Communications 101

I found a paper I wrote in College in a communications class I had.

COMMUNICATIONS IN HUMAN RELATIONS

SCORE: A 100pts

Comments by Professor: Faye, I have so enjoyed having you in this class. I'm glad you feel it's been a positive experience! Good Luck! Keep in touch!!!

 My Paper:

As far back as I can remember I've wanted a good marriage. When I was young, it consumed much of my thoughts. I wanted a home where two people could live in peace and tranquility. I wanted a home where love could always be felt by the people who entered therein. A sanctuary where one could seek refuge from the storms of life.

The home I grew up in was not a sanctuary. Although both of my parents are good people and raised me with a good values and a good philosophy of life, I never cared for their constant yelling and arguing. I spent many nights in tears wishing the periods of peace would exceed the periods of fighting, but they never did.

It is this discontentment in my childhood that keeps me relentless in my demands for a good marriage. My husband never questions me on the subject of a good marriage. he knows I'm General Patton in the army of human relations. Anyone who seeks to go AWAL is shot on sight no questions asked!

After viewing my home and listening to my parents, Glade has a greater appreciation for his own quiet beginning. I am thankful he supports me in my fight for a happy home. He knows and understand my deep seeded fears and he appreciates my enthusiasm in tackling the job. He too shares my goal.

I think marriage is much like a battle! It has to be fought for everyday. The good ones don't just happen. They are built piece by piece and labored over. You have to be willing to wage war on the unseen adversaries that seek to destroy the heart of the home.

I believe marriage is the heart of the home. It is the main artery that pumps all the blood and oxygen into a family. It is the force that wills a family to live in love. So what do you do when the main vein gets a build up of marital cholesterol? You go in for open heart surgery and hopefully with the correct tools you get that marital ticker ticking again. With a proper diet and a balance of exercised love you keep your relationship free from artery clogging debris.

One of the first tools we discussed in class was Maslow's Hierarchy of Human Needs. The beginning and most basic of needs the physiological need, the need for food and water and the need for shelter and to be clothed. The next is the need to feel safe. Then comes our social needs. Finally self-esteem follows.

I believe in order for a man and a woman to have the kind of marriage where two people come to feel emotionally like one, both must be nearing the top of Maslow's Hierarchy of needs. Both individuals must see themselves in a positive light and must visualize what potentials lie within their reach. Being able to believe in themselves while believing in each other as well, it creates an I'm O---You're OK relationships, allowing for faults and growth at the same time.

There was a time in my marriage when I thought Glade was OK but I was not. It made our marriage rough and I was not fully capable of making the situation better when I was part of the problem. An individual who can never look within himself and see potential can never look within an added relationship and see any more potential that what he sees in himself.

My struggle to overcome self defeating behavior was a long battle. It has taken me many years to develop faith in myself. Sometimes that faith is severely shaken and I have to remind myself who I am. I honestly think the value of believing in yourself is the greatest value one can have. One you have to fight to keep.

I saw new channels of communication opened as I began to see potential within myself. Once I saw myself as being OK, I began to see my relationship with Glade as being OK. Glade did not change and our marriage had not changed. I had made the change and that in turn brought about changes in Glade and in our marriage. It makes me think of the statement in Fiddler On The Roof, "Every man must know who he is and what God expects him to be!" I know who I am and I know God expects me to be something. He expects me to take the potential within myself and develop it. Anything less would be a waste of life itself. I believe it was Henry David Thoreau who said, "How sad to live our life only to die and find we never really lived at all."

Not long ago, our fifth child passed away. This experience brought that statement into a deeper reality for me. I would have to say that this one single experience brought my relationship with Glade full circle. It made two hearts one! It made our communication interpersonal, gave it effectiveness, caused us to risk and to trust deeper in each other. It connected our grames of reference. We both see life in a deeper more meaningful context now. Even thought I would never choose to go through another experience such as this... it is the one experience that has brought the greatest amount of good to my life. It took death to teach me about life.

Now that you have an understanding of where this relationship has grown from, what about its future? One area I have always wanted to see come alive within our relationship is the area of communication.

I am very open in my ability to share and converse with Glade. It has never been difficult to confide in him. It is not hard to share my deepest fears or my deep concerns. I have always felt fully at ease with Glade. I never have concerns that he will criticize or condemn my faults or shortcomings. Glade is a very patient and understanding man; he is a gentle giant of a man. He is not tall in his physical stature but tall in my eyes in all those things that count in life. He has a good heart and I can always depend on him.

Glade is, however, quiet in some respects. For instance, he will come home from a hard day of drilling and he will look down and out and his countenance will look visibly dim. I will say, "How was your day?" He will reply, "OK". I will continue, "You look like you have had a rough day!" He'll comment, "No, it was OK." I usually have to open him up with a crowbar. Even then I only get the lid open a fraction of the way. It just seems that each time I try to engage in conversation beyond the weather I have to go into battle to get any kind of sharing on Glade's part.

I have asked him several times, if I were to never bring up the subjects in our life that need repairing now and then what would happen to our marriage? If you are waiting for a response to this question, pull up a chair and you can wait with me. I would like to see more communication on Glade's part, but this is clearly difficult for him.

Recently we were on the way home from an excursion with some friends. Some how the conversation turned to marriage. Several of the men were paying compliments to their wives and commenting on the aspects of their marriages that had changed for the better due to their wife's influence. I did not expect a compliment from Glade, but I was questioning in my mind how he felt about any of my influences. After 13 years of marriage I was curious. It was about this time that Glade made a statement that both surprised and hurt me. I laughed it off at the time, but all the way home I was crushed.

In all of our married history I feel I have made 75 percent of all the changes that have ever taken place in our relationship. I'm not perfect, but those changes were monumental to me. Those changes took untold effort and a vast amount of commitment and always proved to better my marriage.

All the way home, I tried to understand why Glade made such a statement. When we got home, I asked him why after 13 years of marriage he summed up my sole contribution to our marriage in one negative statement. To anyone else maybe it wouldn't have seemed negative, to me it was, and he knew it. He tried to skim by it but I would not allow any shallow musings. I tried to talk about it and he would not. This was the first time in our marriage I backed off and instead of pursuing the subject I said, "Fine, when you want to open up and discuss this, let me know. I will be willing to converse with you. If not, then we have nothing to talk about."

I was surprised when three days, nearly four passed and we were clearly not communicating. The general modes of conversation were present but that was it. Conversation such as come and eat, you are wanted on the phone, shut the door, etc.. Glade really tried to be friendly and act as if all was well. I was having none of it. Every time he would pursue a closer relationship I would ask, "Are you ready to talk?" Then it was back to square one.

It was a Wednesday and I came to class and we discussed defensive behaviors, when I arrived home all the kids were in bed and Glade was watching television. As I sat down on the couch he asked how my class was. I said, "fine." We sat a long time. I then asked him how long he would allow our relationship to suffer rather than discuss a problem. There was more silence. Then I was totally shocked when he began to open up. We talked about some of the things I had learned in class. I explained some of the tools to better a relationship and I shared some of my feelings as to why this statement in the car had upset me.

He finally opened up and shared some feelings that he had felt. He expressed some inadequacies that he saw in himself and he admitted that sometimes he had jealous feelings that prompted such statements that hurt. He said that there were times he wished he had the fortitude and the determination to make changes in his own life, and he admired my ability to see a need for change and to accomplish my goal. He also shared openly his inability to open up and that this was an area on which he would have to work.

It is interesting to look at the way we handle our problems now verses before our fifth child died. I could tell you that before our son's death I would have given Glade away before ever giving up one of my children. Now as strong and binding as a mother's love is for her children, I have grown to love Glade more. We have very few disagreements, I get ornery and so does Glade. He gets quiet ornery and I get loud ornery. He'll say, "No, I'm not ornery, and I'll say, "Yes you are." We will engage in this yes you are, no you are not conversation until Glade says, "Maybe I am a little ornery." When admitting defeat Glade always uses the word "maybe" or a "probably".  I think it leaves him with room to breathe. We are both stubborn people but I can hold out a lot longer that he can.

Given Glade's quiet nature, I realized something for the first time the other night after class. All this time I've wanted Glade to be more open, I think it is the way I handle conflict that closes him up. Growing up in the type of environment I did, I learned to attack the enemy head on. I'm sure there are times when Glade feels like the enemy and I, with no regard to that thought, attck. Before the battle has even begun, I have set up a win for me and a loss for Glade. The night we discussed our relationship so openly I realized I had set the problem before both of us and we sat side-by-side in the discussion. In the past so many times I have set the table with the problem in the middle and Glade on one side and I on the opposite, ready to wage war. This is no way to set a table. This is no way to present problems.

I feel like a light has come on in the attic. I am able to look at myself now and see how any individual would close-up under such interrogation I can really see a need to concentrate more on the problem instead of trying to prove I'm right.

I read a quote the other night. I think it's a powerful quote to hang onto.

"It's better to be one than to be right. "

Marriage is no easy commitment. It is however the most fulfilling commitment one can make. Nothing in my life has brought me greater joy and I have painfully learned the hard way, that communication becomes easier when you are more worried about being one and less worried about being right. Mutual respect, kindness and love are the greatest motivators in communication.

Happy Anniversary

I miss them both! They were married, I believe in 1942. Happy Anniversary to a unique couple. I love this old photograph. Their wedding cake sitting on top of the car. Priceless! Love you mom and dad!

Happy New Year. . . 2013

Source: happynewyearss.blogspot.in via Lisa on Pinterest

I don't know where the year 2012 went. Wow, it just went. . . and fast! I can't say I'm sorry to see it go one bit.  I have lots of mixed emotions and ponderings about the year 2012 and if I try to think back on the entire year and how fast it sped by, I just get all befuddled. Where did all that time go?

My blogging in the year 2012 took a major hit. Photography took over my life and I have no sorrow over that, even though it consumed much of my blogging time, I've never been happier about having a camera in my hand 24/7. 2013 is going to be no different. I hope to learn more, broaden my base of knowledge and take more pictures in 2013 than ever before.

I had my external hard drive crash in 2012 and I can guarantee you that won't be happening again. I now back up to three hard drives! And I've decided if I write nothing, I'm going to try to post more pictures on the blog. Although I do love writing. I love words. Yet, I find myself content to express anthems of them, silent and unspoken, in every picture I take.

Yesterday I cleared 12,000 pictures off my computer and onto my hard drives. Yes, you read that correctly, twelve thousand and that's not counting the seven thousand that are still on my computer and the three thousand that are presently in my trash. This year I'm going to print more pictures! Emphasis on printing! What good is a picture if you can't enjoy it!

Every year I choose a motto, If you've read my blog then you know come January I'm forming a positive statement, some kind of mantra to chant all year long. Yes, something to remind me of a greater purpose.

Past mantras have been,

2006- Just Do It!
2007- A thing done when thought of needs no more attention.
2008- 2008 will be great!
2009- Rise above it.
2010- Be Happy!
2011- The year of great relationships.
2012- Be present in the moment!

2013 is here and I have carefully been thinking of a direction to go in. At the end of any year, and just before the new one presents itself, I ask this question, "What is it I need help with?" It came to me the other day. It always comes to me. It comes because I believe whole heartedly in heavenly direction. I seek spiritual guidance and affirmation in my life daily. Prayer is a big part of my day, and I am always the receiver of soulful tender hints from a spiritual power that is not my own. I rely on this source of power heavily and as I chart a course for a new year I always see and feel in the most intense peculiar way a path clearly marked for me and in it comes direction, learning and growth.

This new year lies before me like a road that wanders off to who knows where. And I feel an urge to hurry a bit. No dilly dawdling along the way! There's not time for it. I've got things to do, places to go, and frames to capture! For Heaven's sake, I'm not getting any younger. I was mulling all of this over the other day. And in all this thinking, my head was filling up with all the things I want to do, so much so, there was no room for a single idle thought. I was suddenly faced with a my bucket list of important things to accomplish and then smack-gob right in the middle of all these musings, a thought struck like lightening in a fearsome thundering storm. Suddenly the idea flashed before me in giant letters, "TIME WAITS FOR NO ONE!"

That's it, that's my mantra to keep me steady on my course. I cannot afford to get caught up in things that do not matter. I haven't got time for it! I'm on a journey to greatness, and I have much to accomplish in this life and I seek to find all the good that waits around every bend in this road of mine. And I can think of no greater purpose than to focus on that which is important and spend my time there. Time is of the essence and using it wisely is imperative!

The other night I had this lesson reinforced in a most eloquent way. I was heading home,  traveling on the freeway. As I came up over the overpass I saw it. Oh, it was spectacular. The most beautiful sunset I had seen all year long. The sight of it produced in me flutterings of warm sensations that felt like food to the soul. It was filling me up and I was hungry for it! The sight was overwhelming in a simple sort of way. The sun was a brilliant ball of fire, swollen and round, heavy like I had never seen before. No not once in my life! No, no, no, not that way ever. And it was hanging like it was suspended on a string, a thin thread if you will. Yes, one that was about to snap. I nearly melted at the sight. The color was the most intense hue of orange encompassed with a golden state of romantic tranquility. Every ray was shinning with an aurora of homefulness. Just looking at it made me feel at ease, unfettered and calm. I wanted to pull over and sink myself into its gentle light.

It was in the middle of my mesmerization that I seriously started speeding, which is funny if you know me because I hardly ever do anything else. Now however the speeding I was engaged in was even astonishing me. I looked down at my speedometer and I was toppling over 90. I decided a ticket wasn't worth even the most lovely image ever captured. No sunset hanging on my wall could erase mass dollar signs and me sitting on the side of the road with pretty colored whirling lights. I took my foot off the peddle and grimaced all the way home. I was cussing myself for being stuck on the freeway without a camera while beauty and all her loveliness was sinking before my very eyes.

When I got home, I ran in the house, bounded up the stairs, grabbed my camera and bolted out the front door. It was no use. It was gone. Not one pixel captured. I stood there frozen in agony. I think I even said the word shit. I gave a heavy sigh and my second self started goading me. She was speaking now in her lecturing tone of voice, "Time waits for no one honey!" And I realized that was a powerful statement. One I needed to remember.

So many times in my life I've been ill prepared. I've waisted that which never comes again on some silly stupid thing only to realize later just how dumb it was to have spent my precious ticking allotment on that which is of zero value. Time. . . it waits for no one and you never know just how much you have anyway. It's precious, it's vital, it passes quickly, and you can't stop it. I don't want to waste it. I don't have that much left, not really when you think about it.

So this year I'm going to treasure life while I still have time! I'm going to fill myself up with the positives that are ticking all around me. I'm going to savor and enjoy each moment of my life, big or small, I'm going to enjoy them all. And I'm going to focus on the good and spend my time there. The hands on the dial are going to move rapidly and I'm going to be accountable for each hour.

Happy New Year. Happy living. Happy days and thoughts! 364 of the most beautiful happy 24 hour allotments you have ever owned. 364 sectioned of segments left to spend as you will. I'd tell you how many seconds that is but I don't have time because remember. . . time waits for no one! Today I am cheering. I'm happy to be here, with time on my hands to celebrate every breath I take. And while it is said that, "Time flies." I am the pilot and I must never forget that!

Blessings!

Changes To The Blog

This month I've been mulling over my goals and desires for 2012. I really enjoy blogging but it's always bothered me that my personal blogging is sandwiched in between my family blogging. I've long had a nagging feeling to separate the two. There are numerous good reasons for doing so. The main one being the size of the book I have to compile at the end of each year, so with that, today I make the separation. I'm moving my personal blogging to a new site.

I love to blog. I like to record my life. I also like to write and philosophize about it. I do it for two reasons; first it helps me, and second I have lots of people tell me it helps them. I like knowing I've cheered someone up, made their day a little lighter, and helped them in their pursuit to find happiness. And in addition to that, at the end of the year I have a pretty good journal.

If you enjoy reading the personal side of my blog, and you want to continue, you'll have to email me for the information of where to find it. Send your request to fayecrowther@gmail.com

I will still blog about my family here. And hopefully my family will blog here a little more. On my personal blog, I'm getting ready to post my 2012 motto and various other things. There I will blog about EVERYTHING! Join me if you're interested and thanks for being friends and visitors of The Crow's Nest.

In Memory of Officer Jared Francom

Some things in life you just don't want to miss.

When I found out they were asking citizens to come and line the entire 

funeral procession route, I wondered if people would answer the call.

Em called and asked me if I would drive her.  She just had surgery and isn't walking to good. Driving is still out of the question. I wondered if she ought to go at all. Craig, however, works downtown and was excited to give support to this cause. Em wanted to be there and wanted her children there too.

I didn't worry about how many people were going to turn out when Craig told us that there were more parents checking their children out of school than there were kids in school.

Everywhere I walked up and down Washington Blvd. 

There were kids and Scouts and at least a billion flags.

This was the sight though that made me choke right up.

Firefighters everywhere on both sides of the road and a

huge flag hanging in the middle of them all.

Every spot occupied a flag.

Spencer just became a cub scout.

He was so excited to wear his uniform and come.

I was born on the 4th of July. I don't know how I got so lucky to have such a beautiful birthday,

but it's one I treasure deep in my heart. I love my country! I have a thing for flags and

Red, White, and Blue! And I'm only mad my mother didn't name me Liberty!

I wore my Eddie Bauer full length down coat.

Even though it was only 34 degrees and the air was crisp and cold,

It felt like summer standing there in the sun with all those flags blowing!

I think I took over 200 pictures.

We lined up in the median.

Craig had a friend up on Harrison. He got the word the procession had turned onto Washington.

There were choppers in the air.

And I was astounded when I looked and saw what was coming down the road toward us.

A motorcycle salute is sacred to these guys.

I was overwhelmed. For as far as the eye could see, they just kept coming.

I snapped shot after shot and when I turned to look the other direction,

I was astounded at the amount of men who had brought their bikes.

I saw license plates from every state that surrounds Utah.

Idaho, Arizona, Nevada, just to name a few.

It really was incredible to see.

I was so busy with my eye behind my camera lens that when I shot photos of this fire truck coming,

I had no idea Officer Francom was being carried on top. I didn't realize it till it got past me.

When I saw that casket draped with a flag in the eye of my lens, I lost it.

There was so much emotion in that scene that I could not see what I was taking pictures of.

I just held the camera and pushed the button in hopes something would turn out.

Jared Francom was born in 1981. He is one year younger than Seth. 

He lived just down in Hooper. His wife and two little daughters are left behind.

I have a good friend that actually worked with all of the officers in the debriefing after this tragedy occured.

Some things in life cannot be understood no matter how hard you try.

Channel 5 news chopper followed it all from the sky.

It was a somber day.

 And I was not prepared for the amount of officers that would turn out to give support.

Total time I spent standing on Washington Blvd?

While one police car filled with people after another passed by?

Over two hours!

This K-9 Unit belongs to a good friend of mine who would have been at the scene with Officer Francom and the other men. That night happened to be his night off.

I was so proud of Spencer-roo. He saluted every car for two hours.

You are an awesome Scout Spence.

As the afternoon pressed on, I got this shot of Kate waving.

I love the light on her. It reflected the day.

Ali conned me out of my hat. You look cute in it Ali!

Craig and his co-workers.

The sun was beautiful on the flags and the sky was clear and blue.

In the end, I was overwhelmed at the love and support of so many.
It was a great tribute to one man who was just doing his job.
Thanks Craig and all those at Merrill Lynch who let us come and be part of their group.

Dear Santa

Today is actually March 10th, Gavin's Birthday. It's three in the morning and I can't sleep. This is the place I come to when my brain can't keep me in a state of slumber, a place where I should be at this hour. I guess I should be really proud of myself, at least I'm making good use of my time, right? This is what I call supreme organization ---I'm making a post for Christmas in March!  

I've been cleaning everything lately. This morning I was cleaning out files on my computer when I ran into this document entitled, "Dear Santa." I pulled it up and started reading. I finished in side splitting laughter with water spurting from my eyes. It's an excerpt from a book Dr. Laura wrote. Kaedell gave it to me eons ago. Dr. Laura is my favorite. When you get done reading this, she'll be your favorite too.

So to all the mothers in the world, from me to you. Merry Christmas! 

Dear Santa,

I’ve been a good mom all year.  I’ve fed, cleaned and cuddled my children on demand, visited the doctor’s office more than my doctor and sold 62 cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground.  I was hoping you could spread my Christmas list over several years, since I had to write this letter with my son’s red crayon on the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and so who knows if I’ll find any more free time in the next 18 years.

Here are my wishes: I’d like a pair of legs that don’t ache (in any color except purple, which I already have) and arms that don’t hurt or flap in the breeze, but are strong enough to pull my screaming child out of the candy aisle in the grocery store.

I’d also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the 7^th month of my last pregnancy.  If you’re hauling big ticket items this year, I’d like fingerprint-resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music, and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone!

On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says, “Yes, Mommy,” to boost my parental connfidence, along with two kids who don’t fight and three jean skirts that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools.

I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting “Don’t eat in the living room” and “Take your hands off your sister,” because my voice seems to be just out of my children’s hearing range and can only be heard by the dog.

If it’s too late to find any of these products, I’d settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a styrofoam container.

If you don’t mind, I could also use a few miracles to brighten the holiday season.  Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup a vegetable?  It will clear my conscience immensely.  It would also be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family.

Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is calling my name, and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door.  I think he wants his crayon back. 

Yours always, Mom.

P.S.: One more thing . . . you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to always believe in Santa.

(Dr. Laura Schlessinger "In Praise of Stay-at-Home Moms")

Musings

        Passive Aggression

little, small, tiny, undersized . . .

             shallow.

A word can describe.

Unspoken meaning between the lines,

Within the hollow empty spaces.

HUGE, MASSIVE, IMMENSE, ENORMOUS

                 SUBSTANTIAL . . .

Impressions spelled out,

Insignificant letters forming thought,

Constrained together,
Printed neatly,

Poised gracefully on paper.

Simply penned innocence.

               no . . .

An intentional blow,

Pretense cleverly arranged,

Not to be seen or proven,

Only to be felt --- deep in the heart.

A long overdue reimbursement

For past resentments,

Unforgiven failures besieged by ink,

Set in type.

A word can modify.

sad, troubled, hurt, sullen, downcast  . . .

           broken.

                           F. B. Crowther

  

It's four o'clock in the morning and I can't sleep. My mind will not stop. I've been up and down consistently while the clock ticks. Something inside of me needs to get out. 

I learned a long time ago when I took action and sought some personal counsel to help me with changing how I think and react that all emotion --- E-motion, is in fact energy 'in' motion. It must travel through us and not get stuck. It must enter. It must exit. It is when it has no release, getting all bottled up inside us that it does the most damage. Writing is my release.

The other day I had two interesting experiences. Actually I wish to note here that the day held far more than just two, I just haven't got the time or emotional energy to write about the rest of them, even though I'd like to. The two however that have provoked giant waves of thought inside my head and greatly affected my heart somehow felt interconnected. It is strange how they unfolded back to back, like enemies headed into a duel, pacing off their steps. And together they have produced serious musings, so much so that my skull feels like it houses a turbulent ocean. One experience felt sweet, while the other tasted bitter and left my heart hurting. Both have tried to mix in me like oil and vinegar. The separation is inevitable.

Perhaps it is at this point in my autobiographical expressions that I should interject, if you are going to live with humans ---in being ---you are going to feel pain. I suppose however that it is in those moments when our human interactions gain us a feeling of having been loved and valued, that makes experiencing the painful parts worthwhile.

The first experience:

I don't know where she came from but I saw her across the room. The feelings that rose in me were warm and inviting. I had grown up with her. Just seeing her there in the distance among so many people filled me with one fond memory after another. She . . . in my eyes held worth, value, esteem, and underneath all that my heart held love for her. She meant something to me. 

I hadn't seen her in a long time. I crossed over the room. She was crossing towards me. I wound my way through the mass. She did the same. Our eyes met. Soon we were face to face. I immediately leaned in to give her a hug. She looked surprised to see me. It felt good to be in the presence of an old friend, someone I had lots of good memories with. I couldn't wait to hug her. That was the moment everything changed. I reached in. It was in wake of the hug a sudden awkwardness took hold. It was quick and a little bit fleeting, but it was there and I could feel it. It was being communicated in her way of being. And it soon told me the value I placed in her was not equal in her regards to me. It was then I realized, she had crossed over the room to see the person I was standing next to. She hadn't come the distance to see me at all, I had just gotten in the way and I knew it without a single word having been said. When she issued her half hearted greeting and abruptly turned her back on me, I knew exactly where I stood. No words were needed.

Now at this point you might think my mind was just having a bad day and I conjured it all up in my head. I however had Deserey standing by my side, another set of eyes, another impressionistic heart. Immediately when we walked away from the whole experience, Deserey turned to me and was aghast. She looked at me and questioned, "That's your friend? How rude. Some friend mom!" I had no words to reconcile what she had observed. She had been rude. And I was hurt. 

I have found in life that money always plays a role in how people value one another. Our critiquing, our judging, our summations, they are all tainted by a temptation to combine money with worth. If you don't think money plays a role in how we sum up people, place importance on them and how it plays out in our treatment of them you are living in denial. Even when we don't think we're guilty of doing it, we do it. Everyone. And we can judge wrongly in how we look up or down in the presence of it. We judge wrongly when people have too much. We judge wrongly when people have too little. Even the best people on earth see money or the lack there of and respond ever so slightly. Watching this encounter unfold filled me with a million questions.

As I left the room I knew money had played a role. I knew money had changed my friend. And as I walked away I had to ask myself why? See here I am making my judgements. Does money make people less sensitive to those who have less? Does it makes us more critical of those who have more? Does it always have to alter and shape our perceptions? Does it always have to get in the way?

I left the crowd and Deserey and I made our way down the long corridor. I've had a few rough days lately and I must admit I felt hurt and devalued by it all. As I walked out the door and turned onto the street, a cold bitter wind hit me hard. I felt it on the inside and the out. I could feel the sting all the way to my car.  

 The Second Experience:

The day had been a rough one. I had other encounters that told me my value. I'm theatrical, dramatic, intense and I feel things to a debilitating degree. I am super sensitive to all colors of emotion, feelings, and overpowering thoughts. I also have a glass window in which I can see things in people others don't readily observe. I don't know if it's a gift or a curse, but I can see the unseeable easily in people and their interactive human workings. Calmness feels just out of reach some days. Everything seems to rush into me at high tide and if it ever gets the chance to enter calmly it still produces feelings inside me that are overwhelming. Sometimes within me it produces good, even great, most of the time it just gets me into trouble or leaves me feeling troubled and bereaved. My soul however seems to have a set of eyes some people don't have. Maybe it's my upbringing and how I was taught to read between every line. Lately I've been tortured by it. 

Most people are unaware that I have worked my whole life to try and reshape three quarters of my inner self and how I think. I have a library full of self help books. At points in my life I have actually felt like I was making progress. This is not one of those points. All my life I have worked hard on the very core of me. Lately I think I feel like I'm slipping backwards. I'm starting to think the older I grow, the worse I'm getting. And on this particular day, having already had a few bad experiences, my thoughts and my emotions were driving me towards a desire to pull up a parking spot right next to my mom. At some points during the day I just wanted someone to throw me in a pine box and throw sod on me.

"Life is hard and then you die." I say that a lot lately. And sometimes I wonder if my way of being doesn't make it harder. Sometimes I think God put a button in me and turned it all the way up. Sometimes I think my trial in this life is locating it and figuring out how to turn it down, maybe even off. I always feel overwhelmed in trying to overcome myself. Sometimes I would like to be one of those people who 'think" they have nothing to work on. Some people don't analyze themselves ever. And they certainly don't criticize themselves the way I do, or so I think. Some people go through life never looking inward for that which needs improvement. I know because I encounter them often. 

You might read my blog and think you know a lot about me. You might know me and think that you know a lot about me, or, you might not know me and think you do. Hell, you might know me and wish you didn't. What ever the case, you know nothing. And feel free to judge away! I'm an expert at dealing with harsh judgments. I think it's safe to say, you'll be wrong. We are so often wrong when we judge. I'd say about 100 percent of the time. I'm saying 100 to be safe. 

On the inside of my frame, in the back of my exterior somewhere there is a constant war going on. Yes it's very real. Take any person who knows me better than they know themselves and there is a part of me they still don't know or even understand. And I wrestle with it. I wrestle with this part of myself often. Perhaps it's that way with each and everyone of us. Struggling is very personal. And often we don't see it in each other.

I'm sorry my thoughts are being dispersed with no direction. There's just so much evasive thought whirling around in me. And I've been in a bit of a vile mood. So as you can see, it was on a day of waring with myself and all that was taking place that I started to feel worn right down, thread bare if you will. It was a day I wished I hadn't gotten out of bed. It was during the onset of feeling like a complete and udder failure that my phone rang and the second experience took place. 

The voice on the other end again took me by surprise, but the feelings in my heart rose up the same way they did during the first experience when I suffered my ill encounter with my so called friend. It was a voice I hadn't heard in eons. The minute I recognized that familiar voice on the other end, good things started to take shape and my day immediately brightened.

As I said, "Hello." There was friendly audible noise on the other end of the spectrum. I recognized the warmth and the joy of her friendly tones that flowed through the line. I felt a light come through the wire. This person has always been kind and generous in her heart with me. She's a positive soul, always happy and always complimentary. Immediately when I heard her charm and wit on the other end of space I was happy I answered the call. She had some questions for me and we talked for a bit and I found myself rising out of my murky disposition. Just before she hung up the phone she stopped. The conversation turned abruptly from being light to serious.

"Faye," she said now in a more direct tone. I just have to tell you how much I appreciate your blog." 

In response, you could have knocked me over with a feather. I had to balance myself on my chair. The minute she said the word blog my mind tried to replay her exact sentence. 

"Huh?" I said in a stupefied spacy voice.

She went on to tell  me about her relationship with her mom, and some of the things she had longed for but knew she would never have. She told me how disappointing it was. She told me some things about her parents and some of the strife they were traveling through. She mentioned an impending divorce and her sorrow in it. At the end of her conversation she went into detail about what reading my blog does for her, what it means to her, how it touches her. Her words were honest, sincere, and the spirit attended their meaning. Her words were kind, generous, personal and moved me in a way she will never know. I hope she's reading this sometime soon because on a day when I was feeling like I resided at the bottom of the dog pile, she didn't even know she was extending a hand to me, pulling me out from under my mental debris, gently lifting me back to a happier place. To her the compliment was a little thing. To me however, it was enormous. 

I want to stop right here and tell her thanks, I want to hug her and tell her she's wonderful for being generous with her compliments on a day I was feeling pretty low, I want to thank her for doing a little rescuing.

When it comes to my blog I have felt like giving up a million times. Always when I think I'm done with posting and writing,  someone, somewhere tells me in someway that I have changed their day, improved their mental outlook, bolstered them up and given them a feeling of worth. That one single word of encouragement keeps me here. I am always thankful for those who are generous with me.

I also find it interesting at how people who are having serious struggles in their life find their way here. A month ago I had an individual who I know well enough write to me telling me of how her husband is out of the home and the struggles she faces everyday being alone with her children.  She finds comfort here with the Crows. I'm glad. 

I am constantly reminded, all of us face our own mountains or maybe what seems like a mountain to us. We all cross up and over differently, with different people, different kinds of relationships and different struggles along the way. If I can ever give a helping hand in the crossing, I pray I'm able to see it and do so. It is so much easier to travel through life with a kind forgiving friend, someone who loves us just the way we are in spite of ourselves.   

Now I look back at both of those experiences on that trying day and ask myself where am I in the struggle?

All of us in this life are traveling through our own personal experiences. I don't know about you, but for me some of these experiences are really tough. I'm wimpy, so some feel monumentally hard. We are all travelers though. We are all different and unique in when and how we find our way. We are all headed in different directions yet often the same. We all have stressful trials and we all handle them differently. And even though we all travel through these experiences in life in our own unique individual ways, I think to a great degree we all seek the same destination, somewhat of the same outcome and I also think we wait and hope for those around us to help us in our journey. Who doesn't want a friend to cross through life with. Someone to be there with us through thick and thin, someone to go the distance with us.  

I don't know about you, but I want to feel needed, appreciated, honestly loved, valued and I want to feel worth. I want to travel with people who see the best in me. I want the benifit of the doubt. I want generosity. 

We all seek to have our needs met. We all hope there will be loving souls surrounding us to meet those needs. We all seek to 'get'. Sometimes however we are so busy focusing on the getting that we forget to 'give.'  I know I do this repetitively. I get so caught up in myself that I forget to see what's around me. I also know I live and associate with people who expect me to give generously while they are stingy.  I also have relationships with those who continually give and never take. And as I try to make my way through all of this I have two staggering questions. 

Why is it we can't see anyone but ourselves?

And . . .

Why is it we can't see ourselves?

There is a lot of pondering to be done on those two questions. how we can see nothing but ourselves so often and yet so often there are parts of ourselves we can't see. I really think in there lies all of life's frustrations.

Tonight I'm tired. I'm tired of people who judge. I'm tired of stingy hearted souls. I'm tired of people who would rather die than give an honest generous compliment. Why is it always the people who are closest to you are often the most stingy? I've even seen people who would compliment one in order to hurt another. What's in your heart always comes out. My favorite quote by Terry C. Warner, "Your face tells the truth while your lips lie." There is not a more profound statement. I'm also tired of people who expect much in me but little in themselves, who see stinginess in me but rarely see it in themselves. Maybe tonight I just miss my mother. I know I wish I would have been more complimentary and more unselfish with her. All of this makes me look inward. Tomorrow I'll wish I hadn't written this. 

My thoughts take me to a small conclusion in all of this ruminating and rambling. That in my hope and desire to feel valued and loved, I must work to give more of what I hope to gain. And to take my focus that often points inward and turn it outward. I am reminded tonight to center my sights on the joy of giving rather than the need of getting. I must come to see and value that above all else. I really know deep inside when we struggle the best thing we can do is get out and help someone in need. It is when we stop focusing on ourselves and focus on others that our problems seem to shrink in size. 

It is easy to be selfish. It is hard to forget one's self and be more in tune with the needs of those around us. 

Well it is the essence of Christmas ---the giving. And I'm glad while traveling through a little turmoil this past week that I've been reminded of it. It is better to give than to receive and tomorrow is a new day fresh with no mistakes in it, a chance to apply what I've learned and become a reflection of what I hope to see in others.

I stop there.

You know your wife's a photographer when ....

She'd rather hold her bulky camera, than hold hands with you.

On a romantic date, you’ll watch the sun go down and think “Wow this is gorgeous” and she’ll go “mirror lock, plant a tripod, stop down to f/8 at 1/125.”

If you’re taking a walk outside and you come across some “interesting light” she will make you sit/stand/pose in public so that she can take a photo.

You’ll never get to enjoy freshly cooked meals because she'll spend 15 minutes taking photos, 20 variations of the same dish with her iPhone.

She gets angry every time your friends come up to her and say “I am interested in photography, can you recommend a good camera for me?  Nothing professional I just want to take pretty pictures.”

When you think she's giving you her undivided attention, she's really wondering how she can fix you with a little Clone Tool and Patch Tool.

She drops $1,000+ on new glass rather than just buying stuff like a new pair of pants or a new pair shoes, stuff normal women spend money on.

You can’t take a photo with her without her taking at least five more.

If you ask her if you look fat she'll say, "Don't worry, I can photoshop you later."

You feel like maybe the only real relationship she's in is with her computer.

She won’t return your calls or text messages, because she's too busy posting pictures on her photography blog.

Everything is watermarked.

She always want to color correct you!

She hates rainbows, especially ones spinning in a circle.

For a date she likes trespassing into old abandoned buildings filled with health hazards.

She always want to show you a new photo she took, but she doesn't really care if you like it or not.

Bright, sunny days make her sad, but cloudy, overcast days are apparently great!

She wants you to take her to places that have “culture” as well a high chance of getting mugged.

Your birthday present will be a portrait that she's taken of you.

You can’t go anywhere new without her stopping to take a photo of everything and anything.

She will always bug you to be a test subject.

Nothing can ever be naturally pretty, everything must be fixed in Photoshop.

Always bringing her camera along means, bringing 50lbs of equipment, plus you have to pack her purse.

If you break any of her things on accident, it costs you thousands of dollars.

You can’t get her a birthday/Christmas present without spending a small fortune because anything having to do with photography costs an arm and a leg.

She's become a natural hoarder, collecting and keeping piles of old newspapers, packaging, magazines, and other things that “inspire” her.

She has hard drives of photos, but rarely prints an image.

She is secretly judging your creativity.

If you’re ever in 'auto' mode with your own camera, she laughs and makes fun of you.


And last but not least . . . 

The only thing she deems orgasmic is finding great light!

In honor of the man I love!

Thanks for putting up with me dear!!!

Click!