Shades of Gray

I've grown very intimate with this little thing in life called, "emotions;" whether I want to or not. So much so that many nights I have lied awake praying for an OFF button so I could just get five minutes of peace from my own brain. 

When we are going through a heartbreak or a particularly difficult point in our lives, sometimes our emotions become confusing. I found myself at one point Google-ING mental health disorders and checking boxes to self-diagnose myself with some disease because, well, because I was feeling. Turns out, nothing is wrong with feeling and it is actually not a disorder, as much as the world tries to make us robots in the feelings department. I am not psychotic and I don't own fifty cats, yeah, baby kittens sure are cute, but it's just not my thing. But you know what IS my thing? Experiencing emotions as they come, and knowing that is okay. Sometimes life will bring me regret, sadness, pain, happiness, excitement, and sorrow... But to experience each one, I don't think you can leave out any. 

When I love, I love hard. When I laugh, my abs hurt. I've never really known an in-between and I've been told my whole life that this is some sort of fault; and quite frankly, I don't dig that. I think I was made in His image and there is a reason that I may FEEL differently than YOU feel. Or maybe you're sitting there reading this thinking, "Gosh I am so glad I'm not the only one." ((p.s. You're not the only one. I've met other people with a soul like mine)) 

I may not be able to coast in life. I may not be able to just be okay and fake a smile. I may not be able to hide my feelings. 

I do sometimes wear my heart on my sleeves, or rather, on my entire body and every article of clothing I own. I do sometimes cry at the most inopportune times. I do sometimes gawk at the yellow stop light because of how absolutely beautiful that shade is against the turning leaves of fall. ((I'm serious on that one. Autumn turns the most mundane things into gems; no kidding I sat at a yellow light in awe at how perfect the shade is against the fall leaves, check it out next time you hit the road)) 

I don't let everybody else dictate what I can and cannot feel. When I can feel. How I can feel. What I should feel. What is right or wrong to feel at what specific times. I let my heart, my mind, my experiences, and my faith dictate that. And it has taken me so long to get to this point where I am okay not letting anybody else tell me that; and being myself. I am at a point where I don't feel weak for having this plethora of emotions, but I feel strong for experiencing this and telling the world who I am, before it tells me first. 

So I guess what it all boils down to, is I don't know what gray is. I never did, and I hope one day, you too can experience the ferocity of human emotions without fear of holding back. 

Today just let yourself feel, and know that God gave you your unique personality and emotions to face the world with, and better yet, to shape the world with. He didn't make us all different so we could try so hard to be like one another!

Gray is over-rated. 

What is Love?

Baby, don't hurt me
Don't hurt me no more
Baby, don't hurt me
Don't hurt me no more.

What is love?!

Okay! Now that the soundtrack to this blog post is stuck in your head- let's continue!

 

I'm one of those hopeless romantics that truly believes love is what makes the world go round ((yeah, yeah... I get the gist, physicist.. angular momentum is a tiiiiny part of that too))

 

It's not something you can define, but something you feel. But as you know, I'm big on words...

 

Love fascinates me, intrigues me. It's not something you can define, but something you feel. But as you know, I'm big on words, so I thought- "What is love?" ((queue the soundtrack in your head again, you're welcome! ;))  Or rather, "How would you define love in words?" 

 

I asked a number of people to define love in 1-2 sentences, so without further adieu:  

 

 "Love is bacon."

Age 45

 

 "Love is being nice and kissing each other."

Age 8 

"Love is Blind, love is different in every relationship, love is what you make of it, when you are away from the person you're in a relationship with and your heart tingles that's love..

Love is when I'm too sick to wipe my own nose or ass!"

Age 42 

 

"Love is...what makes the world go round. It makes the ride worth it."

Age 26

"Selfless, vulnerable Love in the raw is terribly scandalous. It does not make logical sense... much like God Himself. They cannot be separated."

Age 22 

"If you love someone you will be or do anything for them....  What comes to mind is The Notebook, "If you're a bird, I'm a bird."

Age 32 

"Love is destructive beauty. It's eternal and never dies and could make or break you."

Age 17

"Love is inconsistent. It endures only through unconditional commitment."

Age 22

"The best and only definition of love is 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

Age 23

"Love is unbreakable and spans all space and time. It is unbiased and the most powerful thing in existence. Love is infinite."

Age 22 

"This is from a website I read once, "Love is like pushing a button and getting a cookie every time, but eventually you only get a cookie one in every 100 pushes, the other 99 times you get pooped on by a bird, but you still push the button waiting for that one time you get a cookie."

Age 23

"Love is light, love is warmth and kindness, love is honesty and truth.  Love is capable, love is worth, love is never immediate.  Love will always be eternal."

Age 34 

"Love is the chemical reaction in our brains that triggers an emotional response with a physical action to show we care about someone or something."

Age 23 

"Love is an act of expression. 

It means nothing if you don't show it."

Age 33

"To me love is caring. It's being willing to go to the ends of the earth for someone else's well being.  Love is meeting in the middle,  and not always getting your way. It's respect. It's trust. It's friendship and family. It's listening with an open mind and heart,  and being a shoulder to cry on at 2am when needed. Without love the world would shatter in isolation."

Age 20 

"Love is being able to trust and depend on another person without reservation. I also think love is a warmth- a "spark" in my heart when I see the other person coming to be with me. Love means listening carefully to the other person."

Age 89 

 

How would YOU define love? Shoot me a message or leave a comment below! I always LOVE hearing from you! 

 

...man, I love LOVE.

How do YOU define love?

 

 

 

I Dare You To Try.

People always say live for the moments that you can't put into words.

I challenge you to find words for those moments. 

I dare you to take those speechless, powerful, life-changing moments and search for words. Describe the smile on your face, the sweet smell surrounding you, the way your heartbeat mimicked that of a hummingbird. I dare you to break out of the chains that hold you down in your weakest moments. To describe the way his knuckles went white and his grip suffocating.

Writing is healing. Writing is remembering. 

So for those moments you couldn't find words to describe your pure bliss, I dare you to try. It's a memory worth the books. When you find the right words for an experience like that, you've unlocked the power to relive that moment no matter where you are at, no matter how many years down the road. 

As for the moments you would rather push so deep inside you that they will never be able to escape; I dare you to let them. Sit down with your pen and just bleed. But only do this on one condition- promise once you are done you will leave it on that piece of paper. You will let that memory live on that page, forever. You won't bury it beneath every possible layer you can in your heart, you will unpack that memory from your heart and build it a new home on paper. 

Writing can hurt, or it can heal. It can make you laugh uncontrollably or it can make you weep. 

I challenge you to find words when words fail you. 

I dare you to remember your happiest moments,

and build a home on paper for your worst ones. 

 



When a Rut Becomes Home

I’ve been stuck in a rut lately. I am not sure whether I got pushed into it, slipped into it by accident, or just jumped right on in on my own accord; but I’m here. What I realized though, is this hole I am stuck in is not like other ruts I have been in. The noticeably dark, scary, and dingy pits I notice myself in and am clawing at the walls to get out is not at all like the pit I am in right now. This one is well-decorated and comfortable. Actually, it is so comfortable that I could call it home.

You see, if we find ourselves in a bad situation for long enough, it eventually becomes home to us. The dark, scary place it may have been at the beginning is no longer how you perceive it in your heart. You see this scary place now as a comfort zone. For you, this may be a relationship that you aren’t fulfilled in and you stay there because it’s what is comfortable. For others, it may be a job that you have stuck with for years on end because the pay was good and the risk didn’t seem worth it to change. If you stay in this rut for long enough, you end up decorating the walls, dusting the cobwebs away, and putting your feet up for a while.

We reason our way out of that gut feeling that tells us to change. We may want to prove everyone else wrong, we may not trust ourselves or any other advice, and we may be relying on that comfort ‘pit’ to provide us with a sense of worth. It depends on what kind of rut you are stuck in, and how you got there to begin. What matters now is that you realize this hole you are in has been disguised as a comfy place to hang your hat; but it’s not.

This kind of rut is the last kind you want to be in, because you can’t get out without work…..And we don’t want to do the hard work it takes to get out. It’s uncomfortable; extremely. Although that hole you fell in was uncomfortable getting in, it’s now become home, so getting out is terribly uncomfortable.

I’m writing this to tell you that you can know freedom. You can know peace. A few tips I have found useful in my ongoing journey to step outside my comfort zone are as follows:

1.      Commit to getting out of the rut you are in.

2.      Recommit to getting out on a daily basis, on a moment to moment basis if you have to.

3.      Push your boundaries. You will discover that things that once were natural for you have become challenging. If you are uncomfortable in the situation, evaluate why, and then proceed if it is due to wanting to only remain in your comfort zone.

4.      Know that the butterflies in your stomach are a sign of progress!

5.      Enjoy the challenge ahead. There is a huuuuuge difference in doing what we know we should be doing, and doing what we have a desire to do. In the end, you will always go back to doing what you ultimately WANT to do, so make sure your desires and your actions are aligned with one another.

Addictions become our comfort zones.

Toxic relationships become our comfort zones.

Dead-end jobs become our comfort zones.

Ruts come in all different shapes and sizes; some with Gucci hand bags and fancy sports cars as a disguise; know when and how to recognize a potential pit in your life. Just because something is comfortable, doesn’t mean you should decorate the walls and live there.

 

Rate and Date

Why are we doing all this 'rate and date' stuff shit? Yes, it's shit. ((geez, I hate cussing.))

...okay I'm back from washing my mouth out with soap...

I've watched so many tiny girls post YouTube videos rating guys from 1-10, tagging them in a post, and giving one thing that they have to tell the truth about. I've watched guys do it too... A lot of guys.

Looks a little like this:
SPOILER ALERT: Reading this entire post may cause you to lower your IQ, or question the IQ of others. This happens in real life my friends. Soak it in.

Initial Post:
"LMS for a rate and tbh"
Response back:
Rate-9
date- nawww
Crush- maybeee
tbh- I told my friends we were dating when we were just talking because I thought you were cute

Where do I start?

• Should I talk about how demeaning it is to RATE somebody on a scale of 1-10?
• Should I talk about how shallow it is?
• Should I talk about how tacky it is?

Because it is all of those....Demeaning, shallow, and tacky.

It takes twelve seconds to formulate your entire opinion of someone in your mind when first meeting them. That being said, we are naturally, and easily, extremely judgmental people. A trait that once kept us safe from harm and life-threatening situations has now transpired into a full-fledged game of indirect bullying. You may think it is cute, flirty, and gets you attention. One of these things you would be correct, it certainly gets you attention; the wrong kind of attention, but attention nonetheless. If you are able to tag & rate 30 different guys/girls, you most likely don't have any real depth to any ONE of those relationships. So yes, you do get a few seconds when you cross someone's mind so they can join in on this game, but in the end, someone who is willing to put any NUMBER as your VALUE in their LIFE is not a friend you want to stick around for long, or start a relationship with.

Second, if someone rates you anywhere below a perfect ten, you get hurt feelings. Womp womp woooomp. You are officially cyber-bullying and/or BEING cyber-bullied. 

Also, starting conversations with the word "Confession" plastered in front is unnecessary. If you have to advertise that you are about to be honest for about five seconds and say what's truly on your mind, I worry about what the rest of your words encompass.  How about being honest and 'confessing' what is truly on your mind all of the time and see where it gets you....

"Confession: I think you're really fun to talk to."

No. Why do you even have to preface that with a big bold CONFESSION right in front?

Try talking with intention, or better yet, dating with intention.

"You're really fun to talk to, I'd like to take you out to dinner sometime, just get to know you a little better?"

Why is society telling us constantly it's not okay to know WHAT we want, and if we do, we are supposed to follow all these little dating rules. Stop with the pick up lines. Stop with the "confession alert" right before you say something sincere, stop rating and tagging thirty guys/girls in a post to get some attention.

Build some real relationships that will last. {{I mean yes, the video you just put on the internet will last... Forever, because again, you put it on the internet, but that's not the forever I'm talking about}}

I know I sound like a grandma that grew up walking uphill both ways to and from school carrying a cello in one hand and a bag full of books in the other, but I'm actually just a regular girl who's 22 and tired of seeing this onslaught of posts in my feed from people who are MUCH too old to be worrying about a 'rate and date' number and secret confessions. (Which to me, anywhere past middle school and it is WAY past time to move on from this) Time to focus on what's important... You know, the new Marvel movie "Guardians of the Galaxy" coming out! .... Okay kidding about the movie ((I'm not kidding))

Things like a home, a wife/husband, a job/career, your education, building relationships that will last a lifetime, not just a YouTube sensation.

For all those participating in the current "rate and date" and "confessions" cool thing to do... This may be the right time to reevaluate what the words rate and date mean.

Rate: What you should be worried about getting the best of on your car insurance, credit cards, mortgage, etc.
Date: What you should do to get to know someone instead of tagging them in a youtube video, FB status, or Twitter message.
TBH: I actually worry about the people I see doing this; like.. I have probably lost sleep over it. And by probably I mean I have. 

Sincerely,
The Girl Who is Not Cooler Than the Flip Side of Your Pillow

Don't Wait to Hit Rock Bottom

I've been told many times, "They will change when they hit rock bottom. They will want to make the changes for themselves at that point. You just have to wait."

While this is the case in many circumstances, it's also a fallacy we have been led to believe our whole lives. We think that once we can no longer handle our situation, we will put our foot down and make the change. However, when do we say, "enough is enough," and what truly qualifies as "rock bottom?"

The thing about reaching breaking point before you change, is that we are some resilient beings. We can tolerate so well. We will knowingly get deeper and deeper into a chaotic mess, and we as humans, adapt. We use coping mechanisms to just deal.....Leading us to never really hit breaking point.

Sometimes that resilient person is me. I can see this mess of things surrounding me, and I overlook it. I think, "if the going gets tough, I need to be stronger." I will start looking past things I once had standards for, I start not caring about things I once cared about, I start closing myself off and dealing with things myself. I start putting up walls, I start complaining and most of all, I start forgetting that I am the only person in control of my life. Not some magic that hitting rock bottom will inspire in my life.

I'm not alone. As I look around I see people tolerating their sucky jobs, getting heartbroken by toxic relationships, gaining weight and only eating more every day, spending money compulsively and neglecting their savings account for their dream vacation, drinking when they know it's too much.... We all do it.

We tolerate. We adapt. We are resilient.

 

Don't wait to hit rock bottom. It will most likely never happen.

Where in your life are you coasting? Are you tolerating your life or thriving in your life?

You may not be one of the lucky few to eventually hit that 'aha moment' of what we call rock bottom, make the change today.

The Heart Broken Heal Broken Hearts

I woke up this morning and couldn't help but smell the faint smell of a campfire, or rather, a wild fire. It instantly reminded me of the two Colorado fires I have been witness to, the Waldo Canyon Fire and the Black Forest Fire. One of them I watched flicker down the mountainside from my place of work until I drove home in an overheating car, and the other burnt down my childhood home and the homes of friends and families that I've known since preschool. Both experiences have tested and challenged me along with everyone I know; we all had different experiences. I'm not sharing how the natural disaster 'went down' for me, though. The point is not how much tragedy those fires caused, but how much camaraderie.

 

I woke up to the smell of fire and instead of instantly shifting my thoughts towards the hurt and sadness hundreds and hundreds of people are still experiencing, I thought of when I went to Village Inn when the fire was still roaring across those pine tree filled fields. This breakfast being actually one of my sweeter, most cherished memories.

 Nothing spectacular happened. I didn't meet anyone famous, I still had to pay for my own breakfast, all the calories I ate still counted, and I still sat in the same booth I always do. The thing that made this nonchalant trip to breakfast so good was the people surrounding me.

It was an experience that I've never seen before, and it makes me sad today to think that the only time we experience this is when a tragedy happens. Everyone was so concerned, so caring; everyone would open the door for the next person, they would smile when you passed them, they would hold a conversation with you although they didn't know you. The waitresses and waiters were treated with respect and thanked for their food and service. Many people were paying for other people's breakfasts simply because they knew how hard of a time they were going through.

People went out of their way to show kindness, in so many beautiful ways.

 

 

 Now if you read my blog often, you know I never show emotion; ever. Okay.... Kidding! I'm one of the most emotional people you will probably ever come across ;) But this time, it wasn't just me who thought this was so touching. You could see everyone's spirits be uplifted. You could feel the "togetherness" that we all shared, sitting in the little Village Inn that we've memorized which booth and waitress we like best. This time was different, and it's never been the same since.

Why?

 Why is it that tragedy can bring a group of people so strongly together, and once tragedy is gone, we are back to minding our own, not smiling at others, not paying for people's meals 'just because,' etc.

What I realized is that when the natural disaster happened, people KNEW without a shadow of doubt that others were in need. We could assume that even if your house was not currently on fire, your state was and even many that you knew. The heartbroken were helping heal broken hearts. But why is any other day now different?

We may not all be experiencing the same tragedy, but I can guarantee we are ALL still experiencing tragedy.

 

 I dream of the day mundane things like breakfast at Village Inn become memories we cherish because of the kindness of people; of strangers. I dream of the day people show kindness, openness, genuine concern, and giving attitudes every day, because it is every day that tragedies happen individually.

The fires may be put out, and the homes may be being rebuilt, but that doesn't mean it's time to hang up our hats on showing kindness and becoming one community.

With Love,

PhotoSoulSarah

"Why Do You W R I T E?"

I got asked the other day, "Why do you do it?" 

In a state of confusion, I asked "Do what?" 

 

"Why do you write if you don't even know anyone is reading. Doesn't it sometimes feel like a waste of time?" 

And to answer the question short and sweet:

"No. It does not ever feel like a waste of time, but thanks for your concern."

{albeit, rather rude concern..}

 

I write because it makes me happy to write, and I think people should do things that make them come alive and feel happiness.

{{If you haven't read my post about following your dreams, find it here }}

 

But to be honest; my answer should have been a lot more candid and truthful. So this is, stranger who asked me why I write, the real answer I owe you..

 

Sometimes I just stop in my tracks. I grab my phone or jot it down on a piece of paper...words catch my attention. Events, memories, smells, sights, desires.. They inspire me and I simply HAVE to remember 'whatever it was.'

 

And usually the things I write down are powerful for me; for self-realization. I have epiphany moments and maybe writing down two words helps wrap up this inner monologue and battle in my own mind. It may come weeks, months, or even years later, but when the words come to me, all is well. I gain a sense of clarity and understanding. But there's this crazy off-chance that maybe my two words will impact you as well. Yeah, I get it. It's far-fetched and absurd.... But maybe it's absurd to think that we're not all battling the same things. That we haven't all experienced the same emotions. Maybe it's far-fetched to think that my writing couldN'T impact someone struggling or dealing with the same things I am. That's why I write.

 

Maybe I will allow one person to go outside their comfort zone, to inspire someone to follow their dreams, to ignite a passion for life, to help someone else have an epiphany moment in this crazy thing called life. I write because sometimes I don't know what I think until I read what I say, and just maybe...there's a few other people like me out there.

 

I write because the world around me is filled with inspiration; I never want to forget that.......and there's this crazy, far-fetched, absurd chance... That it just might inspire you too. 

So whether it's watching 79 episodes of Netflix in a row, kissing your kids goodnight, getting lost in a good book, sculpting your near-perfect muscles, taking your dog on a walk, gardening, or whatever it is that makes you happy; do that. 

 

And most importantly,

don't let people question why you do it. 

 

 

With Love,

PhotoSoul Sarah.

Jival's Visitor

I don't think stories just appear on paper. I believe they snatch the author awake and drag them by their toes to their computer. Writing this story was a little like that for me... Hopefully the story speaks to you as much as it did me:

Jival's Visitor

A sharp ray of sun cut the room in half diagonally; and behind a visible curtain of dust was a bed just big enough for a child. A woman lay sprawled across this petite bed, her arm hung to the floor and her head turned to the side. Her eyes got lost behind the worry on her face. A warm glow washed over her skin, but the sight of her body lured in your eyes and hit you like a bullet. Her hip bones protruded from her sides, and her ribs pressed against her vibrantly colored shirt with each wheezing breath.

            Her struggling hand shifted from the floor to her stomach. She rested her fingers gently across her side. The skeleton of her body sunk into the bed, and the only rise in shape you could see was the roundness of her belly. Sadaf was nearly nine months pregnant with her second child; her first a boy of seven years now.

            Jival was full of life, his laughter filled the barren room. His almond-shaped brown eyes held back the tears he felt, and his smile brought forth the strength his mother needed. He would walk down to the river each morning at dawn with a pail half as big as him. He would splash in the cool water only when nobody was looking, and then rush to fill up the bucket and bring it to his mother. The dirt road got washed with spilled water as he trudged the long distance. He tried to be as careful as he possibly could, but somehow only came back with a half of what he had gotten at the shallow river.

            She would wash him each morning with this water; singing a soft song that was engrained in his memory. He would watch her lips as they sang the same soothing tune. Only this morning he noticed that they were cracked and dry. The color had disappeared and the outline was no longer defined. They fought to enunciate words that had come natural only just what seemed like the day before. Her voice became hoarse in the last line of the song. Jival’s eyebrows rose with worry.

            He watched Sadaf inch back over and lay on the bed, holding her stomach the entire time. Jival knew this was a sign he should go outside. He pulled on his thread-barren sandals and galloped outside. His mind was puzzled, but he wasn’t sure what to think. He ran to the edge of the road, and stopped instantly on the side of the road. A rugged car was making its way down his road; gliding over everything in its path.  Jival turned and ran as fast as his legs could carry him to where his mother lay.

            His words were flowing so fast Sadaf didn’t know what he was saying. Her hand rested on the boy’s shoulder and her words were calm and reassuring. Although she didn’t understand what he was so worked up about, she tried her best to assure him that nothing bad was happening. The boy’s mind raced to the hoarse tone of her voice that morning, and he peered at her cracked lips. He tried to tell her that someone was coming. He tried to tell her that it wasn’t family. He tried to tell her that is wasn’t someone walking or riding a bike. He tried, but he couldn’t muster up enough patience to get his words across.

            He stomped out of the house with frustration. He began to gather the sticks he had made into his toys, but heard his mother shriek. The lump in his throat got unmanageable and his stomach dropped. The sticks dropped to the ground in slow motion and his feet kicked dirt as he swiftly spun around to go inside. She was holding her stomach; grasping for the half-filled pail of water. Jival didn’t know what to do; he could only think of the car coming up the road.

            He looked at Sadaf boldly once, and then tore through the dirt road to the car. His frail hands were thrashing in the air, trying to gain attention. The car skidded to a stop. He wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do, or if he should have just asked his mother.

            A man with a freshly shaved face, and a firmly pressed shirt got out of the car. He had boxes of supplies in the back of his Jeep, and wore a metal device around his neck. Jival wasn’t sure if it was a necklace or some sort of torture device. The same look that crossed his face that morning came again. He tried to talk to the man. The man overpowered Jival with a deep, booming voice. He was scared and took steps backwards away from him. In the back of his mind his mother’s scream echoed and he gained ten seconds of pure courage. He grabbed the man’s giant hand and pulled him towards where Sadaf was.

            The man willingly raced with the child back to the hut. By the time they got to Sadaf, she was panting for air, screaming and holding her stomach. Her contractions were powerful and she was grabbing the side of the tiny bed with extreme force. Tears welled up in her eyes when she saw the man. She knew that he was a doctor. She saw the firmly pressed white shirt, and stethoscope around his neck. She reached out for his hand; she tried to scream for his help but nothing came out but hollow air.

            Jival felt his eyelids growing heavy. He felt his neck radiating heat and his mind blacking out. He fought through the dust filled room to get back outside. He sat against the mud-packed walls of the house until everything around him had a daunting shadow. He rested his head against the wall, and a bright star caught his attention. As soon as he saw the star, a piercing, whimpering cry belted out! 

            “MATA!” Jival said.

            Sadaf turned her head as her oldest boy ran to her side. She held out her arms and Jival rushed into them. The man in the Jeep was cradling her new son. He looked at Jival with fear in his eyes. He sensed this and looked back at his mother. Her weak arm motioned for him to see the baby. He walked as slow as he could all the way.

            The bottles of pills beside Sadaf’s bed were empty. The tops of the white lids were covered in dust, and the dates were from almost nine months prior. The jar of what-used-to-be coins next to the bed had only scraps of old metal. The glass reflected only the man’s image, no glint of money. The man picked up the bottles and looked back at her with disbelief. He told her he needed to go back to his Jeep to get supplies, he could help. She grabbed his hand, and it only took one look. She spent many months wondering if she would make it this far. Thanks to his help, she gave life to a new son.

            Her withered body lay enamored by her two sons. Jival was lost in his brother’s precious look, and the man turned his head to wipe the rush of tears flowing down his face.

 Jival was now a big brother; Jival was now an orphan.

Exhaustion had taken its toll; HIV/ AIDS had taken its toll. But that was then, and this is now. And something like that could never happen today.

"We Have Decided to Eliminate Your Position."

“Regrettably, we have decided that CCi will eliminate your position and you will cease regular duties effective February 04, 2014.”

               --One sentence that hit a conference room full of people like a bullet; their minds and hearts instantly racing.

An event transpired yesterday that left every employee at Everest University Online with a sadness and soaring uncertainty; an event that we were all blindsided by. Being laid off is no laissez-faire occasion, though. It’s about economics. It’s a numbers game- is the company hitting goal: OR NOT. Unfortunately, I lost my Everest family because the answer to that question was the “or not,” portion. We spend 40 hours, often times more, with our coworkers every week. So to put a title on the people I worked with daily, “coworkers,” does not suffice. I would venture to say, “family,” is the appropriate term here.

               Each of our stories is unique. Each of us have brought strengths, weaknesses, a sense of humor, an inspiring quote, a helping hand, a smile in the hallway, and even a daily cartoon for some comic relief! I started working at Everest in September 2012, wide-eyed and excited. As the years passed, my Everest family has guided me through a rollercoaster of life events. From relationships, family health, college, how to do taxes, how to show up on time, how to have a solid work ethic, how to accept change and thrive, and how to just live. My family there has been there with me through all my struggles, and through all my joys. I have gotten advice that is priceless; I have made friendships for life.

And instead of being bitter, angry, hurt, and confused, I plan on using all that and running with it. I am laid off, but I am unbelievably grateful to have had the opportunity to work with such amazing individuals. To build me up, to tell me I am worthy, to remind me of my strength. Being laid off is hard. Being laid off means questioning how to pay my rent, how to get groceries, how to keep my cell phone on, how to put gas in the car, and where my next turn will be. How to take care of those around me……

But it does not define me.

Mike Jenkins once poured his heart out to us in the same conference room we got laid off. His words stuck with me. He said he used to play a mean game of basketball, by himself outside his barn. As we circled the room with what contributes to success, I jokingly said, “It takes a mean game of recruiting students.” And as that was a mere 5 second exchange, a lot can be found in those words. Our leaders didn’t start at the top. They started with a dream… His dream was fueled by prayers. He spoke of praying by his bedside and then finding clarity. Knowing that, “All is done.” He, along with many others, have had to make sacrifices to fuel the company from an economic standpoint. We may look at them as the enemy because they still have a career, they still have money to take care of THEIR families, and now we don’t. But as you go through the stages of loss, remember that they are going through the same. Seeing the tears in people’s eyes, seeing the pale faces and shaking the clammy hands- it is a loss for us all. As humans we tend to dissociate our leaders with emotions. They got ahead by not having emotions, they have it ‘in them’ to lay us off- that’s not true. Think about their heavy hearts as they go home tonight. Having to give the news to a room full of confused, angry, sad, scared people….. That’s a moment they will never forget.

               The point of my little tirade is this, this moment was awful for all parties involved. The leaders that delivered the news, the ‘survivors’ that watched us walk out the door, the families that are now uncertain of what comes next, and each and every one of us that is now in the race for another job- a way to provide. The reality of the situation hits hard when you have to face family, friends, and loved ones and tell them the news. Don’t let this define your worth, though.

Life is about health and happiness.

Yesterday, and the days to pass, are a challenge. We will face days all too often with tears in our eyes and struggles before us. Negative emotions are all-consuming, and loss of hope is a killer. But please do not get bogged down in the negative emotions that an event like that will inspire. Remember, you are worthy, you are talented, and above all- You are strong.

I can not WAIT to see all that everyone accomplishes.

You have made a difference in my life- and I know wherever this road takes you- you will make a difference in the lives of many, many others!!

All the possibilities now right in your fingertips. Like a phoenix, we will rise from the ashes!

Praying for each and every one of us involved. I am sure each one of us has, or still is, going through the motions- experiencing denial, anger, fear, feeling helpless, depression, and then acceptance. So in writing this, understand I am too. I am writing this to all involved, and myself.

Remember this-

We worked to change lives.

 It’s time to kick ass and take names- and go change YOUR life.

Oh and P.S. If you have never heard the soundtrack from the children’s movie, “Frozen,” called, “Let it Go,” please go do so now. Listen to this verse below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=moSFlvxnbgk

It's funny how some distance,
Makes everything seem small.
And the fears that once controlled me,
Can't get to me at all.
It's time to see what I can do,
To test the limits and break through!!!...
No right, no wrong, no rules for me.
I'm free!

LET IT GO! Let it go!
Here I stand, and here I'll stay.
Let the storm rage on.
AND I'LL RISE LIKE THE BREAK OF DAWN