You. Go. Here.

 Live a life of courage: persevere when you feel like giving up, stand up for those who cannot stand up for themselves, and invest in the future with optimism. -Sheree Parris Nudd I think I’ve finally figured out my religion.As I read more and more articles and hear more people speak, my contempt for the organized sectors grow. I no longer believe in the traditions of a denomination that I’ve followed since birth- rather, I’ve started believing in the tangible I see before me- the people. Do I think there’s a heaven, or hell? As much as I’d like to believe that all the suffering or exhorbant behavior of some matter in another time- I think that we’re creating our own heaven and hells by our behavior. I had a hell of a January. From personal relationships gone awry, to work lay-offs, to a child that seems to be morphing into a petri dish of cold and flu. I finally reached the end of my proverbial rope this weekend, and instead of tying a knot and hanging on? I let go.   My daycare lady, (being the upstanding citizen she is,) forged old checks to pay herself for when my child wasn’t in her care. Then my rental car, (because someone t-boned my car,) was towed from out in front of my house out of error, then my daughter battled a freak toe infection and then- my bank account or lack-there-of, hit a brick wall… just like me.  Friends were there- out of woodwork, they came with hugs or cheers as I tried to muster the composure to not cry at my desk, or hurl things. I prayed silently to someone I wasn’t even sure I existed for a manifestation- of the good I was trying to be and accomplish- to show me that I was doing it correctly. And- in my moments of weakness, when I believed the world became shit and I was merely trudging through it all- people showed their grace and renewed my spirit.  I won’t pretend it’s normal. I don’t know why it all happened. I won’t even pretend that I didn’t curse people at the top of my lungs, or that with every other blow I pondered ridiculous things. I stopped writing, and kept floating- I couldn’t seem to find the words or the care to really wonder where it was all going.  I’m hoping that was it- my quota of collisions with people who robbed and hurt- and freak situations that could only happen to someone entirely incapable of facing them.  We have such power- I remind myself of this daily. My actions affect you- and yours, me. The greed of all of us from years back, is affecting our children, and if self-regret could build a better economy, we’d be back in the mid-nineties.  It’s February, bitches. I’m on a roll.