Unconditional love….

"Imagine two people. One is happy, independent. Complete. Another person comes along who is also happy. Together the energy between them is amazing. They feed off each other and it is almost better than before.

Then out of nowhere, one begins to close off to the other. Maybe they are fearful, maybe they need to be in control, maybe they are wanting more... so they stop giving. The other person may respond by pulling away too. They may begin to mirror what the other is doing -  mirroring the fearful person and in that way they are bringing themselves down to that level… to protect themselves it seems. And then a drama begins with both people fighting for affection, both unwilling to give freely like before. One concludes to only give when the other gives and take away as much as the other takes away…

But in unconditional love...

The person who is less fearful first says "here -  have the energy you want from me. Take it"

Then they intern turn around and refill elsewhere from other things they have happening in their lives – other things that bring them that needed love and joy and completeness. They have no need to fight for that limited source of love. And this means they can give freely without expectation or need of receiving anything back. Sure, they too could start getting a bit fearful and can’t help but want to mirror their partner but this is unconditional love – it sets no conditions. It gives first and carries on doing so. It flourishes when mutual but shines more when tested. That’s where its strength is and so it grows…”

Find me at the bus stop!

Its been a good 5 months since the “knock” and looking back, I would like to think that I walk towards the exit sign a calmer, more mature psycho then I was going in.
It is said that: what doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger… I'm not sure if that is quite correct but I would like to rather put it as: what doesn’t kill us, changes us - and that is what I believe has happened to me.

Granted, my tolerance levels have dropped but, gone are the days when I walked around clueless and less afflicted by my surroundings. Through it all, I managed to come out of all this able to discuss it calmly and still manage to smile honestly. I would like to think that I have become more appreciative and that FINALLY – I realize where my value and valuables are at.

I love the look of confidence that I give to my minders. The look that says: I know you thought I wouldn’t but I did – and while I'm at it – don’t I look great? Lol

No. Honestly, umm I have gone through most of my existence with a band of minders who I know have waited in bated breath for the time when I will rise no more. I have known for some time that, it is not all that smile my way who do so simply as an honest feeling but more like a search to see if I will return a smile back… and well I do – honestly and for the first time it feels good.

Why it happens though is beyond me. Why is it that we thrive on the afflictions of others? Why is it that we wait for our enviers to fall before we feel like we have made it/ that we can make it?

I'm ready.
I'm ready to do honest and straight.
I'm ready to let in essential and remove all dirt – with pride too I may add.

Amongst all the  **** that came in with the “knock”, I have found that it brought a sense of freedom too. Freedom from the things I thought defined me. From the things that I held so tightly to, bounded by the idea that they make me – they didn’t! They don’t! 

A psycho I remain but one with more depth and understanding…  

Now at the brink of yet another different direction I take, I cant help but be filled with the hopes for a better rest of my life. There will be, yes, moments of pure panic (like only I can do them) and tones more tears but I'm sure ill be just fine.

Standing at the street corner waiting for the next ride into new experiences, I have my shoes polished, my lunch packed and a broad smile on my face…

“I will prove them wrong”, I muse.

Time has come for GoT to explore the other side of things and it starts her…

                                Taking the plunge from Miss Ree to a freaking fancy MRS REE!!!

Case of Money Maker sorted!

I'm a big girl. I shall not be bitter.

I shall not show a hint of bitterness cause my mama taught me better then that…

Oh hell – who am I fooling?

It totally grinds me see how certain things tend to fall into the laps of some people. Take our secretary for example. So she landed a huge Money Maker husband and just got a bra nd new Toyota J-something (first ever that I have seen). How the hell did she manage that? (pulling out my notebook to take notes).

There are those days when I honestly wonder if it even is worth it. This is usually on those days when I look back on how long I have been at this and notice how the most I have managed to get actually, has been low levels of joy. I also want a J-something and the feeling of coming to work yet knowing so well that I actually don’t have to. I wanna be a jumper lady too (the tiny ladies that JUMP off from their huge cars). I think it is the ideal that most of us girls have – to either land that huge Money Maker hubby or do it all for ourselves. (Looking at the statistics though of the number of ELIGIBLE Money Makers left kinda  cuts my options in a huge way).

And so (as the most reasonable option), I start on the personal missions to get there all on my own. There are many evenings that I can barely make it through the door before I collapse on my couch breathless from the day’s hustles. I believe I have pushed it good so far and while I may not be where I really want to be, I know I'm pretty comfortable. Yet see, this comfort range tends to bring with it a certain dependency that leaves you wanting more. Oh hell! I'm not even 25 yet and here I am with a DEPENDENCY.

 He will get me that J-something and he will get me that Top Billing house. Yet what more does he give?

I then decide to take a closer look at my new mentor (like how I have been taught) and wonder if really these are the kind of notes I should be taking.

It’s the mornings of swollen eyes and snap backs that have me thinking twice. We hear of door slams, and being kicked out of the house or the “I don’t care” attitude that is at times gets dragged along with to the office after yet another morning of hectic words being thrown to-and-fro that actually have me taking a step back. (did Money Maker buy her a house that came with a lunatic?)

This situation screams new facts that Mrs Money Maker fails to mention. See, along with the J-something, the mansion and the fully loaded walk in closets, comes great sacrifices to some of the essentials that ironically cant even be charged to that platinum card. It’s the constant shows we have played out infront of our eyes and the flashed fake smiles that have me seeing things in a new light and teaches a great lesson.

All the seemingly good stuff that we have flashed before our eyes comes at a certain price. If its not the selling of your soul to be their slave in terms of maintaining and acquiring more, its in the drained levels of joy that often lead to the swollen eyes. I think of the cross legged moment I had with Mr Man recently while sharing a McFlurry and remember how at that moment – I knew I was the happiest girl ever – would Money Maker be able to ensure such or would he be rushing of to yet another deal signing and ridiculous amounts of Champaign?

Don’t get me wrong – its great cushions to have (that sure would make the next planned girls road trip that much better) but I suppose the real question here comes down to this – AT WHAT COST?

I think I would like more the comforts of the layed back Sunday afternoon in the arms of Mr Man. I think I would prefer more a life time of calm sortings of our issues and not being made to feel like I'm only sticking around because of prenuptial Mrs Money Maker had to sign. And while ‘jumping-off’ would be a great past time, I would eventually have to go home and face my reality which unfortunately can not be replaced by a new one at the swipe of that card.

And so as I smile to myself at the ever so grown up conclusions that I have come up with – I pull out this weeks Watchtower Study article and eagerly look forward to the readings on “God’s Rest”

Girl-On-Top leaves these thoughts behind with a great lesson learned and an appreciation of the plans she has aligned for a future that will defiantly give that joy scale a wake up bashing and see it fly off far far away…

I believe I know I'm content!

A freaking change (lol)

I sat across a table populated by 3 of my best girl pals (the essentials) and I watched them laugh and shake their heads when I went into yet another fit about marriage.
“how the hell am I supposed to be ok with seeing this person EVERY SINGLE MOMENT of my evenings – which I have come to love as either quiet and calm while curled on my favourite spot on my couch OR being in track suits, duster in hand with Maroon 5’s Misery track blasting through my head phones while cleaning and dancing around in moves that my mirror and eyes have agreed are the best ever. And now I would just have this person in my space and face the whole time and I would have no option of either him or me getting up, kissing them goodnight and going home – to my place”
I think without realizing it, I built a really good comfortable relationship with being single and having my own space that an invasion to that almost seems unbearable. I love the idea of doing whatever whenever and not having to clear it with the other person first. Oh the horror of having to share the bed I have loved rolling in all night long and the thought of HAVING to make supper even if I don’t feel like supper. Oh man the pains of being a women confused and conformed by a modern society.
The girls all took turns trying to convince me that this picture I was painting should not be as bleak as I have made it.
“It’s not that bad!” my have-been-there-done-it-before friend speaks out. “When you love someone enough to marry them, you will love spending most of your space with them. If your relationship is healthy, you should never really get tired of being around them...”
“what...”, I answered while the look of horror gets worse followed by confusion and lack of understanding.
“well, you can take moments to do your own thing by yourself every once in a while,” another friend adds, “but it won’t be as bad as what you are saying”
I take a a HUGE gulp of the drink I was having and start to wonder if this is a sign of love-lacking on my part since clearly this “little technicality” seems to be too huge for ME to ignore.
Two days later and I still ponder on that conversation. Am I the only one who has a sort of problem with this? As much as I love my guy and I do get that the logical goal being chased here is marriage, I can’t help but worry a bit about the major changes that would have to take place with those 3 words (“yes I do”). I worry about the fact that I SHOULD be looking forward to all of this and it worries me a whole lot more when I think of the disapproving looks I get when I do mention these fears to some people.
Oh the morning rushes after being subjected to being seen at my grumpiest and with my pillow creased cheeks and blind feeling around while I try making it to the bathroom while making sure to open my eyes not much more then what is truly needed to get me there.
“its not that I don’t like my guy or anything”, I try to defend, “I just am not so thrilled at the prospect of the space invasion I imagine happening at that time”.
Then, while still kinda lost in thought about this dilemma of mine, I look up at him while he makes me a cup of coffee. He looks back at me, smiles and warms up the milk just for me. When all that was done, he gets closer, lets me lie on his chest and runs his hand across my back and kisses my forehead.

“so this is what you are freaking out about?”, the little voice in my head says and I smile realising the point and knowing that at that moment, there is nowhere else I would rather be then right here with him, in my space _ FOREVER!

Realizations done and appriciation grows!

There would always be a certain bad boy flair about him that made me sit up and stay interested. He would be the type to push boundaries and although he wasn’t at a level to be written off as bad-a$$ yet, he would have that slightly rude thing about him and could tell it off while remaining calm.

“its exciting” I would shout at my brain when it protested.

“live a little” I would plead with it and while it carried on to fight and resist this as much as it could, my heart and I were doing love dances all over and would so many times be left gasping for what would come next to take us on this high we had become addicted to.

This would be the one major characteristic about the guys I would date. “anything else would be a bore” I would defend.

“besides, he is not all bad...” I would continue while hiding the other incident where this particular one through risk out the window when he decided to kiss me while driving at speeds over 100 km/h one evening.

Yep, this is the type that I would be attracted to. It was the rush of not being ruled by rules that I loved most and the tendency to question them was a direction I would be heading in. “this is my true calling...” I through at my mind during another heated attempt to get me to see reason!

Until it all changed one day when finally after the hundredth time, I failed to find the strength to stand up after this type had thrown me to the floor AGAIN and didn’t even care to stop and see if I was ok.

“its exciting remember?” my mind mocked while sending out reinforcements to mop up the mess that this type had left.

For the longest time, I failed to understand this. How is it that after all that I had given this type, it never stopped to see if I was ok? Why was it that I finally hit rock bottom with no ability to dust myself off and get back on to this rollercoaster I had come to love and feed off?  I had it all planned out and yet at that very moment, I sat in a pile on the floor unable to piece it all together as to where it went wrong.

Out of pity, I assume, my brain came to sit and keep me company while I sat, lost in why’s maybe’s and other themes to my pity parties.

“allow me to explain this”, my brain started in a grown up serious tone, “there comes a time in a person’s life, when the real things in life become recognised. To some, it comes quickly and simply, yet for others, such as yourself, lessons need to be learned and realizations have to be made...”

The conversation carried on for days, only stopping to refuel. My mind seemed mature and grown. It made points that made things make sense. It allowed for questions and comforted me at times when the realizations came hard and fast yet it never judged me for the roads taken or choices made.

Many many many days later, this is the truth that my mind (through the strongest type of divine intervention, I believe) has helped me realize:

In the quest to find and define ourselves, we fall prey to what SEEMS like the type that we should become. We etch it deep in our minds and even go as far as fighting off any kind of different reasons that may threaten this. Yet, after all has been said and done, its the same things that we all strive for. We all want to be loved and taken care of. We all want security and comfort when things get bad. As exciting as it may seem to live on the edge sometimes, that it NOT the type of thing that builds futures and brings off well meaning and stable people. it keeps things good yes, great even, but if its a type that does not give in return  or is still on a quest to fulfil its own needs at whatever the cost, then maybe its not the TYPE I should be hanging out with. Having gone through this does not make me a failure. No! It instead makes me a better version of myself – an appreciative kind. It makes me real because now, I’m not caught up in some lost sense of myself but rather in a sense that has so much more to give! And when one stumbles upon ummmm not a TYPE but rather an INDIVIDUAL who sees and appreciates this – one should let go of pasts and longings, put on their big, mature and comfortable girl panties and allow for things that may come, to come. Now that to me sounds exciting!

After endless grinnings and all good and fuzzy feelings inside, I pick up my phone and type it in...

“you loving me feels amazing and yes.... I NEED you...”

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*smile*

Love is like a motorcycle ride

This is my true and honest confession: I am a self proclaimed ROMANTIC junkie who has gone as far as deciding how she would like the order of things to go so as to merit as ALLOWABLE and ACCEPTED.

And then the problem sets in:

We live in the year 2011 where regardless of how well thought out things may be, they never really do end up happening like that and if they do – exactly point for point as set out – then you may find yourself with even bigger problems.

I am a passionate mental doodler and in my mind, things should happen in this manner:

·         We would meet

·         I would eventually agree to drinks/lunch/supper

·         I would conclude that he is ok and agree to a second date

·         4 successful dates later and we would do the exclusive thing

·         2-3 successful years later and we would do the marriage thing

{Tune in a great sound track and all is well with the world}

And here I am…. Struggling to keep up with my own mental notes.

Feels a lot like riding a motorcycle for the first time (not that I have but I imagine it would be something like this): As great as the ride is going, I am stuck on making sure that my helmet is on securely and ensuring that my knee pads don’t slip of.  I have a check list that I'm trying to tick off as we pass mile stone after mile stone. On top of all of that, is the worry of where the bike is headed. The ironical part of it all is – regardless of all my inhibitions… this bike moves and it doesn’t do easy and slow. It roars to life and promises a thrill rush – helmet or not.

If there are some things that I'm learning during the bike ride, one of them would be: that the best bike rides have no planned routes. They don’t do list-tick-offs or being subjected to controlled doses. This is LOVE and it does not do rules. It over whelms and excites. It takes over you like a high tide wave and evokes a rush of weird, amazing, great and breath taking emotions all at once. Coupled with attraction it promises an even wilder experience that does not wait for you to give permission – it takes over and while it can leave you unravelled, it does promise you a thrill rush – list or not.

So being long overdue at this stage: here is a new mental doodle in tune with the times:

·         We would meet

·         Hang on tight and let whatever completely take over…

So while I sit safely behind the driver of this bike, I let my helmet fall off and let the air through my hair. The thought at that very moment (besides how great it feels to be close to him) is: I know I will love where this bike is going to stop