold you through it all.”

I had one arm around him and one hand setting out in front of him.
His paw stretched out and held my hand, he laid his head down, and closed his eyes.

We spend those last hours cuddling in whatever reassurance we could provide each other.

Then the time came.
I carried him into the car.
We drove to the doctor.

And I spent the last minutes with my best friend as I watched him fade away.

Finally at peace.

Nothing will ever be as hard as not only having to say goodbye,
but having to be the one to say “when” to say goodbye.

In those last few days, I spent so much time hoping he would go on his own.
Anything to not have to do what I knew I needed to.
To help him feel better, before the pain got so bad he couldn’t walk anymore.

I wanted him to remember life as good.
I wanted to him to know that even up into his last breath,
that I cared.
That he was so deeply loved.

It’s still hard.
I still feel guilt.
I still question if there wasn’t more I should have tried.
But then I remember that it was only a matter of time,
I cannot stop time.
The longer I prolonged his life –
the less quality his life would have had.
It was the last gift I could have given him.
To be brave enough to be able to say goodbye,
to give him last days that were full and good.

I wanted to write this,
to find healing.
To maybe help someone else
facing the same decision I had to make,
find peace with themselves.

Mostly, I wanted to write,
to put into words what we went through
so I don’t ever forget.

There are so many good memories I have with Latte.
I was by no means a perfect parent.
I made mistakes,
but I hope I made it possible for him to have a good life.
most importantly,
I hope he felt loved.

I know he did.

Those were the last words I spoke to him.
Over and over, as the doctor give him the euthanasia,
I held him and told him “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

I think he left this world,
to go to a better one.
And I know i’ll see him again someday.

And every day until then,
I will miss him.

To, My little love. My Latte. My son. My best friend-
 
Thank you for all that you gave me, all the times you were there when I needed you.
Thank you for being the only one I could confide in, and for listening. 
Thank you for allowing me to know love and to love you.
Thank you for loving me back.

-Love, Mom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Regret.

I have lived with regret, for far too long.

I have let it plague me; Filling my soul with negativity for too many years.

Each time I thought I’d finally moved past it, forgotten it, left it behind…
it would rear it’s ugly face again – reminding me that it was never really gone.

I’m not quite sure how other people deal with their regretful memories.
My thought process was always that if I could ask for forgiveness, I would be able to move on.

So I did. Time and time again. Each time, things would be okay for awhile. Then all of a sudden I’d find myself right back to doing whatever activity had started the regret in the first place.

It was like an itch I had to scratch to feel relief.
Somehow, taking part in something negative again made me feel peace with ever doing anything wrong.
Like, maybe I didn’t actually screw up so bad the first time.
It made me feel more normal… more accepted.
More like reality and less like a nightmare.

It would feel fine at first, though looking back now I think I was just trying to be naive. Trying to deceit  my own mind into believing that I didn’t know the harm I was causing myself.

But it never lasted….I would always come to sooner or later… and fall with a deafening crash into my self-dug hole of regret. Daylight further away than before. Each time I fell, I personally dug that hole another foot deeper.

That’s the biggest struggle when living with regret.
You don’t know how to break that cycle. And once you’ve fallen in the first time, even if you get out, it seems like that hole never really gets filled …you always end up stumbling upon it and fall right back in.

 

I’ve lived this cycle since I was seven.
Twenty fucking years of my life have been lost to regret.

 

What it all started with is no one’s damn business.
What really happened is something I will take with me to my grave.
I know better than to bring to light something that was born in the dark.

Sometimes things can fade away. Hurts….Sadness…Anger.
Some things actually can heal with time.

Regret is not one of those things.

 

It will eat you alive if you let it. I was told that it’s best to let it go, ask for forgiveness and move on. Move forward.
But it never worked.

I cannot count the amount of times I’ve prayed, face literally filled with tears, wanting with all I am to let this demon go.
For God to take away the memory, the cycle, all of it.
Just to let me finally feel freedom from my past.
In that moment I could usually feel it. When talking to God, I never felt judged or full of pain.
In those prayers I would say I did feel free.
But life crept back in… memories crept back in….. the way I remembered I felt about  myself always came back.
And that’s all it took, that and time, before I’d find myself saying yes to another adventure that would inevitably lead me right back into that stupid hole. That all-encompassing, soul-crushing, endless hole where all my regrets sat waiting for me. Every damn time.

 

Like I said, it’s been twenty years.
And I’m not 100% sure what started the cycle of events that lead me to this revelation.

But today I can say, I finally feel free.

It started like any other prayer.
I had been awake all night, unable to escape my own mind.
I thought there was no other way I’d find rest
than talking with God about what was going on in my head.
So there I lie, in bed, eyes closed and heart ready.
Ready to pour out all the things that I didn’t want to feel bad about anymore…
all the hundreds of memories that I couldn’t go on one more second living with in my mind.
I moved my hands to cover my face…
I think subconsciously I didn’t want even God to see where I found myself now.
I was just about to recount each thing that I knew He needed to hear,
in order for me to ask for forgiveness and try to move on again.

 

But He stopped me.

 

Before I could even begin to think about those things… about anything… he stopped me.
All at once, I felt peace fall around me like snow.
Drifting down so gently and settling into all my broken pieces.
The peace softened the tightness in my tired hands.
I felt my hands fall, tenderly holding my face like a parent would to calm a crying child.
I felt a clarity that I’ve never known before, drowning out all my once deafening thoughts.

Imagery flooded my mind with waves, crashing new life over me…
washing away any trace of darkness my regret had brought me through.
I felt myself removed from my current physical state of angst, and suddenly

He told me, very clearly, what I needed so desperately to hear
– He Loved Me.

He told me through everything, He loved me.
He told me in spite of everything, He loved me.
He told me there was nothing I could ever do that would take that away.

He told me He loved me anyway.

 

Never in my life have I felt a love so pure, strong and real all at once.
In an instant every ounce of regret I’d held on to for years simply didn’t matter anymore.
I knew that all those moments had still happened.
I knew that they were not magically gone or removed from my memory.
But I finally realized that they truly did not matter.
Love is the only thing that can overcome anything. Specifically, for me, it was God’s love.
I’ve since realized, that I kept messing up because I felt like I was unworthy of being loved ever since that first screw up. I felt like damaged goods.
I felt like if anyone else knew the truth about what I’d done… they would never love me again.
I kept a secret hidden for fear of losing love. But it didn’t matter if no one knew, I knew…
and that lead me to not love myself.
For that reason – I have continued with no end to harm myself over and over again because I didn’t feel worthy of anything better.
In fact, I would go so far as to say that sometimes hurting myself made me feel better.
I felt validation in the negative way I saw myself.
Telling myself inwardly that somehow, this negative place is where I belonged now.

 

I always thought that moving on from regret  was about being forgiven.
But I’m not sure if you can ever fully forgive yourself.
The deeper issue is love.
Can you love yourself again?
Can you realize that regardless your past & your mistakes
that you are worthy of love?
Maybe some people can do that on their own-
but I tried desperately for twenty years and never could.

 

God had to remind me,
that He loved me anyway.

And I realized something, if He can… so can I.

-H

“You love me Anyway”

Finally Free.

 

You Love Me Anyway – Sidewalk Prophets

Dreams

Dreams are your pure existence for being.

If you’ve spent your life,
wondering what your purpose is,
I can tell you right now that it has everything and anything
to do with what you’ve always dreamt of doing.

The world that you’ve dreamt of living in.

The person you’ve dreamed of being.

The change you’ve longed to make.

THAT is your purpose.
That is your DrEaM.

We only get one shot, you know.
To spend our years, our days, our minutes…on this earth.

Why would you want to waste your time,
SEARCHING for what it is you think your destined for…
when you already know, without a doubt,
the life your longing to LIVE?

What pulls on your heart as you fall asleep?

What plagues your mind as your go through your day?

What thoughts fill your soul with contentment
and make you smile when no one is looking?….

That is your purpose.
That is your dReAm.

Try ignoring it,
I dare you……..
See how far you get,
and even more frightening –
where you find yourself,
when you spend life running from your dreams.

I can damn near guarantee, that you will not be happy with your life.

I know,
I’ve been there.

I’ve spent my days dreaming…
instead of making my dreams a reality.
I’ve numbed the pull,
with vigorous strive.
I’ve tried just about anything
to make myself forget
the life I know
I’m destined to live.

And it WILL work for awhile,
and it will SUFFICE for awhile,
and for awhile you will allow yourself to believe,
that Dreams… are only meant to be fantasy.

Can I tell you something I’ve learned?

..

Dreams. are. ReAL.

And they are so beautiful.

Your dreams are so impossibly perfect,
that even your wildest vision of them,
cannot do justice the the wonder that they are.

I wish for everything in the world
that someday, very soon, you will see them.

That someday, very soon,
you will wake up to the reality….
that Dreams. Are. Real.

God willing,
that, in as instant
as the next breath you take –
Your mind will open.
to VALUE of your DREAMS.

– H

Living for You

I said I wasn’t going to do this.
But I can’t wait any longer.

Writing is a part of my life.

When something is in my head,
the only exit it can find,
is through my finger tips.

With every key stroke,
every flick of the pen,
I feel a part of the universe opening up.
I feel healing,
I find peace,
I come to understand the point to life.

And with that,

I shall continue on this never ending journey

of self.

-H

“More important
than what we are searching for,
is what we are avoiding.”
–Hector and the Search for Happiness