#It’s so weird how we need to take the smallest things serious for tim

[starlooove]

Ppl will proudly say Jack and Janet are abusive enough to use your best American girl for TIM DRAKE (enough.) but turn around and go ‘canon my detested for bad dad bruce’ and it’s funny bc the idea that Jack and Janet suck do nothing for tims actual character unless it’s fandom characterization. The most I can see is him being more secretive and lying to protect ppl he cares about but that’s a given anyways - pretending that tim is like heavily neglected and hurt to justify shit u make up is so weird when u can’t even stomach that the way everyone else acts is a result of Bruce being a bad parent? Even if like casual physical abuse is ooc why they hell is everyone else so paranoid and competitive for what they perceive as limited affection? NOOOW it’s just Bruce can’t communicate and it’s not his fault a conversation therapy from his coworker and sillay moments will fix it - but Jack and Janet should rot what the fuck 😭

[mmagazinemoment]

Why my past loves make me want to look into nihilism as a lifestyle.

Good morning, midday, afternoon, or evening to you my fellow queers and allies and plain and simply gorgeous humans. You see I have already written another version of this edition but instead I have a pure heroine filled piece instead, and you may not be ready for it because it covers a few serious points but it’s also the (fuck your ex) vibe, not literally…unlesssssss * insert meme*. Thanks for joining me again my loves

 Why my past loves make me want to look into nihilism as a lifestyle

You ever just meet someone and fall completely into their arms and become almost a complete and utter 3rd leg of the other? What I mean in all seriousness is, don’t you ever feel like the love game grows on you like a drug addiction and I know some of you will see this and be thinking? What do you mean “the love game” I know it’s not a game, a figure of speech as such. Basically, what I’m trying to say is have you ever loved someone so much that you didn’t see the signs of detrimental dysfunction.

Wow that all sounds so serious, let me dial it down a little, I’m just trying this new thing called being uncensored and not caring about preconceived notions of myself from external eyes. Months ago, I was shattered into a million pieces and I won’t blame just him because it was my fault for thinking every relationship or whatever it was, was going to end up like a tv romance, no that’s a lie. I over invested and blamed him for hurting my own self, sure he had something to do with it, but he wasn’t just to blame. Can’t tell me I don’t know how to take accountability (wow I’m funny).

For instance, in a movie you meet and lock eyes with someone and the breeze grasps your hair, when I met said person, I was like ‘omg he’s tall, I’m going to fall in love with a giraffe’ and then I tried to build a home in him, without the investment and time taken to be careful with my time and words of affirmation in efforts to receive reciprocation I never got unless it was backhanded or what I wanted to hear. So how did you perceive your first love? Did he/she/they look pleasing? Or was it the scent of their perfume or cologne? Did they dress in a floral vintage outfit or was it a suit and tie? Ballet flats or sneakers? Tell me? I want to know all of the juicy details!

I know some of you probably didn’t ask or ever want to know but my first love happened in a series of me closing doors journeying through my uneasy sexuality labelling and let’s be real, fuck labels am I right? (unless you find comfortability and closure under a label and with that you’re perfectly valid), Love to me was like heroine and in some senses it still is. When I first learnt of love, it didn’t feel like love, it felt like obligation, perhaps a trend. Love felt like learning all he moves to a Tik Tok dance as fast as possible before the hype disappeared, and it became irrelevant again, questionable reference point but blame social media not me. I was never satisfied.

Keep in mind this was 15-year-old me, trying to gain some sense of validation to seem a little less repressed and not confused because before 15 year old me realised that 12 year old me wasn’t as weird as I thought.  I was under this veil of non-transparency and speaking on the subject of transparency I must tell you 12 was the year of age I realised that I wasn’t like the other boys at school, just swooning for girls and getting scared of cooties, I was just begging to be seen by whoever had eyes to care. Sounds dramatic I know.

Nobody was ever there to tell me at such a young age that there were others like me, “different”, the type of boy who watched rebel without a cause and felt weird when James Dean was looking so gorgeous and composed in that leather jacket or admiring Tim Curry when he dressed like no man I’d ever seen on a movie screen in or even real life in the Rocky Horror Show, something sparked in… me. I started on the smallest step I knew, acknowledgement, I knew I could find a home in the fact that there were more people like me, and wow I was right. I was finding comfort in what I knew, I found a few gorgeous women and obviously because of my age we thought that holding hands and a peck on the cheek was all we needed in life from the label of ‘relationship’, but it was only ever a weekly process. Anytime I found ‘love’ I wouldn’t know what to do with it without the chase, like a dog chasing a bone. Even to this day I have never had a successfully long relationship but at least these days it’s not because of my toxic traits, I like to think I’ve grown a considerate amount since I was 15. Don’t get me wrong, neither of those experiences were love? How could they be?

Ironically love happened even ‘after’ I was in a relationship. I had another relationship when I was 17, it lasted a little longer than the prior, it went for a month and a half, I was convinced I loved her, so sappy but you wanted transparency right? I have a lot of it. After that, my ex brought to attention after she cheated on me that I was using her as a sort of beard to cover up the truth about myself, I never knew how to perceive myself until then and that was only the second step, there was so much more to cover.

Skip forward past a few experiences leading up the near current, I met someone, a sort of fleeting romance, now (forewarning, this gets sappy) we talked for a few weeks if my memory isn’t hazy, and we quickly developed something no short of a connection. FaceTime after FaceTime I’d gather more and more pictures of his goofy face and at one stage, I thought I was going to be happy for the foreseeable future, then came reality. You can’t be loved by someone who doesn’t want to face themselves and you can’t help them anymore than what you’re capable of giving out. I didn’t listen to that, naturally things just got worse, and I hated everything…

He would apologise, I would validate his actions to friends who were concerned and realising that I was getting too soon attached and it wasn’t going to end well and I copped the consequences, I still have only recently not found regret in messing up this badly because if I didn’t make that mistake then I would’ve just witnessed those mistakes I made in the lap of somebody else and this is where the saying goes, better the devil you known then the devil you don’t. let me tell you it did more than a number on my mental health before I added up the reasons as tallies against us and internalised what I should’ve subtracted (hehe see what I did there). In all seriousness I wanted the thrill, I sure as hell got one.

Your mental health is amplified by your lifestyle choices and the people you choose to keep in your circle, friendship, or relationships regardless, the whole thing was out of whack and a tornado was nothing less than the accurate definition of where I was at, and it hurt a lot but sometimes it’s best to leave that situation if that person who you thought was going to be there for a while and a necessity to your life ends up being the detriment. (as Ashley Frangipane said) “its crazy when the thing you love the most is the detriment, let that sink in”.  

 If there is one piece of advice that I want whoever sees this to take with them it’s this, Keep your space sacred baby, you only have one life, but also please do not criticize yourself for getting caught in the motion sickness, sometimes you just can’t avoid it and that’s ok. Life is not a movie, life is more like the behind the scenes extra that puts everything into perspective, it’s rational and shows the hard work put in place to make the art and you should remind yourself as such. Remember also that if you cannot cope with all of the stress that presents itself in your life, that there are people that are equipped to help you hold some of the baggage for you until you are ready to take it back and analyse it. Whatever your grief is, I assure you, you’re not alone.

As always, stay healthy and strut your shit and I cannot stress this enough but keep raging against the machine and the super straights xoxo without the gossip girl, farewell until the next piece of The Mantra Magazine. *keep this in mind* next issue will be a little forward, it will include themes of segregation and war regarding the families of the Palestinians and Israeli conflicts happening right now. So, bring some tissues and an open mind. Farewell.

[moonraisedsunchild]

Fear is a hell of a drug

One of the things i mentioned @coffee-randomness and i am using the prompt thing. It has 1 and like 51.

There is a bit of cursing.

~

“I feel like I’m losing my damn mind.” Hansa mumbled as she did her best to shrink down more. She had her back to a corner and was sitting with her knees drawn to her chest. Her chest felt heavy and like her heart was being squeezed. Jason had found her minutes ago and he looked unsure on how to help her.

She could feel the cold trail of tears on her face that made her want to duck down and hide her vulnerability from the world. Three days of no sleep and a canister of fear toxins had her jumping at every shadow while she did everything she could not to scream at the things that appeared before her eyes.

She was pretty sure she had escaped Batman’s notice when she had helped out on a patrol three days ago. She had kept the gas from dispersing to civilians but accidentally ended up inhaling a majority of the gas herself before she slinked away to her apartment where she had shacked up for the three days.

“Well,” Jason commented quietly, “that explains why you were silent for three days” he continued as he knelt nearby but didn’t move closer. He frowned hearing her whisper “your not real. Your just trying to get to me again. Get it over with.”

Jason didn’t move to touch her even though he wanted to. He could see her heart hammering just by the movement of her body which was still if not for her hammering heart and her rapid breathing. The last thing he wanted to do was startle her into an offensive mode. An out of control Azure Riptide was something that was a big fear for Hansa.

“Come on! What are you waiting for!” Hansa yelled at him and she started fidgeting as she grew agitated. He could spot her nervous tics as well as the signs she was edging toward some sort of anxiety attack from lack of sleep and the constant vigilance her paranoia demanded.

Jason would secretly admit he was a bit out of his element here. He just wasn’t sure how to help but he knew three people that would know something. He pulled out his phone before grudgingly calling Tim’s phone. Tim had known Hansa longest, knew her best, and knew a thing or two about anxiety. Whether he knew how to help Hansa was to be seen though.

Tim’s phone was answered with the question “you find her?” And Jason would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious. “I found her at her apartment. She is not doing too hot. Fear toxins and a lot of it apparently. Enough to make Hansa look a minute away from cracking under the pressure” Jason told him and heard Tim swear before there was a sound of movement on the phone.

Jason glanced at Hansa and saw that she looked the smallest bit less on edge from the little she could probably hear of Tim’s voice. “Jay, I am heading your way. Just try not to move or anything if you can help it. You might set her off by accident” Tim told him and Jason scowled but gave a sound in agreement.

The only movement Jason allowed himself was to go from kneeling to sitting. Hansa’s eyes follow the movement but he can tell that she isn’t seeing him so much as her mind is twisting his movements into something threatening. He sees her muscles tense as if she will spring in seconds.

She makes an almost choking sound from how dry her throat is and likely meant for it to sound threatening. She has always tried imitating wolves and bears but hasn’t been successful yet. Jason feels his throat tighten making it hard to swallow with how useless he feels right now.

Before Jason has too much time to be upset with current events, Tim carefully enters Hansa’s apartment carrying a bottle of raspberry lemonade. Tim moves so he is walking from behind Jason. He doesn’t want to make her feel threatened if she has to split her attention between two different spots.

When Tim gets closer, it is obvious that his presence relaxses Hansa the tiniest bit. She still is acting like a coiled rattle snake but she looks less like she might suddenly go for someones throat. She’s calmer but less than Jason thought she would have been by seeing Tim, who had been a close friend to her since she got a scholarship to Gotham Academy, which made Jason feel better and worse.

“Hansa, here’s some of your favorite lemonade.” Tim said as he leaned over and gently set the bottle a few feet from her. Her eyes followed the movement almost suspiciously before she croaked out “promise?”

Tim held back a smile. He was pretty sure that Hansa would take that as a threat if he did. “Pinky promise” he replied and held out his hand with his pinky by itself. He didn’t expect her to do the same but it gave her the reassurance enough for her to reach out and take the bottle.

Hansa took a sip while keeping her eyes on them but they could see she seemed to like it. Hansa started drinking eagerly and by the time half the bottle was empty Hansa started getting drowsy. She made a distressed sound and Tim walked over. He sat down before pulling Hansa into his arms to soothe her as she struggled to stay awake.

“I’ve got you, you’re safe now.” Tim told her softly. “Jason and I will protect you. You just get some rest now so you’ll feel better.” Tim continued until Hansa was asleep in his arms with a frown on her face.

“What did you do?” Jason asked looking suspicious. “The lemonade has a bit of some sleep medicine in it. Not enough to taste but she’s always been sensitive to medicine like that.” Tim explained.

“It would have taken hours or even days to get her calm. She’s been like that for three days. She is probably lucky to be alive and probably did it through force of will” Tim continued before he and Jason stood up.

Tim held Hansa out for Jason to carry as he knew Jason would want to hold his girlfriend to reassure himself that she was okay or at least would be. Tim leads them from her apartment and locks the door behind them before heading to the car he came in.

“We should get her checked out at the cave. To make sure that when she wakes up, she won’t be under the influence of the fear toxins.” Tim told him and Jason nodded before moving to seat Hansa in the backseat. He had come over on his motorcycle thinking that Hansa had just gotten caught up in a game or a book.

~

The drive over was quick before both boys got Hansa out of the car and onto a bed in the cave. There had been some arguments between Jason and the rest of the family about the identity nonsense until Jason exploded yelling at them.

“Hansa knows all our identities and has for years. She is Azure Riptide and has been close friends with Tim for years. So what, now that she’s dating me she suddenly isn’t trustworthy!?!” Jason had shouted stunning a few of them.

They had wanted to blindfold her but both Tim and Jason vetoed the idea knowing that Hansa would momentarily freak out thinking she had gone blind. Alfred’s arrival down in the cave distracted both boys for a moment but the moment was just long enough for Damian to tie Hansa down to the bed.

Jason noticed and started fighting with Damian over it. “You mentioned she is a restless sleeper. She could mess up the IV.” Damian said to explain. “That is a horrible way to do it. Hansa won’t even need the gas to freak out about this.” Jason argued.

“Yeah, tying her down like that will give her an anxiety attack. She gave herself one once by imagining something like this. Like i get the reason but this isn’t the way to do it.” Tim said in agreement with Jason. It was a bit weird to be agreeing with him but that was what they got with Jason dating a close friend of Tim’s.

~

Once things had quieted down, Jason and Tim sat next to Hansa’s bedside. They weren’t expecting her to wake up but she seemed to stir. When she was awake enough, she focused her eyes on Tim before saying “That was a dick move. Thanks though, Asshole.”

Tim gave a small laugh before he said “Pinky Promises can be broken if the need is dire. You told me that.” Hansa gave a half hearted glare before shooing him so she could talk to Jason before she fell asleep again.

“Pretty stupid of me. Trying to deal with being gassed alone. Sorry” she told him looking regretful as she sat up. She might not remember everything about those three days, having probably repressed most of it, but she could tell that whatever had happened had hurt or at least really upset him.

“Yeah it was stupid. You could have died.“Jason grumbled and Hansa grabbed hold of his hand that was near hers as of he had been holding hers before she woke up. "Sorry you saw me like that” she apologized and Jason gave a scowl.

“You stupid fuck, I was worried and useless. You saw me as a threat. Tim all but waltzed in and you were fine with him.” Jason said sounding angry though she couldn’t tell who he was angry at.

“Jason, don’t you get it? I am not afraid of you but of what you could do. You could break up with me, leave me, hate me, reject me, and a bunch of other shit.” She explained looking almost sad that he didn’t realize that.

“Tim has been my friend for years. i won’t lie there was a time near the beginning, i wondered if we could be more, but it wouldn’t have worked out. there are things i fear he could do too but most of them are the same as my fears of you.” She continued and raised an eyebrow when she saw his free hand curl into a fist before clenching.

“He and i have talked about them before though. I know they are still possible but he has been there when i needed him so my mind trusts him a bit more. That isn’t saying i don’t trust you or am not already half in love with you.” Hansa says urgently trying to get him to hear her.

“Loving someone gives them a lot of power to hurt you and that scares me shitless” Hansa says with a teary laugh. Jason had seemed to jump to attention hearing her say those things. He seemed to be watching her intensely as if trying to read her which wasn’t very hard as she was still half asleep and looked a bit delirious.

“Go back to sleep, dipshit. I’ll be here when you wake up fully rested.” Jason told her giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Hansa gave a small fond smile before she laid back down while still holding his hand. She drew it close to her chest as she slowly felt herself drifting to sleep. Jason sighed unclenching his fist before using the hand to lightly run his fingers through her hair.

[swearronchanel]

Am I making this a thing too often? Oh well, I HAVE THOUGHTS IM SORRY

Series 6 is finally here & the first episode was pretty intense so I’m watching it again & I guess just posting my thoughts that no one actually asked for 

- COLOR! Or COLOUR, either way new intro 

- Ok I actually really like this, time are changing #LetsGetIt1962 

- Shelagh and Angela omg, Tim shaving! Cute Turner Morning but now that I’ve seen this once, this could’ve been a chance to show Shelagh having morning sickness 

 - Sister MJ dancing is the cutest thing

 - welp here comes Sister Ursula ready to ruin everything. If she wants to “gyrate” let her wtf 

- Patsy fixing Delia’s hair is cute but let’s be real Patsy’s needs the fixing - Ugh again Sister U, go away

 - welcome home fam, it’s about to get real

 - I miss my bby Trixie but I’m not going to dwell on it because I know she’ll be back - like the minimal food isn’t even the worst of it, just get ready. *** ALSO, Sister Ursula is lowkey petty with that line “don’t sit down yet please, the mother house will be calling soon” She’s knows what’s about to go down and is enjoying it. 

 - Sister Julienne’s voice cracking, she looks so sad. My heart. Why would she be demoted?! I still don’t get it. 

 - * Awkward clapping *

 - So did Patrick not notice Shelagh was constantly sick and carrying around those rennies? 

 - “Biscuits are for fainters”, which is funny because she tells Mickey later on to go with her and find the biscuit tin. 

 - No Patrick we’re not having a raffle lol 

- “We’re taking a gamble is you ask me” Shelagh’s accent sounds so cute in an serious tone haha 

- Sister MJ’s little angry moment with the duster, I feel. 

- Can we see sister MJ with Angela please? - Why does Mickey need a patch for astigmatism? My brother has it in one eye and always just wore regular glasses. I feel the glasses struggle though, I love my frames but I hate wearing them. Okay off track whoops - 

 - I knew the husband(Lester) wasn’t to be trusted from the get. - - WHERE DID SHE TAKE THE DAMN TV? 

- aw Tom. 

 - That’s all lol. I don’t know why this ring story isn’t that appealing to me? kinda boring 

 - PATSY IN JEANS YES, HERE FOR THE NEW WARDROBES 

 - Also all the cocktails, I love it. Barbara was some “practice” haha. Patsy’s toast was cute  

 - That random guy telling Phyllis “give us all a thrill” and she cringed. That’s me  

- Lol @ Barbara’s Zsa Zsa Gabor reference but she just died so RIP - - I wanna knock Lester tf out 

- This is period drama indeed but sadly, this is not an issue of the past. - 

 - Everyone feels bad for Sister J 

 - “No I can’t prescribe, because I’m only 15!” 😂😂 I’m dead. - I wish he would get more screentime haha. I’m almost hoping he’ll feel weird about the new baby so he can have some kind of interesting storyline 

- Sister W’s face telling Tim “comb your hair”, why does she make the funniest faces - “Cape Town Tummy” lol if that’s what you wanna call it 

 - Thank the climate appropriate bri-nylon for Baby Turner - Can Patrick please make a joke about it? Like Fred can squeeze his wife’s ass, let Patrick at least have a good line 

 - “Is it both ends?” wtf sister W😂 why would you ask?

 - Shelagh’s so polite “the smallest room haha" 

 - IM LAUGHING BUT CRINGING AT SISTER WINIFRED’S FACE I LOVE IT - 

- Lol here’s freco Fred 

 - Why does it even matter if Barbara has a ring to show off Violet, we didn’t see yours lol - 

 - Oh no he’s taking Mickey right 

 - Shit yes he is, WHYY - this kid is so precious omg 

 - Why would he tell is son this 

 - THIS STRESSES ME OUT UGH I KNOW WHATS GONNA HAPPEN

 - Coño this man pisses me off 

 - Mickey 😪 

- Damn it Peter why do you always have bad news - 

 - "Television kills the conversation” no you kill the conversation 

 - PHYLLIS’S REACTION IS GOLD

 - what are Patsy and Delia doing? 

 - YES LESTER YOU’RE A DISGUSTING COWARD, I WISH I COULD PERSONALLY HURT YOU 

 - my heart hurts but I’m also furious 

- lol babs with pottery is symbolism of me handling university

 - Why was this relevant though, that could’ve been another Shelagh scene 

- Yes Trudy with the knife. So strong. I’m here for her 

 - HOW DARE SISTER U QUESTION SISTER MC’S FAITH 

 - YOU DONT EVEN KNOW HER 

- Trudy really walked her way over like that’s incredible, she just was hit so hard. 

 - YES SISTER JULIENNE 

 - I can’t wait till she storms out again bc that was empowering, forget that vow of obedience for a second 

 - I don’t even care the Sister U is nice to Mickey, it’s too late for redemption I know what you say later to Dr Turner and it cancels out  

- MUCAS EXTRACTOR 

 - Shelagh’s best at that  

 - Why was there no scene showing Mickey at the Turners !!? That would’ve been precious 

 - Phyllis 💔 I freaking love her. Especially her with Trudy at the end 

- “You contradicted my authority last night” YES TF SHE DID IM PROUD 

- YES SHE LEFT, NONNATUS IS STILL YOURS SISTER J 

 - SOMEONE GIF THAT JACKET PART  

 - Yes Trudy. She played this so well 

- I wish I cared more about Barbara and Tom

 - They’re cute but idk I just don’t care enough. The ring part at the end is cute because who cares about convention I’m here for that.  

 - Oh no this is the part right 

-  shoot yea it is. Sister Mary Cynthia 😪 

 - PATRICK SHOULDVE PUNCHED HIM 

- sister J not forcing her way in, I’m glad 

- Sister MJ 💔 my freaking heart is shattering 

 - Give Bryony an award for this 

 - Such a heartbreaking, accurate yet beautifully performed depiction of mental illness 

 - THE GROUP HUG, THIS IS WHERE THE TEARS STARTED  

 - AYE COÑO SISTER J AND SHELAGH 

- THIS IS WHERE I LOST IT THE FIRST TIME, RIGHT AFTER “IM SO AFRAID” - I’m going to insert a picture because I’m serious I was sobbing 

 - Shelagh’s skirt is so pretty 

- I’m here for her outfit, lets get it 1962 

- Okay let me press play and cry again  

 - Give Laura an award for everything - HER FACIAL EXPRESSIONS, HER ACTING, SHE’S SO AMAZING 

 - Ah damn I’m crying again 

- Sister J “I never stopped praying” omg💔 

- I’m so glad she told her first. 

- Why is Trudy’s mom a bitch? Wtf care about your daughter and grand kids? 

- SNARKY PHYLLIS

 - what’s this bs. 

- YOU DONT BLAME A VICTIM 

 - I HATE HER MOM 

- PHYLLIS BACK HER UP - 

 - Patrick is so empathetic and understanding because he legit was on the other side 

- “That means you can be healed" 

- YES YOU CAN BE HEALED 💕 

- If Patsy is in the next episode they should’ve just brought her problem with her dad for the next episode? Since this episode does seem jammed packed but it’s all good

 - PHYLLIS AGGRESSIVELY MAKING A COCKTAIL IS ME 

 - except I’m a poor university student so it’s no cocktail 

- Phyllis knows something’s up looking at Pats acting weird w/ Delia 

  - Patrick suggesting Northfield. That’s character growth 

 - GET SISTER U OUT OF HERE 

 - PHYLLIS HANGING UP THE PHONE TO SET PETER STRAIGHT REAL QUICK 

- Patsy and Delia having a cute moment. I think everyone wants a significant other like Delia? Like Patsy always shuts her out when something happens but Delia doesn’t leave

 - Does Patsy’s dad have Lou Gehrig’s disease or what’s it really called - oh ALS? 

- Here come the rest of the feels. Phyllis is amazing, Trudy is amazing. I just love this freaking show. Phyllis never judges and truly helps and I just need her to give me a hug and tell me it’ll be alright - I do like this part. Good for you Babs. Defy convention, it’s 1962. 

 - So much more diversity in the community centre I love it 💕 

- Can we get a Latino/Hispanic family story on here please Heidi

 - ANGELA IS SO CUTE AH 

- THEY’RE DRAWING YES 

- I’m so glad for Trudy 

 - THE PARALLEL 

 - "Patrick you gave me a note once..” *internally screaming* 

- I forgot Shelagh can draw 

 - “PLEASE WILL YOU BE MY DAD” AW MY HEARTTTT 

- but honestly though Patrick should’ve been freaking out with more excitement like it’s a legit miracle 

- MY BBYS ARE HAVING A BABY 

 - Doesn’t matter that was perfect for me, I love parallels it’s so cool 

 - PHYLLIS WAVING BYE AWW And Vanessa Redgrave’s outro And the end. Wow what an episode, ready for next week 

[dailyonionsite-blog]

A Straight Forward Approach to 7 Areas That Will Help You Lead a Better Life

As creatures of habit, we spend a lot of our time researching different ways to make our lives better. We search the internet, ask friends, or even read books relentlessly trying to find answers to a lot of questions that consume our minds every day. I am no different, I too have been guilty of these methods. In fact, I am exactly on my 10th year of a life’s changing journey. Some journeys take longer than others. Obstacles, life moments, and other circumstances sometimes jump in the way of progress if you’re not prepared for them. So, I have decided to compile 7 areas that you might be searching for; hopefully, it will provide some guidance in areas you might be dealing with.   Comfort: It was through my love for musicals that I came across my first quote. In the Greatest showman, Hugh Jackman gives us the most powerful line in the movie in his role as PT Barnum; "Comfort is the enemy of progress" (or Human Potential). This, of course, doesn't mean you shouldn’t be content, what it means is you should always be pushing to be a better version of you. You should never just sit back and accept your current state as is. There is always something new to work on, especially in the Top 3 (Mind, Body, and Soul). If you read Tim Tebow’s new book “This Is the Day,” he dedicates an entire chapter to this called “Put in the Work.” Tim Tebow states, “You need to put in the work and be willing to face the discomfort in order for you to grow.” For the last 10 years, this has been the primary area of my life. Focus. Through that journey, I realized that there is no elevator to success; you have to take the stairs.”   Faith (Cores/Values): This is huge and one that I have failed at myself. If you are a person of faith (Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, etc.), do not let others deviate you from what your core values and beliefs are. These are the values that have guided you most of your entire life. Stay strong to your convictions, and those who try to change your values, lack them. If you are allowing people to persuade your beliefs and value, then they were never strong enough, to begin with. There is nothing more disheartening than circumstantial faith.   Character: Your word is everything and is the true definition of your character. The very first words out of our mouths will be the first advertisement that people will use as a way to ascertain their future interactions with you. Breaking your word could or will, in some cases, have serious consequences. It will switch any relationship (Friendship, Loved ones, Co-Worker) from “Trusted” to “Questioned.” Be responsible for your commitments and your character. It is literally one of the few things in your life that you are fully in control of.   Health: Like that burger? How about a grilled chicken salad instead? Of course, I’m not saying you can’t eat the burger, what I'm saying is you have options. Just like in life, you have the ability to choose which side is healthier. If you are like me and struggle with weight, sometimes those options need to be limited. Learn to incorporate a healthy way of eating, activities, and spend more time walking around at the park or around the block than on your couch.   Travel: Nothing screams fun like traveling. Even the smallest of adventures could last for a lifetime. Experience a new place, restaurant, or even an entertainment event in your area. This might seem like impossible if you’re on a low budget, but it is not! There are great sources now to help you along the process. Websites such as cheapoair.com and justfly.com can help you find great prices on flights. AirBnB.com for all my travel stays; it is amazing the great locations and people you meet along the way. Traveling resets the clock in your mind. Knock down the 4 walls you stare at every day and replacing it with a fantastic view of the Colosseum.   The Night/Day’s: No, this is not about the sun and the stars; this is about people.  Yes, folks, we have one or more people who are detrimental to your progress. The types who are flipping the way they handle their lives and their emotions. No, this is not diversity, intriguing, exciting, or mysterious; it’s dangerous and chaotic. Not only are these people unstable, but you can see the results in their own lives in pure form. Tearing everything in their path, not just in their lives, but the lives of others, then they move on to the next day as if nothing happened and expect you to accept or deal with the damage that was done. They do it in many aspects of their lives. These people will literally demonize people, work, and circumstances at night, and after the damage has been done, they embrace these same people, work, and circumstances by day. Remember that everyone has an agenda, good or bad. Don't allow yourself to be a part of these hidden agendas and always be as mindful as possible so that you are not setting yourself up to fail. “Sometimes, playing stupid opens your eyes to the truth.” ― Anthony Liccione   The Past: The longest of the areas; of course, it affects everyone, in some way or another. We have a weird passion for reflecting on it. A lot of us have lost jobs, homes, relationships, and more. It affects us in every way, and some of these things still might cause great pain. There are three major stages in dealing with the past: Not excelling. The past is holding us back, and your inability to let go is keeping you from where you need to be. I can’t express enough how important it is for you to start a healing process by getting help to move forward in your progress. Excelling but in denial. We used the past to improve our way of life, but refusing to accept it. These folks moved on; We moved on, we excelled, we achieved things because of letting go of the past, yet we keep getting the urge to try and return to it. The answer is simple; DON’T. The reason you have achieved what you have is because you moved forward from it. I can personally empathize in this impulse as I too failed at it for a long time. Having the past consume you will reverse course emotionally, set you back and/or cause a disruption in the environment around you. As humans, it is our nature to be selfish. What we think is best based on feeling and emotions, may not be the best for our wellbeing and results. I can’t tell you how many folks/habits/impulses I have had to work on or get rid of. These people and behaviors were all an important part of my life for both motivation, growth, and a reminder of our biggest failures. That’s why it was so important to train myself to change them and stop reflecting on the past, it has completely changed my life around for the better, and it has provided healing, both in mind and life. Eat my dust! The final version of the person that has graduated from the grief, pain and/or drama. Take life by the horns. Let’s remember, yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not happened yet. So, focus on today. In the words of a great roman emporer, “What You do Today Echoes An Eternity – Marcus Aurelius.” Make your life count. What legacy will you leave behind? Every important decision that we make in life changes our outcome. Whether you are a parent, a worker, a spouse, etc... do something that will make a difference. Make a difference in someone else’s life. Every day, we should be working to improve who we are, to be the best version of ourselves that we can be. As humans, who we engage, who we surround ourselves with, the decisions we make, and what we put our focus on will determine our outcomes. Make them count! If there is anything you take from this article, let it be this; Sometimes, what we want isn’t what we need to reach our best version of ourselves. I am still working on a few aspects of these areas. The journey is long; it's painful, but it’s completely worth it. Read the full article

[girlonawireblog]

POODLICIOUS

In my mind, this odd little slice of my life runs on a loop:

I am dancing around the kitchen with a black and white miniature poodle. He dances on his hind legs, all people-like, and I sing various made-up songs. Like ‘Poodlicious’—to the tune of ‘Fergalicious,’ of course, with lyrics about how Kimba makes all the girl-dogs go loco.

That poodle goes wild. He chirps, and—I swear—he smiles.

The musical repertoire varied, but for a number of years, this scene was the norm as I put on the coffee and made breakfast each morning. I had somehow become a crazy little-dog lady, and my dances with Kimba put a smile on my own face even in the worst of times.

Our pairing was as unlikely as the bond we ultimately formed.

I grew up with large dogs: German Shepherds, Rottweilers, Newfoundlands. I had nothing against small dogs. I just tended to prefer the big, slobbery, heavily-shedding dogs I’d known all my life.

But because of my (now ex) husband’s allergies, those big, slobbery, heavily-shedding dogs weren’t an option. After some research, we ended up with first a Bichon Frise—Harry, who quickly chose my ex as his favorite human on earth—and Kimba, the miniature parti poodle who became my shadow.

Kimba arrived with a serious case of separation anxiety. Or maybe more accurately, everything anxiety. He was constantly between my feet. Noises and sudden movement sent him into a tailspin. He was so terrified in the car, he shook uncontrollably, frothing at the mouth until he looked like a tiny parti-poodle version of Cujo.

In a way, Kimba’s anxieties were a godsend for me. I was dealing with anxiety of my own, and working with Kimba on his issues proved to be therapy for both of us. We spent countless hours on training to alleviate his fears. In time, he learned to accept my comings and goings, and to so thoroughly enjoy car rides, I couldn’t pick up the keys without him going wild with excitement.

I’d say to him each day: Kimba, you are a brave, independent poodle. You are descended from wolves. Never forget that.

It started as a sort of joke. Who could look at a fluffy little poodle and do anything but marvel at the genetic acrobatics it had taken to create such a creature?

But Kimba took in the words with solemn understanding, and as I watched him grow braver and more adventurous, I wondered if maybe something wolf-like remains in the heart of even the smallest dogs.

Over the years, Kimba earned the nickname The Peace Poodle. He loved everyone he met: people, other dogs, cats, rabbits—you name it. Kids were his favorite. Heck, everyone and everything was his favorite. It was a joke that made it onto our Christmas card just a few weeks ago.

And sure, that level of enthusiasm for life is the hallmark of dogs as a species. One of the things I came to love about Kimba, though, was that he also had a quieter, more serious side.

He seemed downright introspective at times, and he often needed his space in a way that felt more cat-like than canine. He would snuggle up at bed time, but then disappear during the night, choosing to sleep solo on the sofa or in his dog bed by the fire.

Kimba also seemed to instinctively understand how to behave in various environments. He came with me on writing retreats, and was appropriately mellow.

(Well, with the exception of one chicken-chasing incident - which, I maintain, was entirely the fault of the chicken.)

When I was going through my divorce, I brought Kimba to some of my therapy sessions. The first time he came with me, Kimba stood on his hind legs to greet my therapist with a paw-shake. He gave the room a once-over, then hopped up onto the sofa and sat at attention, head tipped, waiting for the session to begin.

The therapist laughed, then said to me, “You do realize that’s not a dog you’ve got there, right? That is an old, old soul in a doggie suit.”

Indeed.

Daily, Kimba would hop onto my lap and I would smooth his ears back and tell him: You are sweetness and light in a poodle suit. Then he would hop back down and go about his business—most of which involved sharing that sweetness and light with the world.

My tendency to rescue animals with disabilities or provide hospice care for those at the end of their lives was something Kimba not only tolerated, but welcomed. He was a natural at being a calming influence. It was almost as if serving other animals was as soothing to Kimba as helping him with his anxiety had alleviated my own.

Only one dog was impervious to Kimba’s charm.

(A few chomps later, we decided Chopper was not best-placed with us.)

When Tiny Tim, the paralyzed Rottweiler, came home with us for his final hours, Kimba lay with me and Tim on the floor all night. He curled up on a pillow by Tiny Tim’s head—which was nearly as big as Kimba’s whole body—and every so often, he would touch his nose to Tim’s. I would hear Tim’s gentle exhale and know Kimba was working his Peace Poodle magic.

He brought so much joy to everyone he met, doing his silly poodle-dance or running in wild circles on the dog beach or tipping his nose at the sunroof and enjoying the wind in his ears on one of our many road trips.

He enthusiastically hiked trails everywhere from New England to California. He reveled in getting filthy, then stoically tolerated being washed in the sink or fully re-poodled at the groomer’s.

Kimba’s sudden passing the morning after Christmas is a thing that will haunt me forever. An open door, a moving car, and a moment’s inattention resulted in a terrible accident with an un-fixable outcome. It is small comfort to me that Kimba was in my arms as he passed.

My brave, independent poodle.

There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to have Kimba back with me. Those who have loved animals understand. They each hold a special place in your heart, yet with some there is just a deeper connection than with others.

Kimba was my little soul-poodle. There is an ache in his absence, and that weird wishful thinking that follows a death: clearly a mistake has been made, and if I can just appeal to the right god, all will be set right again.

As many friends have reminded me lately, the pain I feel right now is not for Kimba. Wherever Kimba is right now, in whatever form, he is not in pain. The sorrow I am experiencing is because his presence in my life was so great, his absence has left a tremendous void.

I used to joke that my primary relationship was with a 12-lb. poodle who loved to spoon.

No joke, really.

Now, as I write this, I have the tiniest dog imaginable at my side.

Mighty Little Max came to me and Kimba just a little over a year ago. His human had passed away and he was failing to thrive. Given his age and overall condition, the animal rescue was going to euthanize him. Kimba and I welcomed Max with the expectation that he might not have long to live.

Ha!

Max rallied big time, becoming Kimba’s enthusiastic little sidekick. I began referring to him as The Doglet Who Lived.

That Max is still here and Kimba is gone seems strangely ironic to me. But that’s how life goes, isn’t it? None of us knows how long we have. The biggest changes in our lives often come down to the smallest moments.

And yet.

Yet...

Mighty Little Max has kept close to my side since Kimba’s passing, and I’ve noticed something.

This 2.7 lb. scrap of a dog has picked up some of Kimba’s mannerisms. Kimba showed him the ropes, and I am certain Max is thriving today because of it. He comes to me each morning after breakfast. I ask him how his meal was, and he high-fives me, putting his tiny paw to my forefinger.

But now, I add: You are a brave, independent chihuahua. You are descended from wolves. Never forget that.

Mighty Little Max takes in the words with solemn understanding.

And somewhere deep within me, I know Kimba’s sweetness and light go on.

www.girlonawirekcw.com