Home > Blogging, Communication, Parenting > I AM NOT YOU

I AM NOT YOU

I subscribe to several hundred blogs.

Some of the bloggers I follow are work-at-home moms. Others are work-at-home dads.

Many of these blogs are by moms and dads working outside the home. Some have kids with special needs; others have kids who are physically and neurally “typical.” Still others of the blogs I follow are written by folks who have no kids; some never want to have kids.

I follow a handful of teens, as well as some college students. I follow others whose age and parental experiences are totally unknown to me, because they choose to focus on one part of their experience: their faith, their crafts, their hardships with a specific aspect of their lives, like mental illness or being gay within hostile communities.

Apart from the fact we are all human with the same physiological needs, the bloggers I follow have just one thing in common:

They write about their own experiences.

I can feel a little of the writer’s soul in her words; I am enriched by the experience of seeing the world through her eyes. Thanks to her, I am able to see things a little differently than I could through the lens of my own experiences.

The sweet convergence of past and present

There’s another kind of blog that only rarely shows up in my reader. It generalizes the human experience, sweeping enormously different experiences into one awkward totality:

People have hopes. We have dreams! We all bleed. We all breathe. The next time you’re wondering, “Can I do it?!” THE ANSWER IS YES! Because people can do anything!!!

I understand there’s good in such blogs. Those who write them are looking to inspire themselves and others, and they do uplift others in ways I celebrate even if I don’t share them. Yet I do not personally follow these blogs, because I can’t feel the writer in them. I know nothing about the person typing the words, nor about the experiences that inspired them to write their sweeping strokes. Because the strokes are so broad, I’ve learned nothing about life that I didn’t already know. My understanding of living in this world hasn’t been expanded or altered.

That’s what I yearn for: greater understanding. The blogs I follow lead me to that. I don’t generally go flogging other blogs for not meeting my personal preferences, and indeed mightn’t have even written this post without a little provocation.

Scanning blogs first thing this morning, I was met with a sweeping, accusatory generalization to the tune of: No woman who abandons her children to daycare is truly successful.

Emphasis added. Not leaves.ย Abandons.

My gut response was to type a one-sentence zinger. I chose not to act on that, because grumpy responses seldom effect positive change.

everything's safer with mommy

Perspective does.

The blogger who wrote these words didn’t offer solutions. She didn’t offer understanding about the variability of human experience. She didn’t tell about her own life, or give context for her judgment disguised as truth. That’s all she offered: judgment. Her words, if anything, did the opposite of expanding understanding; they contracted it, by making vast, variable human experience into the narrow human experience: Because I have spoken it, so must it be!

With her words tumbling around my mind, I decided I wanted to write briefly to hail success as I see it: accomplishment by a person’s own measure within the confines of her own life.

To you, my friend blogging and otherwise, pursuing your dream mindful of your own strengths and weaknesses, in the face of your own particular obstacles, I offer cheers and salutations!

Among others, I salute you,

  • Mother raising your kids alone after your husband’s unexpected passing
  • Father working three jobs to ensure there’s food on the table, even though that means you usually only get to see your kids while they’re sleeping
  • Parents who trade shifts at the hospital while praying for your child’s operation to succeed
  • Employee who cries daily after dropping off your children at daycare, because you yearn to spend more time with them but are not–yet–financially able
  • College student who doesn’t know what you’re going to do with your life, but is making the best decisions you can based on what you know so far
  • Teacher who uses your own meager funds to ensure the poorest of your students have pencils or oatmeal

Though I celebrate you and your successes now, I do so acknowledging that no one else’s success, nor definition of success, is relevant to your own. You and only you know the full scope of your life, and what, at its end, will feel like a life well lived.

So someone else defines it differently and wants to tell you their one vision of success. So what?

They are not you. They cannot speak for you, or me.

They are not me. You are not me. I am not you.

But I sure do want to know you.

Not your favorite quotes.

You.

Different, but united

Not the same, but united in support nevertheless

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  1. March 9, 2014 at 9:22 am

    This is such a lovely post. Thank you for it. I too find myself veering away from those blogs that seem to see the world as a one-size-fits all answer to everything. My tolerance for the “my way is the only way” posts are getting lower and lower. I think part of the joy of blogging is learning to look at the world from many perspectives, but there are so many out there with blinders on. (I apologize for the abundance of mixed metaphors in here, but they all apply). I salute you.

    • March 9, 2014 at 9:32 am

      Thank you. ๐Ÿ™‚

      When I first started blogging, I ate up those posts! The deeper I got into it, the more I found myself navigating away because I only had a limited amount of time to read blogs and wanted the time I did spend to be well used. I do still have a few “general experience” blogs in my feed, relics of earlier preferences.

      Sometimes I find myself devolving into generalized experience, and then I get frustrated with myself. My next post even has a tiny bit of this in it, but I try to keep it very, very limited–my takeaway from a set of experiences . . .

      I accept others might reach different conclusions, and I’m grateful for how comments allow me to see those!

  2. March 9, 2014 at 9:27 am

    Yes, yes, yes! The absolute best thing about following so many very different people is that they’re all so very different. I’m so glad you’re you. I will try to be happy being me. ๐Ÿ™‚

    • March 9, 2014 at 9:33 am

      The absolute best thing about following so many very different people is that theyโ€™re all so very different.

      Aaaah! How do you manage to say in a sentence what it took me 800 words to say?! :p

      I’m glad you’re you, and out there sharing you. ♥

  3. March 9, 2014 at 9:33 am

    Generalizations, much like assumptions, rarely do us much good. (Hey, look! I just made a generalization. D’oh!) I applaud your ability to refrain from the one-sentence zinger. It’s very frustrating when you encounter someone or something where the “debate” is so easily polarized in their perspective, whether that’s breastfeeding, day care, abortion, minimum wage, GMO, high fructose corn syrup, Barbie, or what have you. Not to mention in this case that the impetus of child care/child rearing is once again placed entirely on the woman. This upsets me on behalf of both mothers and fathers.

    I have a parallel to this in my house where if just one thing, say the internet, isn’t up to par, then the world is ending, attitude is acceptable, and then I am the evil, evil person preventing that day’s “success.” This belief is so absolute, it is so hard to maintain composure and explain that hinging your activities, your happiness, and the level of peaceful co-existence in our house on just that one thing. It isn’t a punishment to ask you to walk away and instead do an activity that contributes to our household. It’s an opportunity for you to reflect, and for both of us to not say mean things. (So, that was part of my day yesterday, if you didn’t pick up on that.) Love you, friend!

    • March 9, 2014 at 9:40 am

      Not to mention in this case that the impetus of child care/child rearing is once again placed entirely on the woman. This upsets me on behalf of both mothers and fathers.

      Hear, hear! One of the dads I follow has been openly accosted for spending time with his kids, being told he should have a job and his wife should be doing all the child care. (No assumptions in sight there, eh?!) Humorously enough, one of the people who offered up this opinion was trying to sell herself as a child care provider so he could give himself over to “manlier” pursuits. That worked well, as you can imagine.

      I did end up tweeting my frustrations, generally, so it wasn’t a total win . . . but definitely a step the right direction. ๐Ÿ˜‰

      As to your second paragraph, I wish I could say I never, ever fell into the world-ending thinking you mention. I do try to be cognizant when I go there, the better to get out of there quickly. Practice has fortunately made much better.

      It isnโ€™t a punishment to ask you to walk away and instead do an activity that contributes to our household. Itโ€™s an opportunity for you to reflect, and for both of us to not say mean things.

      Yes! I love this, and you. Happy Sunday, my friend. ♥

  4. March 9, 2014 at 9:53 am

    Deb, another excellent, thought-provoking post–bravo! I love it when I feel a personal connection with the writer, be it in a book or blog post. I am NEVER (blanket statement here) comfortable ( in person or written form) with others who force their opinions/points of view on others. I hope I have not veered into that territory on my own place. It would be great if this could turn into an “aha” teachable moment for the “abandon” writer. As an adoptive parent, my hot-button would be statements like that, and also “given up” for adoption rather than “placed for adoption” and “natural” mother rather than “birth/biological” mother. (I don’t consider myself “unnatural” after all!)
    OK, I’ll stop–thanks for sharing your eloquent essay–love it! ๐Ÿ™‚

    • March 9, 2014 at 10:14 am

      Thank you so much for your thought-provoking comment! I’d have to agree there’s nothing (I can see) unnatural about you, though there’s quite a bit I’d describe as lovely.

      One of my earliest non-personal arguments with my mom was about adoptive parenting. She took the side of birth parents who decided they wanted their child after all; I countered that the people who did the actual acts of raising were the legal parents as far as I was concerned. My mom said I’d understand it better someday if/when I had kids of my own, but my opinion remains very much the same. The difference is that I don’t tend to view it as a matter of “sides” as I did then, because life is so much more complex than that.

      Come to think of it, this was probably one of my earliest lessons in perspective. When my godmother said “bless her!” after my mom frustratedly communicated our diverging opinion, it took me a little while to realize that was because my godmom was an adoptive parent. Seeing my mom and godmom argue like that was illuminating. Not always comfortable, but illuminating. ๐Ÿ˜‰

      Once in a while, I get a voicemail from my godmom that sounds like one she’d have left for my mom. At those moments, I am floored by how much we can disagree on certain things and yet love each other so powerfully. I love to hear, really hear about others’ experiences, even if what I’m hearing isn’t much like anything I’d say.

  5. March 9, 2014 at 10:23 am

    Oh, where and how to begin to weigh in kindly!

    I clearly recall, though it’s been more than two decades ago now, “abandoning” my little love at daycare. And I also remember the single mum’s angst, and guilt, and tears that followed me as I drove away to work each time. The memory has been mine all these years. I’ve no need to read a post reminding me of it.

    Thank you for your thoughtful response in this post. May we all be as compassionate and kind in turn.

    • March 9, 2014 at 8:13 pm

      I never feel good after I reply with foul words, which has helped me be gentler in approach over time . . . although I still feel I have a lot to learn. The good thing about having a lot to learn, of course, is never having to worry about being worried.

      And the good thing about learning here? I do so in excellent company. ♥

      • March 9, 2014 at 8:24 pm

        A gentle approach is often best. We can still stand our ground and speak our minds kindly, no matter what we feel we need to say.

        • March 9, 2014 at 8:30 pm

          Amen; though occasionally a more forceful response is required, that’s fallback. It’s when people take a gentler approach with me that I’m able to step back, feeling unthreatened, and feel comfortable (potentially) reaching different conclusions than I did before.

  6. Larkin Warren
    March 9, 2014 at 10:51 am

    Gentle, so kind and empathetic. I think, in that moment of reading that sentence (the word “abandon” carries a weapon that shreds things…), I wanted to flip someone’s dining room table. Then I flashed on being the mom leaving the little boy at daycare, took a breath, retroactively blessed (for the zillionth time) the woman who ran the daycare that sheltered my boy. Then I blessed the two women who’ve sheltered/nurtured my boy’s boy in the intervening years. And shazam, the impulse to wreck a careless person’s furniture passed. Thank you.

    • March 9, 2014 at 8:19 pm

      I love how you divert (and describing diverting) your feelings from table-wrecking to blessing. I will call on this the next time I read something that angers me and feel a compulsion to reply in unhelpful ways. Thank you!

      As for the blessing part? As I’m preparing to meet my second little one, I can’t help but recall letting go of my first little one to his “nana.” For three years, she cared for him with love and gentleness; he even told me recently that he has a crush on her! I’m so grateful for her making it easier to let go–through the tears–and know he would be well tended to. Though sad my second child won’t have the same experience, I am grateful to know I will be leaving both safe and compassionately cared for.

      Thank you so much for reading and sharing these lovely thoughts.

  7. March 9, 2014 at 11:32 am

    This is a lovely post and something that needs to be said. I always take issue with people who, after hearing another persons problems, always say something along the lines of ‘don’t be sad, others have it worse’. Although true in itself, such statements belittle a persons problems and issues and try to make them feel ashamed for letting those problems effect them. The last thing a person with stress/depression needs to hear is that they don’t have the right to be feeling that emotion. We need to remember that no matter how big or small the problem, to the person going through it, it’s big, it matters and a solution needs to be found for it.

    • March 9, 2014 at 8:23 pm

      โ€˜donโ€™t be sad, others have it worseโ€™.
      Those are some of the most painful words I’ve ever heard; sadly, I’ve heard them many, many times, usually overheard rather than directed at me. Words like those were part of what prompted a recent post on the anniversary of my mom’s death.

      I feel some remorse for all the times I minimized others’ troubles in this way, but am glad to be changing the proportion day to day.

      Hear, hear to remembering to imagine problems in their actual contexts, not our own.

  8. March 9, 2014 at 1:29 pm

    Thanks for a great post–and a thoughtful reminder that just because someone passes judgement through generalization does not mean they know about your life or are saying anything that has meaning for the individual.

    • March 9, 2014 at 8:27 pm

      After I posted it, expecting zero response (because that’s what usually happens with Sunday morning posts!), I wondered if I’m not maybe starting to sound a little bit like a broken record. This is definitely a theme in my heart recently, and I’m glad it’s useful instead of redundant. ♥

  9. March 9, 2014 at 2:12 pm

    This made me teary. First of all, I’ve always read novels for the reasons that you read blogs. To walk in someone else’s path, to experience a different life, to learn.

    You follow my blog, and I’m a SAHM dealing with a soon-to-be-ex with mental disease. It’s not pretty. I am heading back to the workplace soon, and just reading the words “abandon your children” makes me cry. I have learned many things through my unexpected journey of the past several years, and one of them is that you can never, ever understand what’s going on in other people’s lives. Therefore you should never, ever judge.

    Thank you for this post.

    • March 9, 2014 at 8:32 pm

      I feel for you. I cried most my drive time the first few weeks I dropped my son off at day care, and I approach the birth of my second child knowing it’s likely I’ll do the same. I can’t imagine how I’ll go through it again, but trust I will find the fortitude somehow, when the time comes. I’ll be thinking of and rooting for you.

  10. March 9, 2014 at 2:16 pm

    Reblogged this on nowhere girl and commented:
    Thank you for writing this post!

    A fantastic insight.

  11. cardamone5
    March 9, 2014 at 3:23 pm

    I am so glad you wrote this because I am in the middle of preparing for the A-Z Challenge (write one post per day in April for each letter of the alphabet, with Sundays off for good behavior) and as usual, am revealing some personal and possibly inflammatory information. I am preparing for the judgmental responses, but I also hope to receive understanding replies like your post, which recognizes that everyone’s perspective and experiences are different. Also, I hope by opening up, I might help someone struggling as I did. ๐Ÿ™‚

    • March 9, 2014 at 8:35 pm

      I am really looking forward to reading those, and offering encouraging words as often as possible! I might be relying on likes a little more heavily by that point, but hopefully will be able to sneak in some actual words here and there. ๐Ÿ™‚

  12. March 9, 2014 at 4:01 pm

    This is a brilliant post and the points within made strongly. My relatively brief time at this blogging thing has been a learning process of what is acceptable and what needs to remain un-said. You have opened this up and you have to be commended for that. All of the people I follow are genuine and offer part of themselves up for criticism, sharing, help and friendship. I have little inclination toward placating those that don’t.Life is too short to read bad books and this is true of comments. I feel that a comment is in itself writing and therefore needs to be thoughtful and honest. A ‘Dorothy Dix’ comment does nothing for anybody and reduces this forum to a back-slapping, cocktail hour that ultimately ends up in tears. Deborah, I really appreciate you making this argument and value your honesty and willingness to take the path less travelled. My highest encouragement to you.B

    • March 9, 2014 at 8:39 pm

      I so agree about comments! That’s part of why I’ve switched from commenting on almost all posts I read to liking–to show I read and was touched–instead. I want to ensure that if I’m saying something, it’s because what I’m saying will add something to the conversation, or show support. Still, despite my care, I occasionally post comments and cringe when I realize that what I meant to say was different than what I actually ended up saying. I’m glad to be getting better with time, and to be in company that usually grants me the benefit of the doubt, knowing that if I said something off-key it was most likely due to overquick writing and not unkind intent.

      Thank you for your thoughtful, uplifting comments. As always, I’m given much to consider, with a smile as well as thanks. ๐Ÿ™‚

  13. maurnas
    March 9, 2014 at 8:35 pm

    I feel the same way about those generalized blogs. I cant get into them. If I wanted someone to bullshit me I’d call my mother. I read blogs to feel a connection, a recognition of something. I don’t even care what. Just, something.

    • March 9, 2014 at 8:43 pm

      I liked them at the begin, because I saw little pieces of my truth in each of them. The more I saw, though, the more I saw the truths they rejected or failed to encompass, and the less satisfied I got.

      I like how you put it. I want to feel that connection. One of my earliest posts, actually, was how I didn’t like The Hunger Games (as in, the first book of the series). The character was inaccessible to me. Though many hailed her as “strong,” I couldn’t envision having coffee with her. I’m fine having coffee over arguments, but coffee over dead silence? Not my . . . cup of tea, as it were! I want to feel something in the meeting of minds, even if it is part chagrin.

  14. March 9, 2014 at 10:10 pm

    Here, here! Well said.

  15. March 9, 2014 at 11:04 pm

    Well-said, as always.

    • March 11, 2014 at 9:36 am

      I’m glad we had a chance to talk yesterday, BLS! When I first read your comment, I wasn’t sure if the subtext was “nice try, y’hoser.” Now I know. ๐Ÿ˜‰

  16. March 10, 2014 at 4:39 am

    You have a new fan! Bravo!

    • March 11, 2014 at 9:38 am

      Many thanks! I’ve got to say I’m grateful to Ponies & Martinis for connecting us. ๐Ÿ™‚

  17. March 10, 2014 at 8:27 am

    I wish I had written this one. ๐Ÿ™‚ I too like to know something about the author of the blog.

    On another note (I’ll have to try to stay off my soap box here), I’m surprised at how many women don’t understand how wonderful it is that we have the choices that we do. And that each choice is made with thought and consideration for what’s best for the woman and her family. I have three adult daughters. All three college graduates. One is a stay-at-home mom. She has degrees in foreign languages. The second is a lawyer who works full time. The third is a teacher who works part time and carpools her active four children to all their games and classes. All three of them are wonderful mothers.

    Thanks for a thoughtful and thought-provoking post.

    • March 11, 2014 at 9:44 am

      I love the insight into your daughters and their different but wonderful lives! Thank you. It was watching a teacher argue with a brilliant student’s choice to be a mother and wife in Mona Lisa Smiles, a movie that didn’t otherwise stand out to me, that I realized feminism wasn’t HIGH PAYING JOBS FOR ALL WOMEN EVERYWHERE! It was the embrace of equality that encompasses a woman’s right (and capability) to choose the path that’s right for her. Only she can know that, a fact that seems to be lost on some folks on the opposite end of the spectrum from the lady who inspired this post.

      I did get to thinking yesterday about the post that inspired this one. I wonder if part of the lady’s fury comes from having encountered folks who told her she was doing less with her own life because she’d chosen a different path. I know there’s a whole lot of context I can’t see, all of which makes me glad I resisted my urge to zing and thought it through here instead. Or, rather, began to think it through, since it’s clearly still on my mind!

  18. March 10, 2014 at 9:49 am

    Amen! Years ago I learned some things that have done wonders for my life:

    1. Give people the benefit of the doubt. 2. Understand that I don’t know everything (or maybe anything) about what brought them to their current place in the journey. 3. Give grace because that’s what I’m looking to receive.

    These lessons have opened doors to friendships which otherwise would not have been possible, and I am so grateful for that! Thanks for posting this, Deb. Excellent.

    • March 12, 2014 at 12:08 pm

      I love that three-point breakdown. I will try to remember that, because thinking through to a like conclusion every time (versus internalizing one) is not necessarily the best use of time or resources. ๐Ÿ™‚

      These lessons have opened doors to friendships which otherwise would not have been possible, and I am so grateful for that!
      These words really make me smile, as they remind me how one of my favorite people now is one I didn’t get at all when we first met.

    • March 12, 2014 at 1:47 pm

      This is the best list, JudahFirst, and really works in Deb’s thread. Makes so much sense. I also find that when I’m over-thinking/trying to understand something that is either none of my business or simply beyond understanding, I’ll get out the sponge and the ugly purple gloves and just scrub the ### out of something. That way, the consternation gets addressed (if not solved) with a little order in my own little corner.

      • March 13, 2014 at 3:56 am

        Interesting solution, Larkin. Methinks I am not so good at scrubbing. ๐Ÿ˜‰

      • March 17, 2014 at 12:29 pm

        This made me laugh. This is exactly the kind of redirect that would work for me!

        (Washing dishes is my path to zen.)

  19. March 10, 2014 at 1:21 pm

    As you know, I always enjoy your blog, so I’ve nominated you for the Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award. Yes, I know it’s a bit strange to have this coming from a guy, but in the world of blogging, you know how it goes.

    Here’s a link: http://holdingtogetherthejello.com/2014/03/10/sisterhood-award-and-yes-i-know-im-a-man/

    I hope your week is off to a good start.

    Mark

    • March 12, 2014 at 12:09 pm

      Thank you, Mark! I’m honored (as well as a little tickled by your preface), and pleased to say the week has been kind so far. I hope the same’s true for you.

  20. March 11, 2014 at 4:16 am

    You have said it exactly, we simply never know. It is so easy to judge, so simple to point a finger and exclaim our indignation at the actions of another, especially when their actions don’t align with our expectations.

    1. Stop grieving; 2. Pick up the house; 3. Exercise more; 4. Lose weight

    or

    1. Why did you have a baby you can’t afford

    Those are some of my favorites. There are so many others, what is that wonderful saying about the plank in our own eye?

    With the exception of a few humor blogs and a few political blogs I simply can’t read the generalist anymore. They set my teeth on edge. You though, you always make my heart expand.

    • March 12, 2014 at 12:13 pm

      With the littlest one soon to arrive, these thoughts are heavy on my mind. I can’t help but wonder what kind of world I am leaving to my kids, and what I am doing to change that world. I wonder, too, how they will change it.

      Will they be having the same kinds of discussions when they’re 35? Will they face the same struggles and doubts? I have so many questions and very few answers, so I try to find solace in the openness of having few answers. It means the peace must be in accepting many different paths, even the ones that are strange or perplexing to me, and reserving challenges for those which I perceive as hurtful.

      Did I mention the not-so-many-answers part? I am glad to be loved despite that, and to have so many wonderful people expanding my perspective to love. ♥

  21. March 16, 2014 at 6:17 am

    I agree with you completely about generalized blogs not being enough. In blogging it seems there’s such a trend towards trying to get as large an audience as possible that people turn to generalizations in order to appeal to as many people as they can. It feels false, and does nothing to make me feel like I’m reading the thoughts of a real 3D person. (I read blogs to feel connected to *people* – not to be reminded of the serenity prayer in 15 different fonts.)

    I enjoy blogs like yours where the writer shines through and I feel like I come away with a small bit of real human experience that I couldn’t have had myself.
    (Now I’ll stop rambling. ๐Ÿ™‚

    • March 17, 2014 at 12:35 pm

      In blogging it seems thereโ€™s such a trend towards trying to get as large an audience as possible that people turn to generalizations in order to appeal to as many people as they can.
      Well put! I admit to having done this on social media before. I noticed that inspirational posters got tons of shares and, in turn, tons of new readers, so I started making more. I couldn’t sustain it very long, though, because . . . what I was sharing could have been shared by anyone. I know that some folks take that path not strategically but because it’s who they are, and I wish them every success, but will continue on my own path toward connection, which involves the details . . . including the ones that some just might not relate to.

      Your comment didn’t read at all rambly to me, and I’m thankful for it! ๐Ÿ˜€

  22. March 18, 2014 at 3:20 pm

    Great post โ€“ and exactly why I enjoy reading your blog, you share yourself honestly and I get to “see” a different perspective on a variety of topics.
    I try to live by the “live and let live” motto. What someone may choose for herself doesn’t have to be exactly what I’d choose for me โ€“ and that’s okay! After the birth of my first daughter I had a friend (male) tell me I should stay at home with her. When I said we couldn’t afford that, he suggested we move and cut other expenses (like I was living extravagantly at the expense of parenting my daughter). Ha ha. He’s no longer a friend.

  23. March 24, 2014 at 1:55 pm

    This is a fantastic reflection on those you are reading, and how you like general thoughts but much more those that are truthful and a touch revealing. I love that you touch base on my blog, a like here and a comment there. Thank you for stopping by, for giving credence to my voice…and I love that you haven’t tired just yet of my Mom rants! Your blogs as well are familiar, shared thoughts and ideas. To me, that is the purpose of writing…connecting, sharing, discussing, and having a human experience, and even more, finding a friendly soul along our travels. This blog…well said my friend. I look forward to hearing more!

  24. March 28, 2014 at 3:37 pm

    Oh! The last part about not your favorite quotes, but you. How true this is. Now of course quoting someone for inspiration, or to further highlight your own point, sure. But I just don’t get blogs that are nothing but a collection site for other people’s thoughts. I am a big proponent of think for youself. Lending ideas makes the world go around, it expands it even. But regurgitaion without creating anything uniquely yourself, only shrinks our world. Great read!

  25. March 30, 2014 at 6:19 pm

    Wouldn’t this be a much kinder, gentler world if there were less judgment? I appreciate your ability to be open and accepting of people from all walks of life..

  26. December 4, 2014 at 4:08 pm

    Ya know, I KNEW I liked you from the minute I read the first post…I know people of integrity, kindness, and talent and you’re all three!!! Thank you for so eloquently stating a beautiful feeling of mine….I’m just starting to read a book called, “The Power of Kindness”, by Piero Ferrucci. If you haven’t read it, yet, I’ll let you know if it’s worth reading or not….. ๐Ÿ™‚

  27. December 21, 2015 at 3:37 am

    A year and a half later, I still come back to this post as one of my all-time favorites. I hope you and yours have a great holiday season, and then, what the hell, go ahead and have a great rest of the time, too.

    • December 31, 2015 at 3:42 am

      First, ditto! I hope beautiful things are in store for you.

      Then, thank you: for reading, for saying this, for writing your loneliness-crushing poems. I am unceasingly amazed by how much life and heart you capture in just a few words, and love how much your words about other people shows who you are.

  1. May 8, 2015 at 7:49 pm
  2. May 9, 2015 at 6:08 am

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