Archive | February 2015

Hiding behind a mask – Fooling no one but myself.

George Bernard Shaw said – Better keep yourself clean and bright; you are the window through which you must see the world.

I was in hiding for years; I tried with all my might to summon strength enough to pull myself up and into the light of life, but I always seemed to remain imprisoned within the shadows of my heart; at least I thought I was. I realized one day everyone could see me. The invisible walls I thought concealed and contained me were nothing more than an illusion of my own making. My vision tainted by the very mask I’d been using to hide.

Throughout my life I’ve tried on various masks, some were to hide from fear, some from pain, some from memories. None of them ever fit just right, but I slipped each one over my soul, disregarding the discomfort. I became used to it. I convinced myself I donned each mask for the sake of someone else. I fooled myself into thinking I could never be without one.

Horace Mann – Lost, yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered, for they are gone forever.

I feared what would be thought of me if the ones I loved knew all my truths, my fears, and my failures, real or perceived. I didn’t want them to see who I was because I had somehow forgotten my real self, I’d buried her beneath unrealistic, self-imposed responsibilities and expectations. I was crushed beneath the ideals of who I thought I was supposed to be. I don’t know how much I missed, how much of me I robbed from those I loved while pretending to be more or less of who I actually was.

Now, I think back on it and I’m not certain what it was I actually feared. I knew they would not stop loving me, but the little voice that so often whispers words only we can hear, told me they would think I was weak. It told me I had to hide, no one could know of my secret shames even though deep down I knew I’d nothing to be ashamed of. But that little voice told me to hide it all, so I hid.

Japanese proverb – Fear is only as deep as the mind allows.

I tried to hide from my family and my friends, but the one I tried the hardest to hide from was myself. I didn’t want to face what I saw as flaws and inadequacies. I turned away from myself so I would not be forced to look upon what I thought were my failures. I thought if I stayed hidden and just played the role of the person I imagined I was supposed to be it would make it all easier. I was wrong.

Confucius – Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.

The person I pretended to be was stronger and braver and smarter than I thought I was. The fake self I presented to the world fooled no one but me. The fear and the doubt I didn’t want anyone to see, that I didn’t want to feel, was always right there beneath the surface of my faulty facade. It was the dark that dimmed the light in my eyes. I was wrong to think I needed to hide who I was and how I felt. It took me a long time to realize and recognize my only true fault was trying to hide who I was.

Robert Louis Stevenson – To be what we are, and to become what we are capable of becoming, is the only end of life.

It turned out I was human, and it was actually okay to be human. I found my strength in what I thought was weakness. I am stronger than I ever imagined I could be. I found faith in myself through my fading doubt. I still struggle, but I believe in myself more than I ever thought was possible.

My flowing tears were healing rivers and my broken heart mended my soul. There was a time I thought I needed to hold back the flood, that it would somehow drown me, I found instead, releasing it allowed me to breathe again. What I thought was heartbreak was heartache that simply needed nurturing.

Siren Kierkegaard – There is nothing with which every man is so afraid as getting to know how enormously much he is capable of doing and becoming.

Sometimes, I still hear that awful little voice telling me I’m not worthy of even myself. I no longer listen, I choose not to listen and I choose to be who I truly am. I admit to sometimes smiling when I do not feel like smiling, I say I’m okay when I may not really be, but I catch myself. I refuse to allow myself to find comfort beneath those masks even though sometimes, for a moment, they offer a sense of security.

I am on a journey, as we all are, a journey of discovery and change that began the moment we breathed our first breath and will only end when we’ve breathed our last. I am discovering who I am. I am someone who can ask for help and not feel as though I’ve admitted to failure in doing so. I am someone who sheds tears that must be shed without feeling weak. I am someone who cannot do it all alone. I am someone who knows more than she once did, someone who looks forward to what the future may hold instead of fearing it or letting the past dictate where it might lead.

I am someone . . . simply me.

As George Eliot once said, It is never too late to become what you might have been.

Crystal R. Cook

The man of my dreams was the one I never dreamed of.

Feb2

In honor of all the mush-gushy-gooey-lovey-dovey stuff February always inspires, I thought I would dust off an old piece – I’ts simple and maybe a little silly, but it always makes my heart smile . . .

When I was a little girl, I dreamed, as little girls quite often do, of the man I would one day marry. I just knew he would be a super hero. He would have the ability of flight, the power to read minds, and he would obviously be capable of leaping the tallest of buildings. Our lives would be filled with adventure.

Then one day I realized what a silly little girl fantasy that had been, Super hero, ha! I was going to marry a rock star of course. He would have totally cool hair and look amazing in spandex. He would compose epic ballads about our love and dedicate all his albums to me.

One day though, that dream faded as well. I came to realize men simply don’t look good in spandex and I would never want to spend my life with someone who had better hair than I did. I was growing up and my dreams were growing with me, I realized I would obviously need someone quite rich to make me happy.

The older I grew though, the more I simply wanted companionship. I soon concluded unless I met a man who had a huge inheritance, he would have to work all the time to make the big bucks I thought I desired, leaving me alone and miserable. They say money cannot buy happiness and I believe them.

So, I would marry a free spirit, an artist perhaps or a wandering poet. We would hitch-hike the world with only our love to guide us. This was the most fleeting of my fantasies. I’d heard hitch hiking was dangerous; I really hated camping out and the thought of snuggling up after being on the road for a week without a shower was more than a bit unappealing.

So that left me only one choice, I came to the final conclusion I would never marry. I would make my own way in the world without the pressure of finding that perfect man. I was at peace. It sucked. I knew I really didn’t want to be alone for the rest of my life so I decided to simply wait and see who God would send my way.

I tucked my dreams of the man I someday may have married in a little pocket of my heart, keeping them safely hidden away. Those dreams hadn’t crossed my mind for years until one afternoon, while folding boxer shorts and matching up itty bitty baby booties, it hit me like a ton of bricks . . .

It had happened. I was married, had been for some time actually. My dream of a lifetime love had become a reality while I wasn’t paying attention. My dream man can’t fly nor can he leap tall buildings, and thank God he can’t read minds, but he is a super hero of great magnitude in the eyes of our children.

He could never be a rock star, keeping time to the rhythm of a beat is not one of his strong points, he does sing softly with the radio sometimes, it always brings a smile to my heart. His doesn’t have to tease his hair each day and thankfully does not own any pants made of spandex.

He may not be rich, but he works hard to provide for us. The love we share makes us wealthy beyond measure; the happiness in our home could have never been bought.

He is more of a perfectionist than a free spirit. He’s soft-spoken and sweet. He may not be a poet, but his whispered words of love are precious and sincere.

I’m glad I’d forgotten to remain true to my vow of solitude. God, in his infinite wisdom, had sent to me the perfect love and made all of my dreams come true.

Crystal R. Cook

One is silver and the other’s gold.

Feb1

I’ve been a silent observer of life and its many fascinating facets since the moment I was given eyes to see. One of the most intriguing, and I must admit confusing, aspects of it all is friendship, at least for myself. I’ve come to the conclusion having a small, if not very small, close-knit group of like-minded, yet diverse friends is a satisfying and healthy alternative to the dramatic realm of all that comes with maintaining a rather large grouping of friends.

I’m not what you would call a social butterfly, I’m not even a social caterpillar. I’ll stay right here in my cozy little cocoon thank you. It’s not that I don’t desire friendship or that I shun it when it is offered, I simply don’t seem to fit into many of the molds people think friends should fit into. I don’t care to talk on the phone, I don’t care to go shopping and I don’t care to go out with anyone but my husband or an occasional date with one of my kids.

Many of the women I meet have younger children, my days of parks and play dates have passed. My children face challenges a lot of people either cannot or do not want to understand. Being an autism mother sets you apart from the crowd much of the time. I don’t mind, they say good friends are hard to find, and they are, especially when your life is filled with the trials and triumphs that come along with having special needs children.

Throughout my life I haven’t had many friends, just a select few, including my mother, the best friend I could have ever hoped for. The treasured few friends I have in this life are far in distance, but close in heart. I have mostly memories and mementos I treasure, remembrances of the friends I have been blessed with in this life. Truthfully, I’ve always kind liked it that way. I never thought I needed anything more.

I wasn’t looking when new friendship found its way to me, I was hesitant at first to open myself up to a group of new people, I will forever be thankful I did. Before I met them I used the internet for research, for fun and distraction, now, it is my lifeline to old friends and new.

Like I said, being a mother with special needs children makes for difficult connections sometimes. I found myself in an online group, an autism support group. I thought if anything, I could help others who were following the same path I had traveled since my children were born. I never expected to find support or encouragement for myself, I only wished to give it.

What I found was unexpected and amazing. They embraced me and drew me in, we became a family as we pointed and clicked our way forward. I will never have words enough to thank them for being there for me when I didn’t know I needed them to be. That was years ago, they are still there for me as I am for them. It’s a different kind of friendship, we don’t hang out or have weekend barbeques. We don’t power walk at the mall or go for coffee in the afternoons, but we are always a click away from each other. In recent months, I have found myself immersed with and surrounded by another bastion of new characters I think safe to call my friends.

For me, this beautiful, distant connection is perfect. I am not like most women. I do believe friendship is a wonderful thing, in moderation.

I am not one of those women who have a phone directory filled with names and numbers of people I like, don’t like, tolerate, get the good gossip from, always asking for favors or any of the other unknown reasons women flock together for. I’d blame it on my years of being a military wife, seeing people come and go in and out of our lives, but I know it has nothing to do with that. I was like this even as a small child. I wasn’t anti-social, I just preferred my books. I would rather sit down and write a story than go out and ride bikes on most days.

I’ve always held tight to my beliefs and stood strong on my convictions and that hasn’t changed, but it has changed the people who choose to stay in my life. I have high standards when it comes to the people I allow in. I’m not referring to social status, financial brackets, looks, background, race or religion. I am talking about character and I have found a lot of people just don’t have any.

I want friends who are not afraid to disagree with me and still stand beside me regardless of our differences. I want friends who will give as much as they receive and I want friends who will accept me for who I am just as I would accept them. I want real friendships, friends who do not pretend to be one person in front of me and then another in front of someone else.

It seems to me, through observation, people tend to change ever so slightly (some not so slightly) when in the company of varying friends. I find it odd to watch the dynamics which take place within large groups of friends. Too often I see underlying jealousy or subtle sabotage taking place. I see heartache and desperation when one is wronged and the others are left not knowing which side to cling to. It’s all a bit too much for me.

I do not easily open up and trust, when I do, it is wholeheartedly. I have been hurt because of this, but I have also been blessed with the purest of friendships because of it. I don’t know when or where my next friend will cross my path, I do not know if it will be a forever friendship or a wonderful passing gift. I am not in a hurry to welcome new people into my heart, but if someone comes along who can measure up to those who have come before her, I will with open arms. She will have big shoes to fill for they have been well-worn by angels.

Crystal R. Cook

Ready to get compassionate?

Feb1

It’s February, and that means we are one month closer to warmer weather, and more importantly, it also means February 20th is right around the corner! On that day, the 1000 Voices Speak for Compassion crew will begin spreading compassion across the interwebs like a wildfire.

Actually, they’ve already begun. You may have heard of us or seen #1000Speak somewhere while surfing the net, if you haven’t clicked on it, googled it, or become a voice, you might just want to give it a look-see. We would love to hear your voice.

What does compassion mean to you? Have you witnessed compassion in action? Have you been compassion in action?

Tell the world about it!

Sometimes, when so much of what we see is negative, we feel like there is nothing we can do to change things. It’s all so big and we are so small, but here’s the thing . . . It only takes one small act to brighten one persons world, to change it for the better. It takes one helping hand, one moment of understanding, one-act of compassion.

Imagine the difference we could make if everyone took up the mantle of compassion, if the ones they touch do the same for someone else and it creates a beautiful spark, suddenly — hearts are on fire.

You don’t have to be a member of 1000 Voices Speak for Compassion, you just have to incorporate compassion into your life, into your world. Of course, we would love to see your stories, your thoughts, and feelings — On February 20th share them on your social media, let your friends and family know you are going to be a part of the change this world so very much needs.

Share a story, a favorite quote, a picture . . . tweet to #1000Speak, share your thoughts on compassion and get out there and put it into action.

Crystal R. Cook