April Fool's Flowers

A man brought me flowers yesterday, a dozen April Fool’s flowers, a bouquet of beauty filled with much more than I expected.  Well, the fact I didn’t expect them, had no idea they existed …for me, had no inkling or clue they were destined to be placed into my hand made them even more spectacular.  They’re just roses.  But they’re the most beautiful roses I have seen in a very long time, because they’re mine and were meant for me.

I had expected my April Fools to be lonely, to be quiet, and to pass by with a whimper.  I had brought a dozen donuts to work for my co-workers and it took them half a day to start eating them, because they expected a prank, a joke, or a surprise. They came from me, after all – the witty girl always up for a prank. No, they were just donuts that I had bought for a party I had with my girlfriends a couple days before and were never going to eat. I was surprised that I hadn’t planned any prank or joke – because I love to laugh and bring laughter to others more than anything else.  But, it just wasn’t in me this year. It was a bit of a sad occasion, a reminder of a lost love.

No, I expected my April Fool’s evening to go by forgotten and lonely.  I went home after work with plans of doing laundry, vacuuming my condo, working out on my treadmill - since it was too cold to hang out by the pool, cook me a sensible dinner, watch a little television and fall asleep reading. Not a bad evening, but nothing spectacular, nothing surprising, and definitely nothing exciting.  I’m glad the universe had other plans. I appreciate that a smart, handsome, romantic, spontaneous – super mysterious (ha ha) man had other plans and wasn’t afraid to interrupt mine.  I didn’t expect him. I didn’t ask for him. I didn’t seek him out. Yet, he found me anyway and I had a Cinderella evening on an April Fool’s Day.  I had doors opened for me, smiles directed at me, laughter shared with me, and a kiss I felt all the way to my toes. But, there was another part of me, one deep down I tried to ignore, one that kept waiting for the clock to strike mid-night, and the other shoe to drop - for the April Fool’s joke to be revealed – because how could all this be for me? But, that joke never came. 

I have divided that dozen roses into several different vases throughout my condo to remind me everywhere I turn - that it’s okay to be Cinderella sometimes. It feels good to be wanted, to be valued, and to be pursued.

I don’t know how this fairy tale will evolve, if it will bloom into a grand tale or become something the Grimm brothers would appreciate. I will not worry about tomorrow. Maybe I will be the fool. Maybe not. I will appreciate the moment for what it has been so far. I have a huge smile on my face today. I will hope for a better future, and no matter that future I will always love and appreciate my April Fool’s Flowers.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

http://tlgray.blogspot.com/

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Letter From a Reader

Awww... I want to cry. I just received the following message from someone that reads my blog. BTW - I responded and told him I appreciated his letter and that I won't publish his name, but that I wanted share what he wrote because it touched me. He answered, "I figured as much. I read your blog everyday. I think I had an idea of how you'd respond. Thanks for respecting my privacy and you're more than welcome to share my words."


Anyway: Here's his message:


Dear, T.L.,


Yes, I'm writing with a greeting. I can't help it. It's how I was taught to write. I'm from the old school of things. When a man wants to write a letter to a lady, he should open with a greeting.


I know we've never met but I've been reading your blog for almost a year. I first stumbled upon it reading a review you wrote for Anthony Ryan. By the way, that was one of the best book reviews I've ever read. I purchased the book immediately and Mr. Ryan didn't disappoint. Raven's Shadow was everything you'd written and more. I hope Mr. Ryan appreciates your enthusiasm for his work.


I'm not writing to flirt with you, only to tell you what reading your blog has meant to me. It's literally changed my life. I'm highly professional and somewhat of a high profile, but inside I struggle trying to self identify. I've lived my life being defined by everyone else around me. In my case, it's been a good definition. I can't complain.


Some of the things you've written touched me very deeply. There were times I misdirected those feelings, believing perhaps I was falling in love with this beautiful soul being poured out week after week in front of me, but I kept telling myself you weren't real, more than likely a created persona to enhance your writing career. Yes, I'm a skeptic. I'm in the entertainment business and question everything. Just when I'm convinced of this created persona, you then write something so naked, so heart-breaking, you'd literally have me weeping at my desk. I knew in those times that you were a real person and you were being honest while sharing the intimate pain of your life.


So many times I wanted to write to you and tell you how beautiful you were to me. I've seen some of your pictures and think you're a very pretty woman, but the beauty I witnessed poured out in those blog posts have greatly exceeded your pretty face. It broke my heart to see you often doubt yourself, doubt your worth, and believe yourself to be unlovable. It boggles my mind how you're alone. I wish there were more like you in this world. Every time I received a new email notification that you've posted a new article, my hope was always to find you'd found your happiness. I wouldn't have to wait long when you would post again and it be something happy, something brave, something that showed you did see yourself as the beautiful soul you really were. I sometimes pondered if you were perhaps bipolar because you often went from one extreme to the next. I slowly began to understand your process. All this time I had felt like you were writing to me, or at least to a captive audience, but you were not. You were the audience. You have been the targeted reader all along. I want you to know you're simply amazing.


I don't have a blog and never will. I'm not as brave as you to expose myself the way you do, but I am taking a page from your example. I've started writing a journal to myself. The first few entries were stilted, odd, and somewhat confusing, but freeing at the same time. I'm not the same caliber of writer as you, but seeing my words on the page helped me see them in a different light and understanding. I'm learning a lot about and not struggling so much with self identity. You've restored my faith in people. You've reminded me about the important things.


I want to thank you Ms. Gray for sharing your heart with unknown strangers as myself. I sincerely hope you find the happiness you're searching for. That man will be one of the luckiest men in the world, because I have no doubt he will be loved like he's never been loved before and appreciated like he's never been appreciated before. I may not know you, but I know your heart. You once wrote a post about why you call someone in your life Beautiful. You, my dear, are the truest example of Beautiful I've ever seen. I work with beautiful faces every day, but they do not possess the kind of beauty I witness in you.


Please keep writing. I believe you're changing many hearts across this world, not just mine.


Sincerely,

Your Faithful Reader


*** With a hand full of tissues, I'm wiping the wet tears off my face and gobs of snot dripping from my nose. *** This just made my day. Hell, it's made my week, my month, and probably my year!!!!

Happy Veteran's Day

Happy? Is that the right word to use? I’m not sure. When I think of veterans it is not happiness I feel, but awe, respect, deep passion, love, and admiration. Most often the feeling is so much bigger than I can contain, and much more than I can often express.

I know many veterans. I’m not surprised that I’m drawn to them, because they’re beautiful to me. I’ve never worn the uniform, was never married to one, for that matter I’ve never even officially been a girlfriend to anyone who’s worn those colors– but I have loved, love, am loved, and have been loved by veterans.

It’s not surprising that my three best friends in the world, the three people I love and admire most, are soldiers. I can’t imagine my life without either one of them, and I hope I never have to live that reality. They’re my heroes, my inspirations, my muses, my friends. Not for anything particularly they’ve done in service, but for who they are as individuals. One is my heart. One is my conscious. One is my soul.

There was a soldier who once had all three parts of me, but he lost his life in Somalia in 1993. I can’t tell him what he meant to me, how much I admired him, how much I appreciate his service and his sacrifice, his love, his dedication, or his commitment. Somewhere deep inside I’m still waiting on him to come find me. I’m always waiting, even though I know he will never come. One of my best friends says he doesn’t believe there is anything beyond death, beyond this life. I don’t know if that’s true or not, I can’t prove anything. I’ve died twice, and saw nothing, but that doesn’t mean something doesn’t exist. All I know is that deep in my heart I hold a hope and a faith, wrapped in the love I had for my soldier, that love will never die. Love is still alive, even if my soldier is not. I believe it will still live even when I do not any longer. Love is bigger than me, bigger than this body. The love I have for my friends – it’s not just a physical love – but a love that transcends the body, more than something the mind can comprehend, and deeper than the soul can contain.

I can’t tell my lost soldier I love him, but I can tell the soldiers that are still in my life. They’re beautiful to me. I often call them that - Beautiful. I’m not sure they understand why I use that term. It’s not in reference to their looks, appearances, or physical features (they are sexy as hell though), but toward the colorful essence wrapped in admiration I see and feel when I look at them or think about them. It’s beautiful. Why them? I can’t tell you why my heart chose them, there’s no logical reason, it just did. I’ve tried so hard to push them away, to forget about them, to not love them with such a deep love, but I fail in every attempt. I think I try to push them away because I’m so scared I will lose them.

When I tell a veteran “thank you” - it’s not just for them and their service, but through them to all those who have served, are serving, and who’ve never come home. It’s appreciation for the life they’ve voluntarily chosen, to give up their daily freedom for one of structure, rules, regulations, duty and service in order to grant me the freedoms and protections I enjoy. Military life is hard. For many, when they’ve returned home after combat they will find civilian life is complicated and filled with difficulty and struggle to fit into the chaos. Lots of heroes come home to rejection, betrayal, confusion, hardship, disrespect, doubting who they are or the value of their lives. I can’t love them all, but I can love them through my three best friends and the military friends I make along the way – by loving them as much as I can.

I thank God for my veteran friends. You are my heroes, and I’m honored to call you friend. I love you with the deepest love of my heart.

PV2 J. A. Sandlin – thank you for your service and your friendship.

Sgt. J. L. Suwak – thank you, Ranger, for your service and your friendship.

Sgt. T. E. Solano - thank you, Drill Sergeant, for your service and your friendship.

I know many more soldiers, marines, pilots, reservists and sailors… too many to name them all because I’m sure I’d forget one in the mix. Forgive me if I do. M.C. Nannenga, D. Mathis, J.T. Watkins, F.A. Rogers, T. Bucher, G.G. Goad, S.M. McDowell, R. Swanson, B. Cerros, B. Christopher, T. Sharpton, C. Tinsley, J. Byrd, J. Banks, J. Sprunk, M. Lawrence, M. Cole, M. Sullivan, S. Hardegree, P. George, R. Conner, S. Formby, R. Herbster, T. Kervin, Z. Starnes.



Thank you all for your service.  

Good Morning, World - 04-23-2014 - Say Something

Lately, I’ve had a few conversations with some of my closest friends about the subject of not being guaranteed a tomorrow. It creates a need to be appreciative and a desire to express love while there’s still time.

My heart overflows with love and admiration to those who own a piece of it. They’re precious to me. I can’t describe the depth of my love for them, because it’s bigger than me, more beautiful than any word I know. They are a bright spot in a dark world, a warm beam of sunlight in a field of ice.

I am rich because I possess the greatest treasure this world has to offer – I am loved, and am able to love in return. This world is hard and angry. I taste its bitter tang every day. I see its vicious negativity as it tries to pull me down into its depth and snuff out my bright spots. The toxicity of negativity, pain, and victimhood is detriment to my joy and happiness and I choose to push that negativity away from me like a deadly disease.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Never Satisfied

One of my good friends always complains to me that I’m never satisfied.  It hurts my heart they feel this way, because it often upsets them.  I’m sure it makes them feel like their efforts toward me, and the love they’ve invested in me, are being wasted.  I’m often at a loss for words when they express their frustration, because it’s hard to explain to them exactly how much their effort and love mean to me. 

They are right.  I’m not satisfied, and that’s a purposeful effort, and a hard one to maintain. 

When I was younger and filled with hope, despite how dark life was around me, I fought hard against accepting the life offered, and refused to be satisfied with the hopelessness I was being fed.  I knew I deserved a better life and wanted more, so I fought against prejudice, oppression, and abuse, seeking a better life, a life worth living for, a life of happiness, peace and respect.  I nearly killed myself in this pursuit, both physically and spiritually. 

Somewhere along the way I lost love for myself and zeal to fight. I began to die.  I forgot about that feisty little rebel and became a zombie – going through the motions but dead on the inside.  Thanks to a spark of life and the blossoming love I’m building for myself, and the love I’ve received from my dear friends, and the love I have for them, I’m being reborn.  I’m fighting for myself. I’m fighting for my future. I’m fighting for my dreams.

So, NO – I’m not satisfied.  I hope to always want more. I hope to always seek better. I will never get enough, because as soon as I receive some of the good, I’m going to want more. My friend gives me the good, beautiful things in life. How could I not want more? That doesn’t mean I don’t have the deepest of love and appreciation for what I’ve been given.  On the contrary - without their love, support, and belief in me I wouldn’t be growing and fighting as I am.  Their efforts mean the WORLD to me and I love them dearly for it.

I know I need to find a way to show that appreciation so my friends don’t feel my lack of satisfaction is some failure on their part.  They have not failed me, and I hope beyond hope not to fail them. Mostly, I don’t want to let them or myself down. I’m content with their love and friendship, but I’ll never be satisfied. I will always want more of them, their love, their efforts, their concern, their care, their dreams, their opinions, their advice, their comfort, their presence, and their laughter. They are good enough, more than good enough, they are excellence… and I still want more.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Appreciation Defined

Do we really appreciate things around us or the people in our lives?  Do we really even understand what being appreciative means?  We think it means to only be 'thankful' for something or someone, but that's really not where the definition ends.

According to Webster appreciate means:

     1. to be grateful or thankful for: They appreciated his thoughtfulness.
    2. to value or regard highly; place a high estimate on: to appreciate good wine.
    3. to be fully conscious of; be aware of; detect: to appreciate the dangers of a situation.
    4. to raise in value.


I want to focus on the verb, the action, for this word ... to increase in value.

How often do we increase in value those we appreciate?  To do this requires movement. It's not a one time thing but something in perpetual motion.  It would require an effort, a choice, a conscious decision.

We all sometimes see the beauty and greatness in someone we love, and in that moment feel an honest appreciation for them.  But, when the sun isn't shining, when dark clouds swirl, when we see their hurt, their pain, their low moments, their fragility, their faults, their humanity ...we face a different choice - to focus on the ugliness and allow depreciation, or love them through it and help them appreciate - increase in value.

A few dear friends have done this for me over these past several months, especially when I found no value in myself.  They continued to love me when I could not love myself.  They refused to let me push them away and loved me anyway.  Their love, their appreciation, their faith in me has helped me appreciate - to increase in value, and I am so grateful, so thankful, esteem and regard them so highly, am fully conscious of their love, am aware of their faithfulness, acknowledge their efforts, and they are giants to me. I love them dearly and hope I can do for them as they have done for me.

Be appreciative today and everyday.  Build up and not tear down.  Love one another.

Till next time,

~an Appreciative T.L. Gray

Love For Sale

Lately, I’ve watched this world continue to spin with and without my consent to do so, and left me often feeling insignificant, powerless, yet a part of it all just the same.  What does it mean?

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve watched consumerism lead the hordes into merriment and indulgences, as people attempted to buy each other’s affections. I remember my own marches, my own quests into that vain ritual. I understood it and didn’t view it as an evil thing.  I wasn’t jealous or angry at its practice going on around me, because if I had the means I would have more than likely been a happy participant of the madness.  But situations in life have forced me to the side lines and put me in a position to see a different aspect of things.

Over the years, I’ve worked so damned hard to fit in, but continued to find I’m a squared peg trying to fit in a round hole.  But, aren’t we all?  My whole life, everything I thought I believed, everything I worked hard to gain, everything I held dear, trusted or expected has been shaken.  I’ve been tested and found wanting.

On Christmas day, I watched the movie the Secret Life of Walter Mitty, and oh how it stirred those smoldering embers within me. I watched my journey on the screen in front of me – as I watched Walter transform from the state of existing to really living. 

The most poignant scene for me was the one with the helicopter.  As it was about to take off, Walter found himself too afraid to move; indecisive.  For me, his fear wasn’t about the pilot being drunk or the approaching storm, but of letting go of all the things that made him safe, all the responsibility that weighed him down and put him onto the spinning wheel, going and going and going but never getting anywhere.  He gave up who he was to be what was needed, and in the process lost his identity, his dreams.  Here he was at 43 in a strange place, staring danger in the face, yet too afraid until the woman of his dreams, his imagination, showed up in his imagination and started playing him a tune on the guitar– encouraging him to take the jump, to leap into his life despite the danger - to live or die trying.

I almost couldn’t hold back the tears, because this is where I’m at in my life.  The leap for me wasn’t leaving my marriage, moving into a strange place and finding myself alone.  It was discovering that it was okay to be that way, to not be needed, to not have to put my life on hold anymore to take care of someone else.  I’ve always took care of others - my handicapped parents, my brothers, my children, my husband, my church, my job, my community – but I failed to take care of me. 

I learned that all that care I gave to others never guaranteed love and care in return for me. Looking around me and seeing the absence proves to me that you can give, and give, and give… and not receive.  Much like how we rush out to buy those gifts to make those important to us happy, to show them how much we love them, but in reality we’re trying to ‘buy’ their love and appreciation for us, in exchange for them to love us in return.  We don’t think we attach those sentiments to our gifts, but we do, and we feel it when it’s not returned to us.  Love for sale.

This year, for the first time, because I expected nothing in either what I gave or received, I became truly appreciative of not only what I received, but for what I gave, because I gave with no expectations. How do I know this? Because I was very surprised when I received the love and appreciation I’ve fought so hard to get all these years, in return.  These are the hardest gift for me to receive from anyone – love and appreciation. 

I didn’t give fancy gifts, I had none to give. I didn’t receive any fancy gifts, but what little I got came from the heart and was given FOR me, not to me.  They were simple things I enjoyed and brought me pleasure and laughter.  And those gifts, though invisible to the eye, came wrapped with love and appreciation.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Finding Hidden Treasures

I remember a time when writing stirred such an excitement, often keeping me up all through the night as beautiful words swirled in my imagination and then shot out the tips of my fingertips onto the page.  It’s such an erotic moment, euphoric even.  I’m not saying I still don’t have those moments, but I can confess I’ve let the business of writing and marketing take too much dominance in my life that it’s squeezing most of those moments into the land of the neglected.

Not only has my own creativity suffered by being too business-minded, but so has my enjoyment of reading the beautifully written words of others.  As someone who devoured a minimum of fifty novels a year, so far this year I can count five.  My focus is so much on business, survival and meeting basic needs, I just can’t get lost in a good, long novel, not even ones I’ve waited months and even years to be released. 

I can’t express how much I appreciate my writer friends who dabble in flash fiction and short stories, because those have sustained me this year, or else I’d have been lost.  I’ve really come to love and appreciate flash fiction and short story writers like Christian Fennell, Jeff Suwak, Kelly Shackelford, Sarafina Gravagno, Frank Wall, B.R. Asher, Lucien Knight and a few others on Scribophile.  Their stories have fed, nurtured, inspired and sustained me as I work hard to clean up this train wreck of a life. Some of them don’t know how much their words have helped me. I crave them.  I need them.  I look forward to their next blog posts, short stories, and their next flash of humor, romance, satire or tragedy. 

My writer friends have also inspired and pushed me.  My best friend, Jenna Sands, has inspired me more than she’ll ever know.  Those members of my local writer’s group who refuse to let me quit or give up (Denise, Maggie, Kathy, Lorien and Dawn) will always have a place in my heart.

I used to be a novel snob, only reading full length (often epic–sized) novels and never giving short stories a furtive glance.  I’ve grown such a fondness for them now and am sure I will always keep them a beautiful part of my life as I once again focus on my next novel.  I’ve also grown an appreciation for the novella.  I really hope it comes back in fashion and more writers dare to publish them.

What hidden treasure have you stumbled upon lately?

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Http://www.tlgray.blogspot.com

http://www.authortlgray.wordpress.com

Beauty for Ashes

As I greet the morning, sipping on a warm cup of coffee, body relaxing after a great workout, I walk to the lake behind my house to enjoy a beautiful scene.  I think about those I love, those I miss, and catch a small vaporous thought of those who have faded from my life.  My focus narrows and I center on the new phase.  I think I’m learning to view and experience the world around me with a different set of eyes.  Well, that’s not true.  I don’t have a different set of eyes, only a different way of seeing.  Well, how I use those eyes are not new either, only that I’m starting to understand the difference between seeing and truly seeing.

All my life I’ve viewed the world in such a way, I’d sometimes wonder if maybe I’d been given a different set of eyes than those around me.  I find beauty in mundane things that most people don’t even give a second thought, and most often what is praised by the masses leaves me scratching my head.  I can see a tree in the middle of a forest and weep at its vibrancy in the face of insignificance.  My heart grows heavy at the sight of a rusty tricycle, long forgotten and neglected, shining in the sun, casting a brilliance that is almost blinding.  It brings back glimpses of happy childhood memories, those often clouded by darker moments. I see the vibrant colors of flowers, leaves, grass, water, sky and earth.  I notice the things out of place more often than the things spotlighted.  I can spend several minutes wrapped in the peace of nature watching an ant climb the limb of a tree, or listening to the wind rustle the leaves, or smelling the scent of a beautiful flower, or running my fingers over the dew-kissed grass, and feel so connected, yet so lost at the same time.

I view people differently too.  No matter the outside appearance, whether wrapped in attractive skin or gross deformity, it is the soul of a person that radiates their beauty or ugliness.  In my youth, appearance was important to me and I spent a lot of time focused on what I found visually appealing.  Though these beautiful people got to share part of me, claim to be my friend, claimed a few stolen kiss, and shared in many of my gifts and talents, there were always one or two friends who shared my heart – but only on very, very, very rare occasions.  I was an expert and hiding my heart.

Today, after a life of heartbreak and love, I find I’m attracted to aspects of beauty that can’t often be seen with the naked eye.  It’s sometimes found in a kind word, a moment of appreciation, a stirring of hope, reaching for a dream, or a spot of comfort, or a word of rebuke.  Sometimes it’s in a kiss, a pair of hazel eyes, a touch, a glance, or a simple word of affection. 

We can choose to see the beauty or the ugliness in everything… in our situations, in our dreams, in our daily lifestyles, in our jobs, in our friends and families, in our neighbors, in our government, in our gods … in everything.  I still see ugliness, but I will admit I’m beginning to see more and more beauty all the time.

What do you see?

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Love Is About Appreciation

Blue Bells on Mt. Rainier - 06/09/2013

I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve watched new romance blossom between friends, only to find a few months later both of them trying to change the very things about their partners they found attractive in the first place.  It’s maddening, really.    

Why do we do stupid things like that?  Girls, if you’re attracted to bad boys, why do you expect your bad boys to suddenly grow wings?  Or men, if you’re attracted to wild women, why are you surprised when your woman is not Suzy Homemaker?  For the sake of sanity … stop trying to change people from who they are to whom you want them to be. It’s a losing battle.

It isn’t just romantic couples who do this, but this strange anomaly (please note the hint of sarcasm) happens in every relationship of our lives - from our friends and families to co-workers and associates.  The things that usually excites us about each other, is often the very thing we seek to change upon entering into any serious form of relationship.

STOP!

I’m learning to identify what I like about someone and why?  But then I also think about how that trait would affect me in a more personal level.  I.e. – If I admire someone for being career-driven, focused, putting their passion above everything else, then I have to consider that more than likely any social or personal relationship I have with that person will have to come second to their driven passions.  It’s shame on us if we want to change anything about them.   

I’m not saying I couldn’t have a romance with such a person, but it would be wrong of me to want them to change their devotion and focus from their career to me.  What would be healthy is that I appreciate them for who they are, and build a relationship remembering and celebrating those traits into something that would work for us both. 

If he likes alone time… give him time alone.  Don’t gripe and complain that he’s not spending all his time with you.  Plan your time together, but leave room for him to be alone.   

If she likes to be silly with her friends, be the life of the parties …don’t expect her to stay home and cuddle all the time.  Let her be with her friends, or go watch and admire her spread her wings.

If you have a co-worker that performs miracles with a hands-off approach, don’t stand over their shoulders and micro-manage them.   Trust them to excel in the traits you admire in them, and that trust you show them will be returned in the quality of the work they perform.

If you admire the complete openness and blatant honesty of your friend, then don’t get angry at them when they express that same open honesty when it comes to things you don’t agree.  Appreciate them for their open honesty, and be prepared to sometimes hear what might hurt your flesh just a bit.

Do I always treat everyone in my life with this form of fairness?  No. But, I’m working on it. I don’t want to possess someone, I want to appreciate them.   I’m learning to see them for who they are, not for who I want them to be in my life.  I can only hope they return the favor.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Do What You Love

A good educational background and work history can provide many career opportunities, but while they all may be obtainable, not all are beneficial.  Being an indentured servant merely for a wage can be life-draining and turn you into a human zombie – where your heart beats, but there’s no life, no passion and no vision.  Where there is no vision, there is death.

I’ve been a slave, an indentured servant and an entrepreneur.  While I was able to provide sufficiently and financially for my family, my heart was always searching for something or somewhere else.  I learned to persevere and endure my situations.  I also learned a lot of other important life lessons, ones that developed my skills and sharpened my talents.  I greatly appreciate every experience, even the one’s I hated, because I still learned something. 

However, now that I’m pursuing what I believe I was born to do, to chase the dream that I dared to dream, and step out into the unknown with no guarantees and no promises, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.  I’m learning to do without a lot of those materialistic and physical things I used to think I had to possess in order to claim success.  It’s the intangible that matters most.

Don’t get me wrong.  I still need capital in order to function, to be able to chase my dream, to have the opportunities to experience many of the intangibles that so enrich my life, and I couldn’t do this without my family’s help and support, both emotionally and financially. Being broke and homeless would only force me back into slavery and indentured servitude, so I understand that it is my family’s love and support for me that affords me this opportunity.  It is upon their shoulders in which I stand. I hope I can return the favor for them as well.  It is that love they give me, combined with my passion for what I do, that propels me into the ether.  When I succeed, it is not I alone who prospers, but all of us together. 

My heart goes out to all those reaching for their dreams on their own.  This fight is hard enough with a great support system; I can’t imagine how difficult it is alone, or filled with adamant opposition.  For those considering to take the leap – I’d advise setting up a good foundation of support before jumping. However, don’t lose your courage, and be determined to jump, even if you have to do it by faith alone.  Do what you have to, but above all, do what you love.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray