Joyce M. Stacks's Blog: A Day In The Life of an Aspiring Author .....

I have a theory – unscientific though it may be – most typically sane and somewhat normal people fit into one of two categories …. those who prefer cats and those who must love dogs. Similarly as a designer, I have also developed a compatible theory about color – those who gravitate toward the green family and those who sang according to the blues – green people tend to be more physically active, outdoorsy, ambitious and even driven by nature. Conversely, they are also more prone to mood swings and flights of fancy while blue people have for the most part successfully managed to pass through that phase and arrived at a place of greater serenity, where they are more settled and thus feel more confident in who they are as human beings. As a result, they naturally lean towards passivity rather than aggression. More reflective and studious by nature, they have developed stronger decision-making capabilities, which can make for the ideal client/designer relationship should you be fortunate to forge a relationship with a designer who recognizes exactly where you currently reside with respect to your color choices and why. Depending upon where you are on the scale of your own life experience, it is entirely possible you have already evolved from one color spectrum to the next, and if so you might be looking around you to discover your surroundings suddenly feel outdated, because they no longer suit your personality …. but I digress.

When it comes to our domesticated animal preferences, I’ve never really met the person who resembled their pet – or vice versa – however, I do firmly believe there’s a science at play behind the choices we make when it comes to our pets. While dog people tend to be much more magnanimous, out-going and extroverted in their overall demeanor, they – like their pets – tend to be the people-pleasers, destined to crave – if not downright need – the love and adoration of those they serve. Thus when praise is withheld or when they’re being scolded for having committed an error, they immediately drop their glance and assume a non-aggressive position, exhibiting visible signs of remorse in the form of an apology. Therefore, maintaining the constant approval of those they care most about most is vital to their feelings of well-being, making it stand to reason that neglect in any form is perceived as abuse.

Unfortunately, unlike their feline counterparts, dogs – like dog people – will stay. Ever hopeful of securing the approval they so covet, they will endure mistreatment over and over again, retreating only during brief interludes to lick the wounds they receive in the process. Perhaps that’s why we love them …. because they not only accept who we are as human beings, they refuse to stand in judgment when it comes to our shortcomings. They don’t care if we’ve had a bad day or if we look dreadful from having been ill. They draw their happiness from being near and have thus been known to grieve themselves to death upon losing their master.

The same simply doesn’t apply to cats or cat people. Cats – unlike their canine counterparts – make you work for their love and affection, therefore cat people are what I consider high maintenance. Never quite satisfied with where they are in relationships, they always want more, and when they feel the slightest bit neglected, they will exhibit their displeasure in any number of adverse reactions from relieving themselves inappropriately to abandoning their home altogether in order to opt for another.

They are best known for two things …. extreme narcissism – in that they are mainly concerned with either eating or grooming – and absolute independence. They do not seek to please, but rather expect to be catered to on a continuing basis. On the plus side, they are highly intelligent, as well as accomplished hunters and survivalist, even going to the effort of laying their prey at your doorstep as if to say, “There, see what I’ve done?”

Don’t get me wrong. I am not damning cats. Having been born on August 12th, I am a Leo, and as such my astrological sign is represented by none other than the regal lion, king of the jungle, which probably explains my natural tendency toward leadership, undying loyalty and fierce protectiveness. Like the cat, I am fastidiously neat, organized and into personal grooming. I don’t suffer fools very well, and I don’t expect to please all the people all of the time - and in terms of those I can’t possibly make happy - well let’s just say they don’t rate at the top of my list; however, I will ambivalently tolerate those that I must.

In terms of survival, I guess it’s fair to say I have survived my fair share of life’s ups and downs to the point that of late I feel as though I must be nearing my 9th life. On the heels of a recent break-up, I have found myself – much to my displeasure – behaving very doglike in my reaction. Through months of neglect I have remained loyal, even steadfast in my pledge to remain faithful and true, to the point that it became mentally and physically debilitating …. and still I hung around, waiting for the approval, the validation that never came – or that came in brief spurts designed to instill false hope before quickly returning to status quo.

Yesterday was a bad day …. at my lowest point, I remained motionless for the bulk of the afternoon, curled up on a chair in my bedroom watching one sad film after another in an effort to exhaust my supply of tears. By day’s end I was whipped, beaten down to the point all I could do was stand out on the patio, close my eyes and draw long deep breaths, hold them for as long as I could and then exhale slowly, reminding myself that life was a gift and that there were so many others who would happily change places with exactly where I was in exchange for fighting a losing battle against cancer or some other terminal illness.

I had behaved like a dog in the relationship, willing to endure things that I shouldn’t have for far too long a time for the singular benefit of not having to face my future alone. Shame on me …. for having squandered my time and all the gifts I was willing to give to the relationship on someone who had proven himself unworthy. As an animal lover I have owned my share of both cats and dogs and have adored each for different reasons, but as woman it’s high time I subscribe to the benefits of my birthright by becoming more catlike in the future, thus showing a willingness to invest in those who treat me deservingly, while maintaining the strength to walk away from those who do not.

I’ve come to the conclusion there are worse things than being alone and single. According to the U.S. Census, there are approximately 60.3 million married couples residing in the United States, while there are an additional 124.6 million adult singles. Therefore, if I have to be a charter member of any club, it’s good to know I am in such good company where there is strength in numbers and the continued hope of connecting with at least one more fish in the sea.

We’re all bombarded with news on a daily basis …. with 24-hour news networks flooding the airwaves, we’ve all become a little de-sensitized to all the bad news floating around these days. However, sometimes a news story – for any number of reasons – manages to stop you in your tracks. Such was the case with Arkansas realtor, Beverly Carter, who went missing this past Thursday evening September 25 when she left for the evening to show a property to a prospective client. Early this morning at about 12:30 a.m. her body was recovered in a shallow grave.

There is any number of reasons why this case intrigued me …. as a fellow Arkansan and aunt whose young, blue-eyed blonde niece also sells real estate in Little Rock, as a mother and grandmother whose stomach was literally torn up inside as Ms. Carter’s son spoke words of hope to the media that his mother might still be alive, all the while knowing as time passed that possibility was becoming more and more remote, as a woman immeasurably touched by a worried husband’s plea for her safe return and as a fellow citizen concerned about our growing vulnerability in a society frequently trolled by individuals whose selfish need to feed their own sordid obsessions can’t help but cause so much pain and misery for others.

Anyone who’s ever lost someone they’re close to by means of sudden, unexpected tragedy fully understands the weight of such a profound loss the Carter family and friends are currently experiencing. Therefore, I would like to add my prayers to the list of what must be thousands who are now praying for their ability to cope with the unspeakable. They need each other more than ever at this time.

I didn’t know Beverly Carter, but for all intents and purposes I – like so many other women – could have easily been her. As an interior designer for over 26 years, I have traveled countless times to properties – almost always unescorted – to meet clients, contractors and a variety of other disciplines, oftentimes in isolated locales, during evening hours and on weekends when jobsites are all but deserted, armed with nothing more than a pen, a legal pad and a tape measure. I’ve never considered the possibility of carrying a gun. With my small stature, I always felt like it could end up being more of a liability than protection. Besides, it’s very difficult to defend yourself from an unanticipated attacker, because unfortunately they are the ones who possess the element of surprise.

Saddened by the latest turn-of-events, I am at least grateful it looks as if authorities have caught the right perpetrator, and as such he won’t continue to stalk unsuspecting prey. Thirty-three year old Aaron Michael Lewis was arrested yesterday and then charged with capital murder in the case this morning, but I have to ask myself, “Aside from all the prayers and well wishes, how can those of us who don’t know the family personally honor Beverly Carter’s memory?”

To me the answer is obvious …. we can learn. When asked by reporters early this morning during a brief appearance prior to his transport exactly why Carter was targeted, the suspect replied, “Because she was just a woman who worked alone – a rich broker.” It should be noted, although Lewis has confessed to the kidnapping, to date he has denied killing her.

Still – despite what has happened here – I don’t think the answer lies in going out with the intention of arming ourselves to the hilt with an arsenal of newly purchased weapons. Handguns are best kept in the possession of those whose responsibility it is to use them in the process of performing their sworn duty and then and only then with discretion. Otherwise it can be used against you if lost within a struggle. When I lived and worked in Dallas, I used to carry a small bottle of pepper spray that was attached to my key ring, because my keys were always in my hands when I arrived at a location. However, aside from arming yourself with something designed explicitly for protection, we all must become more aware and almost overly protective about how we share our personal information.

Criminals regularly case social media outlets like Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram and of course Craigslist. Add to that the growing list of dating sites like Match.com – among others – and you have to realize there are any number of ways some deranged would-be perpetrator can glean intimate details about your life and your daily movements. I’ve always stated, “The internet – when used for its intended purpose – is a wonderful thing.” But there are countless individuals living on the fringe of society and operating in dark spaces who are using it as if it were some kind of perverse feeding ground. In this regard, it’s only by becoming more self-aware that we can only begin to protect ourselves from this kind of criminal element.

Take it from me – someone who was stalked by an unknown assailant for a period of two years, people have ways of watching you and insinuating themselves in your life without your knowing. It was only after I pleaded with him over the telephone in what must have been his 100 call, “Please stop ….” Through uncontrollable tears I explained how he had cost me and my family a good deal of money and sleep and that I was miserable and afraid to leave my children home alone anymore that he finally did just that. However, to this day I have no idea who this man was. This was time before the advent of personal computers and internet. I shudder to think what might have happened had his intervention occurred in today’s time.

In the end, it was not increased privacy or security that ended his siege. It wasn’t even a gun or the threat of violence that made him withdraw. It was me using what God gave me in the form of my wits appealing to whatever sense of decency he might still harbor deep within. Would this solution work every time? Probably not, but then neither would a gun. When it comes to keeping yourself safe, there is no one size fits all, fail-safe measure capable of guaranteeing 100% success when it comes to surviving a possible attack, but to carry on as if nothing dreadful has just occurred is fool-hearty as well.

The only real way any of us has the hope of surviving the kind of ordeal that took Beverly Carter’s life is by never putting ourselves in jeopardy in the first place. Only then will we have paid proper homage to her memory by letting those who knew and loved her that her death was not in vain. May God rest her soul.

Usually when I get in this type of in-depth discussion with someone it has to do with whether or not someone has a predisposition toward being gay or straight? For me – and perhaps only for me – it is a no brainer. Speaking from my own experience, there is no amount of environmental stimulation or provocation that could have deterred my being straight. From the time I was first exposed to members of the opposite sex – other than my brother and my father – I was smitten with my first attraction being a boy named Neil in Mrs. Grady’s first grade class at Lakeside Elementary School (I didn’t attend kindergarten) so many years ago. He was smart and a little bit shy with brown curly hair and bluish-green eyes. I was so painfully shy that it took me until the 7 grade to admit my attraction, and at that point he became my very first boyfriend, but alas that love was not meant to last, as he – like his brother before him – was shipped off to a prep school in Boston not long after the eighth grade, which taught me early on ….. love sucks.

However, what I’m talking about here is the primary effect environment has to play on the success or failure of our most important intimate relationships. From a strictly genetic point-of-view, I don’t believe any of us are predisposed toward failure in relationships; therefore it would to stand to reason that the environmental role is key when it comes to our ability to maintain good health in any relationship. Many of us – me included – make the mistake of thinking when we are involved in a relationship that it is just the two of us, when in actuality this is rarely the case. Most of us literally surround ourselves with a cast of players on a day-to-day basis – some who play leading roles – while others play support on a variety of different levels. While Hillary Clinton may have written It Takes A Village to support the concept that it takes many people’s help and influence to successfully raise a child, it’s my belief that same village expands to even greater numbers once we reach adulthood, when we expand our horizons to include not only friends and family, but also co-workers and business contacts, as well as any number of others that might include your hairdresser, personal physician, grocer and dry cleaners ….. basically anyone you see on a semi-regular basis.

As we develop these ongoing relationships, we tend to open up about ourselves and our private lives in the form of brief discussions sometimes revealing intimate details about what’s going on in our lives and how it makes us feel. As a result we get unsolicited input that cannot help but influence our thinking in terms of our own perceptions about how well things are developing between ourselves and our partners.

Question ….. have you ever seen a car you loved that you thought you’d never seen before, heard a song on the radio that instantly struck a particular chord, started using a ‘catch phrase’ you thought was entirely unique or gravitated toward a particular color you thought was new only to discover you’re suddenly seeing or hearing it everywhere? This is a common phenomenon that happens to each of us on some level multiple times throughout our lives, and science has actually given it a name. It is called reticular activation and it is believed to play a major role in our important daily functions including sleep and behavioral motivation, as well as the beating of a heart, according to according to wiseGeek.com.

Therefore it stands to reason – from a purely scientific point-of-view – that when we are hearing constant reinforcement – positive or negative – it cannot help but play a role in terms of our thinking as to whether or not we feel good about the person we’re with at any given time. Thus whether we like it or not, we’re allowing ourselves to be influenced by the people around us, if only subliminally.

If you doubt my words, then ask yourself this, “Have I ever been in a relationship that I felt so entirely happy with only to have it crumble once I revealed it to others, who then started chipping away at my bliss by planting seeds of doubt rooted in cynicism from their own past failures, or suspicions about ulterior motives that may or may not exist?” We all want to be happy, but there is a jealousy inside us that oftentimes rears its ugly head once we witness that very happiness that has remained elusive to us manifest in others. As a result, whether intentional or not, we will then opt to make ourselves feel better about our own situation by dampening someone else’s spirit. I know it’s an ugly thing to have to face about yourself or someone you trust, but it’s there, and it’s in all of us, and the sooner we identify it the more effective we will be at exorcising its power over happiness in general.

An honest and good relationship founded on mutual love, trust and respect for one another is indeed rare and worth protecting – sometimes even from the very people we care about the most. Ultimately we are all captains in charge of steering our own vessel through all the rough waters life’s situations will eventually place us in as we chart our individual course. Whether you choose to go it alone or allow someone else in your life who will not only support your dreams, but be there for you – without judgment – should you falter is a decision that should be made only by you. Then at least the victory or defeat will rest solely at your own feet, and the likelihood of regret will diminish considerably.

It has been exactly one month to the day since I’ve attempted to write anything aside from an occasional email. I don’t know if I was in a slump, or if I just didn’t feel I had anything particularly interesting to say. Either way as I dressed for work this morning, a topic suddenly popped into my mind, and once again my words began forming cohesive thoughts and opinions based upon my own life experience and what I’d learned along the way.

Looking back, as a parent of two young adults, I remember wanting my children to find a partner in life that brought little in the way of baggage into the relationship. With so many odds already stacked against them, it seemed far more prudent to wish for a clean slate in order to hedge their bets for a successful union. It’s not that I held anything against someone who had been previously married or even one who already had children, but knowing how green my two were in the ways of the world, I just wished to protect them from the potential liability that naturally exist in someone who had once loved, then made a commitment and still ended up broken.

When I had been their age, I was far too foolish to think about such practicalities. Having always allowed my heart to dictate my actions, I was naïve enough to believe that love conquered all, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Sometimes love ends up being the first casualty of war when incompatibilities predictably collide, thus resulting in the ultimate test of wills designed to declare a winner – when in the end – nobody wins and everyone loses. All I wanted was to protect them from the same kinds of heartache I had suffered. However – in the end – they had to make their own choices, because as I now know all too well we don’t get to choose who we love. Sometimes cupid’s arrows strike and as the saying goes …. the rest is history.

But now many years later, I’ve come to look at baggage very differently. Once you make it into your forties, whether you’ve opted for marriage – sometimes more than once – or not, you’ve probably suffered enough relationship woes along the way to have collected a rather nice set of luggage. In fact, my collection is so extensive I could travel around the world with train cases and steamer trunks loaded with enough wardrobe choices that I’d never have to wear the same thing twice, which is a rather predictable tendency when you constantly allow your emotions to rule over better judgment, but at least my luggage was Louis Vuitton …..

On a much more serious note, to me having baggage just means you’ve embraced life in a manner designed to live it out loud as opposed to only observing it from the sidelines for fear of being hurt. You have loved and you have lost and hopefully you have learned something along the way. You’ve allowed yourself to grow as a human being by discovering the priceless lessons embedded in concepts like forgiveness, as well as compassion for those whose bad choices might have inadvertently caused suffering. You’ve learned there’s beauty behind character lines and experience is something you cannot teach. Hopefully you’ve learned that refusing to judge others means people are far less likely to judge you, and that there’s a freedom in acceptance that cannot be bought or won on a battlefield. These are the people I try and surround myself with every day, because I find them infinitely more interesting and a real treasure to be around. I am inspired by their stories and through the process of having shared found it easier to forgive my own stupid mistakes.

To grow older doesn’t necessarily mean you have grown up, but to grow up and gain real maturity with aging naturally means you have baggage, and that’s okay. However we as human beings have to stop figuratively dragging that same luggage around with us wherever we go. We would no more wheel a large suitcase designed for extensive travel with us to work or shopping no more than we would while going out to dinner or a movie. Besides being impractical, it would be far too cumbersome to deal with effectively. So why then do we insist upon carrying our emotional baggage wherever we go, particularly into new relationships as if the act of carrying all that weight will somehow manage to protect us from acquiring a new piece to add to our collection?

Wouldn’t it be a far better idea to store it away the same way we do our actual luggage and then bring it out only as needed? Whether caught up in a moment of melancholy or the simple need to remember, we all feel the occasional need to sort through our past and relive certain moments and experiences as a means to remain connected to what brought us to where we are today. It is part of the continuity of life and absolutely necessary in terms of developing techniques for making better, more appropriate choices for the future. All in all I must say I am growing more and more comfortable with who I am, as well as my unique place in the world each and every day, and as a result I experience far more good days than bad.

Looking back there are things I would choose to change if I could, but alas I am as powerless over time and its effects as I am at reading the future. But as a means to exert some influence over that which I can control, I have let go of any residual hurt or bitterness, as well as anguish and resentment and as a result have managed to diminish my impressive collection down to one small carry-on that I keep stored away on the top shelf of my closet. Although I haven’t had the need – either literally or figuratively – to take in down in some time now, I do still take pride in the fact it is a Louis Vuitton.

Let me begin by first stating, “I adore Bill Maher ….” He is liberal, and as such a purist in his dialogue and satire. He will never be accused of riding the fence on any given topic or even being diplomatic in his delivery. He calls it like he sees it, and more often than not exposes the true motivation behind all the endless political posturing and machinations for what it is …. blind ambition and callous greed cleverly cloaked in a coat of self-righteousness designed to lure taxpayes into a false sense of security by having them believe their elected officials actually give a damn about anyone besides themselves. One-by-one he calls them out – both Republicans and Democrats, Conservatives and Liberals – who have forgotten what it is they were elected to do …. govern and represent the people.

However, in a recent tweet dated August 19 Maher blasted liberals by claiming they – in this case the NY Times – pretend all religions are alike. But I have to ask, “Which generalization is more dangerous ….” the one that suggest all do-gooder liberals wish to label all religions the same? Or the implication that the extremist group known as Isis, who is currently making headlines by way of having committed such brutal acts of atrocity as the beheading of American journalist, James Foley, and then subsequently placing that video online, is an Islamic religion at all?

Isis, under its former name Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant, was formed in April of 2013, having grown out of al-Qaeda in Iraq(AQI). Since that time, it has actually been disavowed by al-Qaeda but has still managed to become one of the main jihadist groups fighting government forces in Syria and Iraq. Clearly both groups are terrorists whose insurgency into mainstream news has been fueled by countless acts of barbarism, which cannot help but stunt the development of all humanity in the process.

What they have done in their own country is no less than despicable, but to think they would commit such a disgusting act against an American citizen angers and sickens all of us who value concepts like freedom and democracy and treasure the ability to live life without feeling as if you’re under constant threat from outsiders who value nothing in a traditional sense aside from making war and committing genocidal acts against fellow Iraqis whose belief systems differ from their own. When you consider their countless acts of rape, pillaging, blackmail and murder carried out on a daily basis, it’s difficult – if not impossible – to consider this group of insurgents freedom fighters at all …. much less followers of Islam. I too have been deeply disturbed by Mr. Foley’s murder followed by the additional threats against westerners still being held hostage, but I am not ready to lump all people of Middle Eastern descent into one common Islamic basket.

According to Wikipedia, the Nation of Islam (NOI) is a syncretic new religious movement originally founded out of Detroit, Michigan by Wallace D. Fard Muhammed on July 4, 1930, and its stated goals were to improve the spiritual, mental, social, and economic condition of African Americans in the United States and all of humanity. Its detractors accused it of being black supremacists and anti-Semitic. While being a Muslim on the other hand is an adherent of Islam. It is a monotheistic, Abrahamic religion based on the Quran. Thus Muslims consider the Quran to be the verbatim word of God as revealed through the prophet, Muhammad, and Muslim is a term meaning one who submits to God.

Muslims believe that God is eternal, transcendent and absolutely one. They also believe that Islam is the complete and universal version of a primordial faith as revealed through the prophets …. including Abraham, Moses, Ishmael and Jesus. However, they also believe that message has been corrupted over time, thus in their eyes the Qur’an is the Final Testament. Their religious practices are enumerated in the ‘Five Pillars of Islam’ which consists of daily prayers, periodic fasting, almsgiving and at least one pilgrimage to Mecca over one’s lifetime, but speaking on a personal note, the few Muslims I have become acquainted with over the years are good, decent people …. extremely kind and considerate, well-educated, non-judgmental and generous by nature. They love their families and respect humanity, but mostly they adhere to peaceful living.

The wars and rumors of war that have given birth to religious extremism centered in and around the Middle East should not be considered Muslim or even followers of Islam for that matter. They are of no more political or social importance in their respective societies than the drug dealer or gang members are in ours, and their offensive claims against Western civilization do not lend credence to cowardly, vicious acts of violence perpetrated against American prisoners like James Foley, fellow Iraqis or any other citizen of the world. They parade innocents before cameras for the purpose of orchestrated public executions while cloaking their own identity for fear of being held personally accountable for their misdeeds. Tell me, where is the pride in that?

But to equate them with other Muslims who loyally practice their faith is as ridiculous and unfair as equating all Catholics with the corrupt, maniacal popes in Rome – Pope Innocent III to be exact – who originally set out to destroy the Cathars, a dissident sect who held alternative views about Jesus and claimed to be in possession of a secret Book of Love purported to be the gospel according to Jesus.

During the Dark Ages, the powers in Rome gave its papal blessing on mass executions – primarily through burning alive – large groups of the devoted as a means to cleanse the church. By the end of a twenty year military campaign, it is estimated one million people died during the crusades. As a practicing Roman Catholic who loves the church, this history – which I’ve read and studied at length – is disturbing to say the very least. After all, how can a man – any man – who professes to love God and worship the word of Christ be the root cause of so much pain, suffering and misery carried out in an effort to further his own agenda, thereby maximizing his authority over what was Western Europe at that time? Obviously it’s because he wasn’t so much a man of the cloth as a dangerously ambitious politician who managed to exert his will without consideration for common human decency. Thus he is an unfortunate part of the church’s history, but not a part of the actual fabric of the church itself. It is this ability to separate the two that enables me to still love Catholicism and worship the essence of what it has always stood for …. in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.

In conclusion, whether speaking of radical groups like Isis or more organized factions like those who once lead The Inquisition while successfully hiding behind priestly robes, the comparisons are virtually the same …. these are nothing more than lustful, power-hungry individuals who lost sight of the true meaning of worship as they continue to quench their thirst for human suffering with the blood of their victims. Some may rise to a prominent place of power while others will remain anonymous or be forgotten long before the names of the martyrs they themselves created. In terms of the big picture, though they may indeed be feared, they are unimportant, as their movement will have little to do with how we Americans continue to lead our lives and worship. As a general rule they may alter the course of history during their time, but they cannot change what continues to live on in a good man or woman’s heart.

I pray for James Foley’s family as they are forced to come to terms with such a grim reality. However, I am deeply touched by the eloquence they exemplified during a statement to the press where the same courage, grace and dignity they managed to instill in their son was so richly demonstrated. In his mother’s words, “Jim would never want us to hate or be bitter. We’re praying for the strength to love like he did.” And that’s what’s at the heart of any true religion – whether Christian, Muslim or Jew – the ability to love even in the face of unspeakable tragedy. May God bless you all.

Last week I was prompted to write an article entitled Dark Shadows as a means to process the sudden and unexpected death of actor and comedian, Robin Williams. As a means to come to grips with how someone who – from the outside looking in – seemingly had everything could end up in a place where he must have felt he had nothing to live for, I traveled back to a place in my own life when I knew I had felt the same way just prior to my own suicide attempt.

Caught within the throes of a nasty divorce following a twenty-five year marriage, I was suddenly alienated from my parents and children who felt as if they no longer knew me, as well as what friendships I’d managed to maintain over the years. I was struggling to survive in a new city only to find out all access to any funds I’d managed to put back for the occasion had been frozen thus leaving me with little or nothing to live on, and I was racked by an overwhelming sense of guilt, because it was me who wanted out of the marriage and me that was turning everyone’s life I cared about inside out along with my own. Besides all this I was living in hiding …. moving from one cheap hotel room to the next, night after night once I found out my husband had hired a detective who was to bring me back. Though due to his abandonment I had more or less spent the last fifteen years by myself as I labored to raise our two children, I remember thinking I had never felt so alone in all my life. My world was in shambles, and I had no idea where to begin or even how to start rebuilding. It didn’t matter in what direction I looked, as it seemed there was no future on that distant horizon that included me anymore, and the best thing I could do for my loved ones was put an end to all this suffering …. or at least that’s what my mind was telling me in that at the time.

mind was telling me in that at the time.

But God was good. Just because I had lost faith in him didn’t mean he had given up on me. He sent his angels and they protected me from myself. Thus my attempt at an overdose was subverted when I was found and rushed to a hospital where my stomach was pumped just before my lungs aspirated. Three days later, as I sat across from a staff psychiatrist, I knew I was neither crazy nor intent on a death wish …. I was just incredibly sad, and I had been for well over a decade. Now – although it’s taken me fifteen years to discover the reason – I know now why my life was spared when by all accounts it shouldn’t have been.

I’m tired of the devastating effects mental illness has upon our society, and I’m worn out turning on the television and seeing one more gut-wrenching example of countless people’s lives being ripped apart due to some troubled individual who takes their frustrations out on innocents as a means to somehow seek revenge against a civilization that has abandoned him. It doesn’t take a trained psychologist to comprehend we need to embrace a different kind of culture that allows for someone to seek help for a troubled mind without the fear of being labeled as sick, crazy or incompetent. It’s time family members seek help for troubled minors long before they become a household name due to a tragic headline splashed across the news. And last of all it’s time we admit we are not invincible and that even the strongest among us sometimes suffers from weak moments, and that is okay …. we are all only human.

Since writing Dark Shadows this past week, a number of people have reached out to me in a variety of ways, some sharing their own personal struggles with maladies that affect the mind. As such it’s my belief that depression, as well as a variety of other mental illnesses, are far more prevalent in society than any of us would like to believe. I also am under the distinct impression that depression in particular affects far more men than women simply because women are more adept at sharing their feelings and processing their emotions than men. We have had to pay dearly for that advantage by being labeled bitches and drama queens, but in the end it is a benefit that has helped us cope more often than not, while men are left to internalize their fears and anxieties lest they should be perceived as weak.

As Americans we are for the most part Type-A over-achievers. Our founding fathers left British rule and oppression then subsequently fought to insure their independence from England in the War for Independence and then went on to establish what was to become a world-dominating superpower in less than two hundred years. There is no other society on earth that can lay claim to such bragging rights, which ultimately makes us hated by some and adored by others. Inasmuch we have grown up being held as the standard bearer for excellence and accomplishment, which makes it that much more difficult when on a personal level we feel we can no longer cope in our private lives. Unfortunately with such shame comes the need to keep secrets from the very people who would help if only they knew.

We grow up celebrating victory and achievement, but no one wants to celebrate failure, much less find themselves victimized by its unforgiving ramifications, thus we are faced with one of two choices …. live a possible life of shame – which may very well lead to securing the kind of help we need – or choose to live a life that is less than authentic as we endeavor to cover up our misfortune as if it meant being stripped naked before an unforgiving crowd of onlookers. The first option – though indeed painful – is undoubtedly the shortest distance to recovery, while the second option can lead to years of dysfunctional living designed to eat away at you from the inside out, and in the worst of circumstances, culminating in one desperate final act intended to take one’s life.

However, the good news is that mental illness is not cancer or some other terminal illness. With the right kind of compassion and care it can be treated, and recovery or at least management is possible. Oftentimes over the years I’ve watched a profile on television of someone who is fighting – or perhaps even dying from some potentially terminal illness – only to hear them say something like, “Cancer is the best thing that ever happened to me ….” I believe that’s because through circumstances that are beyond their control they have been forced to re-evaluate what’s most important in life and then embrace whatever time they had left making the most of it with a renewed perspective that wouldn’t have been possible otherwise. In this insistence something like cancer can actually become a gift, but then so can overcoming those same struggles that originate within the mind. Because conquering the effects of mental illness can lead to the same kind of grace that overcoming any other kind of illness does, and once you do you just might find you’ve written your own silver linings playbook.

On a final note …. I’ve been hard on my ex-husband of late, because he helped shaped the darkest period of my life, but that was years ago when perhaps we were both too young to know any better. As a result, my numerous knee-jerk reactions caused me to do many things that hurt him as well, however we are both much older and wiser now. He went on to eventually re-marry and is living life much differently than he once did, and I went on to find a separate peace that has brought me much happiness in return. We are both better people now. Thus it’s never too late to get healthy, and you should never feel ashamed for reaching out to people and seeking the help you need. Things like depression, fear and anxiety need not be terminal once you decide to stop giving them power and instead take it back for yourself.

Gary Jules ….

And I find it kinda funny

I find it kinda sad

The dreams in which I’m dying

Are the best I ever had

I find it hard to tell you

I find it hard to take

When people run in circles

It’s a very, very mad world, mad world

Have you ever visited a wonderfully vibrant city like New York? So many people vacuumed-packed into such a small space, it’s undeniably the epicenter of so much of what goes on in this nation – if not the world as a whole – as it is the home of the Federal Reserve, the Dow Industries, United Nations, Advertising and the American Fashion industry just to name a few. It also serves as a cultural icon playing host to the Met, Guggenheim and Museum of Modern Art, as well as The Kennedy Center and of course the illustrious Broadway theatres. While the Empire State and Chrysler Buildings punctuate its skyline, other architectural masterpieces like St. Patrick’s Cathedral, the New York Public Library, and Waldorf-Astoria pay homage to the city that never sleeps, while still other iconic images like the Brooklyn Bridge and Statue of Liberty stand watch over its waterways. It’s no wonder this small town girl often feels just a little ‘out of place’ when called upon to navigate its streets and byways without the aid of a seasoned veteran.

Throughout all of her trials and tribulations with lovers, New York City remained Carrie Bradshaw’s most reliable love interest during each of the ninety-four episodes of Sex and the City. But the highly stylized – if not entertaining – portrait created by the enormously popular series hardly reflects what I’ve found to be true in reality. While New York City has many and varied claims to fame, it also represents a microcosm of what’s most troubling in society. When I visit I fail to see any female foursomes dressed to the nines and sporting 5” heels while walking in tandem with arms locked as if to symbolize an unspoken solidarity, but rather I see countless women walking alone, clad in various shades of black and clutching oversized handbags in one hand and a cell phone in the other. Their faces betray little or no emotion as they traverse one city block after another, all while donning sensible shoes. In a city of over 8 million people they are alone – disconnected – due to having to work far too many hours to support a life that for most of us remains financially out of reach.

Men on the other hand are often seen talking too loud on their cells in order to drown out a sitting literally brimming with background noise as they endeavor to squeeze the most out of each possible minute between meetings. Occasionally some statuesque model-like figure of a woman will pass by and briefly disrupt their concentration, but only for a moment before its back to business as usual. So much to do …. so little time.

Isn’t it sad that so many of us no longer work to live, but rather live to work? All of our efforts to maximize our leisure time have led to the kind of conspicuous consumption that ends up doing just the opposite by zapping our quality of life to the point it’s often impossible to slow down long enough to be able to relate to one another in any way that might be construed as meaningful.

There’s been so much concern about the use of drones these days …. from ramping up our national security to having your Amazon packages delivered by a robotic humanoid with no name. You can even purchase your own drone – at a cost – from a wide selection of choices offered online. They can take pictures and videos from miles away and the Parrot AR.Drone2.0 has the capability to create its own Wi-Fi. Others support action cameras like Go Pro Hero while still others are designed specifically for First Person Viewing (FPV) …. the list goes on. While certainly hip and cool, I fear that it’s humans who will wind up assimilating their usefulness into our everyday lives as much as it is the drones who will one day have to decipher our viability in a world dominated by technology. Could it be possible that sometime in the distant future human beings – who mainly consist of flesh, bone and urea – might be ruled obsolete? Before you dismiss the concept entirely, it’s worth noting we have already adapted ourselves to the technology we’ve all become so dependent upon versus the other way around.

As we navigate through life’s passages apparently oblivious to the world constantly unfolding around us at every single turn, we continue walking expressionless, often unaware of basic human need and suffering …. even when it’s our own. Is it any wonder why some of us implode? Like an abandoned structure whose fate has suddenly been sealed in the name of progress, the ghosts from our past, present and future are trapped within the vacuum, screaming to be heard while nobody listens.

Not all of us go out and buy a gun and ammo with the intent of venting our frustration against an unsuspecting public, but rather some of us choose to just walk away while trying to come to grips with a new reality that has mercilessly ripped our peace-of-mind right out of our skulls, thereby leaving us to search for happiness elsewhere. But I heard something of use just this morning …. “When you’re surrounded by darkness, all you need do is turn on the light.” I like that.

Many years ago when I was still a young girl, I used to rush home from school each afternoon so that I could tune into my favorite television drama titled Dark Shadows. It was a gothic soap opera that stood out as an original in its time. Filming took place at Lyndhurst Estate, which dates back to 1767 and resides outside of Tarrytown, New York. To the show’s devotees Collinwood Mansion was the perfect classic setting where veteran stage and film actress, Joan Bennett, presided over the Collins clan. The mansion’s striking figure during opening credits must have made every loyal watcher such as me envision what it must be like to live in such graceful fashion, even if it was just a little bit ominous in stature.

During its five year tenure, the show played host to every conceivable stereotype from vampires and werewolves to witches and warlocks, even zombies decades ahead of The Walking Dead. To a girl like myself whose age had barely pierced double digits, the show represented an escape into a world of make believe where fright and intrigue both reigned supreme. Watching it taught me to maintain a healthy respect for that which lurked deep within the shadows, far out of sight from whatever eyes might pry. But at least back then I was comforted by the fact those demons didn’t really exist, therefore there was nothing to fear from those dark shadows in particular, because once I turned off the television set any implied threat no longer endured.

By today’s standards it was cheesy at best, which was amplified in the 2012 remake featuring Johnny Depp and Michelle Pfeiffer, which however proved to be a disappointment to loyal fans such as myself who could have appreciated an updated version that respected the integrity of the original ground-breaking series versus making it into a parody. But alas I digress ….

Fast-forwarding a couple of decades, I was forced to view those same dark shadows in an entirely different light, if you’ll forgive me turning a phrase, as they became a semi-constant threat from an imposing enemy who resided within, frequenting my sub-conscious with the intent of exhausting every ounce of peace from my mind. Brought on by the pressures of raising two children on my own – one of which who was troubled at the time – while remaining married to a man who refused to set up housekeeping in any traditional sense of the word couldn’t help but take its toll. In the wake of my new normal, feelings of inadequacy were constantly fueled by my husband’s abandonment, thus leaving me with the troubling question, “What’s wrong with me?”

Try as I might to sustain some sense of equilibrium, I was plagued by infrequent bouts of crippling depression that sometimes descended into self-destructive behavior, which further complicated my life as I strived project an outward sense of self-control. As such I over-compensated by maintaining a perfect household while continuing to work full time and struggling to instill some sense of normalcy into our children so that they wouldn’t be forced to suffer the sins of their parents …. though I couldn’t really explain why their father wasn’t home anymore. After all how do you explain to any child that we weren’t enough to keep your daddy home?

It’s hard – if not impossible – to maintain a healthy sense of self-worth in the face of abject rejection. If a husband cheats on his spouse, oftentimes it has nothing to do with his feelings for his wife but more to do with a kind of thrill-seeking behavior designed to satisfy a temporary impulse, but when he packs his backs and drives away without notice, he is discarding everything the two of you once had and shared in search of something altogether different, thus leaving you alone to try and pick up the pieces. It's not that I'm trying to diminish that kind of pain but rather to say, "It's different."

In an effort to stabilize my self-esteem, I’d look at myself in the mirror and say you’re smart, still reasonably attractive and can converse intelligently on any number of subjects, as well as the fact that your kind and compassionate enough to oftentimes place the needs of others before your own, but in the end loneliness and despair would always win out by telling me if I were so great, I wouldn’t be alone. I literally tormented myself for years until a failed suicide attempt placed me in an all-expense paid, three-day vacation in the Middle Tennessee State Mental Institution where I found myself in a coed ward surrounded by people whose problems were so much greater than my own. In the end I know I didn’t really wish to die …. I just wanted to stop the pain, to make it go away and leave me alone once and for all. That was back in 1999, and although I still have to battle my own inner demons on occasion, I no longer resort to foolish or reckless behavior in an effort to strangle the demons who still occasionally whisper in my ear.

It’s not that I like talking about such a painful period in my life, but with the tragic recent passing of Robin Williams from suicide, I feel compelled to do my part in helping to remove the stigma attached to mental illness. It’s easy from the outside looking in to think you know someone …. particularly celebrities whose characters we become so attached to onscreen, but you can never judge the amount of pain anyone might be carrying around inside until you walk a mile in their shoes. I know firsthand depression strips you of all dignity and mercilessly toys with your perception of reality until you can feel like the world would be a better place without you. When you couple that with the kind of self-destructive behavior that can only lead to regrets, then you really are fighting a battle that can very well lead to your own destruction, and it’s only through some dramatic intervention, that you will eventually find death or a means to survive. I was one of the lucky ones.

I of course didn’t know Robin Williams, but I was often moved by his performances. Although he was a comic genius, I most remember those roles that called upon him to reveal his innermost vulnerability as his characters struggled with a world that could on occasion be cruel and unfair. Among my favorites were Good Morning Vietnam, Dead Poet’s Society, Good Will Hunting and of course The Fisher King. Those are just a few of the many parting gifts he left with us all, and because he’s no longer here, they are worth treasuring. I pray he’s found the peace that eluded him in this life. I pray others will find it as well by choosing to come out of the dark shadows and into the light.

The Holy Spirit is indeed a person …. actually the third person in the Blessed Trinity and not some vague mystery that only presents itself to those suddenly enraptured and speaking in tongues. And because He is considered equal to the Father and the Son, the Holy Spirit possesses all the same divine characteristics as its two predecessors.

In John 14:16-18 Jesus – just prior to his ascension into heaven – made a crucial pledge to his disciples before his imminent departure, when he promised not to leave his devoted followers as orphans but instead asked the Father for a Helper known as the Spirit of Truth to reside within those who came to know God the Father and God the Son as one. Thus the all-important third person of the Blessed Trinity was born to assist the faithful in their mission to spread God’s word. Therefore, when a person becomes born again, God resides in that person as the Holy Spirit.

To me, the Holy Spirit is the ultimate bearer of truth that I am constantly called upon to measure my will up against as I attempt to make various choices directly affecting my personal life. He is there to manifest God’s character within me in a manner I could not possibly do all on my own. Given the opportunity, the Holy Spirit is thus there to assist me in folding love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, faithfulness, goodness and even self-control seamlessly into my life that I might draw upon their tender mercies as needed. He is not to be equated to the kind of conscious thought that flows forth from my mind as I continuously act and react according to external stimuli, but rather an important part of the stream of consciousness that makes up the energy in our Universe, that same energy we will return to when we die. It is a living, viable force designed to help bring out the best in us even when we fail to realize it’s there.

I believe that’s what the late Nelson Mandela was referring to when he said, “You are powerful beyond measure ….” The very fact that God resides within us dictates that conclusion. Inasmuch we believers are blessed with a limitless supply of resources from which to draw upon as we propel ourselves forward, going through this life endeavoring to fulfill our unique destinies. It is thus that we Christians are told to walk in the spirit (Galatians 15:25) and to be filled with the Spirit (Ephesians 5:18) and by doing so, that very essence automatically promotes healthy spiritual growth from within. So is it any wonder why we – even some of the most devout Christians – often manage to make a mess of things when we fail to listen to our inner voice by asserting our own will over that of God’s?

Thinking back over my years, I find that every time I felt lost in my life, it was directly attributable to the fact I insisted upon imposing my will while at the same time ignoring God’s. Those thoughts and actions were born out of my own selfish desire to play host to an ego that fed me full of the kind of logic that dictated that I knew what was best for me in spite of a wealth of evidence to the contrary. Consequently, I was left with resulting carnage of my own making, fruitlessly searching for someone else to blame for my troubles while I toiled away, picking up the pieces of my life until I eventually came to my senses.

We’re all human …. and as such we want what we want when we want it, but that doesn’t always mean it’s right or even good for us at the time – and when it’s not – there’s undoubtedly unfortunate consequences to bear. Sometimes in order to gain perspective, we must be willing to relinquish control of our thoughts to that inner voice that will always want what’s best for us in terms of our continued growth and happiness, even when we fail to recognize the divinity in the plan. It can help if we learn to look at our bodies as a vessel that’s being piloted by someone – or something – far more capable than ourselves …. pure in intent and guided by unconditional love. As such, all we need do in order to make better, more informed decisions is from time-to-time quiet our minds and let the spirit guide us toward that truth that is God’s promise to each and every one of us.

Passing the age of fifty – several years back now – became something of an unpredictable milestone for me in many ways …. Once I recovered from the initial shock that I was passing through middle age at a rather alarming rate, the only resounding conclusion I managed at the time was I wasn’t ready to be old. But if I wasn’t prepared to grow old, then I decided I might at least consider growing up. Not quite yet ready for a ‘bucket list’ I opted instead to re-examine my first fifty years with the intent to re-visit some of the mistakes I’d made in an effort to discern something worth carrying into the next half of my life, and first thing I realized right off the bat was there is a profound wisdom embedded within God’s plan with respect to how we age.

Now I absolutely hate gray hair – on me – as well as wrinkles and a sluggish metabolism as much as the next person. Thus I fight back the visible signs of aging with all the money and might I can muster on a daily basis, but there is something uniquely wonderful that happens when aging forces you to slow down to the point you begin to notice certain things you might have otherwise previously overlooked. Following is an important list – in no particular order – I’ve compiled over the last few years that I like to refer to as gems or pearls of wisdom that can only come with age ….

1) Never pass up an opportunity to extend kindness, as it has the power to lift one’s spirit in ways and manners you might never have dreamed imaginable.

There is so much negativity pervasive within society that it’s often difficult not to become cynical, but a simple act of kindness has the power to alter one’s brain chemistry – thereby releasing endorphins – which give someone a sense of well-being that might not otherwise have been possible.

2) Always attack any assigned task as if your life depended upon it, because your efforts won’t go unnoticed, and that’s what will set you apart from the others who insist upon doing the bare minimum just to get by, because they fail to see the importance of doing a good job.

I see examples of it every day …. young people actually sitting on the job looking bored, checking their cell phones and texting friends while within plain view of co-workers and employers. To them this job’s just a brief layover, a stepping stone or pocket change until they get where they’re really going, but they fail to consider that next employer’s going to need a good reference and whether or not they land that next job they really want will depend upon their previous job performance. But besides all of that, developing a strong work ethic is something that will serve you well for the rest of your life.

The only way I’ve ever gotten ahead had little to do with how I looked, how much education I had or how smart I thought I was at any given moment, but it had everything to do with the fact I was willing to work harder than anyone else without complaining. In this respect silence is golden.

3) When someone tells you goodbye meaning they want out of a relationship, let him or her go …. the right person will stay and fight for your survival even when it’s hard. They do so because they value your uniqueness among others and are therefore willing to suffer just a little for the sake of true love.

Though certainly difficult to accept, someone who has already moved on in his or her heart cannot be convinced otherwise …. even with sound reasoning. To attempt to do so, only diminishes your self-respect and at best only forestalls the inevitable. Therefore the quicker you’re able to gain acceptance, the faster you move on to a healthier place.

4) Always strive to maintain a healthy lifestyle, as the importance of good overall health can never be underestimated. It’s easy to feel invincible in your youth, but the body has a way of paying you back for previous foolish choices as you age.

Occasionally we all feel the need to kick up our heels a little bit as a means to live dangerously, but the secret is to recover and return to healthy living as quickly as possible so that bad habits remain the exception and not the norm.

5) Always work toward maintaining a good attitude. When it comes to attitude, regardless of the situation we have only two choices …. good or bad. A good attitude will make even the worst predicament seem manageable, while a bad attitude will undoubtedly make everything appear worse than it is.

You know how when you look out your driver’s side window into your rearview mirror and read the faint print objects in mirror are closer than they appear? The same holds true with attitude in that any set of circumstances will be magnified or made smaller depending upon how you choose to look at them. In the end, I’ve found that a good attitude is something that will carry you when nothing else can or will. Sometimes you simply have to choose to be happy.

6) Believe in something greater than yourself …. it’s a big world we live in, and oftentimes it feels like there are far more bad days than good, but having faith in something much greater than mankind can sustain you through even the worst of times.

Sometimes it helps to realize life is not always about being happy or content within ourselves, but it is continuously about growth and learning. Thus most of our real growth occurs only when we are suffering. Forced with no other choice than to go outside of ourselves for the answers we need, we gain greater insight into the human condition and why it is we are here.

7) Hold on tight to your sense of humor. Harry Ward Beecher got it right when he coined the phrase, “Laughter is the best medicine.” Murphy’s Law pretty much dictates that despite our greatest efforts, some days will still be frustrating and difficult to bear, but if you can learn to laugh about it while keeping in mind tomorrow is another day, it makes shaking it off that much easier.

Laughter has the power to lighten any mood and infuse any situation with an energy all its own. Have you ever wondered why we’re drawn to someone who makes us laugh? It’s because they make us feel good in a manner that becomes infectious. Whenever you laugh you instantly feel like you’re having fun, and we can never have too much fun

8) Whenever possible, try not to project your lifestyle choices onto others. Our DNA determines who we are, therefore what is considered truth for one doesn’t necessarily apply to another. Same as you would not want anyone telling you how to live, no one else does either.

But most important, think how much nicer a place the world would be if we just accepted people for who they are without feeling the constant need to judge. Freedom would thus take on an even deeper and more profound meaning.

9) If you are going to judge, then I suggest you judge yourself first, as well as how your actions – both big and small – affects others. Take a moment to ponder do you help lift other’s spirits? Or do you bring them down?

It’s worth remembering you’ll never have to regret the good you do, and the subsequent return on your investment just might prove to be priceless.

10) Cultivate good friends and family all the days of your life, because they will give your life texture and meaning in a way the conspicuous acquisition of material things cannot. These relationships – the ones we establish and then continue to nurture – are the real legacy we leave behind. Material things will go into an estate that will be divided up and either retained or sold by your heirs, but the love you leave behind will be passed from one generation to the next thus giving you a kind of immortality that continues to live on long after you’re gone.

That’s it …. my top ten. I’m sure there are many others, but these are the first ten things that came to mind when I sat down to write this piece. Thus my final conclusion has journeyed back in circular motion to where it first began. There is wisdom in aging …. if you’re willing to slow down just long enough to take notice and then allow it to enrich your life.

Growing up doesn’t have to mean growing older …. at least not in conventional terms of how you look and feel, because with wisdom comes a beauty that shines from within.