“But can you walk the walk as well as you like to talk?”

            As has happened a time, or twenty in my life, I met someone who was drawn to my light. Because I am welcoming to all that I meet, unless I feel an immediate aversion to someone, I allow them to stay awhile in my life to get to know their story. I always give them the opportunity to know my stance on certain things that I won’t tolerate so they can decide if they want to be part of my journey for a time. Very few people have stayed with me for long as they were drawn to my light at first, but then in its brightness their secrets came to light and they couldn’t stand to have their own imperfections known.

            I tend to believe that most people are basically good, but they do things that aren’t always so; as it is with anyone who has ever lived and breathed. I don’t judge others for what they’ve done, because I tend to have to find the reason why; because it’s the *why* that makes all the difference. Some of the stories I’ve been told have broken my heart and changed me in ways I’ll never be able to convey with words. I never forget a story, especially one that has touched my soul.

            I have a few staunch supporters who will always be by my side, regardless of the stupid choices I have made or things that I’ve said because they know they *why* of my story. They also have a forever friend in me as I fiercely protect those whom I love with all that I am. I don’t believe that anyone is capable of living a perfect life, as it’s in the imperfections that we learn to be strong and where to bend. My friends have weathered many a storm with me as we bend with the ferocious winds, but they have not forsaken me. Nor have I left their side. It’s because of the respect we have for one another to never betray the trust that is so hard for me to have towards others. Trust is my *why* and the reason I either admit you into my tightly circled wagons or not. If I cannot trust who you say you are, if your words don’t match your actions, if your walk doesn’t match your talk, then I cannot trust you. And once you’ve broken my trust, it is nearly impossible to obtain again.        

            Everyone that I have met has shared part of their story with me. I learned the why they have acted as they did, said what they have, and lived their life as a result. I learn from them as they learn from me and as life would have it, we part ways and continue on our travels. Some people want to stay in my life, as they find out that I can do many things well because I’ve had lots of opportunities to need to learn to take care of myself. They also learn that I walk my talk; not that I’m perfect because I am the first to admit my imperfections. But that when I say I believe in something, I really do believe. And when I say I won’t tolerate something, I really do mean I won’t.

            This has made many people angry because they want to stay connected to me because of what I can do and how I make them feel. As one who has experienced more than their fair share of abuse in many forms, I always try to make people feel better by pointing out their strengths and talents. Many memories I have include several of my friends and I sitting around a table while people watching. Most of my friends could tell you what vehicle the person drove there. Others could tell you exactly what they were wearing. Still others can tell you who they spoke to and what vice they committed, if any. I, on the other hand, never noticed such things. What I noticed was whether they came alone, what emotion I read on their faces, how they looked expectantly towards the door, and if they showed any concern for those around them. It’s because I see things differently than most people and I always let people know that, but until they experience me firsthand, they don’t understand what I mean.

            When I say I will do something, I will make every effort that I can to ensure that I follow through. When I say I love someone, I cannot simply stop loving them, not even when we no longer speak; I just love them from a distance. When I apologize for any wrong that I’ve committed, I ensure that I right the wrong as well as express my regret. I do not shirk responsibility, shun admission of fault or blame another for my words or deeds; and as naïve as I am, I expect the same courtesy, though it is rarely, if ever expressed by others. I live by the adage, first do no harm. As everyone who has lived has experienced grief at some point during their sojourn, I attempt to make others aware of their story as it is revealed to me. It makes them feel better knowing that they have positive attributes that no one else has bothered to tell them they’ve seen and it makes me feel good to make others feel better. I will never be perfect, but I always try to walk my talk, else I wouldn’t be true to myself.

“Why do you do it when it hurts you so much?”

This question was asked of me by my littlest bear while she was watching me stretch and exercise my aching body. I didn’t answer her right away, mostly because this precocious child o’mine has a way with words that often catches me off-guard. Plus I had to really think about her question before I could give her my reasons. I held up a finger and winked. A quick study, like her own mother I’d like to think, she went back to mimicking my exercises as she waited for me to answer her.

My body is tightened by the pain of muscle spasms brought on due to a head-on collision while I was pregnant with child number four. I can’t sleep, stand, sit, walk, or do anything for too long or else my body will stage a mutiny. For the record, I despise pain pills. So, I stretch my muscles; push them back where they’re supposed to be several times a day. And it hurts a whole lot. But it’s a different kind of pain than my muscles contracting. I know that when I exercise, I strengthen my core, to support my spine and limbs. Sure that there’s a parallel lesson somewhere that I’m supposed to share, I continue to work out with lil’ bear by my side.

Why do you do it when it hurts you so much? How applicable is this question in every aspect of my life? Why do I work so hard to get nothing but chaos in return? Why do I love only to be hated? Why do I exercise to relieve pain, only to be pained in different areas for different reasons? My mind is reeling. I push through the pain. Why do I do it?

It comes to me a bit at a time. The pain that abruptly wakes me from slumber is sharp and piercing. I’m stiff and sometimes I can’t even move my right arm. My hand is weak so I can’t open a water bottle. It makes me angry. I get up and stretch. The stretching pulls my muscles back out, elongating them. By the time I’m through, though it has to be done several times a day, I can use my hand and arm again. My body has become accustomed to feeling pain, but when I exercise, it releases endorphins and they’re natural pain relievers. Exercising also lowers my blood pressure, increases my energy, improves my muscle tone and strengthens my body. And so, I push through the pain. The pain is then transferred to benefitting me instead of deteriorating me. I gain control of my muscles again, and fear leaves me as I can see the positive effects from exercising.

So why do I do it? When I see others, I don’t judge them by their looks. As an avid people watcher, I have this uncanny ability to read others’ stories simply by observing them. And yes, it has caused me to be used and abused at times as I attempt to help them heal their own hurts. So why do I do it? Because I know pain, I understand how it feels to be rejected time and again. By other people, by my own body, through most experiences I’ve ever endured. I want to take their pain and turn it into something positive, useful and release their fears.

When my kids see me exercising through my pain, they know that I won’t expect them to do anything that I don’t expect myself to do. I show them through example. When I reach out to help others, to relieve their pain, they see that everyone has worth and they become more willing to extend a helping hand. I always tell them “Don’t TELL me what you can’t do; SHOW me what you can do!” And then I show them how it’s done. You push through the pain. You do what has to be done because it has to be done, whether or not you feel like it. You suck it up and absorb the pain. You train your body and mind to obey your spirit, not the other way around.

Why do you do it when it hurts you so much? Because after you push through the pain you can feel this wonderful euphoria of a job well done as you see the difference of transferring the pain into something positive instead of negative, lil’ bear.

"The Affected Life"

   You never really know how much you affected someone you met at some point in your life, until they tell you. By the same token, first impressions, though long-lasting, aren't always precise. Sometimes you have to look far below the surface in order to see what’s really there, what your eyes could never see. Not every person comes packaged in a way one would assume is accurate. Sometimes a person’s public persona isn’t who truly who they are. While other times, it’s even worse.

     Something miraculous happens when you read. You learn things; without even knowing it. That has a side effect of making you more intelligent, because when someone asks you something, you can tell them facts, rather than opinions. With quiet intelligence comes some sort of self-assuredness. It’s projected whether or not you flaunt it or shroud it. It’s the confidence you have in the way that you walk that make others take notice of you, if they’re astute in their perceptions.

     At times, it can make you appear intimidating, even when you’re the one feeling intimidation from others. It’s that first impression that can never entirely be shaken, until you share part of your story with others. That’s when you discover how much you affect people. Sometimes those you allow to become the closest to you end up betraying you in the most heinous ways imaginable. Have yet you realized that perhaps there is more to me than meets the eye?