Tag Archives: thoughts

Celebrating 60: Lessons Learned and Moving Forward

This should’ve been a blog post first.

I turned 60 yesterday, and as I do every year, I found it a good occasion to post something on social media about turning a new age and thank my wonderful friends and family for all of their well wishes. But this one turned into what really should have been a blog post! So, since it is my own blog and I can make my own rules — better late than never, and now not so original… Here it is and I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you for all the wonderful birthday messages that came in every way imaginable, phone calls, and gifts. When I tell you that they were uplifting, I want you to know that it wasn’t just for the sake of this post. Truly, you all made me feel so special and cared about. Some of you had me in stitches and others had me in tears.

My birthday hasn’t been the same since my grandmother passed away several years ago. Our birthdays are a day apart and it was always a fun thing. I don’t know why after this many years it still feels off, but it does. One day, I know that I will be able to see and feel it differently. For now, it just is what it is.

Another thing that occurred to me… When I turned 30, 40, and 50, I remember thinking and saying that it would be great if I got another 30, 40, and 50. But this year turning 60, well… that was a different kind of feeling. But you all definitely helped make it feel really special!

I usually write something out right before or right after a birthday, and especially when I am lucky enough to begin a new decade, such as 60. I believe I even stated that I was going to do 60 quotes in 60 days. I did them, but I am not going to share a lot of them. Some of them were too personal, and some were just too angry and hurt. What a lot of people do at New Year’s is what I do at my birthdays. I take stock and inventory, lay out what I think are some great ideas for the coming year, and feel like I can allow myself a fresh start. I usually blow over New Year’s because there’s too much candy. 😂😂😂 So this year I’m just going to be ok with where I am, still in the inquiry of where I’m standing and what I’m supposed to do next.

In addition to leaving my job and my church, I emotionally released more family, announced to some others that I would no longer tolerate certain behaviors, purposely chose to step off of other committees that I was on to allow myself breathing room, and felt that with such a heavy heart I was not giving the love and attention that those really deserved… AND the love and attention I deserved as well.

Fifty-nine was a really hard year and felt extra long. With that said, I don’t know that I would change much if I could go back. (Well, perhaps I WOULD wish to change the five friends passing away.) My health has not been the best, and that has been a struggle for a very long time, but this past year has seemed extra hard. I don’t even know what else to say about this except that I am looking forward to getting into a few studies. Crossing fingers and praying for the desired outcome here.

Sometimes we have to do things for our own well-being and it just feels so hard. So we drag our feet. I think it’s the part that makes us put off self-care — in the many ways that self-care can manifest. We don’t want to leave; we don’t want to upset people; we don’t want to lose a routine; we’re afraid we’ll miss out; we’re afraid we won’t be part of a community we are accustomed to, etc. I’m sure some of you have been there and can even add on to that. But sometimes, some things are so loudly ringing in your head and heart that something is wrong, that eventually you can’t ignore any longer what you see and hear so plainly. It’s hard when other people don’t see, don’t want to see it, or pretend not to see it. You’re seeing Mothra destroying a community and can’t understand why all they can see is a bluebird flitting about whistling a sweet tune.

I’m sure now that I have resolved to turn the page on that year, more will be revealed to me in my patience and prayer. I can say that I’ve learned a few things about myself, some worthy of repeating and others that probably need a good buffing and shine.

Times like this, as a saying goes, will show you who your friends are, and who you can count on. It will show you the ones who make your choices something personal for them instead of checking to make sure that you are okay. That sounds like a dagger, I know. It’s not. I’ve done the same thing. Sometimes choices for ourselves at first feel like a lose-lose, and some will make your personal choices mean something about them. But all will be revealed in time, usually after some fallout has made a clearing.

Some people will make light of your situations, having not been in shoes like yours, or as a way to assuage their own consciences. Forgive them. Not everyone has the strength or maybe the clarity. They either can’t know or they simply have a different agenda. And that has to be okay. Different shoes, different shoes….

Stepping away from things that are unhealthy, be it habits, food, people, relationships, communities, family, etc., is like moving to a new neighborhood, only it’s in your mind, which is worse: Where are my people? Who are these people? I don’t know where to find anything. Why is nothing where I left it? I wish I knew the secret back ways out of here. Why did I accidentally drive here by habit? I need to pay attention. This is stupid. Seriously, did God see that shit? Is God still here? I’m hungry. I’m lonely. I miss my friends. I miss cupcakes. I hate kale. I’m sick to death of oatmeal! I hate meeting new people. I’m not even sure what I know now or what I ever knew. Maybe I should go back. I don’t want to walk in there alone. Nope, I’m going to walk in like I own the place. Why do my legs feel so stiff? Why is everyone around me acting like everything’s okay?  I don’t want to get out of bed. I can’t sleep. I can’t think. I can’t stop thinking. Where do I belong? Oh, so this is depression?? This is some bullshit.

And it is… all of it is bullshit. Your real friends are right where you left them; in fact, I’ll bet you find new friends in the ones that were already there. But you have to make the effort. Some will happen organically, and others you will have to put forth more effort. You will lose some. It’s just the way it is. Don’t fight it. Just walk away with your feelings and let them have theirs. Some people will walk with you, some will stay anchored where they are, and others will walk a completely different direction. Sometimes, there’s really nothing to say, and probably shouldn’t be changed anyway.

Release family that is toxic. Family really isn’t “everything” when they are toxic. There is absolutely not one single reason to keep someone around who treats you poorly and is hurtful. ZERO. I recall a time several years ago where I wrote out some of my feelings. They were from my heart and well thought out. A family member lashed out at me for them, saying something along the lines of she was “sorry” she couldn’t write as eloquent as me and then went on to heavily insult me with barbs that had nothing to do with my post. This is an example of things that shouldn’t be tolerated, and also an example of how sometimes when you show up authentically, your light will hurt other people’s eyes who live in the dark instead of the truth of who they are and can be. Their insults and lashing out are an attempt to squash you and make you feel wrong for being so free. Do not let them!

God is still here. You were probably looking outside of yourself forgetting that God is in you and everywhere. Sometimes we think God isn’t giving us a sign, but what’s really going on is that we aren’t playing an active role in what we talked to God about. God is like, “Well, here we are walking together once again and you are doing nothing besides talking to me and walking in the same direction you were when we began this conversation.”

So for all appearances, I haven’t budged much from a year ago, and it may seem like I have not figured much out but for a few platitudinal instances. But just like an iceberg, more is underneath. I am one step away from where I was. The view is changing. More things are revealed as time moves on. I have no doubts that choices I made were mostly correct. The sting has lessened. The spinning will stop and I will find my steady feet again and be off in a direction that (wait for it)…

… looks more like love than expectation.
And dammit, isn’t that just the whole point? 💣🤯

Thanks for coming to my DEB Talk that probably should have been a blog post. 😂🤷🏻‍♀️ Thank you again for remembering me on my birthday, thank you to those who have always stood by me even when I’m difficult (Yes, I know I can be.), and thank you for the true love and kindness. Cheers to the last 59, and cruising from 60 and beyond!

If you are so inclined to reading scriptures, Luke chapter 8 has been really helpful, with an emphasis on verse 17: For nothing is hidden that will not be disclosed, nor is anything secret that will not become known and come to light.

AI generated photo from my prompt: STARS IN MY HAND

Together. Apart.

Impressions

Walking & Thinking #8

What’s in a name?
That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.
Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare

So, what IS in a name?

Some people don’t like their own given name, and sometimes we don’t like someone else’s name. Sometimes we are in wonderment at how someone might have arrived at a particular name, or notice that a name has a funny ring to it, or sounds like it might be from another language than our own, etc.  I remember disliking my name when I was young. I much preferred nicknames to my own given name when I was a teenager. That changed as I grew into an adult, but not necessarily for the reasons this post is about… until now.

Our family has another grandbaby on the way — our third. So it’s an exciting time! I was teasing the kids about naming the baby after me — even if it was a boy — or combining mine and mother’s names — DeboRosa. Yeah, I know how it sounds. My former husband says it sounds too much like “ambrosia,” which I still feel qualifies it for the possibility list. (I’m seriously just kidding.)

When I was out for my walk the other day, I was chuckling to myself about that conversation. Then I started thinking about our children’s names. All three boys are named after beloved family members who are not only loved, but strong in character. The lone girl’s name was chosen because it sounded pretty (and it is — almost as pretty as her). Our first granddaughter is named the same way, and our first grandson is named after his father and has a middle name with a very special meaning in Spanish. Anyway, that’s the context for this post.

As I and my thoughts meandered around the neighborhood, it occurred to me just how much I love our kids’ names, and how much they mean to me. I started thinking about the things I mentioned above about my own name, about times when I couldn’t imagine why someone would name a child “that,” or when I heard someone making fun of a name because it sounded “foreign.” I know people who have changed their names because they didn’t like them, and others because the name they were given at birth did not match their gender identity. I know some who have changed their names because they wanted a more American-sounding name. (That makes me sad for a few reasons.) I also recalled some people whose names make me personally feel a particular way — upset, angry, sad, fearful, anxious. And there are still others when I hear them, I feel joy, love, warmth, happiness. But I couldn’t recall ever hearing a parent say that they regretted giving a particular name to their child/ren.

I worked in various positions in healthcare, primarily women’s health for many years. Names were important, and spellings of those names were extremely important. I used to keep a list in my drawer of the peculiar or unusual ones. Some seemed thoughtful, but others still have me scratching my head to this day. Nonetheless, someone cared about those names enough and whatever was behind them to dole them out to a most precious gift.

How do people respond to your name? How do they feel when they hear it? How do you feel about your own name? How will you hear names after this?

When your parent/s gave you your name, it sounded like love in their soul, like music to their ears, a song etched in their heart, or a sweet memory worthy of sharing. It meant something to the person that thoughtfully gave you your name, and they heard something in it, knew someting about it no one else could hear, see, or feel quite the same.

My name 🙂

Aunties, Uncles, Safe Harbor

It’s just the way I grew up, and I thought everybody had this, and I still think everybody should. Be good to your people. It’s just a thought for the holidays.

Growing up, my aunties and uncles were safe harbor.
Sometimes kids need a safe harbor that isn’t a parent.
Everyone benefits.

Happy all of it from my home to yours.

Scouting Gun Control Issues

So I wrote the post (pictured above) after news of a mass shooting in Boulder, Colorado. This is on the heels of a mass shooting in Georgia. I wrote it right before I went to bed, and I was feeling just done with the madness. Well, if you are a thinker or a writer, as usually happens, once I laid down in the quiet, the thoughts flooded in.

A little more on this….

Everything I said in that post is 100 percent how I feel. They’re my thoughts. My wish is that I knew what to do about it, knew how to effect actual, lasting change, but my belief is that it’s not a gun problem, but a heart and soul condition. (Shameless plug: I think I have a blog post about that somewhere.) I used to think that we just need to ban every single kind of firearm, but my thoughts on that have slowly, continually evolved. I still wish we lived in a world where they didn’t exist, never existed at all, but I can wish that until the cows come home and it won’t change a single thing. So….

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Learn better; do better. Thoughts evolve, and that’s okay.

My thoughts on gun control are evolving as over the years I have come to understand and see how these types of laws can affect communities that aren’t White, and communities that sit in the lower income brackets. This is true of so many of our laws and beliefs. I believe in our 2nd Amendment as I understand it (not in the fear-based, bastardized version so many self-appointed “patriots” vomit out), but I don’t believe just anyone deserves to own a firearm either. So what are the correct parameters? I doubt we’ll ever find agreement on this either.

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The Black Panthers showed up and we clutched our pearls.

Remember that time in 1967 when the Black Panthers showed up on the steps of the California State Capitol and then-Governor Reagan (R) and his NRA cronies decided we needed gun control laws right away? Well, I don’t remember because I was barely 3 years old, but it’s not hard information to find. But yes, the NRA wanted gun control laws after that incident! (If you never stopped to wonder “why,” here’s your chance.) What I do vividly remember many times is White men and women parading, storming, and protesting at various state capitol buildings, other federal buildings and lands armed to the freaking gills. What I also remember about those incidents is the government, the twisted NRA, and many so-called patriots saying NOTHING and doing NOTHING about it. Essentially, what I’ve seen is blatant inequality, and the silence I hear is actually an action, a stand.

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Well now, that’s a problem.

So there I was with a pretty strong thought about guns and owners, heels dug in, rock solid sentiments. The problem is it centers my own personal fears and knee-jerk reactions rather than the whole picture. It leaves out the welfare of a whole lot of people. Is this the crossroads or a complete shift? I guess I’m not totally sure yet, but I know it is different, and I know that if my thoughts or actions contribute to hurting another group through inequality or inequity, then that’s a clue that some shift needs to happen. It’s a clue tapping at me letting me know that something is unbalanced, unfair, and requires more thought. I have always chosen to be a scout rather than a follower — someone who continually seeks out a higher consciousness and willing to change direction when or where I see I can do better. I’m not afraid to find out I’m wrong. I’m not afraid to change. I’m not afraid to realize my thoughts may have been imitated without thought and it’s okay to change direction. All of that might piss off some folks, but that isn’t always what’s most important. So I adjust, transform, or switch directions.

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So here I am with little direction, nagging thoughts, armed with a scout mentality.

I’m going to stay in this inquiry until I have a solid direction. It’s important to me that the footprint I leave on others isn’t one on their backs. It’s important to me that my activism supports our Black and Brown communities in equality. It’s important to me to self-examine regularly and make sure I’m in alignment with what I say I want in the world, and that I’m not aligned out of fear. I’m going to have a conversation with a friend of mine whose ideas have also changed around gun ownership, whose ideas were much like mine and have also evolved quite a bit over the past year or so. I was invited to go to a shooting range event by that friend, and my husband and I are going to attend. I’m looking forward to it. I’ve never shot a gun in my life, and they’ve always scared me. I have no clue what I might learn, who I might get to talk to, but I’m open to it all because personal evolution is calling. I’ll blog about my experiences and thoughts.

Always choose to be a scout.

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Revolution won’t happen without evolution, revelations, and reevaluation.
Debora Lynn Garcia

👉 Me, Myself, and I 👈

Good, bad, or indifferent, I’m the common denominator in every event and circumstance in my life. If I get to take credit for the celebration and praise-worthy instances, I must also take responsibility and credit for the lackluster and substandard occasions as well.

The way in was me, and so it is for the way out. If I want more, then I stay the course. If I want change, like everything else, that movement begins with me as well.

Simply because I’m human and share the planet, life sends me surprises. I may not be responsible for that, but I am still at the center of the space created from my own response.

A Day In the Life of a Sensitive Soul

Sensitive soul
Seized by ugliness
Surrounded by meanness
Hemmed in by damage
I absorb it all down through my soul
My cells weakened by it all
My soul can’t take another hit
I wonder why I am so sensitive
Why I attract damaged souls
Irrationality finds me under every glimmer
Why can’t I be Teflon

My soul craves peace, but it eludes me at every turn
Teases me at every corner
Calls out to me behind every door
Blows by the window
Wafts by my face
Flits about my nose
Taps me on my head
Brushes against me
Before it whisks away, never to stay

Too hurt to reach out anymore
Too tired of being turned upon
Too unsure of what to do next
Too bewildered by misunderstanding
Longing for days that won’t come back
Regretting choices that can’t be turned around
Betrayed by promises never fulfilled
Saddened by bottomless circumstances
Disillusioned by treacherous souls
Weary from forcing smiles
I dream of days of do-overs

It all affects me
Family, friends, health, the news, the world
I am paralyzed today
Unable to move
Laden with the weight of it all
Absorbed by my super soft cells
Like an infinite sponge
Incapable of wringing it away
Disabled by my thoughts

Knowing how some that call me love would see this
Only stumbles me more
Shoves me down further
Smothers me like a sack
At once stirs up fiery anger
And echoing sadness in a mix
That anchors me in my hole
Filled up with my own slippery thoughts
They don’t understand
And see me with eyes that lack empathy
I don’t need sympathy
But I know it’s a rare gem that feels it, too

And now the clock is speeding up
I have but hours to climb up
To fix my face, my home, my meals
To adjust my thoughts, finish my tasks
To find my smile and practice my laugh
Before my time is no longer mine alone
Because the day is more important
Because the few who rely on me mean more
At least that is what I tell myself, but really
Because only sensitive souls are supposed to know

                       by Debora Lynn Garcia