… and our group of 25 outstanding students and 15 adults representing John Paul II Catholic High School on an epic Spring Break excursion!
Although I am no longer a practicing Catholic, I am a major fan of Jesus and His Father (the only two beings I have ever or will ever idolize). Even still, this adventure with the Mona Lisa was exceptionally moving for me, in that every one of the “signs” I’d asked for before taking off from Dallas were found here on this journey. As such, I have made some fairly serious life decisions that are going to change everything for me going forward, which changes are sure to avail themselves over the course of time here in The Diary.
No, I do not know why. God Himself know I don’t deserve any of this. Here I am, though, still rocking my favorite daughter gig, because for some reason He continually showers me with me all the power and grace I can possibly handle, even despite myself and my retched ways. Every widowed mom should be so lucky.
For the record, although although we did take a few pictures, for the most part we stayed immersed living IN all the moments rather than watching them from behind a lens.
On a beautiful Wednesday afternoon exactly one year ago today, “the music wheel of destiny” stopped my world, and my heart, and sent me straight into the breakdown lane of one of the busiest highways in Dallas so that I could literally “cry my eyes out”. It was as if Zack were singing this beautifully haunting melody to me, my daughter, and my son in a message from “The Brighter Side Of Grey“, where in our hearts we know he finally is. If you haven’t ever heard this song, I cannot urge you enough to listen to it, especially if you are at odds with yourself over the legacy you are going to be leaving behind for your own children and loved ones.
So, with that, Happy THREE YEAR Grey-Aversary to me and anyone else who’s riding this beautiful “grey high” train with me to the brighter side of everything you’re painting your legacy with! If you, like many of us, are grieving the loss of someone who you loved … WAIT! NO! … someone who you still love, no matter how long ago it has been, do me a favor and SAY THEIR NAME today!
And remember …
“Death Is NOTHING At All“. I mean, does it HURT that they aren’t still physically “here” with us? HELLO? Of course it does! All of this grief we share is our infinite and unexpressed love for them. They are still here, though … just slipped into the next room … watching, listening, and absorbing all of thisthrough their telescopes. When we say their names, they can hear us, I promise, promise, PROMISE! In the meantime, just keep it GREY today, and don’t forget to listen to our song …
Don’t get me wrong, folks. I don’t do things for anyone from a selfish place. The altruistic soul my skin adorns refuses to give of myself for personal gain. I do what I do for the people in my halo (and sometimes even strangers) from a place of unbridled love and passion for pebble-skipping and wave-making, regardless of whether I’ll ever see the tsunami of fruit from the gifts of my heart and hands. I truly don’t need to be “seen, heard, or appreciated”. It literally sets my soul on fire to at least try to make all the people, places, and things I’ve touched better than I found them, and that feeling is reward enough for me … BUT … I’m not gonna lie, folks … I don’t hate it, either!
With that, I am blasted right back to the past to one of my favorite “oldies but goodies”, Circa 1999, which I am now blasting back out to my babies, my God, and even myself:
Hey, look at me, living life for you. When it’s good. When it’s hard. You know me. You know my heart. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I give up anything at all when You call. All I know … it’s worth it all!
Make it a powerful Monday, friends! If there’s someone in YOUR life whose works and deeds have made it better, but perhaps you haven’t told them yet, SAY THE WORDS that tell them.
That being said, not a day in my life has passed in the 26 years that I’ve had a relationship with Jesus that I don’t mentally picture Him “weeping”. It’s the one image of Him that I hold the very tightest, and yes, I actually “hold” that mental picture of Him weeping near to my heart and “feel” the actual idea of Jesus weeping. He weeps for me. He weeps for you. He weeps for all of this jacked up FUCKING bullshit that He’s watching go down as time passes by and the division in humanity becomes its demise, and WOW, look at me, I just cursed again!
I’m not gonna lie, folks, there’s been a lot of dark and toxic “stuff” hanging in the balance over not necessarily my own head, but the heads of my beautiful children. My one and only son is fighting a domestic and internal war against an enemy that is all but devouring him, which “enemy” is one of the very few people he’s loved, trusted, and had unyielding and completely blind faith in all the days of his life. Meanwhile, as his mother, all I can do is just sit back and watch as he is metaphorically dangling over a muddied swamp with just one beast in it. It’s a hopeless, torturous, and abysmal feeling, because unless and until he can find the strength and courage to finally walk away from that beast once and for all, there is nothing I can do to help him. So, today, amid the carnage and fallout from a battlefield I am literally helpless on, all I could manage to do is feel like weeping. So, guess what?
I LET MYSELF!
Weeping is one of the things that makes me a human being and not the monster this world full of Satan’s minions wants to turn me into. If you’ve been around this Diary long enough by now, you know that I have a song for every entry, but that some songs have made an appearance more than once:
By the way, it’s okay to feel sadness and grief for the things that have died inside of you, and it’s certainly okay to cry. Now that I think of it, it’s such a blessing that one of my favorite verses in the Bible also happens to be the shortest: JOHN 11:35: Jesus wept. CRY AS OFTEN AS YOU NEED TO! Get mad! Scream out loud! Do whatever you must to let yourself feel everything that has hurt you so you can finally let it go!
The music loving world received a profound gift in the form of one of the most powerful songs of my own life 16 years ago this day, and now I’m about to hit my knees and thank GOD that He ever gave this offering to me in the first place. If weeping was good enough for His Son, then weeping is good enough for me. I’d be hard-pressed to forget that there are some people in this world who either can’t or simply won’t allow themselves the utmost privilege and honor of “weeping”, because:
I’m so afraid of the gift You gave me.
So many people are afraid to just let all those tears go for fear that once they start they’ll never stop. For those people, I will pray tonight. Everyone should be so lucky as to own the ability to allow themselves to weep and wail when they need to. Sometimes the only way to ensure that the literal storm of tears that is brewing in your heart and soul “will ever stop” is to release them! They’ll stop when they’ve done their job, then start again when they need to get back to work. Goodnight everyone!
One hasn’t lived until they’ve seen a man who they thought was a tower of steel on the verge of tears after what was probably their last “Daddy/Daughter Dance” until her wedding day. How did this all go so wrong? Please allow me to be a blubbering mess for the remainder of this night, and (PS), grief SUCKS and mental illness can burn in actual HELL!
With that, perhaps we should consider “the words” to a song that may be an oldie, but it’s still a damn goodie, that I listen to all the time:
Silence is golden but these are the words that the world needs to hear. Terms of compassion will cause a reaction as love drives them near. But still we choose to hide behind the face of pride, pretending we are blind to the calling. This is my point and case, if hate can be erased with such a simple phrase, why are we stalling?
Some just assume we already know of the love that they feel. Some have a heartfelt emotion, but never the words to reveal. I think we all relate, so why are we afraid to let our hearts convey what we’re feeling? There is a world in need with hungry souls to feed, and love can intercede if we’re willing.
So, say the words, say the words, say “I love you”. Say the words I long to hear. Say the words, say the words, say “I love you”. Say the words I long to hear. Ya gotta say it. Ya gotta say it. SAY IT!
{DC Talk}
By the way, “saying the words” doesn’t just apply to romantic partners. It means speaking words of love, kindness, and caring that your children and even friends or strangers may need to hear. Don’t just assume that your people know the beautiful things you feel for them in your heart. I mean, let’s face it … NONE OF US ARE MIND-READERS! Also, there are many people in this world, and maybe even some of your people, whose love language is words of affirmation. Meaning, the only way they really “hear” the words “I love you” is by really hearing the words “I love you.”
Do they make you smile when they walk into the room? Does their smile brighten the darkest of spaces? Do they inspire you? Encourage you? Make you want to be a better person? Do they make everything about your existence in what can seem like a dreadful existence more enjoyable, comfortable, and “worth it all”? TELL THEM! Tell them they’re beautiful! Tell them they’re smart! Tell them you have faith in them, that your proud of them, and proud to even know them!
Always remember that every word you speak into someone’s ears or The Cosmos itself can either sow a garden or destroy a crop. So, yes, SAY THE WORDS, but make them IMPECCABLE!
I can end life. I can give life. I bring truth. I bring lies. I am heard … but not seen.Who am I?I AM WORDS!
My valentine may be elsewhere now, but I will revel in all the sweet words I’ll share with all my valentines on Earth today … not the least of which is the very recently broken, not so golden silence between me and my Dad. These texts between he and I may seem a bit silly to the rest of the world, but to me, they are my case in point that hate really can be erased by SAYING THE WORDS!
Since it’s Super Bowl Sunday, let’s talk football! Nah! Just kidding! To be honest, I could care less about the sport. Can I sit through a game now and then? Yup! I’ve spent many a given Sunday either on a couch at home while the man in my life was watching, or at a kitchen island with other uninterested biotches who only watch football when they have to because of … err … the pants. Wait! What? C’mon ladies, and maybe even some of you gents, who in this world can’t appreciate a footballer in those gloriously tight ASS pants? Lol!
Anyhoo …
How ironic is it, then, that one of my “Top 10” favorite movies is about football? I vividly remember the night I first saw Any Given Sunday when it was released in December of ’99. The only reason I even agreed to go was because I have always adored Al Pacino.
While this flick gives the viewer a cinematic glimpse into a fictional world of the NFL player experience, it was Coach Tony’s “Game Of Inches” speech that anchored me to one of the most impeccable cinematic uses of “words” I’ve ever heard. Although I didn’t know it then, this monologue was subliminally preparing me to find the metaphorical “inches” I’d eventually need to claw with my fingernails out of hell:
I don’t know what to say really. Three minutes to the biggest battle of our professional lives all comes down to today. Either we heal as a team or we’re gonna to crumble … inch by inch … play by play … ’til we’re finished. We are in hell right now, gentlemen, believe me. And, we can stay here and get the shit kicked out of us, or, we can fight our way back into the light. We can climb out of hell … one inch at a time.
Now, I can’t do it for you. I’m too old. I look around – I see these young faces, and I think … I mean … I made every wrong choice a middle age man could make. I, uh, I pissed away all my money, believe it or not. I chased off anyone who’s ever loved me. And lately, I can’t even stand the face I see in the mirror.
You know, when you get old in life, things get taken from you. That’s … that’s … that’s part of life. But, you only learn that when you start losing stuff. You find out life’s this game of inches. So is football. Because in either game – life or football – the margin for error is so small. I mean … one half step too late or too early … you don’t quite make it. One half second too slow or too fast and you don’t quite catch it.The inches we need are everywhere around us. They’re in every break of the game … every minute … every second. On this team, we fight for that inch. On this team, we tear ourselves and everyone around us to pieces for that inch. We CLAW with our fingernails for that inch, ’cause we know when we add up all those inches that’s going to make the fucking difference between WINNING and LOSING … between LIVING and DYING. I’ll tell you this … in any fight, it is the guy who is willing to die who is going to win that inch. And I know if I am going to have any life anymore, it is because I am still willing to fight, and die for that inch … because that is what LIVING is. The six inches in front of your face.
Now, I can’t make you do it. You gotta look at the guy next to you … look into his eyes! Now, I think you are going to see a guy who will go that inch with you. You are going to see a guy who will sacrifice himself for this team because he knows when it comes down to it, you are gonna do the same thing for him. That’s a team, gentlemen, and either we heal now, as a team, or we will die as individuals. That’s football, guys. That’s all it is. Now, whatta you gonna do?
While it’s obviously geared towards inspiring a team, in all the years I’ve listened to it, I’ve done so from the perspective of “me, myself, and I”. Meaning? This “I am my own best friend and the one person I know I can always count on” mindset of mine was clearly within me all the while, even during the lowest points of my “game”. I guess I just needed some “get REAL, Cat”, no nonsense, TOUGH LOVE and GRIT coaching from myself as I fought to climb my way out of hell and into the Light … one inch at a time. These words can apply to essentially any relationship dynamic:
… and either we heal now, as a [family … couple … friendship], or we will die as individuals. That’s [life]! That’s all it is. Now, whatta you gonna do?
For the record, I’ve probably watched this movie a few dozen times and listened to the speech itself a hundred times, if not more. I can recite it word for word – AND HAVE – to not just myself, but a few other people I love. Meanwhile, if you’ve never seen it, and even if you don’t like football, I cannot recommend it enough. And oh, yah … ENJOY THE PANTS!
With everything happening today, you don’t know whether you’re coming or going, but you think that you’re on your way. Life lined up on the mirror … don’t blow it. Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you! You looking at me – but I’m lookin’ through you. I see the blood in your eyes. I see the love in disguise. I see the pain hidden in your pride. I see you’re not satisfied, and I don’t see nobody else. I see myself. I’m looking at the mirror on the wall. Here we are again. Through my rise and fall, you’ve been my only friend. You told me that they can’t understand the man I am. So, why are we here talkin’ to each other again?
Uh, I see the truth in your lies. I see nobody by your side. But I’m with you when you’re all alone, and you correct me when I’m lookin’ wrong. I see that guilt beneath the shame. I see your soul through your window pane. I see the scars that remain. I see YOU! I’m looking at the mirror on the wall. Here we are again. Through my rise and fall, you’ve been my only friend. You told me that they can’t understand the man I am. So, why are we here talkin’ to each other again?
Lookin at me now I can see my past. Damn, I look just like my f-ckin dad. Light it up, that smoke and mirrors. I even look good in the broken mirror. I see my momma smile … thats a blessin’. I see the change. I see the message, and no message could been any clearer, so, I’m startin’ with the man in the mirror on the wall.
(‘Lil Wayne ft. Bruno Mars)
So? Why am I here talking to you again? Oh, that’s right! It’s because I needed to remind you of just how far you’re going to rise above all the bullshit that got dumped on the driveway of your childhood that started breaking you in the first place. I know it’s hard to see right now through all the cracks and smoke in your mirrors, but you’re gonna be alright. You’re a queen rising to her own reflection! I love you, younger me. I’ll be here waiting for you until the not so bitter end.
Believe it or not, I’ve been kinda laying low lately due to some painful revelations about my childhood and family. I was in the very early stages of starting to questioning everything again, but as it turned out, I really don’t need to question anything, so, I’m good! I had to bop myself on the head with my magically magic wand and sprinkle myself with pixie dust to remind myself of just who in Heaven AND hell I truly am again.
I’m an extraordinary, magical princess living in a magical fairytale kingdom, and no one and nothing takes my power from me unless I decide they can. I’m kinda legendary that way! Now I’m just sailing softly through the Sun in my not-so-broken stone age dawn, flying high over the meadows in my mind and making waves across my time.
As for the aforementioned magically MAGIC wand I wield, I shall not relinquish either it or its power from my hands until it’s time for me to place it in the hands of its next rightful owner, my daughter, who is also a strangely practical magical fairy princess living in a magical fairytale kingdom of her own, but instead of wearing a diamond encrusted tiara like her mom, she wears a heart of gold and the soul of a sage, mixed with sarcasm, dark eyeliner, a sketchbook, a pen, and a life-size skeleton who rides shot gun in her car year-round. Lol. Yup! That’s a true story! I mean, seriously, people? Did you think I would have any other kind of young woman apprenticing under me for up future reign in an EPIC monarchy of her own?
And one last thing …
Always remember that while some people in this world may look like pure magic, some people really ARE pure magic. It’s your job to learn how to tell the difference. Trust your intuition and that gnawing little feeling in your gut, because that’s your practical magic trying to POOF you to your power, and it’ll never let you down, I promise! Smoke and mirrors may make for a good show, but they’re usually just a distraction from the truth behind practical deceit and lies. In the meantime, keep on keepin’ it real all my pretties! With love, from your magical, fantastical, pixie dust schlepping queen … “REAL Cat”!
… that moment you’re in the middle of what should have been a happy family text about the first-class, luxury vacation he had offered to send us all away on, but instead, you are cold-cocked in the face with the reality that it wasn’t just “dear ole Dad” who was the primary poisoner and “root cause” of the damage to your family tree. I mean, I’d always known that she, too, played her part in our family’s disintegration, but it wasn’t until tonight that I really understood the depth of that damage:
Mom, I’m going to say something and then shut my phone off for the day because I am REALLY upset about what you just did to Dad on that “family text”. It triggered me back to my childhood AND early adulthood when you would constantly say things like:“Just stop feeling sorry for yourself.”“Other people have it worse than you.”“There are children STARVING in Biafra.”“Think about all the people who have no arms and legs.”“You should be ashamed of yourself for all that self-pity.”
No more! It’s gross! It was emotionally abusive, invalidating, ABUSIVE, and a good part of the reason I started torturing myself both mentally and physically because I couldn’t just “be grateful enough” to NOT be devastated by all the REAL trauma I have gone through. You sent a subliminal message to me that I wasn’t allowed to “feel too bad” about ANYTHING because “others had it worse”.Meanwhile, you have ALSO been doing that to Dad literally ALL the years I can remember, and I can’t even begin to count all the times I heard you tell HIM: “Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself! Just look at your beautiful family.”Trauma shaming and trauma comparing are cruel, Mom. Can’t you understand that?
Yes, I know that we have ALL had “beautiful houses, cars, clothes, and plenty of food to eat”, but that doesn’t erase all the HELL some of us have been through. That includes Dad, too.How would YOU like it if EVERY single time you let us know how badly your RA is making you feel, we said, “Just get the fuck over yourself, mom! There are children starving in Africa!”Does the fact that there are, indeed, “starving, homeless, sick people in the world” change the fact that your illness REALLY does make your body ache?No, it doesn’t!Both things can be true at the same time.
What upsets me the most about that text this morning is that here he FINALLY is after all these years REALLY trying to do something nice for this family, but you had to go and bitch slap him and shame him that way – AND – it was for NOTHING – because he wasn’t being self-pitiful, he was making a JOKE!That was pretty gross, mom. You should probably think about that for a minute.What the hell is wrong with you? “Virtue signaling” is a sign of narcissism, you do know that, right?From now on, when you tell us ANYTHING about your disease, we should all accuse you of self-pity?No! No, we shouldn’t.
Please don’t do that to ANY of us anymore. We’ve all had about enough of your “holier than thought” GUILTING and SHAMING us for having REAL feelings for our various trips to “hell”. It caused me a lot of psychological damage over the years, and probably Dad, too. IT’S ENOUGH!
I think I’ve finally had enough of this! I didn’t come this far to have to keep on choking and burning on ashes I never asked to rise above. For God’s sake, people, it really isn’t a competition, and YES, we’ve ALL been broken. Haven’t we suffered enough yet? It’s time to heal? Can’t we all just lay down the guns and calm this fire that never seems to stop burning? Even a phoenix has its limits and gets tired of choking on ashes!
CALM THE FIRE
Calm the fire. Do not fight anymore. They don’t know what they’re saying. They don’t know anything at all. For all that matters is you know that this is not their fault. There are places we should never go. Lost between the cracks something wicked waits below, and all I’m saying there are some things better left unseen at all. It’s been so long, it’s tearing me apart. I cannot understand or comprehend where we went wrong. Now we’ve come so far … the madness in our hearts will never end … ’cause I’ve seen it all. I can’t fight it anymore. If fire burns forevermore, is there nothing left to save, ’cause now more than ever, what we need is love to replace all the obscene. Something good, and something beautiful. If only we could see that now more than ever what we need is a little love. Is there no more? Have we gone too far? There’s nothing I can do to make you sway … to see the blood running through our hearts … no different from the blood we’ve come to hate. (Alter Bridge)
On second thought, get it etched on the inside of your forearm where my favorite “Secrets Make You Sick” tattoo is so you’ll see it 24/7.
So, let’s think this through …
Close your eyes for a minute and think about something you don’t like. It can be anything from a person, place, or thing, to a fresh hot steamin’ bowl of lima beans (the mere sight of which make me PUKE). Now that you have that “thing” in the forefront of your mind …
I want you to LOVE IT!
Well? Did you do it? Do you “love it” now? Hmm. Why not? Let’s try this again. I am heretofore demanding that you …
LOVE that thing you HATE … NOW!
Did it work? Do you love it now? Umm, no! NO, YOU DON’T! No one can MAKE you “feel” anything unless we want to. It’s one of the perks of being a sentient being. There is freedom within within the confines of our own minds to do, say, think, and FEEL whatever the FUCK we want to. It’s our “this is where I END and YOU BEGIN” autonomy!
I personally have a first-hand perspective of having been programmed from birth to adhere to the thoughts, rules, and pathways that the “powers that be” tried to indoctrinate me with. Even so, there is a POWER within and available to us all to FEEL what we feel, and NOT feel what we DON’T. That POWER is mine! That POWER is yours! NO ONE CAN TAKE IT AWAY FROM US! So, why do we just GIVE it away? No one, and I mean NO ONE, can MAKE you “feel inferior” unless you LET them!
If someone is trying to make you FEEL “inferior”, well, that’s about them, not about you, and, umm, it’s prolly ’cause that’s how they FEEL about themselves. The only way a person who “FEELS inferior” can make themselves feel “not inferior”, is to either deal with themselves and take back their own power, or unleash the ill-perceived “strength” they find in their own deflection try to take someone else’s.
Don’t you DARE let me find out that you are one of my people out there running around letting other people bring you down. You are SO much better than that! I PROMISE! Know who you are, own what you feel, and although you certainly don’t have to be a Jean-Claude Van Damn asshole about it, learn to say, “No, THANK YOU!” when it comes to protecting the boundaries around your FEELINGS!
What I love about song by Rascal Flatts is that while it was obviously meant to be about LOVING who you love, you can replace the word love with “FEEL” throughout and still be empowered by it. Make it a great day, my friends, and FEEL what YOU feel, no matter what!
I guess I’ll never understand it. Why do we take it all for granted until it’s gone. FEEL what YOU feel with all that you have, and don’t waste the time that flies so fast. FEEL what YOU feel, and say that you do. Yeah, with every single breath you’re breathing … FEEL what YOU feel! FEEL what YOU feel … again and again and again and again.
(“Love Who You Love” by Rascal Flatts Words Adapted)
Awwww! How sweet! Hugs, hugs, hugs, hugs, Jean-Claude Van DAMN mother effing hugs! Step right up, folks, ’cause it’s “National Hugging Day“, which I guess means that imma have to stay in my effing house, ’cause umm …
Did you also know that hugs were invented to drive that probably only 0.1% of humanity who not only don’t like hugs, but after they’ve had to cordially, awkwardly, or unexpectedly get hugged by some well-intended “hugger” who prolly didn’t even mean to assault them, they then have to go rinse their body and soul off with SOAP and SAGE quite literally over the edge? Yup. THAT’S ME! I’m one of those oddball “0.1 percenters” who doesn’t really even want to “people“, much less be stood too close to or HUGGED (unless I WANT TO)!
Ironically, if for some strange reason I really DO want a hug or some, err, “other” (wink, wink) kind of physical connection from a MAN, I literally can’t and WON’T keep my hands off him without either a restraining order or death. My poor husband, God rest his soul, had to literally hide from me at times because assaulting his physicality was my favorite recreational sports.
MEANWHILE …
Hi everyone! It’s me, CAT! Unless I’ve known you for, like, 140 years, and have a VERY close relationship with you … OR I’ve given birth to you … OR you’re going to be party to giving me grandchildren one day … OR I’ve been in love with, engaged to, or married to you … if you see me walking by, look away and don’t get any smart ideas. I may be a “cute” cat at times, but I’ve also been arrested for assaulting someone who physically assaulted me against my will, and will happily go back again.
Now, get out there and just hug the ever loving SHIT out of anyone in your path – BUT – on the off chance that you got this message “loud and clear” and you see me out of the castle today, alls I’m sayin’ is that maybe you could at least just warn a bitch first:
Umm, hi! Did you KNOW that today is National Hugging Day? Guess what, then? INCOMING!
I just sat there. I just held Shelby’s hand. There was no noise, no tremble, just peace. Oh god. I realize as a woman how lucky I am. I was there when that wonderful creature drifted into my life and I was there when she drifted out. It was the most precious moment of my life.
As for God? While of course, at the time I couldn’t exactly feel Him, every single shred of my being knows that He was there in that room with me, just like “The Footprints In The Sand”. He was weeping as He was holding me as I was weeping and holding her as she was dying in my arms during this, the most bittersweet moment of my life. After all those years of praying for a baby, I’d gotten an angel instead.
Happy 19th, my Gina Marie. I, too, realize just how lucky I am to have been there when you drifted into my life, and then again when you drifted out. We may have only crossed paths for a handful of fleeting hours, but I was honored to have been the one to both carry you here and send you right back Home. It truly was the most precious moment of my life.
I’ll see you when I get there my ‘lil Butterfly! Hey, maybe we can meet beneath that beautiful steel magnolia that always stands strong amidst the grey – always bending, but never breaking – just like your apostrophe of a momma. Then, you can tell me all about the stars you’ve been watching me through, and how much brighter they must be from your tiny little seat in Heaven. I love you.
Ten miles from town, and I didn’t break down, and there wasn’t any smoke on the side of the road. I’m here on my own … but I’m not alone … ’cause wherever I am is my home. All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, and although I won’t be laughing with you, I know that all that still matters is love ever after after the life went through. Yes, there’s still life after you.
The Frog may be gone, the Butterfly he left behind still flitters and flutters with reckless abandon through the skies with a tail fire that rivals even the brightest shooting stars.
Some day, God willing, I’ll drive my grandkids back to this place and tell them all about how everyone thought that Crazy Grandma Cat’s husband was nothin’ but a loser who was gonna have us all living under a bridge.
Hey, ladies? Never forget that Prince Charming doesn’t always ride up on a white horse with a sword. Sometimes he rolls in with an ass ugly Ford truck, a giant heart, and a pocket full of dreams. Dig for the gold that you find in their heart … NOT the gold in their wallet. Just have unconditional love for and faith in him, support hisdreams in every way possible, don’t bust his balls while he’s busting his own balls trying to get you that tiara, and just see what might could happen!
Believe it or not, though, this most tragic of truths is one of my highest honors and privileges. Why is that? Because you can’t have one without the other – life and death, that is – and losing thedaughter I literally prayed for on my knees was one of the most bittersweet catalysts to everything I now understand about the brevity of existence:
Happy 19th birthday, my tiny Gina Marie. I, too, realize just how lucky I am to have been there when you drifted into my life, and then again when you drifted out. We may have only crossed paths here for that handful of fleeting hours, but I was honored to be the one to have both carried you here AND sent you right back Home. It truly WAS the most precious moment of my life.
I believe that I was specifically chosen to bear the burden of this twisted sorority I’m in so that I could become a living example of crazyblind faith in a God and His choices that are otherwise unnatural and unfathomable.
As most grieving parents would likely agree, outliving our children and having to survive “here” with the parts of our hearts and souls they took with them isn’t for the faint of heart, and something I would never wish upon another parent. Pray GOD that I don’t ever have to bury another child, because they are my only Achilles’ tendon.
With that, I am reminded of one of those Quora questions that I love to hate so much, and WOW did it end up being the most perfectly timed pairing for my thoughts:
If, indeed, I knew I only had 10 minutes until I died, the FIRST thing I’d do is reach out to my surviving kids and let them know that:
Although I certainly won’t be excited at the news of my death, I am, as they know, ready for what comes next, and have been for quite some time. I know without a doubt what lies beyond “those stained glass doors” and am not afraid.
Though my body will be gone, I’ll be the zephyr in their skies that brushes their cheeks and whispers in their ears, and will be watching them through my telescope.
Because I’m only human, I I’ve made more than my fair share of mistakes as a mom, but did my best to account for, apologize, and validate the wounds I inflicted upon their souls, right the wrongs I could, and become the best version of myself possible – for them.
They were the literal beats of my heart, every breathe that I took, the two greatest treasures of my life, and in the forefront of my mind during every battle I fought, war I survived, and generational cycle I broke so that they could carry on building healthier branches on our plagued family tree.
When it’s finally time for them to read this Diary and watch all my crazy videos, they know that every one of the “secrets” I couldn’t keep anymore were very much my truths, and despite some bumps in the road along my journey, I did my best to create a legacy for them and theirs that would read more as virtual love letter and not a tragedy. Then, I’d beg them one last time to please take only the best parts of me into their lives going forward and leave out all the rest.
Sure, it may be sad at first, but my death will be nothing at all, and I’ll want them to smile when it’s time to bid me adieu knowing that despite the many circumstances that seemed contrary, I had the BEST life ever, was THE happiest queen alive, and they made me so fucking proud just as they were, simply because they were mine!
Yes, I know that’s a lot to relay in less than ten minutes, which is why I already have some things prepared for my crossing over when it’s time for them to carry me down the aisle.
All that being said, the SECOND thing I would do is just close my eyes, make the sign of The Cross, and tell Jesus that His absolute favorite daughter and most divine apostrophe of all is on her way Home and that I literally CANNOT wait to meet Him in person.
Meanwhile, here I am crying my damn eyes out after having written this. No, I’m not afraid of dying, but I know that when it’s time, my kids will be traumatized, and the thought of them amidst another heartache breaks me into pieces. Their pain is my pain. Their tears and my tears. My kids have both already suffered so much on this Earth, but if I’ve done my job well and have planted enough faith seeds for them, “Crazy Momma Cat’s” kids are gonna be alright.
With that, and in honor of not only a new year filled with infinite possibilities, I challenge every one of you to make the next 365 days really count!
This song is beyond special to me, by the way. Zack used to sing it to me, as it was one of his favorite songs of all. It was, therefore, the very last song he heard me play for him as I carried him down that proverbial aisle.
CARRY ME DOWN
And if you see me losing ground, don’t be afraid to lie. I know the pain inside my heart can’t break the fear inside of yours. And if you see me losing faith in what it means to die, don’t let me leave before I know what lies behind the stained-glass doors. Save sorrow for the souls in doubt. Bleed every care out. Will you carry me down the aisle that final day? With your tears and cold hands shaking from the weight. When you lower me down beneath that sky of gray, let the rain fall down and wash away your pain. For every word we never spoke, we have a tear to cry. For every silence like a wall between a better you and I. So if you see me losing sight of all the death in life, you’ll find the peace in every time I failed to see the death in mine. Let all the fear inside you drown. Tear out the blade and lay it down. Save sorrow for the souls in doubt. Bleed every care out. Will you carry me down the aisle that final day? With your tears and cold hands shaking from the weight? When you lower me down beneath that sky of gray, let the rain fall down and wash away your pain. Oh, the blood is rushing out. Oh, I’m better off without. Oh, the walls are closing in. Oh, sing for me again. {Demon Hunter}
… and after having read through the many beautiful and powerful Christmas weekend “words” via cards and messages from not just my kids, but many dear friends and followers on my various different social media platforms, knowing MY words are enabling some other people to find a way to let go of some of the really heavy stuff that is anchoring them to either the past, the present, or even the bottom of an abyss has been my greatest gift and treasure. Lol, I even got a heartfelt virtual message from one of my favorite phoenixes of all, the wordsmith of all wordsmiths, Mr. Moody! Ask me if I was mad about it? Nope! I kinda wasn’t!
After having gone back and watched my own live video message excerpt this morning above, and especially after having heard myself refer to “feeling as light as a balloon”, I immediately remembered some “words” I’d once written to myself, my God, and my family:
I’m holding on to white balloons up against a sky of doom. Tell me you see them … ’cause what’s inside of me is invisible to most … even in clear view. I’m sending out a signal to the possibility of you … ‘cause right at this moment I know you are connected to a part of me that I don’t even know myself. The changes in me are likely to be like the weather … stormy and clear … strength into fear bound together. But I’ll break my silence if I believe that you and me could ever be more than just what’s been behind us. I desperately want to learn how to live in the rest of every moment I’m lucky enough to have here on this Earth until the day finally comes, hopefully many years from now, I can move on ahead to what is undoubtedly going to be the most peaceful place of all with a soul that is as light and free as a fistful of white balloons.
… and just like that, I have once again come full circle with my beautifully broken reality over a decade after having put such powerful “words” out into the Cosmos. And thus is the story of my life. Yes, I did send out a signal to my husband, my children, my God, and MYSELF, because I knew that I was connected to a part of all of them, all of this, and all of YOU in ways that I have still yet to understand. “Nothing. Everything. ALL OF IT!” … and now, HERE I AM! Has the weather been stormy and clear often both at once? Jean-Claude Van DAMN it has! Have I broken my silence and finally come to believe that I really am so much more than just what’s been behind me? YOU BETCHA!
~ by Gia Embach~
Love me or or hate me, laugh at or mock me, “divinely punctuating” the world is aside from being a mom, my truest joy. Thank you so much to all of you who are on this wordsmithing journey of my own. If only I had a real magic wand, trust me when I say that I would run around POOFING as many of you as I possibly can into the “little white balloon girl” that I am. I just want to be as much of Light in all of this darkness that I can, so, I’ll keep holding on to all my white balloons and praying that not only can some of you can see them, but that one day you’ll be bopping around throughout eternity with a fistful of white balloons of your own.
~ Christmas Eve Words Of Affirmation From THE Wordsmith ~
So, it’s Christmas 2022, and here I am thanking my Lord and Savior, JESUS yet again for my abundant undeserved blessings and gifts, not the least of which is HIS birthday today. Might I just add to the mountain of intangible treasures under my proverbial tree that I did NOT receive or “become” after the actual storms of HELL I’ve had to walk through?
Hi everyone! It’s me, the REAL Cat Williamson, not the FAKE one! All this pain and suffering have been my greatest gifts! The bitter end WILL come in time, but the joy I have found in the sweet here and now keeps me alive!
Merry Christmas to you all, and here’s hoping that you, too, will sift through your own piles of unwrappable but invaluable gifts today, not the least of which are all the things that YOU, too, have NOT become, despite any less than optimal circumstances that should have led to down the road to a bitter end.
THE BITTER END
I’ve walked every road and turned every corner. Searched high and low where I did not belong. Adrift with the tide, always hungry and yearning. If only I’d known that the answer was here all along. The bitter end will come in time, but the joy I have found in the sweet here and now keeps me alive! I’ve kissed the lips of an angel in waiting. Devil in kind, I’ve been lost and deceived. The thrill had to fade in this world for the taking. Once I woke up to what mattered, then I could see. The bitter end will come in time, but the joy I have found in the sweet here and now keeps me alive! We’re lost on a road where all we can find are just the remnants of hope that somehow we leave far behind. But this much I know … somehow we’ll be alright, ’cause it’s never too late to learn how to start living right. The bitter end will come in time, but the joy I have found in the sweet here and now keeps me alive! {Alter Bridge}
Everything changed for the better this night on the thirty year anniversary of her death. Maybe she wasn’t really the devil incarnate … or evil … or my enemy. Maybe she was only ever meant to be the ying to my other Grandma’s yang and one of my greatest lessons in forgiveness, power, and grace of all. For that, I say this:
Grandma, if you can hear me, maybe I had this all wrong? I, of all people, know EXACTLY what it’s like to be a little girl hiding in grown woman’s body so desperately far away from The Sun. Maybe it really IS true that “hurt people HURT people”, and that you, like me, did the best that you could to just SURVIVE.
I’m sorry. SO sorry! Please forgive me for all of the things I’ve thought in my head, and worse yet, the many AWFUL words about you that I put out into the atmosphere. Hey, who knows? Maybe I’ll see, you, too, on the brighter side of all this GREY. I love you.
(PS) If you happen to see my baby, my husband, my Grandma Mary, and my GRANDPA, tell them all that I love them!
(PSS) Oh, and one last thing. If you happened to be watching us through your telescope, perhaps you saw this, too, today? It would appear that THIS, of all Christmas Eves since you left, was meant for some OTHER miracles of forgiveness, power, and grace, too …
When The Sun is hard to find … when it’s raining in your eyes … when the shadows block those pretty little blue skies living inside you. When the falling of your tears, makes a candle disappear … when you just can’t see The Light, baby I’ll find a way to shine. I’ll find a way to shine!
(“Shine” by Keith Urban)
By the way, don’t you dare forget that you can and shouldsing those beautiful words to YOURSELF every day, as well. Jean-Claude Van Damn, YUP, I sure as HEAVEN do belt this one out loud to ME quite often! After all, I am my own greatest love story, so, why shouldn’t I sing love songs to myself? Alrighty then! Now, snap to it people! Go on and SHINE for someone today. You just never know if someone who’s in your path might really need you to.
Well, good morning my handsome prince! Here’s hoping this is the best day EVER! Please do me a favor and listen to this new song I found, and listen to it REAL good. It’s special. Yes, it “might” make you cry … BUT … it might also help remind you why we are BOTH doing everything in our power to CHANGE the broken cycle in this family.
I believe with every shred of my being that you do now have ALL the pieces of the puzzle in your hand, not the LEAST of which is “the girl”. Christian, I just know that she is the one God made for YOU. Neither one of you is “perfect”, son. NONE OF US ARE! But trust me when I say that I know your heart better than anyone else in this world. I mean, DUH, I’m the QUEEN who made it. I also know how that vast wonderland of a mind of yours works, too. IT’S JUST LIKE MINE! That’s how I KNOW that you two were made “perfect for EACH OTHER”.
This next season of your life is probably when all the good stuff is REALLY gonna start happening, not the LEAST of which is raising a little family, which is why you NEED to absorb EVERY word in this powerful song. Let it be a song you listen to every day to remind you that there really IS no “present” like “the time”. Just think about the “season” we all had Zack in our lives, and how he changed EVERYTHING for ALL of us. It may have only been “a little more than a decade”, but the truest gift he left behind for all of us was THE TIME.
{Text on December 2, 2022}
Son,
Exactly thirty years ago this minute, at 4:50pm, you made your appearance and changed the trajectory of my life forever. Know that I’m writing this that I’m literally crying my eyes out, because I can’t believe how fast the time has flown by. With that, and as you prepare for the first trip of what will hopefully be a lifetime together with our girl, aside from the trip itself, my gift to you is just these “words”. Only, this time, they’re the borrowed words to that Jay Allen song I sent last week.
This morning, I said an extra prayer in addition to my usual ones. I asked God that if any of the words I’ve ever said to you in our last three decades together land and stick to the inner most places of your broken but healing heart and soul, it’s these most powerful ones of all:
Take a picture. Take a chance. Chase a dream. Chase a girl. Say a prayer. Take a trip. Don’t hold your breath. Hold your kids before they’re too big. Help a stranger. Help yourself. Pull that Bible off that shelf. Open it up with your mind. See the world through His eyes. Make the most of what matters the most in this life. ‘Cause it can fade in a minute, no matter how you spin it. That clock keeps ticking. It can stop on a dime. Be careful how you spend it. In a blink, it’s gone, goodbye. ‘Cause there’s no time like the present. Oh, there’s no time like the present. And there’s no present like the time. It’s a gift. It’s all you get. Make a friend. Make amends. Make a call. Tell the truth. Say I love you.
I love you, Christian Peter, “to The Moon and back”, then back againto eternity. Enjoy your trip to Aspen and allow yourself the much needed time to just relax, have fun, cut loose, cut up, and gear up for what I believe is this next most important decade of your life. It’s time for you to start rising above all the ashes we all left you in throughout these bittersweet years, and planting the roots of a much healthier family tree of your own. Please let our many mistakes and failures be the springboard from which you really start “stealing the Sun” and flying from the inside.
Most importantly, though, please take good care of that girl, and remember: “That angel hangs on every word you say”. Always be mindful of how to talk to her. She’s someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, will hopefully be someone’s momma and entire world one day, and she’s the daughter of God who I believe He made perfect just for YOU! No, son, I don’t think she’s perfect” … none of us are … and also, “perfect” would just be boring. But yes, she’s perfect for you. I know with every single fiber of my being that she’s the one I’ve been praying for incessantly since the day that YOU were born exactly thirty years ago. BE IMPECCABLE WITH YOUR WORDS! They’re notjust little toy guns, but they are, in fact, like toothpaste: Once you put them out there, you can’t but them back in the tube.
Well, that’s it, then. Another decade is in the books! Here’s to another STELLAR one filled with love, laughter, and every possible brighter side of all the beautiful GREY that is our lives. Although the world may see you as a man, I will only ever see you as the first boy who stole and captured my heart eternally.
Oh, and one last thing. Never forget that Zack is still watching all of this from his telescope in the sky. Keep on making him prouder than he already was and still is after seeing all the growth in you since he’s been gone. I love you to The Moon and back …
Three total strangers at the restaurant where we had my son’s birthday dinner tonight said I had “a really infectious energy”, and as we were leaving, one of our waitstaff quickly pulled me aside and said, “You have such a happy spirit, girl. You make me smile!” I almost cried! So, on the drive home alone, I shut off my radio and allowed myself the safe and quiet space to think out loud and just talk to myself. Lol! Yes, I even answered myself back!
How, Catherine? HOW? How in the actual ‘you’ve survived HELL‘ are you not a miserable, jaded, toxic fucking bitch? How do you still smile? How do you still laugh? How are you still so happy? How do you always manage to turn shit storms into sunshine and chaos into creation?
Umm, DUH! Have you MET you? You’re a positively infectious QUEEN, not just because you CHOOSE to be, but because you’re a gift from God to the masses. THIS is How He’s using you … it’s your purpose and highest calling!
Indeed, this was the conversation “me and me” had. Guess what? IT’S TRUE! I do have a genuinely happy spirit. I own it, cherish it, revel in, and embrace it! Meanwhile, if you could be inside my skin and feel how I feel right now, you would think I just won Miss Universe.
If I’m not meant to “walk on” through another 86,400 seconds tomorrow, knowing I’ve made some people in my path feel “positively infected” means I’m living a life of use to others. What if someone who crossed my path tonight is barely hanging on and my “infection” was a glimmer of Light in their darkness? What if one of them really needed smile?
Beauty fades – AND IT WILL – but not only does the energy we send into the atmosphere not fade away, it will linger on infinitely long after our mortal bodies are but ashes returned to the Earth. Thank you, Jesus, that I finally got my energy right, ’cause being a “good infection” in a all too often toxic world is all really want to be. I want to leave this place and the people I meet along the way better than I found them.
Although I had already used this song that has infected my soul since first hearing it twenty years ago, it wasn’t until my drive home last night that one of the lines literally crawled up my spine in every best way possible, and fully circled its way back around to me:
You’re packing a suitcase for a place none of us has been … a place that has to be believed to be seen. You could have flown away, a singing bird in an open cage who will only fly, only fly for freedom. What you got you can’t deny it, can’t sell it or buy it. Walk on!
Little did I know that one day I’d look back and understand that the reason I loved it in the first place was because someday I would actually be the little bird in the song. What I’ve got, I can’t deny it, can’t sell it, or buy it. All I can do is just keep walking on in all my inner beauty, power, and grace, always flying Home to the freedom I’ve found in my infectious soul and blinding everyone around me with my Light.
Tonight, I’ll sleep in peaceful bliss as the most blessed queen of the world. Kinda like “Glinda The GOOD Witch”, but instead, I’m “REAL Cat The Beautifully INFECTIOUS Bitch!” Besides, “all I get to KEEP is all I share“, so, I’m just gonna stay contagious!
… and just like that, a very short but powerful 47 second speech by Tyler Perry that I just happened to stumble across tonight became a part of my life story via this Diary because it IS the very short but powerful story of all the bittersweet and beautiful seasons of my extraordinary life.
… and thus, the fourth but probably not last appearance of one of my ultimate “Death Punches” to the heart life songs which is the very first thing that came to my mind when I was listening to this 47 seconds of greatness. For those of you who haven’t heart this beautiful speech yet, know that the “less than a minute” you’ll spend listening to it will be more than worth your investment. ENJOY!
When I saw this Heraclitus quote recently, one of my all-time favorite songs by one of my all-time favorite bands immediately came to mind, so, I thought I’d pair them together in honor of the 36th anniversary of its release this week:
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the course of my bittersweet and beautiful lifetime, it’s that the only thing that never changes is the fact that everything changes. Yet, the mere contradiction in the constant “inconsistency” of our existence is something we can all be thankful for. Do me a favor and close your eyes for three seconds, then open them:
ONE one hundred …
… TWO one hundred …
… THREE one hundred!
Well? Did you do it? GOOD! In case you didn’t know, every shred of everything about not just your life, but the entirety of the world as we know it just changed. While you were busy counting, and even if nothing about you or your surroundings seems different, IT IS! Meanwhile, the wisest of us know that the ability to adapt to constant change is the one true key to survival. Just thing about your ancestors, God rest their souls:
One hundred years have gone and men again they came that way to find the answer to the mystery. They found his body lying where it fell on that day, preserved in time for all to see. What became of the man that started? All are gone and their souls departed. Left me here in this place so all alone.
As overwhelming as this whole “living” gig can seem, and especially given that sometimes it really can feel as though you’re walking solo through a frozen tundra – NO! You are never all alone! JUST LOOK INSIDE A MIRROR! You are them! They are you! You’re the living embodiment of the quarters they kept and all of the changes they had to weather so that you could be standing upright in this brave new world. They’re beside you and behind you every step of the way, whispering:
Hey, you got this! You’re one of ours and we’ve already carved the path for you.
Look, I’m no scientist and certainly no expert on the power of our DNA, but I do know that somewhere in the history of mankind was the very first of “me and mine” and “you and yours”. I’m a woman who stands firmly and proudly upon the mountain of untold trials, errors, lessons, and survival of the countless of my people who came before me. I’m the living, breathing, warrior QUEEN that they produced. Is there really “true royalty” in my bloodline? Who knows? WHO CARES? As far as I’m concerned, it’s not a piece of paper or public opinion that made me who I am today … it’s all those beloved “cave-people” of mine who set me up for success, NOT FAILURE, so, imma make sure that I represent them well and not let any of their sacrifices or wisdom that’s hard-wired in me have been in vain.
For the record, although on the surface, the song seems dark and sad, for me, it became the road map to the flip side of its lyrics:
But now it seems to me that NOTHING’S lost and ALL is gained. Sometimes things ARE what they seem. They heard me calling, rescued me, and set me free in this place, but NEVER lost and alone.
I’ll wrap this up now with one of my favorite quotes by Mariam-Rose Ungenmerr-Baumann, the beloved Aboriginal activist, faithfully devout Christian, and artist:
When we heal ourselves, we heal our ancestors from wounds that run deep in our family. When we heal our ancestors, we heal the world from wounds that run deep in humanity.
Okay, so maybe the lyrics to this song don’t really speak to the “32 pennies” epiphany I had this weekend while driving home from Nashville. Even so, these words do apply:
Thirty two pennies in a Ragu jar … that’s all I’ve got to my name … but I love her and she loves me … to the pennies it’s all the same.
Meanwhile, and might I just add how frigging cool the power of “music alchemy” is once again? And last, but not least …
To My Kids,
Regardless of the road we’ve walked together and all the sauce your Dad and I spilled on the proverbial table of your lives, always know that “I loved him and he loved me”. You were both born to this world from love.
Although we may not have had the entire dollar to give each other and sometimes even you two, please know with every shred of your beings that your dad and I both did the very best we could with the set of broken utensils from our own childhoods to make you the best damn sauce we could and fill your childhood piggy banks with as many pennies as possible.
If God is the God I know He is and He continues not to forsake me, I have to believe that each of you will add even better ingredients and more and shinier pennies to your own families’ pots of sauce one day. Just “take the best parts of us“, lock them away without the key, and know that win, lose, or draw, we are always by your sides … now … and eternally. I love you.
~ “BMITW”
… and if I die with a penny in my pocket, then I guess that’s all I need!
… ’cause if someone where to ask me, “Cat, if you could only pick ONE legacy to leave behind one day, what would it be?”, THIS would be what it would be:
When the lights go down, the last curtain has dropped, and I’ve taken my final bow, I hope they’ll all say that the ONLY thing I ever wanted to keep was everything I shared, and that when they speak of me, ‘because of Mama I have a good heart’ will be my legacy. “But above all things, I would want them to know that I will ALWAYS love them”.
By the way, if you don’t already know that I was crying my fucking eyes out as I wrote those powerful words, well, then you don’t know me that well at all. Meanwhile, if you know anything of the true and living QUEEN on Earth LEGEND that Dolly Parton is, and that it’s not her gazillion dollar music empire, badass fucking theme park, or the world class resort that’s literally up the street from the SHACK where HER Mama built the legacy that earned them BOTH the crown. It’s her heart!
In being honest, although I do like her music, I’d be lying my ass off if I said I was a true, blue, hardcore fan. I am not. I am, however, a HUGE fan of her kind heart and the magic of her philanthropy. That woman would probably give the tiny little shirt off her back to someone who needed it, which is ironic, since another celebrity I love, respect, and adore who ALSO happens to love Miss Dolly, would likewise give the shirt right off his tattooed back to someone who needed or even just wanted it. In fact, he’s actually done it before. But I’ve digressed. It’s not what you have, my friends … it’s WHO you are and the goodness in your heart that builds a legacy. “To Whom Much Is Given” …
How many of you knew that today is “World Philosophy Day“, the international day proclaimed by UNESCO to be celebrated on the third Thursday of every November? Lol! You’re so welcome for this random nugget that you probably could have lived without knowing for the rest of your life!
Meanwhile, of the questions I see most often on the writing forums I frequent is, “What is the purpose and goal of philosophy”? I believe the ultimate goal of philosophy is to help us identify what we really “think, feel, and believe” about humanity, then EMBODY IT! Don’t just say the philosophical word or quote you’ve studied, appreciated, then memorized. Walk it. Talk it. Live it. Breath it. Emulate it. Stand for it. Own it. Embrace it. EMBODY IT!
In being honest, though, despite the fact that over the years there have been many different philosophies I’ve studied, appreciated, and aligned with, I believe that we should each seek out and endeavor towards our own unique set of “thinks, feels, and believes”, and not just find some someone else’s to strictly adhere to.
Don’t get me wrong, I do suppose that in many ways, the study of other peoples’ philosophies has its merits, but too often, and especially these days, free thinking seems to be a dying art, because everyone is so fixated with “labelism” and the sense of identity they feel by belonging to a specific mindset or group:
Oh, yes, I’m a Platonist, or Aristotelian, or Stoic, or Epicurean, or a Skeptic!
Oh, really? That’s awesome! ISN’T IT GOOD TO BE YOU? It looks like you’re in the cool club now because you’ve read some ancient words and found “something” you believe in! But, umm, hi! What do you think? What do you say? What do you feel?Do you have ANY original thoughts or synapses of your own? Or, instead, are you a 6 billionth edition mimic of some dead guy’s novel concept that you read in a textbook or on some social media post that just happened to appear on your feed?
As for me? As I said, I have both studied and appreciated a little bit of all the many schools of philosophy, and guess what, people? I’ve found mindset platforms I align with in almost every one of them – some of which blatantly oppose and contradict themselves. My personal philosophy is MINE and sometimes it can often change with the season. I call my school of thought, “Life According To Cat”, and I am here to tell you that, frankly, some my ideologies may actually be quite ridiculous. But they’re mine, and mine alone, and not only do I not shove them down peoples’ throats, I’m also wise enough to know that some of the things I do, say, think, and believe may be categorically WRONG! I’m very rigid about some things, and very open-minded about others, and sometimes those varied paradoxes can happen within the same five minutes!
I’m “THE FIRST OF ME” and “THE LAST OF ME”. The multi-dimensional and fascinating world between my ears is something even I don’t always understand, but I just go with it anyway, because I’m ME, and I CAN, and as long as I’m not burdening anyone with the “philosophy” I embody, then it’s Jean-Claude Van DAMN none of anyone else’s business what “school of thought” is in session for me each day. I have no want to be labeled or categorized, nor do I need group to belong to at all. I belong to MY group: “Real Cat, Party Of One!” Anyone who’s ever tried to put me in a group or box has usually ended up with that same box right up their ass!
So adamant, am I, that human beings learn to think for themselves, that I even deter my own children from adhering to my philosophical ideologies and beliefs. I don’t WANT them to be just like me, think just like me, or believe just like me. They’re my children – not my puppets, extensions, or mockingbirds. If I’ve done my job well by the time they’ve left my nest, they’ll be “where I ended and THEY begin”, not Xerox’s of dear ole mom. Parents who raise their kids that way are GROSS! Oh, yah, that’s just ONE of my RIGID “Real Cat” philosophies. Parents should allow their children to be who they were meant to be – NOT who they WANT them to be. But that’s another answer for another day.
I’m not gonna lie, folks, it has taken me a very long time to arrive at the answer to that, “what is the purpose and goal of philosophy” question that began this Diary entry, and in doing so I found something else to believe in short of my belief that the truest value in philosophy is only achieved when it’s taught us to find our own, which is this …
No matter how many enlightening books I read or dead guys’ words I’ve studied, I will faithfully continue to sit down with myself and have the same long, heartfelt and often heated conversations with me about all the things I believe that I’ve been having all along. More so than that, I’ll keep being thankful to have even reached such a place wherein I’ve been blessed to have the ample experiences I’ve had, good, bad, or indifferent, such that I can truly “walk, talk, live, breathe, emulate, stand for, own, embrace, and EMBODY” all the somewhat nonsensical things I do, not the least of which is the God I’ve never once lost faith in despite the fact that I could have long ago.
SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN
I lost all faith in my God, in His religion, too. I told the angels they could sing their songs to someone new. I lost all trust in my friends. I watched my heart turn to stone. I thought that I was left to walk this wicked world alone. Tonight, I’ll dust myself off. Tonight, I’ll suck my gut in. I’ll face the night and I’ll pretend I got something to believe in. And I had lost touch with reason. I watched life criticize the truth. I’ve been waiting for a miracle. I know you have, too. Though I know I won’t win – I’ll take this one on the chin – we’ll raise a toast and I’ll pretend I got something to believe in. If I don’t believe in Jesus, how can I believe The Pope? If I don’t believe in heroin, how can I believe in dope? If there’s nothing but survival, how can I believe in sin? In a world that gives you nothing, I need something – something to believe in. {Bon Jovi}
Will you know if it’s happiness you see? Will you feel a different side of me? And if you let it go, would you come back to haunt me? Are you doing the best that you can?We can wait here for tomorrow, or we can find ourselves right now.Think about all that we’ve wasted trying to figure all this out.I know it’s not too late to turn it all into something beautiful.
Can you see The Light still needs to shine inside of you through the windows you can’t find? Will you let me go? I’m tired of hiding. I’m trying to find my way. We can wait here for tomorrow, or we can find ourselves right now. Think about all that we’ve wasted trying to figure all this out. I know it’s not too late to turn it all into something beautiful.
All you need is a chance to believe.
{Words Adapted by The Real Cat Williamson}
~ Me
Well, yeah, Me. The Light still does shine inside of me … and no, I will never let you go. We’re The REAL Cat Williamson … “Warrior. Motivator. SURVIVOR;”. WE GOT THIS!
No, it didn’t kill me. It only make me stronger. I really would rather capsize than chase an old horizon, because the old one’s are behind me, and looking back at them will never allow me to continue growing forward and cross over.
I cannot tell you how thankful I was for the multitude of texts, phone calls, and messages I received after posting this live video moment of real “real”. It meant more to me than anyone could know. It wasn’t until I picked up my phone during a respite on the floor of his closet and saw all the supportive messages that I realized how much I really do “need people” after all. In being honest, at this stage in my life, sometimes I think I don’t. I went to sleep literally “feeling” the love and vibes that had been flowing my way tugging at my soul strings throughout the process all day.
Meanwhile, yes, I really did “punch today in the face”, so, wearing this shirt out tonight was epic! Wait! What’s that you say? “Cat, what does that even MEAN?”Oh, yah! “Punching today in the face” is a “Wheelchair Dad thing. I won’t go much into it, as I really want you to just click on the link and find out what it means for yourself. Sufficed to say, though, Dan and Andrea Kotter and their six beautiful babies who I recently stumbled across have managed to truly “punctuate” and inspire me in a profound way. I cannot tell you how proud I was to ROCK this hoodie while out with my family last night after all was said and done. I’m even prouder of the fact that I even went out in the first place. There was time in my life when treading water with such heavy emotions would have not only drowned me, but found me locked inside my room for the days and even weeks to follow.
Truth being told, while I’d always heard that going through and finally letting go of your deceased loved one’s belongings was one of the, if not the hardest part of the whole grief process, it wasn’t until I was sitting on the floor of “the king’s closet” that I realized just how true it really is. It was like he’d just just died all over again, except that parting with his things made the reality more real. No, he’s never coming home again.
My kids felt this “second death”, too, in a way, so, having them so close to my heart all day added even more diamonds to my tiara. The one “at my six” in the picture above? She’s the girl who’s stolen my son’s heart once and for all. Trust me when I say that she has his six, too, and getting go watch all the ways that she was there for him, not just today, but as usual, made my triumph in this even sweeter.
Perhaps the biggest irony in all of this was that years ago when it was time for me to let go of The Blaze Of Glory’s things, it was Zack who was there with me physically and emotionally. God, Himself, knows that at that juncture I wouldn’t have been able to do it alone. Just look at me know, though, with all this strength both the kings of my heart helped me find, “power and gracing” my way through it all like the true and living queen they left behind.
Just pick one thing, honey … the one thing that reminds you of him the most … and give it a place of honor …
… which is exactly why the do-rag you see hanging on the little cabinet in the video is also the first thing you see in this Diary entry. “Of Ghosts, And Kings, And Three“. It looks like it’s time for me to really start moving on, which is why I’m dropping both of these most powerful songs of my life in this entry.
It’s Veteran’s Day, again, and a highly annoying question I was recently asked on Quora just rushed to the forefront of my mind:
What’s the most sensitive way to express skepticism towards a war veteran’s stories from battle?
My answer was as raw, unfiltered, and as scathing as I think I’ve ever gotten. Fair warning and full disclosure: If you have a weak stomach when it comes to blood and carnage, this Diary entry is not for you:
Umm, so, let me ask you a question, “Anonymous”. When’s the last time you witnessed someone’s head getting blown off two feet in front of you? When’s the last time you had to pick someone’s arms and legs off your own face? When’s the last time you had to throw an M26A1 into a village full of women, children, and babies, then “watch a young girl cry and her mother scream” knowing full damn fucking well it was you who’d be making those angels fly away? When’s the last time you hid in a trench while LITERAL hell on fucking Earth was airborne over your back and all you could do was pray to GOD that you’ll get to see your family’s faces again?
Unless or until you can get back to me with the firm date and time that you had to participate in any of the living nightmares listed above in the name of your god and your country and tell me how you “just got over it”, I think you should go wash your brain out with either a bucket of soap and water or some battery acid.
I mean, seriously? I’ve never been in the military nor an actual war, but I have watched my own child die in my arms, watched the first true love of my life hit a brick wall on his Harley going 90 with no helmet (to which my immediate response was to actually attempt to put his brains back into his head to no avail), and I also live with the daily knowledge that the second true love of my life, my late husband, blew his own fucking brains out in a dirt lot just a block away from our home that I still live in but can’t move away from until our daughter graduates from high school, because I’m trying desperately to keep things stable for her to the best of my human ability despite the fact that I have to drive the FUCK by “the spot” sometimes multiple times a day.
I also bear the honor of being related to a retired brigadier general, and have spent time in the company of many other combat veterans I’ve been in PTSD group therapies with over the years. As such, I’ve “heard stories” that I’ll both never get to unhear or forget. As it turns out, NOT dying with your boots on is of one of the cruelest ironies of all and can keep a soldier “dead alive” in a mental prison on the exact “Wrong Side Of Heaven” forever.
My point being this: Who the fuck are you to question the validity of a war veteran’s “stories”? PTSD is a bastard fucking demon like no other on the face of this Earth, and if, as I suspect, you haven’t ever tried it, I cannot NOT recommend it enough. Maybe then you’ll know better than to write unacceptable, bullshit questions like this ever again.
Fuck you, ya Jean-Claude Van DAMN little mega douche.
(PS) I hope this answer wasn’t too “insensitive” for you!
I spoke to God today and She said that She’s ashamed. What have I become? What have I done? I spoke to the devil today and he swears he’s not to blame. And I understood, ’cause I feel the same. Arms wide open, I stand alone. I’m no hero, and I’m not made of stone. Right or wrong … I can hardly tell. I’m on the wrong side of Heaven and the righteous side of hell. The wrong side of Heaven and the righteous side of hell. I heard from God today and She sounded just like me. What have I done and who have I become? I saw the devil today and he looked a lot like me. I looked away. I turned away. Arms wide open, I stand alone. I’m no hero, and I’m not made of stone. Right or wrong … I can hardly tell. I’m on the wrong side of Heaven and the righteous side of hell. I’m not defending. Downward descending. Falling further and further away. Getting closer every day. I’m getting closer every day to the end, to the end, the end, the end. I’m getting closer every day. Arms wide open, I stand alone. I’m no hero, and I’m not made of stone. Right or wrong … I can hardly tell. I’m on the wrong side of Heaven and the righteous side of hell.{Five Finger Death Punch}
That’s right, folks … “O” here we really are again. I’ve fallen UP in the fog once more as the great alchemy of music stepped in with its magic when I least expected it to wrap me in the most beautiful “grey high” blanket of rhapsody I never saw coming.
The songs that my son sends to me to tell me how he’s feeling are the diary of HIS perfection and they’re one of my most precious things in my life.
As I’ve already told my him, I love him more than words can say, and knowing that I’m his “Nettie” is amongst one of my utmost diamond encrusted treasures in this world. Today, as always, I’m thanking GOD for the literal hell that both he and his sister and I have all walked through and SURVIVED together, because without it, I’d have never be able to see the miracle I see through all this fog.
I saw a question posted on my Quora forum recently that asked: “How can imprisonment for insults be justified, considering no one has ever been killed by words, and no words can force somebody else to choose to do harm?”
With that, and in honor of the anniversary of “The Four Agreements” I love so much having first been published on this day in 1997, let’s go over “words” by reading through my response to that question:
Oh, but you couldn’t be more wrong, my friend. Someone “ever” HAS been killed by words, let me assure you of that. While words themselves cannot physically force someone to choose to do harm, they can, indeed, incite it. Both the spoken and written word are the womb from which good things are born, and the sword upon which many tragic tales have fallen. This is why every “word” should be chosen impeccably, and why, yes, some insults are, indeed, deserving of imprisonment. If the words one speaks can metaphorically imprison the person receiving them in internal turmoil and ACTUAL hell, and thus potentially even cause their death, so, too, should the person who speaks such such words be imprisoned.
By the way, this is especially important when it comes to the words we speak into the ears of children, be them our own children or someone else’s. Many are the children whose bodies physically grew into adulthood, but whose hearts, minds, spirits, and fledgling wings were physically MANGLED at the receiving end of careless “words”. How do I know this? I AM ONE OF THEM!
The song I’ve paired with this entry is from the perspective of a child who hid in closets while their mom and dad were not just murdering each other with “words”, BUT THEM AS WELL! Been there. Done that. Yes, it’s true, and I am brave enough to admit that not only was I, too, that kid hiding in the closet from sparring parents, but I later grew up to be one of those parents who ashamedly let subjected my babies to the war of words between their dad and I. So, whereas my Quora answer is obviously about the danger of not speaking impeccably in general, likewise are children MANGLED in the presence and crossfire of “words”.
Are we clear now, people? Good enough! In the meantime, make it a powerful “Four Agreements” kind of day, and for God’s sake PLEASE be impeccable with your words. They are not … I repeat – NOT … just “little toy guns”.
LITTLE TOY GUNS
In between the coats in the closet, she held on to that heart shaped locket. Staring at a family flawless … but it ain’t a pretty picture tonight. Mom and daddy just won’t stop it. Fightin’ at the drop of the faucet. Cuts through the walls catastrophic. She’s caught in the crossfire. Puts her hands over her ears … starts talking through the tears … she’s saying … she’s praying. I wish words were like little toy guns. No sting, no hurt no one. Just a bang bang rolling off your tongue. (I wish words were like little toy guns.) Yeah. No smoke. No bullets. No kick from the trigger when you pull it. No pain. No damage done. (I wish words were like little toy guns.) Wish there was a white flag waving, or that they were both just faking, and it was just a game they were playing, like shoot’em up cowboys. Leave the plastic pistols in the front yard, throw away the score card, and just turn off all the noise. I wish words were like little toy guns. Oh, I wish they didn’t cut like a knife. I wish they didn’t break you inside. I wish they didn’t bang bang make you wanna run, yeah. {Carrie Underwood}
I’ve long said that I’m an actual queen, because I truly am, but if history has taught me anything, it’s that a queen is only as powerful as the legacy she leaves, not the tiara that adorns her head. My children are my tiara, despite it being invisible. Likewise, are they every “FL colorless” diamond that encrusts it. They’re the echo of my voice that will surely linger on as my utmost gift to this world.
Take for instance this email I got today amidst an actual storm that was brewing in the atmosphere about something Gia had written to recognize and nominate one of her favorite teachers for an “Honored” teaching award:
Mike Rock is a counselor for students with learning disabilities or other struggles in their studies. For example, I have ADHD, and I get this class to get extra support with my schoolwork. Since the very beginning, Mr. Rock has gone above and beyond to help students in his class. Every class, he stands outside his door and greets each student personally, and asks how their day has been going, and tells them how happy he is that they are doing well, or that they are there that day. And always with a bright smile and kind voice, too. He is beyond patient, always remaining calm and kind even through the multitude of meltdowns and anger-outbursts that students have thrown at him because of their frustrations. He is deeply concerned with the wellbeing of his students. He remembers things that they say, be it a concert they are excited to go to, or that they have a loved one struggling. He doesn’t just stop at helping his students with their schoolwork. He is a teacher as much as he is a trusted friend. He talks with us about struggles we have and shows interest in the things we enjoy. One particular action stands out. On Friday, November 4th, there was a threat for severe weather in our area. School let out early, and as I was walking to leave the building, I caught Mr. Rock. He greeted me with a warm “Hello Gia!” (My nickname) and a smile. We were making small talk as we left, and I was talking about how my dad was picking me up, since I didn’t drive to school because my dad didn’t want me driving in the heavy rain. I complained about how despite my dad telling me that morning to bring an umbrella, I didn’t, and it was raining in sheets. As I was about to go out into the rain, he pulls out his umbrella and tells me he is going to walk me out to my dad. The umbrella is only big enough for one person, so I refused, saying “thank you so much! But you don’t have to do that. He is parked kind of far away!”. He insisted, so I let him (I really didn’t want to get soaked in the rain anyway. It was cold and windy. The entire way to my dad’s car, he held the umbrella over me while he got rained on. Out of his way, and in the pouring rain, he still made sure I got to my dad’s car safe and dry. When I got to the car, Mr. Rock told me to be safe, and I told him the same. My dad drove off. Mr. Rock’s car was in the opposite direction that I needed to go. This isn’t the only time that Mr. Rock has gone out of his way to be kind and considerate. He regularly supplies his classroom with students’ favorite candies, mints, and even fidget toys. All on his own, and without being asked. One time, he was gifted a box of expensive chocolate from the Ukraine from a friend. He took the box of chocolate and shared it with us. (It is a very small class. There’s only about 10 students). Teachers like Mr. Rock are few and far between. He brightens our days and is someone we can always count on to have a kind word to say, or just a positive, friendly attitude. He is truly an amazing teacher (He has single handedly raised student’s grades with his tutoring, support, and encouragement), and an admirable and good person. I know he deserves to be recognized.
My Mona Lisa couldn’t stop making me smile if she tried! She’s lifting others with her “beautiful infection”, and like her brother, never ceases to amaze me. If only you knew what she’s really been through, you, too, would fail to understand why she’s not a jaded teenager just looking for an excuse to become a toxic adult. She makes me proud every day, and it’s moments like these that are why.
There is no lie in her words about “Mr. Rock”. If only I could properly credit not just him, but the many other teachers and mentors that have supported and led her through the proverbial storm she’s been walking through since losing her dad and having to go through high school without him. Each one is a beacon of hope and a restoration of faith in humanity to not just her, but this widowed, single mom, as well. I literally cried my eyes out at the thought of this man walking my kid to the car with his umbrella over her head while he was getting soaked.
Gia, my princess, when the time finally comes for you to start reading this Diary, know that you truly are everything I hope to be when I grow up. No, you’re not perfect … you’re just a flesh and blood mortal like the rest of us. Besides, “perfection” would be boring, anyway. Still, sometimes I wonder if you really are from another planet, because the last time I checked, there seems to be a shortage of kids like you running around on this one. Lol, and you think that I’mthe real Wonder Woman? That’s funny, because I actually think it’s you!
If, as we both suspect, Dad really is watching all of this as you live out this dream he had for your life, surely he, too, was beaming with pride today as you lit a fire with your impeccable words. Please listen to this song again, because it was the first thing that came to my mind after I got the email from your school today. I love you, “Three”! ~ Mama
In my lifetime, I have had either the unfortunate or very fortunate (depending on how you look at it) privilege of discovering just how many different ways there are to die, both literally and figuratively. Through it all, though, getting to love you and be loved by you taught me this one most powerful thing …
Indeed, there are many ways a person can die, but there’s only one way a person can live … with unbridled, unwavering, and truly unconditional love. If my love alone could have saved you, you would surely have lived forever, as those are the ways I loved you. I still forgive you for leaving us the way you did to wander in this garden without you, and no matter how awful this world may ever seem to be, the story of “me” will always be extraordinarily beautiful because you were in it.
A Chinese Proverb that I’ve grown to love says:
It is better to be a warrior in a garden then a gardener at war.
With that, it is my truest prayer that as you’re looking down on me now and then through your supernova telescope in stars, that you’re proud of the warrior queen I’ve become as I tend to this garden we started together alone.
As I’m sure you already know, I’m God’s actual favorite daughter, and perhaps my greatest victory in this life has been in accepting and embracing my divinely appointed purpose of punctuating this seemingly Godforsaken world with as much of the Light I can find and wield.
I’m learning how to pick my battles much better day by day, because if loving you and getting to be a part of your story taught me anything, it’s that peace is always better than war … especially when it comes to the wars we fight from within. It still breaks my heart when I think of all the ways you suffered here having never truly found your own peace within. Pray GOD that you finally have now.
Just because you won’t be here for the full bounty of what my heart had to give you, it doesn’t mean it’s still not there. There are an infinite number of universes out there where I can and do still walk with you, talk with you, laugh with you, and am held by you in the ever-growing gardens of my mind.
While it’s no big secret that loving you changed my life forever, losing you has done the same, because it was all the love you poured into me that helped me find all this power and grace. These abundant gifts you left behind are mine to keep until the day I move on to the brighter side of grey and leave it all behind for my babies. I will love you eternally, Zachariah.
Indeed, dear ole Mr. Freud nailed that one right on the head! Might I add, though, that we should never try to outrun our own dark shadow, because that’s where our demons live. Believe it or not, sometimes we actually need those little fuckers around, for without them our egos truly would be the dark and tragic end of us. HELLO? Haven’t you ever watched Star Wars? Never mind. I’ve digressed.
Okay, where was I? Our demons are there to balance us; to challenge, humanize, and perfect us … not to be cast out to the abyss. They keep us honest, keep us real, and keep us on our toes. Those nasty little dark siders that ride around on our shoulders are there as a point of reference for the light and dark.
So, with that, I’m just thinking that what we really need to do is just tame them, train them, leash them, and maybe even give them a little space to do what they need to do from time to time in order to bring our souls full circle.
I thought it ended when I knew love’s perfect ache, but my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake.
The only way you can really fly is with the power and grace of a phoenix rising from its own ashes. If that means you have to become the arsonist who sets fire to the safety of your oh so sweetly delusional lullaby, so be it. You’ll be alright … I PROMISE!
In the meantime, HAPPY HALLOWEEN to all you beautifully imperfect twisted ones like me out there who have truly made peace with your “little pets”. Tonight of all nights, be sure to let them trick OR treat, depending on their mood. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer”, ya know what I’m sayin’?
ARSONIST’S LULLABYE
When I was a child, I heard voices. Some would sing and some would scream. You soon find you have few choices. I learned the voices died with me. When I was a child, I’d sit for hours staring into open flame. Something in it had a power. Could barely tear my eyes away. All you have is your fire and the place you need to reach. Don’t you ever tame your demons, but always keep ’em on a leash. When I was 16, my senses fooled me. Thought gasoline was on my clothes. I knew that something would always rule me. I knew the scent was mine alone. All you have is your fire and the place you need to reach. Don’t you ever tame your demons, but always keep ’em on a leash. When I was a man, I thought it ended when I knew love’s perfect ache, but my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake. All you have is your fire and the place you need to reach. Don’t you ever tame your demons, but always keep ’em on a leash. {Hozier}
NO! NO, THEY DON’T! The only person who suffers when we wish bad for others is the “wisher”, not the “other”. Regardless of the crime that reduces a victim to thoughts of retribution, by speaking ill will over another into the Universe you join the factions of pathetic people who drink from the same cup from which the poison they’re serving first came.
There’s an unspoken kismet law about malice, which is that once you receive it, you either rise above it or become it. In my opinion, malevolence is a “karmic boomerang”, in that once it’s tossed out into the wind, it always finds it’s way back to the sender and never misses its chance to return a favor.
Although the people who refuse to give in to their own darknessappear to be weak and cowardly, in reality it’s the evil things that walk amongst us that are the truly feeble. Even a toddler can than throw a stones at someone, but it takes an immense amount of strength, courage, and resilience to just stand there and let them hit you.
If, as I suspect, the reason we exist here is to choose between The Light and the dark, don’t be a fool and repay evil with evil. Vengeance is the Lord’s, and only the Lord’s alone, and you ARE NOT “The Punisher“! Besides, getting hit in the face with a boomerang can’t be all that fun, ya know what I’m sayin’?
Don’t get me wrong, I have been that “karmic boomeranger” in days gone by. There was a time in my life when I all but drove to New Orleans in the wee hours of the night to get an actual West African voodoo doll in which to stick my pins of vengeance into those who have wronged me or mine. And Jean-Claude Van DAMN, don’t even get me started when it comes to those who have brought harm to my kids … up to and including other kids! Taming the momma animal in me has been a work in progress over the years, but thankfully I’ve slayed that beast and sent it back down to hell where it belongs.
These days, I don’t dare spend my precious energy on the “THINGS” that will surely face the cosmic dragons they’ve unleashed unto themselves before it’s all said and done. Instead, I opt only to focus on the positive things and people in my atmosphere and not let all the devils I’ve had to dance with unleash the devil inside of me.
THE DEVIL INSIDE
Make me believe I’m human. Make me believe I’m not the voice in my mind. I don’t believe all the wrong I’ve done is forgiven. Make me believe I’m living. Make me believe I’m not the face that I hide. I don’t believe another day I can breathe so forsaken. Can you see my disease? Cannot hide what’s inside. I’m moving paralyzed and living hypnotized, hit right between the eyes, living with the Devil inside. I’m moving paralyzed and living hypnotized, hit right between the eyes. Living with the Devil inside. Can you see my disease? Meet the Devil inside of me. Is this the fate I’ve been given? I hear it calling in the dead of the night. I don’t believe I can ever be free of this hell that lives inside of me. Can you see my disease? Cannot hide what’s inside. I’m moving paralyzed and living hypnotized, hit right between the eyes, living with the Devil inside. {Like A Storm}
I can’t recall when a morning news story ever made me so fucking happy. I literally cried tears of joy for this man and his family when I heard these words from his mouth:
So, I made them a deal today, and I’m gonna stick to it. After this year, I am going to make one more Five Finger Death Punch album and then I am retiring from heavy metal.
A dear friend and highly intuitive Death Punch sister I was talking to this morning said that lately she’d been sensing a sort of “death” with him. In fact, we’d both been feeling that something’s been a little bit off in his world, though not necessarily in a bad way, but neither of us could put our finger on it. Well, there we have it! As it turns out, the death she’d been sensing was a metaphor for an ending. The “death” of this chapter of his beautifully dirty, poetic life, and the birth of an entirely new one.
It’s “phoenixry” at it’s finest!
As I’ve been scouring through this news today, I read, “Well, let’s just hope that the next 5FDP album will come as late as possible”. Yah, yah, I get it. We’re gonna miss him. But I couldn’t disagree more. For as much as I have come to love, respect, and adore him, not as a “rock star”, but a human fucking being, it’s only right to let him go in peace without a fight.
Nothing would make me happier then to never see his face again, be it on a stage or social media where we’ve all relished being a part of his “family” if that meant he was riding off into the sunset and sanctuary of his truly personal life and endeavors. No man is more deserving of the next rebirth that will surely come from fading the bright lights that have both propelled and devoured him, into the quieter lights of his real family’s hearts and eyes. After all the tiny pieces of his broken, risen, but probably exhaustedphoenix soul that he’s literally bled out to the masses, no man has earned the right to finally rest his wings and fly back home to the ones he fought so hard to keep living for. C’mon, people! Those bright lights almost fucking blinded him, and I know for a fact that he’s given the actual shirt off his back to some of us. Also? Let’s face it. Not everyone has been so grateful for his contributions to both the arts and humanity. So, he’s damned if he does and damned if he don’t. Still, the vultures have picked at his living carcass enough, don’t ya think?
There’s a song I’ve always loved and have listened to for years by another band, Cold. The poignant words are clearly written from the perspective of a weary musician:
Whatever you became, blame it on my fame. Always away from you … sold my life for a song. Whatever you feel, I take it on my stage. I sing to the world for you … and I’m always alone.
These days, I think about him when I hear this song. I say to myself, “Damnit, Ivan, we love you! We ALL mother fucking LOVE you! But haven’t you’ve spent way more than your fair share of all of your power and grace on us? Just free yourself and go home.”
This life we’re living really is just a blip, and yes, the lights will go down. Do everything within your power to ensure that when your door closes for the very last time you leave your light on for the people you’ve left behind and not just a darkened void. It’s how you’ll become “nothing, everything, and ALL of it” and leave this place better than you found it.
Well, guess what, Fucker? I’m saying “job well done”! While I realize this process isn’t going to happen overnight and we’ll still have some good times to share with you, know that when the last of those lights on your stage go down, the one you’ll have left behind for all of us will keep on burning bright through that void.
Those of us who’ve been paying attention know that aside from your family, there are still many gifts and contributions you’re working on leaving behind for the cause you’re so fucking passionate about. And hey, who knows? Maybe you’ll even find a true and proper queen to ride off into that sunset with. You deserve that, too, my friend, and I’m praying that you’ll find her!
~ The Phoenix Rests ~ (A “Midjourney” Creation By @archinorn)
Despite the fact that I was raised Roman Catholic, I was fortunate enough to eventually become a sold-out and crazy, “deaf, dumb, and blind faith believer” in God the Father, His Son, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost. That being said, I’m also somewhat of an omnist in that I believe that all the different faiths and creeds point to a singular, transcendent being that unites us all, all of which are known by different names, but in my case said “being” is called by the aforementioned name of “God”.
The great Lao Tzu was a brilliant writer and philosopher who was widely known to not only be a good and kind man, but also a fierce proponent of the natural order of things, freedom from social norms, spontaneity, and the underlying unity of this Universe. He also fathered Taoism, in which he didn’t acknowledge the “God” I believe in (or any god or omnipotence outside of the Cosmos), there are a great many of his ancient teachings that I personally adhere to and align with.
You see, that’s what makes each of our unique spiritualities, beliefs, and paths so incredibly fucking beautiful … and powerful! If you search deep and wide enough and truly desire internal peace and alignment with this Universe, you will likely find a little nugget of your soul’s song in every soul’s song.
Yup, we’re all different! There ain’t no doubt about it! But then again, we’re really not so different. We all have something to bring to the table, and unless or until we come to terms with that epic collective reality, the great divide that is burgeoning between us will be our ultimate downfall and demise. We have to learn to think for ourselves, together, but separately, and sometimes even look inside the odd little boxes we don’t want to look in that we find down all those scary, dark corridors and blind corners.
I truly wish I could have met you, Lao Tzu, and truly believe that you would have loved my own “Nothing. Everything. ALL OF IT!” mantra. Here’s hoping I’ve made you proud by holding your age-old belief that when we do, say, think, or give of ourselves, we should do so from ONLY a place of the true love and conviction of our soul, expecting not one single thing in return. Oh, and wise sage, indeed I heard you when you said:
Not seeking, not expecting, she is present, and can welcome all things.
I shall not seek. I shall not expect. I shall be present. I shall welcome all things. And for the record, Master Tzu, I do hope to have Lucky Charms with you some day in another space and time. You’re my kinda people!
NOT SO DIFFERENT
There’s a panic in the air – lead you down a dark corridor, round a blind corner. Beware! Why do you stare? You got a bad feeling? Heavy heart beating so scared. What’s really going on behind the scenes, through the back streets, down the alleyways that nobody sees? Through the heart of what divides, whenever I look into your eyes, we don’t need the space between. We’re close enough to see we’re not so different now. We’re not so different. We are almost there, and this is the beginning as long as you are willing to dare. We’ve been everywhere looking for some meaning – looking for a reason to care. What’s really going on behind the scenes, through the back streets, down the alleyways that nobody sees. Through the heart of what divides, whenever I look into your eyes, we don’t need the space between. We’re close enough to see – we’re not so different now. We’re not so different now. {Trapt}
Today is the fourth bittersweet birthday that we don’t get to celebrate with you, and as of about twenty minutes ago, I had absolutely no idea what I was going to write in tribute to you today. As I was sitting here staring blankly at my screen though, my eyes began wandering around at all the pictures on my desk, and I spotted this precious one of you. That’s when I closed my eyes and had this vision …
It was me looking at that the sweet, blonde-haired, blue-eyed little boy at around age 10. I was holding him in my arms like I did so many times in our journey together, and especially in the months before you left when I would hold you like an actual baby as you would cry. Your little head was resting on my chest so perfectly still and calm, and when I looked down at your face, you were smiling.
What is it, Zack? What on Earth are you smiling about?
Then, you looked up at me and whispered the most powerful words I could have imagined hearing on this bittersweet day without you:
Catherine, I’m okay. I’m finally resting.
I want you to know how deeply sorry I am that the people who were supposed to protect you from the demons that devoured your mind failed you so fucking miserably. It is my truest prayer that you did make it Home safely, that you’re very much alright, and that your soul is in the peaceful, loving care of the greatest Parent of them all.
I’ve always loved this song, listen to often, and always think of you when I do. Only this time I’m tweaking the words “my way”, as if you were singing them to me:
I know you’re down at the river bend after fighting the fight ’til the fighting end. You’ve washed the poison from off your skin, and now you’re finally whole again. I always think of you flying up on silver wings, far past the black where the sirens ring, warming yourself in a nova’s glow and rising above your nightmare below. You’re no longer a crack in this castle of glass, and never forget that you were so much to see. I know that you’re Home in a binding dream through all of the secrets that we both have seen. I, too, have washed this sorrow from off of my skin, and yes, I, too, am finally whole again. So, until that day comes when I can see you again, I’ll keep looking for your light as it slips through the cracks in this castle of glass in which I still live. As for now, though, there is still so much more for me to see. Happy Birthday Zachariah. I love you. ~ Me
As soon as Gia gets home from school, we’ll be heading down to the pier to skip a few rocks over the water before we go have our annual Red Robin burgers in your honor. Though you’re not here to physically reciprocate the love I have always and will always feel for you, that love will never be wasted. In the meantime, please just keep watching us through your telescope.
The Diary Of My Perfection 
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