tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83872821211055575052024-02-07T20:05:01.563-06:00Redhead On The RunI've spent my entire life trying to discover myself. I've always felt I was a "redhead on the run". I finally feel like I have a sense of myself. This blog is a place of release for me. A place for my commentary on the world... Enjoy, and enter at your own risk... Please excuse any typos! Editing is not my forté and I typically write via mobile.SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-14683975925603038282022-03-23T13:06:00.001-05:002022-03-23T13:06:40.657-05:00Sometimes I Write Poetry<p><i>It's been some time since I've let anyone in to see:</i></p><p><b><u><span style="color: red;">Sometimes I Write Poetry</span></u></b></p><p class="_04xlpA direction-ltr align-center para-style-body" style="--font-size: 42px; --line-height: 1.4; font-family: "YAD0tMyTjZs 0", _fb_, auto; line-height: 58px;"><span class="JsGRdQ">instant recognition, my soul within</span></p><p class="_04xlpA direction-ltr align-center para-style-body" style="--font-size: 42px; --line-height: 1.4; font-family: "YAD0tMyTjZs 0", _fb_, auto; line-height: 58px;"><span class="JsGRdQ">the world of your eyes, i get lost, in</span></p><p class="_04xlpA direction-ltr align-center para-style-body" style="--font-size: 42px; --line-height: 1.4; font-family: "YAD0tMyTjZs 0", _fb_, auto; line-height: 58px;"><span class="JsGRdQ">translation, running, my, fingers</span></p><p class="_04xlpA direction-ltr align-center para-style-body" style="--font-size: 42px; --line-height: 1.4; font-family: "YAD0tMyTjZs 0", _fb_, auto; line-height: 58px;"><span class="JsGRdQ">through your hair,</span></p><p class="_04xlpA direction-ltr align-center para-style-body" style="--font-size: 42px; --line-height: 1.4; font-family: "YAD0tMyTjZs 0", _fb_, auto; line-height: 58px;"><span class="JsGRdQ">mesmerized</span></p><p class="_04xlpA direction-ltr align-center para-style-body" style="--font-size: 42px; --line-height: 1.4; font-family: "YAD0tMyTjZs 0", _fb_, auto; line-height: 58px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigOuF5z9IOUzC2nyjo86jYmfgQcunCzyAGNftsQIKi8bNHqRBXE0FT340Q5OsjuBCZ983hVAIRgFUeWknC3xFKd-A66rc8d5nLZVL8Tnd8uKpF-i4Cu80SPkkeo0vytXlHo5j8tYpEP38t3F869dMZbkZ17O2pW-MyWcPbhR1R_-8-nAbqsdjKKewx/s1620/Sometimes%20I%20Write%20Poetry.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1620" data-original-width="1620" height="403" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigOuF5z9IOUzC2nyjo86jYmfgQcunCzyAGNftsQIKi8bNHqRBXE0FT340Q5OsjuBCZ983hVAIRgFUeWknC3xFKd-A66rc8d5nLZVL8Tnd8uKpF-i4Cu80SPkkeo0vytXlHo5j8tYpEP38t3F869dMZbkZ17O2pW-MyWcPbhR1R_-8-nAbqsdjKKewx/w403-h403/Sometimes%20I%20Write%20Poetry.png" width="403" /></a></div><p></p>SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-12007058259959303602015-09-20T12:16:00.001-05:002015-09-20T12:17:00.444-05:00Shopping Socialization - I Don't!<div>Can you relate?!</div><div><br></div><div>When I go shopping I don't talk to people. I'm on a mission with my best resting bitch face on. While people are socializing in the fruit section I'm mentally lobbying with politicians and big-box companies. I've been asked before "Sarah, why don't you like to talk to people when you shop?" </div><div><br></div><div>To answer this question let's use this morning, for example... I'm walking through the grocery store for a few staples.</div><div><br></div><div>*24 ounces of brown shaded, artificially flavored high fructose corn syrup and sugar concoction = $2.80 on sale for $2.49.</div><div>Or</div><div>8 ounces of pure maple syrup = $6.90 on sale for $4.99.</div><div>*1 loaf of organic, preservative free natural multi-grain bread = $6.80 on sale for $5.99.</div><div>Or</div><div>1 loaf of enriched white sandwich bread = $0.89.</div><div>*1 64 ounce bottle of 100% not from concentrate fruit juice = $4.80 on sale for $3.99.</div><div>Or</div><div>1 box of 10 sugary, fake juice, fun squeezable drink pouches = $2.</div><div>*1 preservative-free package of fresh pasta (of course you will need to purchase something to flavor it) = $4.60. </div><div>Or</div><div>1 package of dried soup noodles with MSG fake flavoring to infuse it with = 5/$1.</div><div>*4 sticks of real unsalted butter = $3.40 on sale for $3.29.</div><div>1 giant tub of artificial spread = $3.60 on sale for $2.99.</div><div><br></div><div>I hear someone who resembles a manager comment to a customer that it's an enigma how someone on food stamps could manage to be so obese and they sarcastically joke that they will be paying for their healthcare benefits too. Mention how it must be nice to have free money to waste on junk food, like "those people" do.</div><div><br></div><div>Makes me want to grab my itty bitty overpriced glass jar of "product of Canada" maple syrup and hit him on the head with it in hopes it knocks some sense into him. I didn't, but I would be lying if I said the image never came to mind. I rant internally... "All these exercise, school and positive reinforcement preventative health programs designed for our "war on obesity" and the low-hanging fruit seems to be adjusting prices to make healthier food options just that... Realistic options."</div><div><br></div><div>So... this is why I don't socialize in the grocery store. It's honestly in everyone's best interest. An innocent , "hi, how are you" will undoubtably end with me standing on the check out counter passionately leading the rebellion in protest.</div><div><br></div><div>End ramble. Carry-on.</div>SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-88523732739252274742015-05-08T20:20:00.003-05:002015-05-08T20:20:12.210-05:00Public ProfileRe-established reputation via public profile.<br />
Our affective bias buttons being pushed all the while.<br />
Those with pure altruism need not us remind.<br />
We know because you impact us with acts so kind.<br />
And your humility...<br />
Never ceasing to be.<br />
Those who must publicly profess<br />
most likely don't walk in the manner they eloquently profess.<br />
Unfortunately,<br />
our perceptions of reputations<br />
can be manipulated far too easily.<br />
Never question your reality<br />
created by behavioral patterns which have emerged so frequently.<br />
Always question the truth chosen to be revealed and<br />
pray God exposes what lies in private darkness concealed.SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-49149863570194375292014-10-11T16:07:00.002-05:002014-10-11T16:09:15.632-05:00Stories by My 7 Year Old Son<h2>
Jake and Jace</h2>
<strong>Once</strong> there was a boy named Jake and Jake had a brother named Jace. They lived in a village in Mexico. They lived by the ocean.<br>
<br>
There was a well. It ran out of water. They went to the ocean.<br>
<br>
There was a large dam and it covered the water's edge. It stormed and all their crops and shelter caught on fire. They didn't know what to do.<br>
<br>
Then... a tornado came by them. It picked them up... and they went west... over the Pacific Ocean... and then north... and then east to California in the USA.<br>
<br>
They were lucky and still alive.<br>
<br>
Some people were scared and so they went to a farm. <br>
<br>
Jake and Jace knew much about how to farm, but they went back to the city and they dressed like Americans. They got a house and job.<br>
<br>
They were not scary anymore. <br>
<br>
They lived in the USA for the rest of their lives.<br>
<br>
THE END<br>
<br>
<h2>
The Ending World</h2>
<strong>Once </strong>in a jungle the air got cool and it started getting colder. It was snowing and the wind was breezing.<br>
<br>
In the earth there was a cave going from one side to the other. Someone jumped in and never came back. <br>
<br>
The earth cracked splitting one side 52 miles from the other.<br>
<br>
One side had just the ocean. One, which was the other side, had everything else.<br>
<br>
The one with just the ocean went to a northern galaxy. All the water fell off except for the boats and the people. <br>
<br>
The other formed more water from the lake. The other one also had some holes with water in it. It formed water too. The people built buildings and houses too.<br>
<br>
But then, there were too many stars that were as big as the star named the Sun.<br>
<br>
The people named it Steal. Earth was the one with everything but the oceans. Steal was the one with just ocean. <br>
<br>
One of the stars hit Steal. It exploded. It went all the way to the galaxy with Saturn and hit Saturn. A little bit of Saturn broke off. It shot off; it went slower, and slower. It went over by Earth and stopped.<br>
<br>
They called it The Year of 1.<br>
<br>
They called the big rock the moon. Every year went higher. The moon went gray.<br>
<br>
Everybody called it The Ending World.<br>
<br>
THE END<div><br></div><div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOuFDnUBW2LpDcXgkNnaJxdd-7q7Cmdba_QSMGVroHPXwSSiUTh8e9gyAHMgSuRPB0htvOaaC0xhYgd6Bg9NJTxqbBDTK04GDgc1h1jphdDuS-ULPGVQdp8bbaHdt9UAA0HZ1-q8S3k60/s640/blogger-image--1714224512.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOuFDnUBW2LpDcXgkNnaJxdd-7q7Cmdba_QSMGVroHPXwSSiUTh8e9gyAHMgSuRPB0htvOaaC0xhYgd6Bg9NJTxqbBDTK04GDgc1h1jphdDuS-ULPGVQdp8bbaHdt9UAA0HZ1-q8S3k60/s640/blogger-image--1714224512.jpg"></a></div></div>SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-21777347481564688662014-09-28T00:31:00.001-05:002014-09-28T15:05:03.316-05:00A Pawn No More<span style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyzcXFNU0TwJJxD9M3ZCPWXrZ7ic5yiA1zsHejGER3ojEsI2zd9MN3ilHL_0DUi4QvygXoVntTfooRP33hsXJbV4s_0THFHjRtgqTII5-3vFMAoRtQj3sSlf_E3Tz7CF77Cgv_-7jgENo/s640/blogger-image-245378376.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyzcXFNU0TwJJxD9M3ZCPWXrZ7ic5yiA1zsHejGER3ojEsI2zd9MN3ilHL_0DUi4QvygXoVntTfooRP33hsXJbV4s_0THFHjRtgqTII5-3vFMAoRtQj3sSlf_E3Tz7CF77Cgv_-7jgENo/s640/blogger-image-245378376.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><div>no longer do I wear</div></span><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>childhood naivety</b> </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">cloaked </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">over me</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">allowing<b> your kind</b> to </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>take advantage </b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">of<b> me </b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">once upon a time </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">your </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>smile</b> and </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">your<b> </b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><i><b>smooth words</b> </i></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">caused </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">loss of <b>rational</b> thought</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">with the drop of a dime </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">you were no good for me</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>victim</b> </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">fallen pray</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">to your </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>manipulation</b> </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">and your </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>lack of </b><b>empathy</b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">to me you were <i><b>confusing</b></i> </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><i>hopeful</i></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">when I glimpsed<b> rare behavior </b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><i>thinking</i> </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">this was the real you</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><b><span style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><u>mistaking</u> </span></b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><b><span style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">it for potential</span></b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">unknowing </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">here is the <b>REALITY</b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">those glimmers of hope</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>you KNEW</b> this was how</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">you </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">could <b><i>woo</i></b> </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">as I was unaffected </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">by your tantrums</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>you took advantage </b>of </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">my empathy</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">unfortunately </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">for a <b>psychopath's victim</b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><i>like me</i></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">you let us fully</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">see who you are</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>when we no longer </b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">feed your appetite for </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><b style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><i>control and supremacy </i></b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><b style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><i><br></i></b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><b style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><u>when it's too late </u></b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">to you life is your game</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">that you win by <b>pulling the strings</b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">of those who are your </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>puppets</b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">acting irrationally </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>so you achieve </b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><i><b>self gain</b> </i></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><i><br></i></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I often wonder </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>do psychopaths know</b> who they are</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">are they consciously aware </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">of their</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>defective </b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>personality</b> blunder</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><i style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><u><b>and if so - do they even care</b></u></i></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><i style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><u><b><br></b></u></i></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><i style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><u><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHJXCA3C0Ssa76KzrHxh0Qi8kp765kBGa3CM2q5P5AlWfDYuZKNpIk3HeN1ggMJtfZJ16GPqOTF_BshzpNQDt5KQDDRGiQ0Dz8MbDrcX5dovmg_qSvHoxYxu2r2rns2sZB67ydcs_McY/s640/blogger-image--1927672207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHJXCA3C0Ssa76KzrHxh0Qi8kp765kBGa3CM2q5P5AlWfDYuZKNpIk3HeN1ggMJtfZJ16GPqOTF_BshzpNQDt5KQDDRGiQ0Dz8MbDrcX5dovmg_qSvHoxYxu2r2rns2sZB67ydcs_McY/s640/blogger-image--1927672207.jpg"></a></div><br></b></u></i></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><span style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">the </span><b style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><u>psychopath</u></b><span style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"> </span></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">from my life </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">gets an<b><i> emotional high</i></b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">getting ahead by </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><i style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><u><b>using</b> those who care</u></i></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">with </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>charm, intelligence, and lies</b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>cheating </b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>and </b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>stealing </b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">... a <b>way of life</b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">to the <b>manipulative torment</b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">there is no limit</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>no one</b> is immune </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">whether bound by <b>blood</b> or</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>brotherhood</b> </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><span style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">only to thy </span><b style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><u>self</u></b><span style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"> is</span></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">a psychopath true</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">it <i><b>amazes</b></i> me</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">*keep in mind hind sight 20/20*</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">how easily you could </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">take advantage</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>use and abuse me</b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">and yet </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">somehow </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>I would be </b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>the one </b><b>feeling </b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>guilty</b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">there must be an <b>art</b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">to having this </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">disordered personality </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">to be able to <b>confidently lie</b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">when BOTH <b>you and I </b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>know </b>the <b>truth</b> part</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b><i>if</i></b> this poem were about you</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I would be <b>shocked</b> if you even knew </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I'm <i>sure</i> you would say </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I'm projecting myself </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b>ownership and blame </b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">two definitions </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">you <b>never differentiated</b> </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">and when I tried your wrath</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><i><b>unglued</b></i> </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><b style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><u>psychopaths</u></b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">they<b> don't care</b> about you </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">they don't <b>know how to </b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">nor are they capable to</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">there is only<i> so much</i> you can do</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">to help people </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">but for them there is <b>no help</b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b><i>beautiful, intelligent, heartless, </i></b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b><i>and cunning</i> </b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><b><br></b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392);"><b style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><u>a walking shell without a soul</u></b></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjs23Kc4WAxGP_Kk4KW9oU5hZp0bzZgXb1AVib1r61gWEiEYH7a3rSIg2J3tx9Y26GY7AgN8vlsAMLHntFuQLvtrKWseuH2xDv4UL4mOXx6yzvQ9fKol-ZWjdm_B1y72lmVS3jtwEIteU/s640/blogger-image-954367154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjs23Kc4WAxGP_Kk4KW9oU5hZp0bzZgXb1AVib1r61gWEiEYH7a3rSIg2J3tx9Y26GY7AgN8vlsAMLHntFuQLvtrKWseuH2xDv4UL4mOXx6yzvQ9fKol-ZWjdm_B1y72lmVS3jtwEIteU/s640/blogger-image-954367154.jpg"></a></div></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div>SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-22564512185783267782014-08-04T21:33:00.001-05:002014-08-04T21:44:08.934-05:00TAL•ENT•ED A Lesson in Engagement<div class="vk_ans" style="margin-bottom: 0px;"><span data-dobid="hdw" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">What does it mean to be talented? How do we invest in talented people to keep them engaged? </span></div><div><div><ol class="lr_dct_sf_sens" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 20px; border: 0px;"><li style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; list-style: none;"><div class="lr_dct_sf_sen vk_txt" style="padding-top: 10px;"><div style="margin-left: 20px;"><div style="margin-left: -20px;"><div>The following is an excerpt from <i>Wikipedia:</i></div><div><p style="margin: 0.5em 0px 1em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; background-image: none; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-variant: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; background-image: none; box-sizing: border-box;">"Talent</span> means the skill that someone has quite naturally to do something that is hard. Someone who has talent is able to do something without trying hard. It is an ability that someone is born with. It is a high degree of ability or of aptitudes."</i></span></p><p style="margin: 0.5em 0px 1em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; background-image: none; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Gallup recently conducted another employee engagement study in 2013, finding that a mere 13% of the world's employees are actively engaged. 13%. Stark! </span></p><p style="margin: 0.5em 0px 1em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; background-image: none; box-sizing: border-box;">Everyone has talent and a capacity for success. The secret is to be able to identify this potential in others and to invest in that potential appropriately. </p><p style="margin: 0.5em 0px 1em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; background-image: none; box-sizing: border-box;">We are born with talent. Talent exists in our areas of rapid learning. It would make sense then that holding a person back from exposure and larger responsibility in areas of his or her talent for the sake of gaining more years of experience would be incredibly disengaging. For someone who isn't talented in the same skill or field, sure. That makes sense. </p><p style="margin: 0.5em 0px 1em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; background-image: none; box-sizing: border-box;">I look to the practices of Gifted and Talented children in schools. These kids are academically talented. They aren't required to do the work that they naturally know. If they are able to achieve the result they move on and focus where they can be challenged. Sometimes I wonder if these companies studied by Gallup are making employees do hours of arithmatic when they hunger for calculus. If these companies are forcing employees to complete the required work of a third grader even if they are ready to take on fifth grade level work.</p><p style="margin: 0.5em 0px 1em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; background-image: none; box-sizing: border-box;">Today's workforce is populated by Gen Y, followed closely behind by Gen X. What you will find in numerous publications is the importance to Gen Y of investing in unique talent. When you hire for potential and invest in it appropriately, growth and the need for change happens at a more rapid pace.</p><p style="margin: 0.5em 0px 1em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; background-image: none; box-sizing: border-box;">As a result, today's workforce values an environment that invests in employees based on their talent, or potential to succeed in the role, combined with the results that are delivered. Today's workforce will struggle to understand investing based on how long someone has been in their role because they are use to learning rapidly and moving on to the next challenge. </p><p style="margin: 0.5em 0px 1em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; background-image: none; box-sizing: border-box;">Looking back even 5-10 years, the environment was different. Just as we study our external customer demographics and adjust marketing strategies to keep the customer engaged and loyal, we must do the same for our employees. Just because the strategy changes doesn't mean that who you are as a company does. It means that you are adaptable to an ever-changing environment. This is how you survive.</p><p style="margin: 0.5em 0px 1em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; background-image: none; box-sizing: border-box;">The future success of business today depends on our ability to adapt to how we invest in our people. The survival of the fittest will be won by the companies who are able to evolve. Employee engagement and talent investment will continue to be the biggest and smartest hurdle for every company to focus on. </p><p style="margin: 0.5em 0px 1em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; background-image: none; box-sizing: border-box;">Want more smiling faces? The first step is awareness of how you view people. Do you see your employees the way they see one another? Do you invest in your employees in a way that adds value to their experience? Align your view and act according to reap the rewards of engagement!</p><p style="margin: 0.5em 0px 1em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; background-image: none; box-sizing: border-box;">Remember, front-line employees treat customers the way they are treated. In a leadership position, your guest is internal. The next time you have a customer complaint (AKA disengaged customer) ask yourself, "what does their story say about my service to my team?"</p><p style="margin: 0.5em 0px 1em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; background-image: none; box-sizing: border-box;"><br></p><p style="margin: 0.5em 0px 1em; padding: 0px; border: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; background-image: none; box-sizing: border-box;"><br></p></div></div></div></div></li></ol></div></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBvPAOTdb67KF-Es65MpKA_R8J7Km_UHUoXXWgBW_0zhSRrJnVl-kL_sqxsOeoXx0OwDZl6o5QuI3IzgUGLhD5st9jClXg1sUKhWOZLRqX17UfkzXt3EXuYNH4lcMRKG5GvyAlwBrJ7Ps/s640/blogger-image-1175790671.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBvPAOTdb67KF-Es65MpKA_R8J7Km_UHUoXXWgBW_0zhSRrJnVl-kL_sqxsOeoXx0OwDZl6o5QuI3IzgUGLhD5st9jClXg1sUKhWOZLRqX17UfkzXt3EXuYNH4lcMRKG5GvyAlwBrJ7Ps/s640/blogger-image-1175790671.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXfXCcscgKyQ1qlXsd2kB1UkMAxLOw19JhJ-HknwYM62hTZlyMqbQIvi_9BpKldXyMQfIGB-PCgI6eTXSZegCKpVgaPekGPybPLXArahxMxWNXpOICaSbMvWW-_l36_5oWol_4Dp2eeQ/s640/blogger-image-772488041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXfXCcscgKyQ1qlXsd2kB1UkMAxLOw19JhJ-HknwYM62hTZlyMqbQIvi_9BpKldXyMQfIGB-PCgI6eTXSZegCKpVgaPekGPybPLXArahxMxWNXpOICaSbMvWW-_l36_5oWol_4Dp2eeQ/s640/blogger-image-772488041.jpg"></a></div>SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-31310081482388467172014-05-03T13:40:00.001-05:002014-09-28T19:01:25.005-05:00What Makes You Perfect?<i>Below is a short, poetic story to answer the question "What makes you perfect?" </i><div><i>I had just found a thread online where people were answering this question. As I was thinking about it the experience described below took place and I really felt that it was contextually relevant.</i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div><i>My personal philosophy has always been "don't let perfect stand in the way of better." Something 'perfect' about me is my conviction that we should each focus on and offer up our strengths to one another in order to compliment each other. It's a philosophy that I've applied to how I raise my children, to my career, and in the advise I offer up to others... </i></div><div><b><br></b></div><div><u><b>and so, the story begins... </b></u></div><div><br></div><div><div>Sitting on the porch</div><div>My husband and I enjoy a nice, cool breeze.</div><div><br></div><div>Suddenly the dogs begin to bark and</div><div>We hear a young girl's voice shakily speaking softly,</div><div><br></div><div>"Excuse me</div><div>my chain fell off my bike. Can you help me?"</div><div><br></div><div>I turn and see a young girl with such hidden beauty. </div><div>Her eyes were sweet and her smile was strong from what was probably years of fighting </div><div>through ridicule and "everyone is picking on me."</div><div><br></div><div>I quickly scanned her, trying not to let it show.</div><div>I didn't want her to know</div><div>I was curious how she had gotten burned alive from head to toe. </div><div><br></div><div>I caught her eyes, smiled, and extended a hand full of love.</div><div>To help her, we were happy</div><div>I asked "what's your name?"</div><div>She replied "Gabby"</div><div>"I'm Sarah"</div><div>She let out a breath of relief.</div><div><br></div><div>The chain had only slipped</div><div>A very simple fix</div><div>Showing her there's good in this world was well worth getting my hands dirty.</div><div><br></div><div>She began to leave and the bike was working well</div><div>Suddenly she turned asking,</div><div>"Do you know Israel?"</div><div><br></div><div>Warmth head to toe had begun</div><div>Holding tears I said, "yes, he's our son."</div><div>I've seen children burned and all sorts of grief</div><div>yet something about this girl was hitting me hard.</div><div>Hard to explain, hard to put into words... Such sadness & pain...</div><div>It was like I could see she was in some cycle of someone intentionally inflicting burns to her</div><div>Physically</div><div>Emotionally and</div><div>Spiritually...</div><div><br></div><div>Glowing, she says "he's my friend. Thank you. Israel is a friend of mine."</div><div><br></div><div>Gabby rode away</div><div>Enjoying life and a beautiful Spring day.</div><div><br></div><div>Emotionally I sat down, looked at my husband and said with resound</div><div>"Hearing Israel is her friend is such a relief."</div><div><br></div><div>Raising an 11 year old boy</div><div>no stranger to popularity</div><div>antithesis of bully</div><div>poster child for empathy </div><div><br></div><div>This is a measurement of perfection for me. </div><div><br></div></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrvWy1iHWQ2uendn0r8jlxe74f2nykQoOF_Z8ZJcNFBuQKMm5j7E8epM9CV2k_QjHFUql0pqludUODmyueOYuycHF_VQ1ECmJCx7rd6FZS4M7Ju0PVvngFIoIlVTQbpS_ShYe4G-rPME8/s640/blogger-image-1847618243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrvWy1iHWQ2uendn0r8jlxe74f2nykQoOF_Z8ZJcNFBuQKMm5j7E8epM9CV2k_QjHFUql0pqludUODmyueOYuycHF_VQ1ECmJCx7rd6FZS4M7Ju0PVvngFIoIlVTQbpS_ShYe4G-rPME8/s640/blogger-image-1847618243.jpg"></a></div>SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-4347233348706189732014-04-13T00:04:00.001-05:002014-04-13T00:42:46.350-05:00Harmony and ConflictIt's such a strange predicament<div>to be both adverse to</div><div>yet attracted to</div><div>conflict.</div><div><br></div><div>I don't mean to create it intentionally.</div><div>When I find myself in the midst of it</div><div>the greater purpose is to achieve</div><div>harmony.</div><div><br></div><div>We don't say what we think</div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">because we don't want to cause conflict...</span></div><div>We don't want to cause a stink</div><div>and yet in turn our need to keep the peace results in</div><div>conflict. </div><div><br></div><div>Misperceptions abound</div><div>and conspiracy theories are born.</div><div>This is when I tend to step in and</div><div>see that all of our masks are torn.</div><div><br></div><div>You see, we all have these animalistic</div><div>instinctual needs.</div><div>When our subconsious is hungry</div><div>it triggers us that it's time to feed. </div><div><br></div><div>There's something inside each of us </div><div>that is toxic for one another.</div><div>Understanding these hidden needs and</div><div>desires can help us to see the value of each other.</div><div><br></div><div>When our tensions flare up</div><div>this is our internal button going off to check in.</div><div>Instead of thinking the behavior is about us</div><div>try to put yourself in the other person's skin. </div><div><br></div><div>There is a hidden instinctual need</div><div>that isn't being fed.</div><div>Are you starving someone you care about</div><div>by what you have done or by what you have said?</div><div><br></div><div>The next time you find yourself having conflict with one another</div><div>I encourage you not to stay silent or to run, but</div><div>rather to sit down with each other.</div><div><br></div><div>Look at the big picture and read between the lines.</div><div>Sure, at first it's uncomfortable, but </div><div>I promise you that no one with die and</div><div>you will both be fine.</div><div><br></div><div>After you have broken through </div><div>the <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">conflict that has been the elephant in the room</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">for far too long between the two of you</span></div><div>what you will finally see </div><div>is that uncomfortable <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">internal conflict</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">is the bridge we cross to find</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">harmony.</span></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div> </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLYEjmsOixWfLtaUtELdex6aFjcDPnhNHMA65rYy5tF1zyNTUIa_33A_ttFtoZ2hpNQ2ahwXCu0FEF-NhwyaqDSoQFeu96fbRo63kNRvqigtzCVFSW_QYUltiz0x3xs7OhE9RhZlbY1rs/s640/blogger-image--1281528674.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLYEjmsOixWfLtaUtELdex6aFjcDPnhNHMA65rYy5tF1zyNTUIa_33A_ttFtoZ2hpNQ2ahwXCu0FEF-NhwyaqDSoQFeu96fbRo63kNRvqigtzCVFSW_QYUltiz0x3xs7OhE9RhZlbY1rs/s640/blogger-image--1281528674.jpg"></a></div>SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-11001952229331449752014-03-10T00:12:00.001-05:002014-03-10T00:12:04.476-05:00Life is a Complicated, Hot Mess!<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">I've always started the labyrinth at the end to not hit roadblocks. </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 15px;"><br></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">I'd win at pool: not because I got all my balls in, but because I studied my opponent and would line the balls up so he'd sink the 8-Ball. </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 15px;"><br></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">I did well on multiple choice tests. Not because I knew the answers, but because I'm a great guesser and could deduce what the answer wasn't. </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 15px;"><br></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">I couldn't tell you the name of the strategy to implement for proper change management and performance excellence. I can flip your company upside down and execute it without batting a lash, just don't ask me what that strategy is called. </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 15px;"><br></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">I get so passionate and frustrated when I see others in power make hasty choices. I feel powerless when I can't stop it. I battle feelings to decide if I should trudge on, making do with the pieces, or throw in the towel & shut down. </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 15px;"><br></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">I love people, yet I'm socially awkward.</p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 15px;"><br></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">I want to lead, yet I don't wish to be noticed. </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 15px;"><br></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">I want rest, yet I don't want to shut my mind off to sleep.</p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 15px;"><br></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">I love the sun and I love music, yet I have an aversion to anything too bright... Or too noisy... </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 15px;"><br></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">I'm vegetarian yet sometimes I even feel sad for broccoli if I eat it. </p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">I praise others for their uniqueness and imperfections. I remind others that low expectations are the secret to happiness. Secretly I'm a closet perfectionist and cry if I don't exceed my own high expectations. Always aware I'm not delivering my full potential.</p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 15px;"><br></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">I know I have purpose here, yet feel lost.</p>
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<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">Why does life have to be a complicated hot mess?</p>SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-70682932306445934702013-04-30T21:46:00.000-05:002014-04-19T13:44:36.820-05:00Life Lesson #1: Smurfs are Evil!One of my earliest childhood memories was at Hanna Barbara Land. I have no idea how old I was at the time. I don't recall any sound. This is one of few memories I have without it, which leads me to believe the memory is before '85.<br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I remember the rainbow as we entered the gate and children everywhere, smiling. My mother had given us the okay to watch the Smurfs perform live. This was a BIG deal! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">You see... our church proclaimed that the Smurfs were little devils, and they were evil. We were forbidden to watch them at home and had to sneak episodes in the basements of friends. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Today was special. We were on holiday and today we would watch the Smurfs perform live!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I sat knock-kneed on a cold bleacher in the hot humid air. The Smurfs took stage-much larger than I had expected. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I don't remember the performance, but I remember the balls of lint on their arms. I had similar balls of lint on my sweaters at home. This baffled me. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">How did their skin have lint balls? Did they wear blue sweaters in the heat? Odd creatures: Smurfs.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The performance ended and the Smurfs made their way into the croud. They greeted parents and patted the heads of children like politicians. I wasn't interested in meeting any of them. Actually, they creeped me out a little. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My interest: ice cream. After the performance my mother made good on her promise to treat us to Smurf ice cream. I could hardly wait!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The concoction that the worker scooped out was blue and sparkled in the sun. I imagined that the ice cream had magical powers, like berry juice on the Gummy Bears! It would empower me to leap across high buildings and halt evil doers with a single bounce! Perhaps it would change my size like in Alice in Wonderland. Would I be small like the Smurfs on TV or huge like the ones that lived in Hanna Barbara Land? Or, maybe... just maybe... it would turn my tongue blue! That would STILL be amazing!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I remember that first scoop of ice cream as it hit my mouth. Blueberries. The best, most amazing blueberries you could ever imagine. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">More! Faster! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">BRAINFREEZE!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Damn, brainfreeze. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Perhaps a little <i>too</i> fast? </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I squeezed my head with my right hand trying to stop the pain. Squinting through my eye lid with my left eye, I examined my left hand as my spoon dangled out of my lips. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My eye caught the corner of the metal side of the ice cream cart. I could catch my reflection.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I darted over to the cart without a care in the world. My heart felt like it was in the Indy 500 as it raced with excitement and anticipation. Catching my reflection on the corner of the cart I stuck my tongue out and squinted to examine what was in front of me. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Blue! My tongue was blue. SCORE! Suddenly the brainfreeze no longer mattered.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I paced myself to finish my ice cream. I managed to stick my tongue out at each and every person who walked past. Finally, the last bite. I savored it. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My eye caught the bottom of the bowl. There were words. I recognized the letters; however, I was still too young to read. I could feel my heart rev up again with excitement. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Did I win a prize? I must have! I won a prize! What could it possibly be? The checkered flag was waving.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Mom. I needed Mom. Mom can read and she will tell me exactly what I've won. Quickly I put one foot in front of the other, darted towards my mother, and pushed every obstacle out of my way. I cornered like a dream and was first to the finish line.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">"Mom. I won! What did I win? What's my prize?" I jumped up and down waving the bowl and spoon in front of my mother's face. Splatters of blue were flying everywhere.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Mom grabbed my arm, and the bowl along with it. She read the manuscript diligently.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Her face. I knew that face. I had seen it before and it wasn't a positive thing: eyes big with a look of concern, lips puckered trying to form the right words, eyebrows close together creating that bubble you get when deep in thought, and she had her head cocked to the left anticipating my reaction. Right was empathetic. Left was judgement. Hers was left.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Mom put her hand on her hip and pushed the bowl into my face. She was moving it in front of me as if to show me the words. I watched her lips and the world froze in time. What was she going to say to me? I was ready to read their motion. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">"Sarah, you didn't win a prize, see." She waved more. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i>This is the first memory I have of feeling patronized. If I could read you wouldn't have the bowl in the first place, now would you?</i> </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">"It's not a prize." She scoffed. "It's a warning. For parents." The dramatic pause.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b>"It says to not be alarmed when it turns your pee and poop blue."</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Oh my ___. My chest. I can't breathe. I can't even read yet and I'm having my first panic attack. Who does that? What type of people, things, do that to you? Lure me in with ice cream and promises of magical things and than this? No control. It's too late. I already am deathly afraid of going to the bathroom. I'd not pee for three days if I had anything to say about it. But to turn my pee and poop blue? Sadistic!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I could see my little sister laughing in the corner of my eye. I shot her a look that would kill, and she stopped. Oh, yah. I could do that already. These green eyes can turn into a monster like that. *snap. Stupid baby.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Mom always moved past things quickly. She was ready to hit the next area of the park yesterday, and I was still trying to understand what had just happened. Mom snatched my wrist and pulled me out of the arena. As she dragged me away my head was turned back. My eyes glarred at Papa Smurf with the death gaze. I know he felt me. I never would watch the Smurfs again.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">That was the point in my life that I knew for certain that Smurfs were evil. The church was right. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">As I've grown older and lived my life I still encounter a Smurf now and then. The only difference is that they don't always wear the blue sweater, but they are out there...</span></div>
<br />
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SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-61085854381758382502013-04-28T23:59:00.001-05:002013-06-21T02:58:05.151-05:00Who Am I?Category<br>
Label <br>
Role<br>
<br>
Role<br>
Label <br>
Category<br>
<br>
Society places these upon us.<br>
Why do we allow them to define who we are expected to be?<br>
<br>
I've never been comfortable in a box.<br>
Claustrophobic.<br>
I can't breathe.<br>
The sides feel like they are closing in all around & I can't see.<br>
Too many expectations.<br>
What does this all mean?<br>
What's society's perception of,<br>
of... <br>
me?<br>
<br>
Ethnocentric points of view.<br>
The world is guilty of using them to reference each of you.<br>
The fertile ground where bullies are bred.<br>
A dark, isolated place inside an ignorant head.<br>
<br>
The world places these categories,<br>
these labels,<br>
these roles,<br>
on the things seen as different than thee.<br>
The sweet little lie is justified with false belief<br>
that it helps us<br>
understand one another?<br>
<br>
But how does a <br>
category, label, role...<br>
How does this give you the slightest glimpse into my complicated soul?<br>
<br>
Imagine for a moment that you had to spend an entire day<br>
describing one another <br>
without <br>
categories, <br>
without labels, <br>
without roles. <br>
<br>
What would you say?<br>
<br>
Would it force you to look at people differently?<br>
Would it force you to see individuality?<br>
<br>
The absence of <br>
categories, <br>
labels, <br>
roles.<br>
<br>
And what about yourself?<br>
Would you then see your value?<br>
Would you recognize your wealth?<br>
<br>
No longer permitted to cling to <br>
your category, <br>
your label, <br>
your role.<br>
<br>
Or is yours a more frightening fate?<br>
Left wondering: Who the HELL am I?<br>
Standing there lost & confused in an anxious state.<br>
<br>
You aren't a category.<br>
You aren't a label.<br>
You aren't a role.<br>
<br>
You are unique.<br>
You are special.<br>
You are an individual.<br>
You are all of this in spite of what names for you society may call.<br>
<br>
You are not a category.<br>
Republican, Democrat, Christian, Atheist.<br>
You are a person.<br>
Unique.<br>
<br>
You are not a label.<br>
Gay, Straight, Bi.<br>
You are a person.<br>
Special.<br>
<br>
You are not a role.<br>
Husband. Wife. Daughter. Son.<br>
You are a person.<br>
Individual.<br>
<br>
Can you go for just one day?<br>
No identification tied to <br>
categories, <br>
to labels, <br>
to roles?<br>
<br>
"Tell me a little bit about yourself..."<br>
<br>
What will you say?<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_6LS8KI3rse1Q0Nz7IDs5OOawJtHv-mnpy7T35qG-PjljzU7PAOg91R-8vIvhkXJYcyHJFoNdV8CtlYZqCJGytdsu8yDeuswefK5B6T-IBMnR8royrwOIhyphenhyphen65vByaXRZOqitPRR7oLWs/s640/blogger-image--485428801.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_6LS8KI3rse1Q0Nz7IDs5OOawJtHv-mnpy7T35qG-PjljzU7PAOg91R-8vIvhkXJYcyHJFoNdV8CtlYZqCJGytdsu8yDeuswefK5B6T-IBMnR8royrwOIhyphenhyphen65vByaXRZOqitPRR7oLWs/s640/blogger-image--485428801.jpg"></a></div>SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-29625741909571897942013-04-28T19:15:00.001-05:002013-06-21T03:06:37.267-05:00Double Edged SwordWe are all talented people.<br>
Our talents are both a blessing and a curse.<br>
Double edged swords<br>
sharpened and refined.<br>
Blessing and<br>
curse.<br>
<br>
I love being around people,<br>
BUT<br>
I take them home with me.<br>
Not literally, don't be silly<br>
(although... at times I have tried, TRUST me)!<br>
<br>
Empathy is a funny talent.<br>
It's really not a skill you can learn.<br>
You are either born with it, or you aren't.<br>
You either watch the fire <br>
OR<br>
you can actually FEEL it burn!<br>
<br>
I'm deeply impacted by other people's emotions.<br>
I feel the tightness of their shoes.<br>
I feel his flat feet and her high arches.<br>
When you win, I am surged with adrenaline.<br>
When you fall, my knees are also skinned and bruised.<br>
<br>
I'm like a bug attracted to light<br>
when others want to share their plight.<br>
A listening ear, a shoulder to catch a tear.<br>
Giving understanding because I too feel so misunderstood and <br>
I know how to make your life so clear.<br>
<br>
You see, I love the fact that I can empathize with people<br>
but I hate the fact I can't pull out my #2, flip it over, and erase all the pain.<br>
I couldn't imagine living in isolation away from the world,<br>
but I also can imagine living life without it:<br>
isolation.<br>
<br>
Tug of war.<br>
Push and pull.<br>
Needing to be involved.<br>
Needing to be detached.<br>
Wishing all of my talents could learn<br>
how to interact<br>
with one another.<br>
<br>
Intuition.<br>
I have this too.<br>
So strong that at times my intuition is on overdrive in my dreams.<br>
Oblivious to my surroundings by day because I'm so deep in thought.<br>
Processing subconsciously everything my conscious missed at night;<br>
forecasting the future in my sleep while my thoughts are at rest.<br>
Awareness that all is never what it seems.<br>
<br>
Intuition is a wonderful thing when you learn to trust your gut.<br>
On the flip side it makes you prone to conspiracy theories and <br>
you can distrust to a point where you get stuck in a negative rut.<br>
<br>
I want to help.<br>
I'm skeptical about helping.<br>
Blessing.<br>
Curse.<br>
Tug<br>
of <br>
War.<br>
<br>
I'm an idealist to the core.<br>
I always have a hunger for something more.<br>
I believe utopia is in sight.<br>
Then reality takes a nasty bite.<br>
Looking at the world I see how perfect things could be.<br>
I want to teach everyone how to live in harmony.<br>
*insert Coke commercial here*<br>
<br>
It makes me want to drop all of my responsibilities.<br>
Nomad. Running loose.<br>
A redhead on the run searching to make this existence a better place for you, for me.<br>
It's not that easy.<br>
Bills to pay.<br>
I'm raising a family.<br>
Why can't I get paid for being a redhead on the run, <br>
making the world a better place?<br>
<br>
Push.<br>
Pull. <br>
Non-stop tug of war.<br>
Heart pulls this way.<br>
Logic from my mind pushes me down.<br>
<br>
These are the battles that wage in my mind<br>
when I'm daydreaming all of the time.<br>
How can I find that balance?<br>
How can I use this sword so that it cuts away the clutter of every day<br>
and doesn't cut you or cut me?<br>
What we have as we?<br>
Double edged sword.<br>
<br>
Unsettled.<br>
On the outside I'm cool, I'm calm,<br>
I'm collected.<br>
Inside, I'm<br>
(deep breath)<br>
unsettled.<br>
<br>
Something more.<br>
My life is meant for so much more.<br>
I know it. I feel it.<br>
How do I obtain it?<br>
<br>
I guess it starts with me.<br>
I need to figure out how to use this myriad of unique talents<br>
in perfectly synchronized unity.<br>
<br>
Until then I play of tug of war.<br>
Push. Pull.<br>
Both blessing and a curse.<br>
Eventually I will win this game we call life <br>
and know what my purpose here is for.<br>
<br>
<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjJAV6VlxeC_L6c9zKVQ_EQy6dVKwve8yegF8x8l8cHf3yYUw5w0edD0rIXavblL6k5hyphenhyphencfErhEIPsFqWW9YIQC1R8Nk5njqs_NDopfdEsTJKEEU8qq9yiib_3DkzBNBRX9b8SbdcvqS4/s640/blogger-image-1537992445.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjJAV6VlxeC_L6c9zKVQ_EQy6dVKwve8yegF8x8l8cHf3yYUw5w0edD0rIXavblL6k5hyphenhyphencfErhEIPsFqWW9YIQC1R8Nk5njqs_NDopfdEsTJKEEU8qq9yiib_3DkzBNBRX9b8SbdcvqS4/s640/blogger-image-1537992445.jpg"></a></div>SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-25828575467763330762013-04-28T17:51:00.001-05:002013-06-21T03:41:06.798-05:00BROKENWe are all broken people.<br>
You are no more broken than me.<br>
Some can hide it,<br>
wear masks.<br>
They think that no one out there can see.<br>
<br>
She puts on her lipstick, red.<br>
Polished heels, sharp suit.<br>
She enters the world holding up her head.<br>
Inside she is tormented.<br>
Mistakes present and from the past.<br>
A lost and lonely soul.<br>
Broken.<br>
<br>
He stands in front of his congregation.<br>
A pulpit, a pedestal, preaching to the crowd.<br>
He strives to lead with perfection.<br>
Inside his expectations make him drown.<br>
Practice what you preach.<br>
The mantra plays like a broken record, round & round.<br>
Broken.<br>
<br>
She sits nervous over coffee.<br>
Wanting him to like everything he sees.<br>
This is the first time they will meet.<br>
Being single at age 40 isn't where she ever thought she'd be.<br>
Inside her gut she carries baggage of a broken heart and being lonely.<br>
Outside she twiddles her bracelet and covers up the charm from her past love.<br>
He left her.<br>
Broken. <br>
<br>
He is always so funny.<br>
He makes all of his friends laugh.<br>
Years ago he was bullied.<br>
Now he covers the wounds.<br>
Bandaged up with smiles and deflection<br>
from topics too painful to sound<br>
into words about a broken youth.<br>
Broken. <br>
<br>
She sits with her toys.<br>
Wishing to get away from life's noise.<br>
Insignificance is a monster.<br>
It torments her from under her bed.<br>
She cuts pictures from magazines mapping out the day she will wed.<br>
Even at her young age<br>
she doesn't see how she alone will ever be enough.<br>
Her parents are too busy yelling at one another to see<br>
she is... <br>
Broken.<br>
<br>
He lost it all <br>
with one unpredicted fall.<br>
He stands with his cup<br>
asking for just a buck.<br>
People pass by, they don't look.<br>
He stands and wonders, "when did I become just another character in life's book?"<br>
Under a bridge his daughter waits.<br>
No guarantee of dinner on their metaphorical plates.<br>
Strangers assume he chose this fate.<br>
He cries out, "I'm no different than you!"<br>
Broken.<br>
<br>
Appearances are never what they seem.<br>
We all have a past and we all dream.<br>
Everyone has a story. <br>
Everyone has been hurt.<br>
Everyone is broken.<br>
Broken.<br>
<br>
While the world is full of broken people, <br>
all hope should not be lost.<br>
Our brokenness makes us special.<br>
Unique.<br>
Perfectly<br>
broken.<br>
<br>
Life is about community.<br>
Relationships with one another.<br>
If we weren't broken, why would we need one another?<br>
Take off your mask.<br>
Honestly is a sunlight you will love to sit and bask.<br>
Until your weaknesses you reveal<br>
you can never move forward and heal.<br>
You will remain<br>
broken.<br>
<br>
We are all broken people.<br>
You are no more broken than me.<br>
Some can hide it,<br>
wear masks.<br>
They think that no one out there can see.<br>
<br>
The world is full of people...<br>
Broken... <br>
<br>
<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTPNuzy3CLsWKwCCfagiy0_aSEdjJ_WaqPJ5IBpXw4oQq4amThkA7KO9Ml8gU-U_yIErv3Xt0nkSC8aMPj6nNI14g33USchCkRjDVnAx0UDk_P8q_6KBy9eATxl0IQv4B5brHTdIU09VY/s640/blogger-image--100726039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTPNuzy3CLsWKwCCfagiy0_aSEdjJ_WaqPJ5IBpXw4oQq4amThkA7KO9Ml8gU-U_yIErv3Xt0nkSC8aMPj6nNI14g33USchCkRjDVnAx0UDk_P8q_6KBy9eATxl0IQv4B5brHTdIU09VY/s640/blogger-image--100726039.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKFTLVdONEjrMvuK_TgUlE19kxeY0Xn-ock05t6S0HgzL7x7VqxbiOzpWZBrX6ygTUFId9Io3J4IAhEg9o_WqvlkLbSRib-A6v3Z3G83J9zSbHf6MeVMcqx01AWC0UJ3oh77MnUrOFYrc/s640/blogger-image--32377942.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKFTLVdONEjrMvuK_TgUlE19kxeY0Xn-ock05t6S0HgzL7x7VqxbiOzpWZBrX6ygTUFId9Io3J4IAhEg9o_WqvlkLbSRib-A6v3Z3G83J9zSbHf6MeVMcqx01AWC0UJ3oh77MnUrOFYrc/s640/blogger-image--32377942.jpg"></a></div>SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-68041052840142116492012-12-01T22:09:00.001-06:002012-12-01T23:59:32.056-06:00No ExpectationsI'm back from a month-long blogging hiatus! Things have been a whirlwind recently. On a few occasions I thought about putting my thoughts to key regarding what has taken place recently so I sincerely hope tonight's blog has been worth the wait!<br />
<br />
I've always had this personal theory about how God speaks to us and about how God expects us to act. To me this all happens swiftly and with urgency. That "gut feeling" that I get: God. I believe that God has an expectation that we fall with our eyes blindfolded and with arms wide open in full trust that He will be there to catch us. <br />
<br />
I've always believed in the old adage that what goes around comes back around; i.e., karma! I believe that if you focus on blessing others, with your heart right, that the blessings will come back to you. It's that whole "heart right" part that I have struggled with for so long.<br />
<br />
There is no denying on my part that one of my biggest growth opportunities has been to give and to love without expectations. I have struggled with this. I've wanted to learn how to do this and to give and to love with the right heart. This month God really tested me and my new found strength in this skill of no expectations! (If you know me you probably cannot imagine me even forming the sentence: have no expectations!!! Ha, ha!)<br />
<br />
On the third Sunday in November my family and I joined up with our Waters Edge Rider's family out at a homeless shelter for Veterans to cook a Thanksgiving meal. It was an awesome experience for us! While we were out there we were introduced to a woman.<br />
<br />
This woman, Missy, was not a Vet, but she and her husband had been displaced and this particular shelter had room for them so they allowed them to stay. Missy was in tears talking about how they had ended up in Louisiana from Chicago and her tale was full of traumatic events. She shared that she was pregnant and the baby was eleven days overdue. She had nothing for the little boy that was soon to be in the world, no money until the third of the month, and she feared that she would lose her son.<br />
<br />
I'm generally a cynic so when God tugged on my heart saying, "help them", logic immediately set in and said... "Really? She is 44, she doesn't look pregnant. Her story is a bit far fetched." But God said, "help them." So, I listened. I chose not to run my mouth with conspiracy theories and I decided to help them. <br />
<br />
I wasn't sure where to begin. I didn't have the funds to provide for a baby in a day. Shoot, I have a baby coming in March and I think we have gotten so much as a onesie!! "OK, God. I'm closing my eyes and going to fall back now. Catch me, OK?"<br />
<br />
Social Networking is a pretty cool thing. I put a couple posts on a few different pages and the donations came pouring in. I was in awe of the hearts of the people within our community. In 24 hours I was able to see God provide for a family with nothing. He took her from nothing to having more than enough for a newborn baby boy. Truly amazing! <br />
<br />
When I first moved to Louisiana I wanted very badly to work for a local non-profit that was devoted to connecting people with the right resources and to helping people with the right life skills to get on their feet. It would have been awesome, had this non-profit actually existed. It didn't. I thought for a long time that maybe there wasn't the need here like other places I have lived. Boy, did these past two weeks teach me otherwise.<br />
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As we were taking in donations for Missy and her husband, Terry, people were asking about other donations. Could we take anything else for people in need? My husband and I both agreed, yes. Why not? We have a huge shop that's just sitting here, over half empty, and we have the room. The experience put us into touch with so many other activists within our community who were dedicated to serving the city and who had different resources and talents. The network was falling into place.<br />
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Our landlord was so excited about the new venture. Next thing we knew he had blessed us with all of the wood needed to house the shop with shelving units. People came forward to donate time and labor. Shelves went up and donations poured in. Friends joined in as we sorted, organized, and awed. This all happened in less than a week! <br />
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Days had gone by and I stayed in touch with Missy and Terry. God was pulling on my heart telling me that my place wasn't to just dump these gifts on them and to run. God was telling me that the need was bigger than that. It hadn't been met yet.<br />
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By the Sunday following the dinner both Missy and Terry were being moved into a room in a house, away from the shelter, where their dogs could roam free and they could have a little more independence. They could have a little more normality. Once again the amazing hearts of those around me shone through, but God kept pulling on me, telling me that the need hadn't been met yet. <br />
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My husband and I started to reach out to the couple more. The closer we got the more we understood how dysfunctional their relationship was. Our concern for the well-being of Missy and for her unborn child were growing stronger.<br />
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During this time we constantly had an influx of donations and needs. The shop was hopping! It felt wonderful to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. <br />
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Daily I would ask Missy to go to the hospital. Daily she would tell me she was going to go later. This was an enigma to me. I couldn't understand why she just wouldn't go to get checked out. I had mentally decided that only one of three things could be happening: 1) she isn't really pregnant and has been living a lie even to her husband, 2) the test results may show that he is NOT the father, or 3) she is an addict fearing what her UA may show when she goes into the hospital. My husband and I felt frustration, but it was from a different place then where it normally would be from. We weren't concerned about all the stuff we got for her. We were concerned because we didn't know how to best help her. It just didn't add up.<br />
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Yesterday I took Missy to Wal-Mart to get some basic things, like underwear. The things that I take for granted. I was standing in line at the check-out waiting for the blow of the total: $87 and change. Not too bad, but definitely wasn't in the budget this month. It's amazing how God knows our steps and the state of our heart even before we do. When we got home that evening I had an unexpected check in the mail for $90! <br />
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Today comes and the phone rings. It was Missy and she was begging me to come pick her up. She had drama with Terry again and was again rambling on about how she had to leave him. The logic of the whole situation didn't really make sense. My "gut" was telling me she was pushing him away. People do funny things when they get scared. Missy is an insecure woman and I could totally see how her actions answered every question I had about the baby enigma. <br />
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My husband and I told her that we would be happy to pick her up, but that she was going to the hospital. No more excuses. No more resistance. Missy agreed with hesitation. Her husband was ecstatic because each time he begged her to go she diverted the situation with accusations that put him on the defense.<br />
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We took our time getting out there and when we arrived she had finally come clean. She wasn't pregnant. Missy had a miscarriage earlier in the pregnancy and her insecurities got in the way of her honesty. Terry had always wanted a child and she feared he would leave her if she couldn't give him one. Her insecurities and her fear of rejection had caused her to create an environment in which he would just leave her or she could justify leaving. This way she would never have to come clean to him face to face. I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if we hadn't been connected to this couple. Would this honest moment ever have happened? Would they have been separated?<br />
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Missy was so scared to tell us the truth that we already knew. I don't think she has ever experienced authentic love before. She only knew love with strings attached and love with expectations. The reality was that I had so much empathy for her situation even though I didn't agree with what she did. I understood it.<br />
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With all of that said and done we still refused to whisk her away. This time there was no running. These two needed to communicate. They needed to figure out where they wanted to be now that they both had an honest awakening of where they are.<br />
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Without even thinking and without hesitation I said something to the couple that even surprised myself. I told them that the baby stuff they had been given was theirs and it was up to their discretion what they do with it. I shared with them that there were several needs for baby boys in the community who were recently born or who were about to be born that we had been made aware of. I put the ball in their court to decide if they would like to bless another family with what they had been given. If they did, we were here to connect the right people to the items. If they didn't, fine. We would be in touch. <br />
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Then we left. We left and we went about our day. I had so much peace. A year ago, hell even six months ago, I wouldn't have had any peace at all. I would have been pissed to say the least. My perception would have been that we had been taken advantage of. I would have steamed about where the items could have gone and I would have taken them with me today when I left. My heart would have grown a little harder and my mind a little more skeptic. I would always wonder who was "really" in need. I was nearly giddy that this didn't happen. <br />
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I did it. I finally did it. I gave, I loved with no strings attached. No expectations. It felt really good! I sincerely believe that our steps are ordered before we take them and that people are put into our paths for a reason. <br />
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I cannot wait to see where God takes this new venture of our over the course of the next few years. If you want to learn more about what we are doing in our community or to learn how you can get involved, visit us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/SCRAPSlc today!<br />
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SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-71096964562256838532012-10-30T14:02:00.000-05:002012-10-30T14:02:09.328-05:00I Think Therefore I AmI have always been a positive person. I guess I was just born that way. My glass is always half full. There is always a silver lining. I'm always bopping around to theme music in my mind.<br />
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One thing that has been a facination for me is the human psyche. I'm always facinated by people's stories of hardship or depression. I'm obsessed with helping shift the perception that people have of their situations, to helping them see the potential within their reach, to stimulaing them to make the change! I love helping others to become happy, to believe in themselves, and to see a brighter tomorrow.<br />
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This month was a stressful month for us. It started off with a cancer scare with my husband and the joys of "hurry and wait" that comes along with all of the testing. Immediately after getting through that I'm admitted into the hospital for almost a week. I get out and then one of my husband's best friends who rides with us is in a motorcycle accident, air lifted in critical condition.<br />
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My husband's tests came back clear. I'm healthy, home, and feeling great. Our dear friend went from critical condition to being sent home with staples and a broken hand within hours.<br />
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My husband shot me a text today to pray for him because his nerves were shot. He didn't even know how he would function today at work.<br />
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My response? Glad you asked:<br />
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"The mind is such an amazing thing, and the power we give our thoughts over us. It's always astounding when you take a step back and realize how we let a simple thing, a thought, consume us. We stress, we fixate, and we physically suffer. Then... a simple shift of perception... and that stressful weight lifts off of our shoulders. We laugh. What you see as a brush with death for you, for your wife, and for your best friend... it could be a reminder of all the blessings we have in life. A reminder of how much we love... are loved. A reminder of how we shouldn't waste a second of this precious life worrying about what horrible thing could have happened. Now, quit stressing because at the end of the day... you don't get that time back! My nerves are gold, are you kidding?! In my book we were just blessed with three miracles in three weeks! Smile, Baby, I love you!"<br />
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Moral of the story: Your situation is always as good, or as bad, as you think it is!SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-5620560951517134132012-10-20T18:21:00.000-05:002012-10-20T18:21:18.262-05:00Death and LivingI think it was Benjamin Franklin who said, "The only thing certain in life is death (and taxes)." We all know that one day we will pass, and yet this logic doesn't make losing a loved one any easier.<br />
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Over the course of the past week I have had several people in my life lose an elderly parent. It's funny how death always takes us by surprise even though we know it's a part of life.<br />
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I remember when I lost my father. It was sudden and unexpected and there was so much I wished we had the opportunity to do, that I wished we had the opportunity to say... I remember learning my daddy had passed. I was pregnant with my oldest son and it was Good Friday. I will never forget that call. I remember my sister, Melissa, on the line asking me to sit down and to remain calm. My gut fell and I just knew, I just knew my daddy was gone. I had gotten a glimpse of the caller ID blinking that the Boone County Hospital had left a message. No words were needed. I knew.<br />
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That holiday was a blur to me. I prayed it wasn't real, I prayed that he too would rise on Easter morning. My daddy didn't rise. It wasn't fair. He was too young. He had a young son at home. He was too healthy. It was too sudden. It wasn't fair!<br />
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My sisters and I made photo collages of his life. That silly red Fiat convertible that never ran. Those rediculous tube socks he always wore. The lame jokes that we missed hearing. His writings. His voice. His wit. His charm. His humor. His fried egg sandwiches on Sunday mornings. His love for vintage military t-shirts. Our sadness he never got that bull dog. Our grief he would never see his grandbabies.<br />
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A couple of years ago my grandmother passed. I was particularly close with Grandma Love.<br />
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When she passed she had experienced her fair share of dementia, gerry chairs, and nursing homes. For years she hadn't been the granny I remembered. Alzheimer's had taken hold of her mind and her body. I KNEW she was in a better place. I KNEW she had gone home.<br />
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My granny was ill. Her body was shutting down and it was a matter of time before she would be gone and with God. I will never forget that call. I was in Manhattan with some co-workers on a beautiful July 13 evening. We were enjoying wine and tapas. My cell buzzed and I flushed. Once again, it was Melissa. She told me my granny had taken her last breath. I had been on edge for days waiting for this call, but it didn't matter how "prepared" I was.<br />
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I started bawling in that Manhattan restaurant with a table full of executives just staring at me. I walked for hours that night, dangerously I'm sure, crying on the phone and wandering Central Park.<br />
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Once again I found myself with my sisters making photo collages of her life. The kids she loved and nannied over the years. Her trip to Israel. Her undying love for our grandfather. Her home that was always open to anyone. Her love for her church. Her crazy diets. The time she was so mad at me that she wet her pants! Her Christmas card she signed, "Love, Crack Granny."<br />
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This past year I lost my daddy's sister, my aunt Peg. She had fought a long and hard battle with cancer. My aunt Joyce had emailed me and told me that Peg was in the hospital. It wasn't looking good. This time I was the one who called Melissa and Becky. There was no question, we were going to Memphis. We made it to see Peg one last time before she passed.<br />
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Aunt Peg was in pain and we knew she was ready. It didn't matter. We bawled in the hallway together with family. We sat in the parking lot and in the lobby talking with my aunts and my cousins telling rediculous stories of my aunt Peg's crazy adventures! RVing, holidays in New York, her horible sense of direction!<br />
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It wasn't long after returning home that we each got the text from our cousin Don. Aunt Peg had passed. We cried. We bartered with God. We hurt because of all the lost time. For months we knew death was close. For days we knew it was even closer. It didn't matter how "prepared" we were.<br />
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It's funny. No matter what we do (or don't) accomplish in life, in the end we have love and we have memories.<br />
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It's funny. No matter how "prepared" we are to lose a loved one it's not easy. It's sad. No matter how "ready" that loved one is to go home, we still hurt.<br />
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And yet, I remember deperately convincing myself that it was OKAY to be sad that my granny and my auntie Peg had passed. I felt guilty for it. I felt selfish. Why do we do this to ourselves?<br />
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What we have to remember is that tomorrow is never promised. Live each day to the fullest. Live each day like the last. Create some memories that will evoke a smile and a happy tear once you have taken your last breath. Live your life for something.<br />
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Should you lose someone close to you, no matter the cause, it is okay to cry. It is okay to be sad. It is okay to lose it and to break down. It is okay to be rediculous, to scream, and to laugh!<br />
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We only get one shot at living. Make it count.SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-82391801766981185502012-10-17T13:47:00.001-05:002022-03-23T12:52:20.266-05:00Organized Chaos!This week I went to my first city council meeting for my little town of Westlake, population 4600. It reminded me of my first experience flying Southwest Airlines: organized chaos!<br />
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Let me elaborate for those of you that haven't had the priveledge of flying Southwest. There are no assigned seats, only pre-assigned groupings. You huddle in a mass and board the plane and seats are first come first serve. The entire process leaves me anxiety ridden and everything is a mere blur, but somehow you get to where you intended on going. You get wooed into flying with them again by free snacks and no carry-on fees, but the experience leaves much to be desired. Oh, and did I mention you won't find their flights on any of the fancy discount websites? Another note: good luck finding a direct flight. Everything has a layover here and a transfer there.<br />
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My local government is a Southwest flight.<br />
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It's not just the wonderful city of Westlake either. I started writing this post on Monday evening and had to postphone my blogging. On Tuesday my boss frantically got off his conference call. He placed the phone down and looked at me with a panic look and muttered two words, "Organized chaos!"<br />
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Now, I laugh because this is a topic that had been heavily on my mind since Monday evening. What are the odds? Then, at that moment, I realize that there is organized chaos all around us: traffic, schools, work, government, volunteer groups... it's everywhere! Why do we do this to ourselves?<br />
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One of my favorite Franklin Covey quotes is, "Fail to plan and you plan to fail." The leaders of this organized chaos have to know the anxiety level of those who are trying to follow them. I mean, can't they feel it?<br />
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I really do value spontaneity, but it has it's place. I just don't think passing an ordinance to allow RV Parks within city limits is that place. This is something that requires thoughtful planning and regulations. You don't just pass an ordinance and then say, "Well, the good news is we have 30 days to figure this out!" But it happens, doesn't it?<br />
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What I can tell you is that I am going to do my part to put a stop to the organized chaos! If I jump into something it won't be with my eyes wide shut! I will do my part to lessen the anxiety level of those around me versus raise it!<br />
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If you are ever in charge of leading a meeting, I have some words of advice from my personal leadership experiences:<br />
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1) Have an agenda.<br />
Now, this can be taken two ways and you should take it both ways! First, what do you want to accomplish? What is the end result? We all come together for a purpose, so what is it? Figure that out well ahead of time, and tell us at the start of the meeting exactly what that agenda is! Afterall, we are all aware that you have one. This takes the guesswork out and allows us to really focus during the meeting! Second, take it literally. Put an agenda together! During the meeting, how are we going to accomplish the goal you have set? What topic will be discussed? What can I expect? I'm investing my time to meet with you so please make it worthwhile. Make sure you invest some time to plan the conversation for each topic. Even if the meeting is intractive you must be prepared to steer the conversation in the direction you need to go.<br />
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2) Stick to the agenda.<br />
If you have an expressive group that tends to bounce topics or to get off track use the agenda to stay on focus. Ask for ideas to be jotted down. Better yet, pass the agenda out early and ask people to come prepared to share their top two ideas when that topic is discussed! If a discussion point comes up that is not part of the agenda table it for the next meeting. It's okay to expect any discussion topics to be submitted prior to the meeting to incorporate them into the agenda. This should be an expectation!<br />
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3) Delegate and follow up.<br />
Never end a meeting without a clear call to action of who committed to what and when you will follow up or will expect there to be follow up. Always have a plan regarding who you will assign responsibilities to in the event you do not have a volunteer. Sometimes people need to be voluntold! Send out a recap of meeting notes. Actually follow up!<br />
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I envision that one of these days we will have a world delicately balanced by both organization and chaos... but no longer the intermingled organized chaos! Until that day happens I will keep my antacid and my anxiety meds within arms reach!!!<br />
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<br />SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-53827394513727065762012-10-06T23:58:00.001-05:002022-03-23T12:51:56.641-05:00Love is a Skill<div style="text-align: left;">I adore those moments when what you have always known suddenly culminates into words; those moments when your thoughts that you have been trying to project make linguistic magic. Tonight I experienced one of those moments. Some may call it reaching a higher level of learning or understanding. Others may call it an epiphany. Either way, I call it just plain damn exciting!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br>
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Tonight in my small group from church we dissected an old familiar verse:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br>
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love."</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>1 Corinthians 13:1-13 NIV</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br>
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">As we picked apart verse by verse, I had visions of myself and statements I would make in coaching conversations during my past life or of topics from my previous blogs. A smile came across my lips when it all simplified into one phrase for me:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br>
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">LOVE IS A SKILL! </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br>
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">A skill, simply put, is a behavior. This behavior is refined over time with knowledge and experience. To be really good at it we need to practice it. We need to make mistakes. We need to learn from them. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br>
</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">No one is born knowing how to perfectly love. Love isn't a talent we </span>inherently <span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">have. We learn it. We practice it. We get better at it. It becomes a strength. </span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br>
</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I've been working on refining my ability to love for a few years now. I should say, I have had a heightened awareness of my skill level and my desire to improve it. </span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br>
</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">All of my life I battled this perception of me that I was manipulative and that I was selfish. Now, I (of course) did not share this perception. To others I always had a motive. I always had an agenda. Nothing was ever face value. It made it difficult for others to fully trust me because trust evokes having someone else's best interest in mind. The best interest in mind was always my own, or so others thought. </span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br>
</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">What I learned, in time, was that those other people were right. I didn't even see it. You see, I have high expectations. High expectations for myself and for those around me. Without realizing it I was always giving with an expectation of gaining something back. Maybe it was performance. Maybe it was time. Maybe it was taking my side in an argument. I allowed other people to disappoint me and leave me feeling taken advantage of. I wasn't acting in love. </span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br>
</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">For years I practiced giving without expectations. I would look every day for an opportunity to help someone who didn't have the means to help me back. Strangers seemed to work the best for this! The more I did it the better I got at it. It was such an inconvenience at times, but that's why it was so rewarding. I chose to make the act a priority and in turn acted selflessly versus selfishly!</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br>
</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">When it came to my co-workers, my friends, and my family I found that day by day it became easier to give without expectations. I finally was able to shake of that manipulative perception others had of me, but it took time and it took skill. I changed. </span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br>
</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Each and every day we come into contact with people who aren't as skilled as what we may be at loving, and that's how we need to look at it. We need to stop letting animosity breed in our hearts, in our minds, and in our mouths. We need to understand that these individuals need some practice, and maybe a mentor. These are our opportunities to show them what the behavior of love really looks like. </span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br>
</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The Golden Rule, "Treat others the way you would wish to be treated."</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br>
</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This really means we need to put ourselves in other people's shoes. If we were them, how would we want to be treated? This isn't literally treat everyone in a way that pleases you. Where is the selfless act in that?</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br>
</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Remember. It doesn't matter how smart you are, how accomplished, or what you say. If you don't have love you have nothing. It's a balance! It's a skill we all need to start perfecting today!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br>
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</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV2ZlrF-9U_16gnR8TbjDCZ_FzpW044CI8cY2syOLR7lC4A-7jSHeQJea8uNScr89Yh2_1XA4qotAPPyYJCzp7TGIqXEURMBigCguVZnWH2s9WRtOCYBad0jICe4EqbNyoq0XLTRB4Fks/s640/blogger-image-844030199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV2ZlrF-9U_16gnR8TbjDCZ_FzpW044CI8cY2syOLR7lC4A-7jSHeQJea8uNScr89Yh2_1XA4qotAPPyYJCzp7TGIqXEURMBigCguVZnWH2s9WRtOCYBad0jICe4EqbNyoq0XLTRB4Fks/s640/blogger-image-844030199.jpg"></a></div>SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-79911289095523199782012-09-23T20:30:00.001-05:002012-09-23T20:48:13.414-05:00Perception: Pt 2When I was in college I worked as an aide in a nursing home for while. We had a resident there, I will call her Rosie. <br />
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Rosie suffered from what we called "sundowners". It was a form of dementia that sets in the evenings, around the time that the sun goes down. <br />
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Each evening after dinner Rosie would regress to her childhood. She would become anxious and concerned that her mother would be looking for her. She needed to get home. Rosie would fight with the other aides that tried to push her wheelchair down the hall to her room. They would badger her and tell her, "Rosie, your mom is dead. You are 89 and you are in a nursing home." <br />
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I watched as Rosie threw her head in her hands and hopelessly wailed as she was forced down the hall in her chair. She would cry out in confusion. She would get violent at times. My heart ached for her.<br />
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I cannot imagine what that moment must have felt like for Rosie. I cannot imagine how it must have felt to have the world as she knew it shattered by one heartless statement: "Your mom is dead." Her perception; her reality, all shattering into pieces underneath the wheels of her chair.<br />
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Rosie had to endure this emotional and psychological trauma every single day. I wondered how long it had gone on? It didn't seem right.<br />
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I stayed up for what seemed to be an eternity one night drawing, coloring, and cutting out bills that looked like money. I was determined to help my coworkers understand that for Rosie, we needed to share her perception and her reality versus forcing her into ours.<br />
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I went to work the next day and put a game plan into play. At the end of dinner I walked up to Rosie with a big grin on my face and asked her if she was ready to go home. Like clockwork Rosie responded, "Oh, no. I can't. My mother will worry and I must wait for her to come and get me."<br />
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I sat next to Rosie and leaned in. "Rosie, my name is Sarah. Your mother hired me to take you home. She said she was going to be out of town tonight and she is paying a few of us to see that you get tucked into bed. Look, she put money in your bag to pay us." I pointed to the satchel on the chair. Rosie looked inside, saw the money, and grinned.<br />
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"Now, Rosie. We must hurry. Your mother is going to be calling you at home to see that you made it back safely," I said.<br />
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Rosie agreed. I was ecstatic. We exchanged conversation up the hall and she told me about her dance that evening and the boy she met who would become her husband one day. She pointed out the window naming constellations, and shared hopes of camping one day soon. <br />
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We strolled past the nurses station and I gave a nod to the nurse. As we cornered into her room, her phone began to ring. It was the nurse posing as Rosie's mom. I saw Rosie grinning and laughing. She was so happy. I don't think I ever saw her this way before. She was so excited to talk to her "mom" and she was an absolute delight up until the second she fell asleep that evening... and every evening after that until the day she passed away.<br />
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My experience with Rosie has really helped me to re-evaluate the times in life that my perception may not be the same as someone else's. Watching Rosie that evening: her pain, her confusion, made me realize something. I don't have to be right all of the time. Sometimes it serves no good.<br />
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I mean, why did the aide HAVE to argue with Rosie? Because, the aide was right and Rosie was wrong, right? But, for what purpose did it serve? So, you are right, and now Rosie knows it. Do you feel better? Is there some radical good that will come of it? <br />
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The answer is no.<br />
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The next time you see that someone is wrong and you so quickly want to correct them, I ask you: what good will come of it? Will it help them? Or hurt them? How with shattering their perception, their reality, make them feel?<br />
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I leave you with a story I also used many times in my former career. The author is unknown:<br />
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A woman is in an airport, hungry! She dashes into the gift shop, buys some cookies, and stuffs them into her carryon. She exits, scans the waiting area, and chooses a seat next to a business man who looks too busy on email to bother talking to her.<br />
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The woman pulls out her book and begins to read. Hunger pangs her tummy. She reaches over and grabs a cookie out of the bag and eats it. <br />
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The businessman stops typing and smiles over at the woman. He looks at the cookies, reaches down, takes one, and eats it.<br />
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Heat flashes the woman's face. "The nerve," she thinks. She takes another cookie and eats it.<br />
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The business man smiles, looks at the cookies, reaches down, takes one, and eats it.<br />
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Now, the woman is heated. She forces her hand down in disbelief and takes another cookie.<br />
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Back and forth the two go. She takes a cookie, he smiles, he takes a cookie, and back to her.<br />
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One cookie left.<br />
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The businessman's flight gets called. He stands up, smiles, lifts the bag with the one cookie, and offers it up to the woman.<br />
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"The nerve of this man," the woman thinks, "Offering me my last cookie. MY cookies that he had no problem eating. Smug, ungrateful, pompous..."<br />
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She takes the cookie and rolls her eyes. She can't decide if she should say something, smack him, or bite her tongue. Regardless, by the time she looks back up, the man has vanished into the crowd. Names continue to roll through her mind of all the unworthy things to call him.<br />
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Her flight gets called. The woman stands up to head to the gate. As she stuffs her book into her carryon she hears a familiar sound of foil and paper. <br />
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She stops. Her heart jumps into her throat. Her face turns beat red. "NO," she thinks, "NO, NO, NO!"<br />
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The woman reaches into her bag and pulls out a bag of cookies. She scans the waiting area, the gates. The man is gone. <br />
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In that instant she realized she had been eating the businessman's cookies the entire time!<br />
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That's what it feels like to have your perception shifted. To have your reality change.<br />
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SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-47607237616908504282012-09-18T23:15:00.000-05:002012-09-18T23:15:39.700-05:00Perception Pt. 1PERCEPTION IS REALITY. <br />
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In my previous career I led a lot of meetings. A lot of them. Along with these meetings were a lot of ice breakers and grabbers. There was one in particular that really stood out to me:<br />
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<em>Everyone gets a sheet of paper. On the sheet of paper. I am going to say four different words. For each word I say, draw a picture of what comes to mind. When we are finished, everyone will share what they sketched.</em><br />
<em>Play... </em><em>Open... </em><em>Safe... Funky</em><br />
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<em>I would ask the each person, "What did you draw for the word play?"</em><br />
<em>Some would draw theatre masks, others a ball and a bat...</em><br />
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<em>"And open?"... minds, arms, heart, doors...</em><br />
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<em>"Safe?"... the literal: a safe, an arm's embrace, a home...</em><br />
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<em>"Funky?"... a hippie, music, a chicken...</em><br />
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<em>The point... yes, they are all the same words, but we all have different life experiences. When you put the two together, you get perception. While your reality of safe is a cold locked box, to me it might be an arm's embrace. Misunderstanding and our lack of validating the perception others have of us leads to conflict and to broken trust... </em><br />
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How many times have you said, "That's not what I meant by that." A lot a bet. <br />
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Regardless of how you meant it, that's how it was translated, and that's what you said.<br />
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Be willing to take feedback and to be warm when others are disgruntled with you. Is it always your problem? Yes, it is. There is always a way to prevent internal conflict! The best place to start is by treating everyone the way THEY want to be treated, not how YOU want to be treated!<br />
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Abraham Lincoln says it best: "I don't like him. I need to get to know him better!"<br />
SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-13825936169026133992012-08-25T14:51:00.000-05:002014-04-19T13:03:56.360-05:00America Needs an Intervention<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><strong><em>"I once saw a snake having sex with a vulture, and I thought, it's just business as usual in Washington D.C."</em></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">Jarod Kintz - <em>The Days of Yay are Here! Wake Me Up When They're Over</em></span></span></div>
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<strong><span style="color: blue; font-size: large;">POLITICS</span></strong> <span style="color: black;">have gotten so jacked up in America. I am absolutely floored by the number of people who say, "I don't know who I'm going to vote for this year or even if I want to vote. I don't like either candidate." Republicans and Democrats alike have gone too far. And they aren't the only ones to blame. We, the voting citizens, need to take some ownership of this crisis too. Afterall, we are the ones falling for all of the crap we see in the media, aren't we? We are the ones who buy what they're selling and enable them to continue their antics.</span></div>
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When I was younger<strong><span style="font-size: large;"> I wanted so badly to be in politics</span></strong>. I was going to fight for the people and I was going to make a difference. I remember the first office I ran for in High School: Future Homemakers of America Iowa District 12 President. (Don't laugh!) From there is was a state office. Now, FHA had some requirements to run for a state office. You needed to actually volunteer and be a contributing part of your community outside of school to even put your name in. It was so much fun running at the convention in Des Moines. When all of the officers were elected we sat in a room, learned about all the different responsibilities, and decided which role we wanted to take on. My choice was to be the Public Relations Officer for Iowa. I had the opportunity to attend education conventions, to speak at school board meetings, and to meet with Iowa governement officials. It was so much fun educating the public about our organization and writing all of the state newsletters. My junior year in high school I was chosen for the American Legion Auxillary Girls' State. We stayed in dorms at the University of Northern Iowa, and each floor was a community. We learned about government, received an understanding of politics, and ran for offices. There were political campaigns, town hall meetings, and senate votes. It was one of the best experiences of my life.</div>
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I entered college bright-eyed with a political science major and law school aspirations. Maybe I would be a governor. Maybe I would become a lobbyist. Whatever I did<strong><span style="font-size: large;"> I was going to be happy, wealthy, and convicted</span></strong>. Yeah, right! Little did I know that didn't exist. In politics you can't have wealth and integrity. In today's politics you don't have power and noteriety without compromising your values. It's sad, really. I didn't know what I was going to do. Who was I going to be? When I realized all of this, I was almost finished with my junior year. I didn't want to be another sell-out pretending to fight for the people. I didn't know who I was. <strong><span style="font-size: large;">I dropped out of school.</span></strong> To this day I can't say that I regret doing it. I was spending money on a degree that I didn't even know if I wanted. I needed to take some time to find myself. I was too young for this shit.</div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">I packed up and moved</span></strong> to Jersey City, about a mile off the Hudson River. After a couple of years of self-discovery I moved back to Iowa and entered the retail world. I went back to school, not for politics, but for sociology and for marketing. I worked my way up the corporate ladder to a position as an Account Executive for the largest prestige cosmetics company in the world. What I learned quickly was this: retail was not much different. D.C. Politics were there too and my schooling and my experiences helped me get far in my career. </div>
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I covered 23 stores as an Account Executive and over the years <strong>I saw a major shift in the retail world</strong>. Store leadership was changing. These past two years have been very exciting to be a part of. You see, when a company, organization, or person hits rock bottom they start to evaluate who they are compared to who they want to be. <strong><span style="font-size: large;">They finally have the gumption and the motivation to do something about it. </span></strong>Dirty managers were weeded out. Bad employees were let go. New talent, fresh talent was brought in. Stores got face lifts. The retail world has become a better place. <strong>Business has never been better!</strong></div>
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The retail world that I have been a part of has "gotten something" that our American Politics has not.:</div>
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<strong><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">The old ways of doing things won't work any longer. </span></strong></div>
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<strong>We need leaders who serve the people and that don't just blow smoke. We need leaders who aren't afraid of the real issues and who aren't going to pad problems with fluff. We need someone who isn't afraid to tell their campaign head to shove it, and will stand firm on being transparent. We need platforms run on positivity versus mudslinging.</strong></div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">I am sick and tired of politics as usual.</span></strong> Since when does every Republican HAVE to agree that same sex couples should not be married? Since when does every Democrat HAVE to agree that gun control is a good thing? It's like we are forced to pick a side and commit to all of these labels that come along with it. Then, we stand and point our finger at everything different, negative, and wrong with the opposing person. Well, I have news for you... that could take forever with any one of us! We ALL have issues. We ALL have faults. Who cares? Doesn't that make us human? No one is perfect. </div>
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One of my favorite professors taught religion and he was Jewish. It doesn't mean I love Jesus any less. It means he was an amazing and influential public speaker who engaged me and challenged my beliefs. If I ran for President, someone would say I was anti-Christian. One time I sat with my legs crossed and called it sitting "Indian style". It doesn't mean I am a racist or a biggot. It means that's what I had been taught and heard my entire life and I didn't even realize it was offensive until a friend told me. She knew I was simply uneducated and she helped me.<strong><span style="font-size: large;"> If I ran for President I would be all of those negative names. </span></strong></div>
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It's amazing how things like the above get so easily spun in politics. Take one phrase and you can make it into one thing on Fox News and another on MSNBC. We are so good at manipulating the truth and taking things out of context. I'm always amazed when someone takes everything they have learned in the media to form their opinions and to make their voting decisions. <span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Political campaign leaders really rely on our gullibility as a nation and our ADD to woo us. </strong></span><span style="font-size: small;">They use shiny distractions like racism, hatred, patriotism, and religion to divert us from the nation's real issues and what the candidates really stand for. Big money backs the future leaders of our nation, and it's time to end it. Nothing comes without a price. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><em>"Need money? I have money. What can you do for me? At what cost does your soul come? And don't worry. We have a great marketing department. Everyone will be so busy focusing on the fact that he is or isn't X,Y,and Z that they will never even see you are doing it..."</em></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue;"><strong>Sad, isn't it?</strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"> I imagine the whole selling of the soul happens gradually. Like drug addictions. No one wakes up and says, "I think I'm going to smoke crack today." It always starts with a gateway drug. One that isn't really recognized as bad even though everyone knows it's wrong. "It's just weed." But then, it's exciting and rebellious. You want more. Little by little it builds up. I mean, why can't you take money from this company and do a favor... you did it for him, right? Next thing you know you are sleeping on a church stoop with no teeth and all of this potential.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><strong>America needs an INTERVENTION.</strong><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"> That intervention starts with US. Next time you get upset and emotionally charged for what a candidate does or does not stand for don't bitch about it, do something. You want to see the education system change? GO TO A PTO MEETING. You want to see the streets cleaned up? GET THE NEIGHBORHOOD TO PLANT SOME FLOWERS. <strong><span style="font-size: large;">We need to shake off the ideology that the President changes America.</span></strong> He or she is our ambassador, yes. But does the President really change America? NO. <strong><span style="font-size: large;">WE DO! </span></strong></span></span></div>
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Am I telling you not to vote this year? No, DO vote, but <strong><span style="font-size: large;">don't cast your ballot uninformed and based off of what you see or hear via the propaganda of the media, church, or wherever you may be.</span></strong> Do your research and get informed. Decide what issues are important to YOU. Decide where our country needs the most help and focus. Find out where each candidate stands on each issue, and from a variety of credible and reliable sources. Don't be afraid to cross party lines, remember: only you are in the booth when you cast your ballot. A party is simply a label, it's not everything a person is. Look past the dog and pony show and really look at who somebody is inside. Before you cast stones publicly take a moment to make sure you don't deserve the same stone too. Grow up.</div>
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As the generations change in politics I wholeheartedly feel that <strong><span style="color: blue; font-size: large;">we will see a change and an uproar in America</span></strong>, and one for the better. We have hit rock bottom, and we will only go up from here. As Gen Y and X ages into politics we will see some new fresh talent and prespective. Old traditional ways of doing things and "business as usual" won't produce results and won't get us anywhere. It's time for the "doers" of a new generation to lead our nation into a better future. Until then: strap in, roll up your sleeves, and do something to fix what you can right here today.</div>
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SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-63015420445407362942012-08-22T23:45:00.001-05:002022-03-23T12:51:53.446-05:00Parasites Play Victim the Best <div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><em>"If you don't like being a doormat then get off the floor."</em> </span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Al Anon</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">I've never done well around people with a victim mentality.</span></strong> I'm sure you all have experience with someone like this in your life: those individuals who are ALWAYS being taken advantage of! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In a job interview I was asked once, "what is your biggest weakness?" Without hesitation I chimed in with, "I'm impatient." This is very VERY true</span>, <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and<strong><span style="font-size: large;"> I have zero tolerance for doormats</span></strong>. When I hear the complaints the first time, I'm empathetic. When a pattern is established I am at my limit and always seem to find myself saying, "so do something about it then!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Over the years I have come to the conclusion that there are some people in this world that get off on being a victim. They love the drama. They love the pity. They have some bizarre symbiotic relationship with this blood sucking person, and they are in denial.<strong><span style="font-size: large;"> These people DRAIN me!!!</span></strong> I wish they would just wake up and realize... Person A (you) needs to be used. Person B (user) needs to use someone. You are perfect for each other so just shut up and quit trying to justify your socially taboo relationship to everyone!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I have been so much happier since<strong><span style="font-size: large;"> I distanced myself</span></strong> from my doormat "friends". It was such a difficult thing to do. I hit a wall where everytime I would talk to these friends I would feel empty inside, like I gave them everything I had in me trying to problem solve their situation with them. In the end, they never did anything to rectify their "problem". </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Why? Because <strong><span style="font-size: large;">there was no problem</span></strong>. I realized that they were so worried about being judged that they acted like there was a problem! They assumed my viewpoint when in reality I was just reacting to how I thought they felt! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I believe wholeheartedly that <strong><span style="font-size: large;">there are two types of people in this world</span></strong>: 1) people who are <strong><span style="font-size: large;">victims</span></strong> and 2) people who are <strong><span style="font-size: large;">owners</span></strong>. Victims and owners don't mesh well together. Owners, by default, will always try to get a victim to own their actions, choices, and results. Sometimes the victim comes around. Often times the victim does not. If the latter is the case, the victim must be cut off before the owner falls prey to a victim's paracite tendencies. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I urge you to <strong><span style="font-size: large;">assess the relationships in your life</span></strong>. Who you choose to spend your time with should be individuals who contribute positively to your well-being. Stand up for yourself. Be vocal. Set boundaries. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When someone is constantly draining you with the same issues with the same person or situation there is nothing wrong with <strong><span style="font-size: large;">putting your stake in the ground</span></strong> and saying,<strong><em> "If you don't like being a doormat then get off the floor. If you choose to stay there, I don't want to hear about it anymore because then it's your choice. If you need help getting up because you are ready to put a stop to this, then I'm here. Either way I love you, and I can't do this anymore."</em></strong> </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">It might just be the wakeup call they need...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;"><strong>So, which are you: victim or owner?</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">And if you don't know which you are I'm here to tell you that <strong><u><span style="font-size: large;">you are a victim</span></u></strong>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Now, <strong><span style="font-size: large;">what are you going to do about it?</span></strong></span></div>
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"Definition of a victim: a person to whom life happens." Peter McWilliams</div>
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SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-33953159672549360682012-08-21T23:47:00.000-05:002020-03-15T16:34:09.149-05:00Calling Bullshit on "Religion"<span style="color: purple; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong>I've had this vision</strong><span style="color: black; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"> to write a book or to have a blog for a very long time. In my mind It's a journey of self-discovery, of figuring out this place we call World, and of understanding my place in it. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">I'm really good at procrastination, call it a gift, but I've finally decided to take this journey. My <span style="color: red;"><strong><u>disclaimer</u></strong></span><span style="color: black;"> to this blog is that these are my thoughts, my opinions, my enlightenments, etc. I don't expect everyone to agree with me. In fact, I hope you all don't. When there is some disagreement it forces us all to think a little more about our beliefs and about our personal interpretations of reality. Working through our differences helps us be to be understood. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana";">One value I hold very highly is that of <span style="color: blue; font-size: large;"><strong>HONESTY</strong><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">. I've never been that good at sugar-coating my words. Those of you who know me well know that if I am in a situation that requires dipping my words in honey... I don't say anything at all! What I am going to talk about today is a touchy subject and may hit close to home for some of you. If you can't handle that, please stop reading now! My goal isn't to hurt any feelings. My goal is to talk out my personal mind chatter in my journey to become closer to <span style="color: #6aa84f; font-size: large;"><strong>God</strong></span>.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana";"><span style="font-size: large;"></span><strong><em>"Philosophy is questions that may never be answered. Religion is answers that may never be questioned."</em></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Author Unkown</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">That quote is so true, isn't it? I think that every single one of us has questioned our faith at some point. Silently, I'm sure, because if we were ever to admit it or to talk about it we were shunned for doubting God. Fear was instilled in us at a young age. We are directed to take the preacher's interpretation of The Word as The Word, and to march blindly into existence. Why? Because if we question or doubt we are accused for lacking trust in our leaders and in God.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: large;"><u><strong>I call bullshit. </strong></u></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "verdana";">That's right. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I said bullshit in a blog about religion.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I grew up in the church at a very young age. I remember asking Jesus into my heart. I remember making the choice to become baptized in water. I remembered making all of these decisions and knowing that there was something so right about God, but feeling like there was something so unsettling with what I was being taught. <span style="color: red; font-size: large;">I was scared into becoming a Christian.</span> Hell sounded horrific, especially at the age of five! I didn't want to go there and I was told that all I had to do was accept Jesus into my heart, publicly, in front of hundreds of people. So I did it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana";"><span style="color: blue;"><strong>I knew God was real.</strong></span> At the age of seven I prayed for nights to win a Nintendo at my school raffle. I bought three tickets when my classmates bought tens, and I won! And when that game became an idol for me the lord intervened through my Grandmother. After a night of binge gaming she fried my Nintendo at 4am during a game of Tetris. There was also the matter of my hearing, or lack of. None of my memories have sound in them until the age of five or so. After some prayer and a lot of faith, I was able to hear. To this day I still read lips! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana";">As I grew older I began to question the interpretations of the Word more and more. I remember one night in a youth small group we were all delegated topics. The objective was to find a correlating verse in the Bible that supported the topic we were given, and to speak about it the next week. My topic: <strong><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">"Homosexuality is WRONG."</span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "verdana";">I remember searching for days trying to find something that specifically aligned with this belief. I asked for help. The direction I had been given was to quote verses that to me seemed to have nothing to do with homosexuality at all. It seemed metaphorical and I was met with anger when I challenged to take the bigger message or context or timeframe into consideration. It was at that point that I realized how much of The Bible was left up to interpretation. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue;"><strong></strong></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><strong>I know now that this was a life changing moment for me.</strong></span> I had such a negative viewpoint on everything my church did. When we were in need and I suggested going to the church my mother told me no, they wouldn't help us. That upset me. When they called "names" to the front and prayed over people during service, I saw it as a production. When we were denied membership to a church because my father smoked, my heart was broken. When the altar calls took twenty minutes and people were influenced to the front by way of fear I saw it as manipulative. When people were shunned for what they wore, what they had been through in life, or what they believed I judged the church as judgemental. When we were promised prosperity and checks in the mail, fundraised for a bigger building, sat through half hour tithe and offering fear messages, and let people starve who were in that very body I accused the church of being self-serving. When my sister was going through a tragic event we were forced to stay silent because we didn't want people in the church talking... I spit on the idea and said if they talk instead of love and help, they aren't a church at all. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana";">I know now, in my older years, that this was a part of me trying to understand. I believe wholeheartedly that <span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><strong>God was on my heels and in my heart</strong></span>. I believe I was feeling convicted and passionate for what was right. Jesus didn't change the world by acting in hate, inflicting fear, and judging those who didn't walk a perfect path. He changed the world by acting in love and forgiving the unforgivable. He didn't scare the unbelievers and he wasn't scared by them. He walked with them, washed their feet, and died for them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana";"><strong><span style="color: blue;">There are far too many "Christians" out there today who push non-believers and believers alike further away from Church</span></strong>. My experiences pushed me to take a ten year hiatus from attending church, and my heart was always feeling pulled. I continued to study His Word. I continued to do my best to live a life like Jesus. Did I backslide, of course, but I always got back up. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana";"><span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">I do feel that</span><strong> being plugged into a church is a neccessity.</strong></span> I am so happy that God has led me to where I am in my life and to where I currently attend church. Each week I feel recharged and energized. Each week I want to make a difference. I'm proud of my church and the eclectic body that attends. We are in desperate need of a new building as we are at max capacity with three services. Do we have a building fund? Yes, well, we try to. Last year we chose to give over $400,000 back to the community in serving the city. If someone comes to the door in need they will never hear, "we don't have the funds." If someone smokes they will never be told, "you cannot be a member." If someone walks through the door with a lifestyle different than Jesus' no one will ever turn away, but hug and embrace them like everyone else. That's a church to me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana";"><span style="color: red;"><strong>Don't be afraid to ever question what you are being taught.</strong></span> If I were a minister, I would be pleased to have someone seek me out with questions about what I am teaching in my ministry. It's not a lack of trust. It's a desire to strengthen trust. Don't let your mind-chatter cause your heart to grow cold and hard. Give your leaders an opportunity to open your heart and your mind to understanding and getting your questions answered. And if your curiousity is met with aggression, a lack of empathy, and an impatience for understanding, maybe it's time to find a different church. </span></div>
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<a href="http://www.facebook.com/watersedgelc">Watersedge Gathering</a></div>
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SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8387282121105557505.post-63204393791054812652012-08-19T18:33:00.002-05:002012-08-19T18:33:59.382-05:00How to Discover Your Purpose<div class="quotecontent" style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; color: black; overflow: hidden; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;">
<em><strong><span class="huge"><span style="font-size: large;">"All of us are born for a reason, but all of us don't discover why. Success in life has nothing to do with what you gain in life or accomplish for yourself. It's what you do for others."</span></span></strong></em></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: large;">Danny Thomas, Founder of St. Jude Children's Hospital</span></em></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large;"><strong><u>PURPOSE</u></strong></span><span style="color: black;"> Such a big word, isn't it? We all spend our lives searching for our purpose; our own interpretations to the meaning of life. I don't know about you, but I don't want to live this life without discovering mine. I've always had this fire to change the world! Funny, I know. Everyday I look around and see so much potential in everything everywhere I go. Every night I pray that others see this potential too, and that they bring it out. I've learned to filter myself because sometimes I get so passionate about "a better way" that I can be too much to take. I've learned to speak up when my help is asked for. Now, I am second guessing the silence. </span></div>
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One of the things I love the most is my church. Every week the message is influential and is stimulating. Most of all, it's about acting. For a driving personality like myself, this really pushes my buttons in all of the right ways! This week the sermon was all about serving. Our mission statement: Love God, Love People, Love the City. My biggest takeaway was that I can change the world. I can. All I need to do is find my purpose, and to help others while living it. </div>
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Our guest speaker this week said, "You will never change the world with all the money and notariety. You will change the world by serving people. Power and prosperity does not come by what you have. It comes by what you can give." </div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-size: x-large;"><strong><em>WHAT YOU CAN GIVE...</em></strong><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">This, my friends, this is your purpose! So I ask you, what can you give? What can you offer up? It's not about money. It's not about power. It's about talent, skills, passions, and time. What are yours? </span></span></div>
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I had this "light bulb moment" today as I was digesting the sermon. I went to two services in two days to really take it all in mind you! <span style="color: purple; font-size: x-large;"><strong>I know MY purpose!</strong><span style="font-size: large;"><strong> </strong></span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">I am not suppose to only pray that others see the potential and bring it out. My purpose IS to bring it out.</span></span></div>
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I felt silly, really, when it all hit me. You see, for years I have been coaching others to find their purpose and to live in it. Teaching others how to do just that. This is my purpose. I had gotten so confused because I was getting paid to do it, but what I always found was that I did it for free all of the time. Why? Because I wanted to help others. This is how I contribute to my little slice of the "change the world" pie. </div>
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So, I say to all of you... find your purpose. Find your talents, passions, and so forth. What are the things that you just love to do? The things that you gravitate towards? The things that make you feel a natural high when you do them? These are the activities you need to offer up to someone in need. Your purpose is to not look at where someone has been, but where they are and where they want to be. Then help them get there by offering up your very best. Change a life and see your life transform. Pay it forward. </div>
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<span style="color: lime; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">Now you think, <strong><span style="color: lime; font-size: large;">"S</span></strong></span><strong>o, I know what my talents are... now what?"</strong><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">Tell people. That's right. Tell people. It's not being conceited. It's not bragging. You are simply saying, "This is what I have to give. Who needs me?" Look for the need too. Get involved. Focus on one at a time. Keep it simple. Complete the need. This was a topic in the sermon, and I agree. I think that far too often we try to touch too many people at once and we fail to complete the need. Keep it simple and see it through until the need is met. Completely. </span></span></div>
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And finally... <span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><strong>CALL ME!</strong><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">Seriously. I mean it. This is what I have to offer. What I have to give. If you are struggling to discover your purpose, your talents, your skills, etc., call me. Maybe you know these things and you have a vision, but it's not moving. Call me! I don't care what it is... I'm here. If you need to be uplifted, listened to, led, coached, I'm here! I believe we all have a purpose and that part of my reason for being on this beautiful Earth is to help you discover it and live in it!</span></span></div>
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<em>This is my all-time favorite quote. I love it so much, it is permanantly inked on my back!</em></div>
SaRahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13482882101423472851noreply@blogger.com2