How's the Tide?

I'm sure if you have been on the internet, or watched the news in the last week you have heard of the Tide Pod challenge. If somehow you haven't, let me break it down for you. It's a new viral video challenge where kids (mostly teens, or there abouts) eat, or least chew a Tide laundry detergent pod. I have heard a lot of people talking about how kids have gotten so stupid anymore. That kids would have never attempted that sort of thing when they were younger.

Let me tell you a story.

This takes place in the before time. Before Internet. BI There aren't any pictures of it, but it happened.

When I was around middle school age there was a group of girls in the grade above me that decided to try a kind of challenge of their own. I didn't sit at their table, so I wasn't privy to their plan, or specifics. All I know is one day one of them proposed that they sniff laundry detergent. They all agreed, and one of them offered to bring the powdered substance to school the next. A plan was born. The next day at lunch the detergent was brought out of one of their lunchboxes, and distributed among the girls participating. I am not sure if they all did it at once, or if they were taking turns, or if several did it at once. All I know is that suddenly there was a commotion.

Happy New Year from Level 39 :)

Today was the first day of 2018. I don't really get into the whole 'new year, new me' type of thing, but I do like to take some time in late December and the first days of January every year to reflect on my life. With my always [over]thinking brain my life, and it's direction,  purpose, and meaning is probably something I reflect on about every other day, if I were to be honest. Heh. I probably never fully stop thinking about it. There is just something more appealing, more magical about the concept of evaluating one's place in life at this time of year. Possibly because others are partaking, and it's a good time to share with each other our visions of future goals, and past aches.

As I sit in my quiet, dim lit living room sipping sleepytime tea as the clock approaches midnight I struggle to come up with concrete words to define what I would like to do in this upcoming year. I think the irony hits me that at an age where I am feeling more and more content with me, my physical body is beginning to flail, and gray hair is now the norm, if I dared to skip the dye for more than a few weeks. My youth is quickly fading into the distance, but I have never felt more alive. I don't mean this in the way of not having struggles, or that I began meditating, and now inner peace has beget me. Not at all. It's deeper than that. It's not a skill, or a place. It's more of a state of being that I've acquired, like a level in a game. Ha. It sounds pretty cool to say that I'm level 39, and have collected wisdom points. But, I have, and not everyone will be the same on level 39, but that is where I am.

I don't know what's different. I can't find any one thing to tease out of this tangle of inner concepts of feelings, and well being to definitely say, "This is what changed." I just know that I feel as if no matter what happens I'll be okay. even if I'm not okay, I will be okay again. As a matter of fact, I can bet that there are gonna be times in life that are so hard, that are so arduous that I won't be okay, I won't feel okay, but I will exit out on the other side, eventually. The only for sure thing in life is that there will be challenges, and smooth times, and mostly in between times, but the difference between now and earlier is that I felt like I might not be able to handle them. I didn't enjoy much of the good times, because my anxiety was always preparing me for a bad one, as if a person can ever be prepared for life's extreme challenges, anyway. It doesn't matter how hard we try, or how much we think we can, we can never truly prepare for situations like loss, and catastrophe. Losing people we love, and life shattering events, and even facing our own mortality are pieces of life that we try to predict with worry to give ourselves the illusion of control, but in the end we have none. We try to make sense of the patterns through the chaos of life, because we fear the fragility of it all. One thread might unravel everything. While that's true, I know that I can face it. I can fall into turmoil, and come back out again. I know this because I've done it again and again. Nothing is permanent, least of all not an adaptable human such as we all can be.

This whole different way of filling out my own skin has opened me up to accept more positive experiences. I don't fret with worry as much anymore. I don't find myself as dragged dow