the pen is mightier than the sword... or the gun...

I have often wondered why certain individuals own weapons. It would take a very contained, controlled person to have a weapon and not use it in a volatile situation. That is why I do not own a gun... will never have a gun in my possession. There is fight... and flight... there are sticks and stones.... and then there is the fire from within. Anger, passion... fear... no I recognized in myself a long time ago I am one whom should never have a gun around... both for my own sake... and for those that may violate me.

But this is not about a gun... not about a knife... this is about my "pen"; my words. I have always been an introvert. I process... I analyze... I internalize... that doesn't mean I cannot become animated. It takes a lot to get me to that point. The point of no return, where words make no sense... memories flash as if reminding me why I am the way I am... My remedy since 2009 has been to self medicate with food... alcohol... instant replays over and over again... the loop I cannot escape... until it snaps. Then the silence... the calm... no waves... only water so still I am able to see my own reflection as clear as if I were looking at my doppelganger. I have often wondered; does she see me in the same way...

"Vunerability is about trust, intimacy and connection... we share with people who have earned the right to hear the story" - Brene' Brown

After a real tough week... one that brought me to my knees... I have come to realize the truth of Albert Einstein's definition of insanity, "doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."

... What is the definition of crazy? I look in the mirror... oh... there you are... again.... my reflection.... perhaps in an alernate universe she is having a better go of it... healthier... happier... wiser... I wonder if she thinks the same of me.... I also realize it has not been so crazy for me to try... my intentions set. my right or good intentions... set... my hope had been to realize through right action.... that my karma could be cleared. Yet, I have finally surrendered to the thought that things will ever be different. 

When I was young I thought if I could just be better... get better grades.. only speak when spoken to... it would deminish the often times pointed out diferences between me and other children. As I grew older I thought if I could only just be more perfect... I would be allowed to function at the dinner table and not be relagated to my bedroom... because at 13... I was much too old... my mother's suitors would somehow know how much older she was... than how much she was pretending to be. I would sit in my room quietly... writing my poems... editing my prose... drawing the intricate blueprints of the home I would one day build... far away from Arvada... far away from the isolation of that young girl alone with her thoughts... her words... her works of art.

I loved my isolation... I lived in my head... even when I was 5... in kindergarden I remembered living within my thoughts...  as one may write out plays... or books... the people I allowed in were ones I trusted... and they were usually only in my head. I learned how to become guarded from uncertainty. Trust was never forged by words... it was too easy to say one loved in the presence of others... only to experience actions so contrary in private. No, I would trust actions. Striking... physical violence cannot be undone. Sexual inappropriateness is never ok between a child and an adult. And just like rape is an expression of power, so is any infraction with a child.  Words unleashed in a fit of rage, drunkenness or passive agressiveness were too easily dismissed as unfortunate... yet they stung as if repeated slaps accross the face... or as I felt them... knives in my back. And the silence that comes with sexual abuse of a child can never be understood in terms of how it shatters one's Soul. 

At 16 I left home... determined to isolate the past. In my long term goal I wanted to become a lawyer... an advocate for children. In the mean time I had plotted out my path... a double degree in psychology and criminal justice... then to law school. Unfortunately six months prior to completion of my studies... I let my guard down and was raped. Even in the people who purport to be adovates for children... there is a darkness where power seeks out the weak. I learned the hard way. 


The more I tried... the more fragile I have become... the more armor I surrounded myself with... when I was younger my experiences lent me to believe in no do-overs... no second chances... if there were a fracture... I was done with it... relationships came and went... then as I aged... I thought I could make ammends.... be a better person if only I tried... again.... to be more perfect... became more understanding.... more giving a better listener... take responsibility for my sins... achnowledge when i missed the mark.... and in the jumbled nureons that make up the errant brain activity bouncing in my head.... I have finally realized that in order for me to contain my own sanity... in order for me to de-armor... it is ok to let go.... to move beyond... release.... it is like a death.... that has not entirely played out yet... and i have felt a release and freedom.... a lifting... a peace over comes me (peace be with you... and also with you - echos in my mind rom past services at catholic churches.)... as I realize I am.. no longer bound... I am the one that thought I was tethered,,, perhaps true freedom came when I was able to realize... I could release myself.

yes, I can be recognized by those I trust ... to be who I am.... what a  gift to know there are those in this world who see me for who I am... not who you think I should be ... I had almost disappeared ... within the confines of self doubt. Perhaps... tomorrow is another day... to day to begin again.... as I release myself from my own karmic restraints.... throw light on the shadows that dance off the walls of my Soul... and lift myself up off the ground.... it is not too late....

What does it mean to CowGirl Up?

I sit here today, Sunday, September 15, 2013... it is raining again... I would seem to be on an island where, in some ways, I have not been affected by the "hundred or as some are now calling it, the five hundred year floods" across the front range of Colorado and the Denver metro area. The flooding first began in Manitou Springs in southern Colorado earlier this summer. I nearly missed being swept away by flooding July 10th on hwy 24 while on my way to visit Cripple Creek and Victor Colorado where my grandma's family is from... as I made my way back home... I saw the devastation... to homes, businesses... people's lives. Some lost their ;lives. Flash floods are dangerous, unforgiving..... one can try to contain a wildfire with water,,,  little can be done to stop the force of water.

Monsoon season is usually in July and August. So  far in the month of September areas across the front range have endured more rain than we get in a year... too much... to fast... the ground is saturated and has nowhere to go... the water carves out it's own path... through homes, businesses... washes out roads... covers and isolates towns. Boulder, Loveland, Estes Park, Lions are only a few of the affected communities. Two women from Maine are stranded on the top of Long's Peak. They were at least prepared, but due to an ice storm and torrential rain were stuck. They were able to get out a text message of their location and situation. I am certain they had no idea of the disaster occurring in towns and communities they passed to make their way up one of Colorado's 14,000 foot peaks. After spending two days trapped... and no rescue (not that plans of a rescue where being made to enact) they where able to hike down to the trailhead and evacuated out from that point.

To me, those two women are the definition of "Cowgirl Up".  The urban dictionary defines cowgirl up as, "Be your own woman, make your own path, and take responsibility for who you are and what you do." The front range of Colorado from Manitou Springs to Fort Collins, Evergreen, east to Evans and Greeley, are being tested by mother nature. I learned along time ago that nothing ever stays the same... nothing. Our lives will be subjected to change from the time we are born until the time we die. Some changes will be celebrated; many will be mundane day to day changes; a few will be life altering.

I hope when my time to depart this Earth comes, I will look back and say to myself, "I cowgirl up-ed!"

For now, I am on my island... metaphorically speaking. Like the song echos in my mind from Simon and Gurfunkle, "I am a rock.... I am an island... and a rock feels no pain... and an island never cries."

For now I remain on my island. And unlike others who have Cowgirl Upped, I am doing what I need at this time to survive. I am taking control of my situation... making my path... taking responsibility for who I am... and what I do.... or don't do...