Attitude of Gratitude
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And although this post will speak on some of those topics...I’m taking a different approach. Quite frankly, I’m tired of the depressive shit I see and read on a daily basis as of late and in light of recent events not only within the past several months but also with what happened in Beirut, I think it’s important to stop, reflect and remember what one has to be grateful for.
~In case you don’t know there was a massive explosion that took place in Beirut, killing many and injuring a whole lot more.
Now it’s not like I haven’t written. Writer’s write...it’s what we do....I just haven’t hit that publish button. Like I said...it’s a repeated thought recycled in written words. And I’m with many of you, exhausted by having this same conversation over and over and over again...to a bunch of adults acting like spoiled children. Real talk...most of us have so much to feel gratitude towards that even though times seem scary, the darkness doesn’t have to be that heavy.
And before we get into it...to be clear I’m not one of those women that is telling people to go and seek love and light when your world is falling apart. I’ve been through the ringer too. My life hasn’t always been easy but the older I get, the more I realize that despite all the bullshit...living, breathing, and having a beating heart puts most of us ahead in the game.
Life isn’t always going to be a pocket full of rainbows. Sometimes there’s storms. Sometimes there’s fires and explosions. Sometimes our straight and narrow and well defined paths become detours full of rocky roads. But there is something you must understand...these dismantled streets define you just as much as easy greatness does. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk...shall we begin the real reason I’m here now? I think so...so let’s get to it.
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Apparently this big ball of fun I call 2020 has made everyone an expert in just about everything...when in actuality NONE OF US KNOW SHIT. MYSELF INCLUDED.
I’m not too prideful to understand that I still have so much to learn. But that’s not what this post is about. If you want a fight...go to FB. I am positive you will find the argument you are looking for there. This isn’t the post for that. I will save my rants for another day. There are many but as I said...this post is sticking to something else...an attitude filled with fucking gratitude.
For weeks now, I have watched a dash blink on my screen begging for words to be filled in. I realized it was ME HOLDING MY THOUGHTS BACK.
So I told myself, just one more day. One more day to wrap my head around what I truly wanted to say and just to be sure there was no more stalling...I lit my Creativity Candle for that extra kick.
My blog wasn’t just created to air out all my grievances. It was also meant to celebrate where I have been, the lessons I have learned....and the guidance I have received. It’s a blog about little ole me. Every scar and fracture...every happy moment that I never want to end...a way to deal with what is going on around me.
This morning...I pushed through my exercise regimen...even though I wasn’t feeling it. Then just as I promised myself...I started to write....even though I still wasn’t feeling it. Ugh...any creative person goes through this. The block of blankness.
Regardless of content though, I was getting this done.
Yes! Before you say anything...I am very much aware that content does matter. I agree...you should be adding value to what represents you but sometimes you have to yank that aside, pull your head out of your ass and just show up. Face the task at hand and just start to create. The words, the art, the passion will form as you go along.
Must or Bust!
Make the commitment and go.
And what does Alex A, Ásgeir, and all the other ‘positives’ that have occurred in the last few months have to do with this? Everything. Absolutely everything.
Covid may have me staying put but it doesn’t have me standing still.
A backstory...for those that are new to this blog but also just because you will need to hear this part in order to understand the rest of it. I will try to keep it short and sweet though. Emphasis on the word try. I hope you will enjoy, regardless.
The last two days of 2019, I was introduced to both Ásgeir and Alex.
I was reluctantly leaving Iceland after the most perfect holiday abroad. Had I known what was about to hit my country in a few months...I might have found a way to stay or at least return to the country in which I was born; Germany.
Had I known...I would have said, “Nope...I’m taking the risk and becoming an illegal immigrant until my paperwork comes back making me an official German citizen again. I’m not leaving. You. Can’t. Make. Me! Please, don’t make me!”
Alas, my ability to see into the future doesn’t always pan out. It doesn’t always work and it doesn’t always appear.
So I had to return back to the United States.
And here I am. In this God-Forsaken country that’s been hijacked by a reality star billionaire who’s playing president and his cult of delicate flower minions. Yay! Fun. Good times...said me never, not once in the last four fucking years.
Make America Great Again...yeah...more like Make America Hate Again.
I digress...
At least I returned to a state that by comparison to others, kicks fucking ass. I’m not saying we don’t have our issues but in all honesty...I have never been more grateful to live where I do until now. Until this year...until I got to see the absurdity happening all around me. Far and wide.
My state has been called the Europe of the United States and if I can’t be in the real Europe than at least I’m in a place that’s comparable. And at this point, I will take what I can fucking get.
Seriously...at this current moment...you couldn’t pay me to live anywhere else in this country. Not for a day nor hour nor month nor year. I am perfectly content right where I am. For once in what seems to be forever. Even missing the ocean doesn’t make me want to leave. And that’s huge! Huuuuugggge!
My long trek back to the states was the flight that changed everything. I’m used to weird shit happening to me when I fly but this was the decent kind of weird shit. Not the ‘this sucks’ kinda weird shit. You know, the type of flight experience where I’m felt up by TSA security to the point someone needs to by someone else an adult bevy or not that terrible shit of being searched because my last name seems too foreign that I might be a terrorist or not that awful shit where my flight entertainment involves a drunk bitch with multiple personalities sitting next to me. Anyone else have these super fun experiences? Anyone...anyone? Just me...can’t be. I’m sure some of you know exactly what I am on about here...soooooo yay to us...we are in the Airport Search and Seek Out Crew.
No. That Iceland flight was different. It was a turning point. A metaphorical fire being lit under my ass kinda weird.
Enter Alex and his character Ivar from the show Vikings. I binged on what was available. Almost eight hours. I have never been so preoccupied on a long flight like this. I mean, I waited to the very last moment to turn off my T.V...my husband ever so patiently and lovingly tapping me, “We’ve landed, babe...we are the last ones left, babe! Turn the show off, babe!”
Oh..he knew how involved I was in this show...he got it. He understood completely. Thank you Iceland Air, by the way. This flight...although a little warm...will go down as one of the best flights I’ve ever been on...and I’ve ridden in first class a few times. It had nothing to do with class though...and everything to do with the wisdom I was willing to finally hear.
My biggest take away: kick ass, sea bass!! Now is your time to shine.
I landed and the next day after catching up on some much needed sleep I discovered Ásgeir. It was like my phone knew exactly where I had been and knew I needed a fix for my Icelandic withdrawal. And, oh man...I was having them...and bad. I was so sad to be back home.
That was New Year’s Eve.
That night both my husband and I fell asleep at 6pm. Technically our body clocks were seven hours ahead but at midnight our time, he woke us up. We at least wanted to say happy new year to each other but inside of going right back to sleep, he got his laptop it and we proceeded to watch another episode of Vikings.
Later that morning, I found myself with Ásgeir in my earbuds and my camera in hand. Reminiscing on my recent adventure. Editing photos. Inspired by the tunes in my head. I stopped and went into a writing frenzy.
It was as if thoughts that had been trapped in a cage for all these years, finally had their escape. Words were finally being released from a mental prison. I stayed in this creative zone for hours and at first it was just notes with no home. Just like my photos were pictures but pictures no one saw.
In between the creative flow, I took breaks and watched for episodes of Vikings. Ivar and his ridiculous madness, I understood on a strange complex level. Some of the things his character seemed like universal words of wisdom. Kinda like seeing a quote that hits you with all the feels.
Ásgeir and Alex were on a continuous loop...on repeat...for pretty much the entirety of January and February. The most amazing part, Ásgeir was playing my city in March.
I bought tickets.
Meanwhile in the background a pandemic was swallowing up the globe. I wasn’t paying that much attention. I brushed it off. Because like many of you, I didn’t comprehend the severity....I was too busy looking ahead at the new year. What would make 2020 stand out? Where would I go? What would I do? What adventures would I partake in? What would happen this year?
Never taking into consideration that every single question I asked would be answered but in a completely mind boggling, goosebumps way.
Finally March rolls around and just like that this pandemic is finally taken seriously. It’s in full swing in my country.
Two days before the Ásgeir show, my city goes into lockdown. The future now becomes uncertain.
A show...although disappointing in its postponement becomes the least of my worries.
My mom.
The state of the world.
What’s to come of all this...taking precedence over anything else.
I had to figure out a way to cope because here I am in lockdown with the rest of the world trying to make sense of it all.
Watching people die. Watching the economy tank. Watching people fight. Watching the world turn upside down. Watching toilet paper disappear. It was all so surreal.
I stayed positive. Anytime I felt down, I turned to my photography. Anytime FB became too much, I turned on Alex or Ásgeir. I wrote. I edited photos. I kept busy.
I had to make the most of quarantine. My quarantine dream! Lol.
I dug deeper into the world of Alex. At best he was keeping me from losing my damn mind every time I went down the FB rabbit hole. My frustration, disappointment, and disgust diverted by by a foreign stranger I didn’t know.
I found out he’s an aspiring photographer. Hmmmm....me too. I found out he was a Taurus...yes, bro! Our sign kicks astrological ass. I found out his fans are crazy and although I’m a little bonkers too...I’m not insane like that. Still they fed me. Preoccupied me. Sometimes had me watching the drama unfold with popcorn in hand.
I thank all of you as well.
But that wasn’t just it. A dream, a fantasy prevented by time and place finally reevaluated. My photography needed a home. My words needed a proper place to be recorded....and just like that...they both did.
On March 7th...with Alex/Ivar’s encouragement...I started a photography page. The support there has been overwhelming. I get excited at every organic follow and like. I’m not verified yet...nowhere close but that’s the goal and I will get there....and even when I do...I will still appreciate the hell out of every interaction I get.
A semi-famous person who played a character that’s soul I truly got...switched the game all up for me. I was going after what I really wanted...not just creatively but internally and financially.
The ‘I cannot’ becoming the ‘I can’ and ‘I will’.
All because I was faced with this uncertain future and two strangers keeping me diligent in my pursuits.
The dream and fantasy was about doing. Creating. Being a bonafide artist in one shape or form. Living in this moment instead of sitting in the past or consistently looking ahead.
Writing.
Photography.
Being my own boss.
The goals.
The wishes.
The visions.
Finally coming together in beautifully unified motions. A synchronized swimming routine that left me floating in the sun.
I got tired of hiding from enemies who didn’t want to see me succeed.
BE FUCKING RUTHLESS....IT WAS NOW OR NEVER.
No distractions.
No excuses.
It was time.
I’m not ashamed of the adversity I have faced...but through it all...even when I was at my most broken, I kept going. The motto, “This too shall pass,” drilled into my head.
This too shall pass....
And the months did...with very little outside movement. My home becoming a best bud. My photography of past adventures becoming trips I could currently take. My thoughts on current events assisted by the sounds of Ásgeir’s voice. The two molding together in perfect harmony and display. One supporting the other and me supporting them all.
My feelings on life in general planting themselves firmly into present day musings.
It all meant something and it needed to be shared.
I began to peel the layers.
One by one.
I have a voice.
I carry value.
I am a creative person too!
My inner warrior is strong.
I believe...therefore I will.
Sound off the mantra.
What the hell was I afraid of?
Inexperience?
Critics?
Self-esteem?
I wasn’t new to failure. I had experienced many an epic failure before but wasn’t the root of any failure not trying at all?
Then my husband had one heart-to-heart with me and it stuck.
“Do you write?” He asked.
“Yes.” I replied.
“Then you are a writer.” He responded.
“Do you take photographs?” He questioned.
“Yes!” I happily answered.
“Then you are a photographer, babe. Don’t let labels and societal expectations define you. We wouldn’t be here if that’s who we were.” He reassured me.
Covid.
Quarantine.
Lockdown.
Alex.
Ásgeir.
My husband.
These have everything to do with where I am now.
I could either sink into the chaos or approach it with a warrior like stance? I chose to go Ivar on my ass.
Besides...occupying the mind with appreciative bounty is far better than bombarding it with perpetual displeasure. The mind is a powerful tool.
Drum roll, please....I now give you my CGL...
Also known as the Covid Gratitude List...because as silly as it seems it took Covid to recognize everything I am grateful for.
•I am a not a teacher. My life ultimately switched paths. I went to school to be a teacher and It didn’t happen. A devastating blow that I now realize had a reason for panning out as it did. I’m not sure I’d be able to teach right now. I’m not sure putting my life at risk is worth the $30k I would be making. It sounds terrible but it’s the truth. It’s also a reason I wear a mask! Some have no other option than to work a field that puts them in harms way. Some have no other option than to work a job that requires them to leave the house. Some make peanuts and have crappy health care. I’m not going to put you in risk because of a face covering.
•I don’t have children. Another development that broke me to pieces when I found out. Another universal pull that knew more than I did at the time and looking back at this doctor’s visit...I’m not sure I’d be able to cope with throwing my children into this pandemic gauntlet so I rest a little easier every night knowing it’s just me and my husband I have to worry about We are only a few weeks shy of schools opening where I live and I have said more than once in 2020, “I’ve never been so happy that I can’t have children.” Truly, I wouldn’t trade being kid free for that damn bundle of joy right now at all. What a decisions parents are facing right now. That’s why I refuse to get into this great debate. It’s personal, there’s no win and my empathy is greater than my opinion.
•My photography page and blog. These two have helped me cope with what the world is turning into as of late. I can’t go anywhere and if I can...I rarely do or want to. Going to the grocery store is hard enough. I’m not a fan of the mask but I don’t trust the human population and their failed attempts at hygiene. Traveling anywhere equals some sort of fear. Be it rational or irritations...it is there. I have said this before and I will say it again. It took a pandemic to alert the world how important washing your damn hands were and it took celebrities to show you how. So my photography page has become the trips I cannot take. My blog has become an outward source of thinking. Quarantine bound me to two outlets I have always wanted to explore more passionately but I never gave myself the concentration it took to make either happen. I rarely stayed present. I rarely made time to sit and write to the degree of publishing my work. I rarely gave myself more than ten minutes to edit a photo. I rarely gave time to these two creative joys. Lockdown made me get present. Lockdown had me sitting at home and staying put. I had nothing else to do...and like I said before inspiration galore. It was either start creating something or fall into a quarantine couch coma. Those were the options. You can only watch so many things or make so much bread, if ya catch what I am saying. And yes...I read as well but that’s always been part of my routine...but this was different. A whole new experience that only happened because of Covid.
•I appreciate living in my western state. Specifically out of the mountain town I first arrived in. Even though a few short years ago, I damned it to hell and debated going back to where I once lived. Even though a few short years ago everything fell apart and I failed once more at one more thing I had tried. And even though...I had to start all over again, harder still. The struggle straight up fucking real...again...the universe knew more than I did. Everything crashing and burning was meant to be. Had it not happened this way...I’d still be stuck there...making my boss money instead of myself. Making my boss’s dreams come true instead of my own. Walking away meant walking towards what was actually meant for me. Sitting here now, I know those sleepless nights and endless days filled with worry weren’t done in vain. They had a purpose that I had to trust and now makes so much sense.
•I applaud the fire that came from it. A fire so fierce and bright that I finally took notice. It’s heat leaving my face feeling warm and flush and energized...and no longer burned.
•I am grateful that that fire tore everything down. It coercively had me rebuild on my own damn terms. I am now stronger and more radiant than I have ever been.
•I appreciate the quarantine and the lockdown. I appreciate having a remote job that never ended and in turn became my small business. In all this chaos, I became a small business owner because I was forced to focus on this goal over anything else. There was nothing else to do...except make this dream fucking dream come true.
•I’m gleaming with pride that I reactivated all my accounts. Twitter had a whole other side...a writing family encouraging me to share and post and follow and lift. Supporting me...with every word I wrote. Which led to other accounts being built and finding other outlets for exposure. These accounts got me out of my own way. Took me from nerves to acting like Nike, “Just Do it.”
•I’m glad I discovered TikTok and it hours of hilarious entertainment and its endless videos letting me know I’m not alone when it comes to many things. Although, I have yet to make one, I know I will soon enough but I more excited to see a platform that shows the rest of the world that all U.S citizens aren’t giant turds waving an American flags in one hand and a gun in the other. The flag of course attached to a bible.
•I’m wild over my new found interest in Spotify. One of those accounts I deactivated because music was one of those things I didn’t want to hear or share. Music is part of my soul...and for awhile that soul was sad and felt defeated...silence was the only reprieve. Except my silence meant the voices in my head only got louder with no avail of being heard. The hiding. The silence. It wasn’t me. And when I mean voices...I mean my inner dialogue telling me to keep my head low and to never be proud. What a crock of shit! What a load of crap. I deserve to be proud and so what if people can feel what I am through musical sound....that’s the whole point, isn’t it?
•I am fond of my journal, my vision board, and my exploration into my earth bound spiritual side. No I’m not sacrificing children or small animals but I have delve deeper into this mystic realm. Rituals have become a routine. Manifesting has become a regular mental exercise. Done right after 20 minutes on the elliptical.
•I am thankful for the unexpected tug that ultimately led to this blind leap into scary artistic territory! Because of Alex. Because of Ásgeir. Because of Iceland and Europe. Because of my last trip and uncertainty surrounding future travel. Because of my husband. Because of Covid. Because. Because. Because. Because even life’s lows can’t put a pause on life’s must to go’s.
I’m not going to stop looking at the bright side of things. These are just a few of the things I have to be grateful for. Hell, the most magical moments have nothing to do with me. My mom...she’s healthy. The earth got a chance to breathe...and we all watched it happen. Racial boundaries are being knocked down....and we’re all watching it happen. Life is still continuing and we’re all involved in its happening.
This list could go on for miles because every minute of every day there is something I count my blessings for.
I urge all of you to make a similar list. Give thanks for what you have. As you always should. The roof over your head matters, the modern conveniences count too, the food you eat, the air you breathe, the living pulse you have...the core of what is most important...all equate to tiny miracles being thrown your way.
We’re still in the thick of it and we’re all in this together. One thing or another connecting each one of us. And while I write these very words of how grateful I am, my heart amplified even more with why I should be this grateful given Beirut’s most recent fall.
We can only go so far with misery tugging at our coat strings. Shake that shit off...realize you have infinite wealth and not just in the monetary tone but something more...something bigger and badder and better.
Life is short. Live it. Live is short....so love the life you have.
It’s been a while and I appreciate that I finally gave myself something to write...the candle...it helped too. And, hopefully I helped some of you.
I leave you with this a quote of my own...a BLOGGING BAE original:
“Life is tough...so wear a helmet and truck on. You’ll sustain some injuries and you’ll learn some lessons along the way...but until you get grateful for what you have...tomorrow will never clear up any questions you had involving yesterday.”
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