Therapy

While many people pay the big bucks to go speak to a therapist to sort out their problems.  I tend to lean on a different type of therapy.

Meet my therapist.  Her name is Betty White.

(Source)

No, not that Betty White.  Although that would be pretty awesome!  She was a grief counselor when she played the character "Rose" from Golden Girls, so I'm sure she'd be qualified, but I digress.

My therapist is my bike.  Meet my bike, her name is Betty White. 

I've been wanting to get a road bike for years, and I was finally able to get one this year.  Nothing feels better than the freedom of riding a bike.  I used to ride a bike everywhere I went as a child and into my teen years.  Then I turned 16, and had no need for a bike, or so I thought.

I found as I rode my bike that if I was frustrated or mad about something, I usually worked it out in my head while I rode.  My husband always listens to headphones when he rides, but I found that by listening to the sounds around me, and listening to myself, that I was able to clear my mind of all the junk.

Now that it's winter and 20 degrees outside, I am missing my trusty therapist.  But come Spring, we'll have our 2-3 sessions per week, and all will be right with the world.  Until then I'll just watch some Golden Girls reruns and eat popcorn.

Life

Life is good
Life is sweet
Life is simple
Life is busy
Life is imperfect
It's the imperfections in life
That mold us into the people
That we are
But in spite of those imperfections
Life is complete.

Her Altered State

Her heart screamed inside her weak body
The fragile exigency of life had overcome her
Illusions of felicity blind her altered state
Seeking normalcy to replace this daze.
Trying to evade the questions
No one desires to have answered
Her life resembles a nova
The evanescence is no longer comprehensible
Struggling with the will to vanquish virtue
She continues to live her vapid life.

Dreaming

Dreams are a way to set one free
They can go anywhere
See all they can see
Living in a world of hope
Dreaming of a world with joy
Love and laughter they do employ.

My Prayer

Give me strength to live better today than I did yesterday.
Give me courage to stand for what is right.
Give me the freedom to choose my own path.
Give me hope for a better tomorrow.

Give me joy in this life and the next.
Give me love so that I can learn to love.
Give me warmth in times of cold.
Give me comfort in times of sorrow.

Give me respect for myself and others.
Give me faith in God and my Country.
Give me friends who will always be there.
Give me beauty in all things.

Give me forgiveness when I have done wrong.
Give me a family to love and care for.
Give me compassion for the less fortunate.
Give me the ability to see people for who they really are.

Give me knowledge, education and learning.
Give me patience to withstand all trials.
Give me the time to accomplish my goals.
I will not live in vain.

Autumn's Cycle

Leaves
Crunching, crackling under my feet
Falling, gliding with a rhythmic beat
Wind
Blowing, howling, whispering in the breeze
Coasting, sailing, caressing the trees
Coldness
Icy, wintry, frosty day
Chilling, freezing, longing to go away
Winter
Transforming, changing, waiting to extend -
The whiteness of our snowy friend.

At the End of the Tunnel

It's hard to see the finish line
At the start of a big race
It's hard to know if the path you've picked
Will be the right choice.
It's hard to have faith that things will work out
When everything stands in your way.
Just hold onto hope, and you will find
The light at the end of the tunnel.

What defines YOU?

So often people define themselves based on things that are more shallow in nature.  They base it on the clothes they wear, the car they drive, or their job.

In other cases people define themselves based on things that are unchangeable.  They base it on personal traits, such as eye color, as well as disabilities.

A few years ago I was suffering from infertility.  When you're struggling through something like that it's easy to use it to define yourself.  I was determined to not be defined by my infertility.  In fact, I rarely mentioned it to anyone.

What I found is that others used it to define me.

Everytime I was introduced to someone new, it seemed like I was always referred to as Infertile Katie (no one ever really called me that).  People seemed to focus so much on the fact that I wasn't able to get pregnant, that I began to feel like that was who I was.

So one day a I sat down and made a list of the things that define me.  I am so much more than my infertility.

I am -

• Creative
• A writer
• A friend
• A sister
• An aunt
• A wife
• A mother

Since the birth of my daughter 2 years ago, I've felt a little disconnected from who I was before she came into my life. Who am I exactly?  That is up to me.  No one else can define who I am for me.

Now go make your own list of who you are.  I guarantee that you will feel good about yourself because you will be focusing on the positives rather than the negatives.  Feel free to share your list!  I'd love to hear what defines you.

Listening

Listening is more than hearing
The words that are spoken
Listening is sensing things
That others can't see or hear
Listening is following your heart
When your mind tells you not to
By listening with your heart
Instead of your ears
You can hear the messages
That are hidden inside
The words that weren't spoken.

10 Years Later

Ten years ago I was 21 years old. I had been married for 9 months, and was unemployed. I remember being awakened by the phone around 7:15 am on the morning of 9/11/01. My brother Reid called to tell us to turn on the TV. The World Trade Center had just been hit by an airplane. At that time it wasn't known that this was a terrorist attack.

Ben and I jumped out of bed and turned on the TV. We watched in horror as we saw the flames engulfing the top of the 1st tower. The horror quickly grew as we watched a plane hit the 2nd tower. It didn't matter that we were thousands of miles away. The impact of the situation hit me as if I were there. I was glued to the TV. I watched as the towers fell, as people were running for their lives, and as people were desperately trying to save others. I remember the feeling of helplessness. I wished so badly that I could do something to help. I remember praying for the people of New York, and for our Nation. Even though I didn't personally know anyone there, I felt as though I lost loved ones that day.

I remember watching Katie Couric reporting on the Today Show. The scene of the planes hitting the building played out in the background. It was so surreal to watch. I couldn't believe what was happening. As the morning progressed, there was even more tragedy as another plane hit the Pentagon, and one believed to be headed for the Capitol, went down in a field in Pennsylvania.

My sister Kim had just returned from a trip to NYC, and had been at the World Trade Center exactly one week to the day before the events happened on September 11th. I was so grateful that she was not there that day.

As I reflected today on the events 10 years ago, my thoughts turned to those who lost their lives, to the heroes who gave their lives, and the families who still grieve those who were lost. I pray for them, and I pray for all of us.

We are the United States of America, and UNITED we STAND. I am proud to be an American.

I wrote the following poem today in memory of September 11, 2001: 


10 Years Later

10 years later
The horror
The magnitude
The fear that was instilled
Still remains

10 years later
The hope
The faith
The unity that became
Still remains

10 years later
Lives were lost
Heroes were made
The memories still remain

10 years later
I will never forget 9/11/01

Night Sky

The full moon rises over the mountaintop
Making it's way into the night sky
It illuminates everything within reach
Casting shadows into the unknown
It plays peek-a-boo with the stars
As it hides behind drifting clouds.

Words to Live By

A few weeks ago I met up with a group of ladies for frozen yogurt. We were having a good time chatting when I casually mentioned that my friend couldn't make it. One of the women there decided that my mentioning this friend meant that the conversation was open to continue talking about her. She told everyone about how my friend isn't good at her job and that her managers don't want to give her very many clients because she just doesn't know what she is doing.

I was speechless. Here we were out trying to have a fun time when Miss Gossip-pants decided to ruin the party. I wish I would have said something right then and there to discredit this woman, but I just kept my mouth shut. I can only hope that the other women there considered the source, and didn't take what she said to heart.

As I pondered this conversation I came up with a saying that I think is the perfect words to live by. I'm not perfect by any means. But I'm working hard at trying to live by these 3 simple phrases:

Is it true?
Is it uplifting?
Is it kind?

1. Is it true?
The answer to this question could be yes, but that doesn't mean that it should be repeated.

2. Is it uplifting?
Will it encourage, comfort, or strengthen someone?

3. Is it kind?
If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.


My advise to you is to stop and think before you speak. If you are going to talk about someone, double check to make sure it is true, uplifting, and kind.

Whispering Dreams

Whispering to the beat of rain
on a cool summer day
Dreams of beauty lying together
with visions of love
As though life is the storm -
and love the flood.

Conquer

Each of us has secrets
That we don't dare to share
Each of us has affliction
That haunts us and ensnares
We are only human
Trying to do the best we can
To focus on the positive
By bringing happiness to life
Don't just follow the path
Forge a new trail
Build a new bridge
And conquer our trials at last.

True Poets

The following excerpt is from a novel by Frank Delaney called Ireland:

"Nobody can actually write a poem. There's no such act as writing a poem. That's not how poems are made. Oh, yes, there's the physical business of a pen, ink, and paper - but that isn't whence the poem comes. Nor may you send out and fetch a poem from where it's been living. No, like it or not, you have to wait for a poem to arrive.

The people we call "poets," by which I mean true, real poets - they're merely very keen listeners who've learned to recognize when a poem is dropping by..... The thing about true poets is - they never have to wait. Some say they are born lucky. They long to eat a hazelnut, and next thing a man walks past their front door with a bag of nuts and he offers him one.... Poets are like that with poems. No sooner do they listen out than a poem swoops down, whispers something to the top of their heads, and they feel it flowing down into their brain, down along their arms, into their fingers and out onto the page in black letters.

And poets are like angels. They visit often, but you've got to be watching out for them, and you've to believe in them to benefit from their gifts."

Now ask yourself, are you a true poet? I like to think that I am. Sometimes a thought will pop into my head, and I just start writing until I have a poem. Some poems take only a few minutes to write. Others take hours, days, weeks, months, and even years. But I keep a notebook of all of these thoughts, and periodically look over them until the poem comes together just right.

Poetry Schmoetry Blogfest

I have been writing poetry since I was 12 years old. I love to use poetry to express my feelings, emotions, and thoughts on life. I've been mulling over what poem to submit, and even sought advice from a poetry writing friend, and have decided to submit the following poem that I wrote when I was 17 years old:

The Stranger
Walking aimlessly through the crowd,
One has to wonder:
Who is that stranger that is left alone?
What is he doing so far from home?
Without a purpose
Without a place
The stranger aimlessly walks away
Off in the distance he disappears
One has to wonder:
What was he doing here?

Trying to Remember

Sitting in my bedroom
Trying to remember -
Kindness, laughter
Sharing of thoughts
Listening, caring, loving -
Wondering what was becoming.
Sitting in my bedroom
Trying to remember -
Our friendship
Bearing a special place
Deep within my heart
Always there -
Never to depart
Sitting in my bedroom
Trying to remember -
Long nights together
Wanting to go on
Seemed to last forever
But too soon were gone.
Sitting in my bedroom
Trying to remember -
What we shared
The happy times
Longing to be together
Sitting in my bedroom
Trying to remember -
Why it ended
What went wrong
How could something so good
Suddenly be gone?
Sitting in my bedroom
Trying to remember.

Believe

Believing in something
Means having hope
That your dreams will come true

Believing in something
Means never giving up
Even when it seems the world has given up on you

Believing in something
Means sacrificing everything
To have what is most important

Believing in something
Means losing yourself
In order to find happiness

By believing that all things are possible
Through faith, hope and love -
Our trials can be conquered
And our dreams will come true.