Spontaneous Inspiration

     Sometimes, being a person and feeling the crazy shift in feelings that we people feel is great. Going from zero to insanely inspired is a beautiful thing and I believe that it's a significant miracle. Though as I write this, aren't all miracles significant? Of course...I just think we don't often see them for what they are. I'll blog about that another day.
     I've been noticing inspiration so much more in my daily life. The thing that I noticed is that more often than not, it comes screaming out of nowhere and hits the person square in the face. It's fantastic.
     I saw spontaneous inspiration happen on a street corner in downtown Tulsa this past weekend. I watched in awe as a grown man and my two kids were absolutely creatively inflamed by a group of street musicians. I loved the light in their eyes and the animated way in which they spoke to the band members. I loved seeing the connection between strangers. I loved the crazy energy that stuck with the 3 of them for the rest of the night. They were inspired. It was beautiful.
     I love getting texted pictures of amazing typography that my friend suddenly does at work in the middle of the night.I love it when that friend shows me new art books or a new project; he is alive and in the act of celebrating that fact. I love when my long distance foodie friend comes up with mind blowing culinary ideas. Yesterday, we texted about grilled cheese and how to make it extraordinary. I thought...and talked...about grilled cheese for the rest of the evening. Thinking about cheese and bread can actually set my brain on fire. I love that.
     I am fascinated in all the things and all the ways in and by which a person can be moved. This past Saturday, I did my first hike with 3 beautiful and extraordinary women. I am still so touched by the experience. Being out in nature and climbing over and around scary, dirty, pointy stuff brings these women to life! You wanna see art? That's art! Watching a strong, confident woman negotiate a trail with the threat of a wild thing coming out of a bush and biting her on the butt, is the same as viewing any masterpiece. Take that, Picasso.
     I saw inspiration yesterday as I watched my church leaders address the world from Salt Lake City. The leaders were inspired. The worldwide audience was inspired, and once again, there was that mad connection that is a blessing to see.
     I love that inspiration strikes exactly when we need it, as it can completely change our mood. I loved driving down the turnpike and feeling inspired to write a blog post about inspiration. And I want you to know that as I sit here in my pajamas, huddled up under a blanket, with my wretched little crapbombing dog at my feet, I feel excited and happy. In this moment, words are my best friend.
     What inspires you? Art? Music?: Animals? Dance? Food? Gluten free cooking? Car races? Essential oils? Knitting? Physical exertion? Clothing? Make up? Numbers? What is it? What sets your brain on fire and makes your heart beat faster? What is that thing that momentarily makes you forget that your boss is an assclown and your car payment is late? Identify that thing and do it. A lot. You owe it to yourself; you owe it to the people who love you.
We are our best self when we are inspired.

                                                            Does It Matter?



     Why is it that folks have to rob people of a perfectly miserable feeling? Why is it that if I'm angry and frustrated, you must hold me down and forcibly blow sunshine up my backside?
     People do that. They do it all the time. Lately, it's been happening every day.

     Allow me to explain.

     I am divorced. I am divorced from a selfish, unkind, lazy crap-weasel who can't manage his own life or co parent our children. I'm not over dramatizing this. Is it right for me to put this out in a public forum? Absolutely not. Do I care any more? Absolutely not.

     Most recently, and as my illness has gotten worse, my ex has decided that in the event of my death, another person (with whom I have no blood or romantic ties), should have guardianship of our kids. If you don't think that that sucks, then you suck. As I have dealt with my anger, I have stated that I wish I had never met him. It's true. Where's the Blue Genie when you need him? Almost every time I say this, some well meaning person "lovingly" chastises me and informs me that I couldn't have my beautiful kids without him. I am often forced to sit through long lectures on how that brain dead ass-jerk was required in order for me to have my kids.

    You know what? Maybe that's true. And maybe it's not. And for damn sure, it doesn't matter. IT DOESN'T FREAKING MATTER! If wishing that I'd been run over by a car instead of meeting that fool makes me feel better, why can't I wish that? Why do you care?Hating him doesn't mean I hate my kids. Wanting him to prove that the planet is flat by stepping off of the edge of it doesn't make me an unloving mom. I'm angry. I'm angry for me. I'm more angry for my kids. I'm angry for him because he used to not suck and people used to like him.

     I wish I never met him.

     I wish that on our second date, when he said " I have made the conscious decision to not have children", I had believed him. I wish I would have moved on. I wish that when he was cruel and unkind to me 45 minutes into our wedding reception, I would have walked away and annulled the whole damn thing.
Why does that bother you? Why does it matter? Why can't you please just remove your sunshine from my butt?