friendship.

If you talked to your friends the way I hear you talk to yourself, you wouldn't have many people to pal around with.

You deserve to love yourself.

Start now.

training.

"I wish...I...well, it's not fair. Just never goes my way...then you... make me feel. Ugh. It'll never happen. Why don't you just...?"

What? Why don't I just what? Stop encouraging you? Stop pushing?
Fine, I'll give it a rest. But remember this: life is a footrace to get to your dreams, and by the time you stop whining others will have a head start.

So, step up. Stop wallowing in the attempts of moments past. Strap on your sneakers, exchange complaining for training, and look towards the finish line.

Put one foot in front of the other. You'll get there. I promise.

Ready...set...?

Go.

stoplight.

Speeding through the streets, rushing to get somewhere...anywhere.
Green.
Yellow.
Red.

Damn you, red. Always there, at the worst possible time. Or is it?

Maybe it's just the universe telling you to breathe. Take a look around. You're so hell bent on driving to this place we call the future, that you don't even realize-you first need to be content in the present.
Who knows, I might be standing in the crosswalk...asking for a ride. Together, we can find a direct way. To happy.

So, stop. Breathe. This moment is what you need.

It's not a stoplight. It's a pause for peace.

push.

Ready to leap.
I approach, with confident steps...only to stop at the edge of the airplane door. My parachute firmly in tact, safety precautions in place. I pause, muscles ready to jump, and...
Nothing.
Breath leaves me, tears form. "I can't do it!" I cry.
I whip around hysterically to yell at the lot of you, "What if it doesn't open? My chute? Then it's over...I'll die!"
You step forward one by one, to hold my hands, brush my cheek, a force field against fear.
Whispering, "Is dying really the worst alternative? Or not living?" I open my mouth to answer, when suddenly I feel my balance shift.
I'm flying through the air.
You pushed me.
You PUSHED me when I told you not to.
How could you?
How...could...?
Wow.

I love you.

seeds

The seeds of change are scattering.
New flowers popping up everywhere.
Beautiful.

This is your doing, you know.

By nurturing the blooms already in your life, it prompted buds to grow bigger batches of pollen to be harvested, filling the hummingbirds with joy. The little guys flutter their wings, talking to each other. Telling their garden pals what a wonderful caretaker you are.

Pretty soon, blossoms, trees, and bushes are popping up all on their own. Surprising you with colors nobody knew existed. So vivid.

This, is love. It acts as a magnet for good things. The more you tend to your garden the more it gives back to you.

I'm honored to be part of your creation. A friend flower.

order.

The order is wrong. Again. Food steaming, along with your temper. Disgusted, you roll your eyes.

What. Are. You. Doing?

Is it worth it to allow something like this to ruin your evening? Stop acting as if the establishment has a personal agenda against you. Do you think they want to be bombarded with complaints and disdain?

Events don't determine happiness. It's how we react, that matters.

In the end, your food order isn't the problem. It's the order, or lack of...within. Accept. Now, see the bad feelings wash away.

Who knows, maybe the apologetic waitress used to be an Ad Exec, and lost her job. Or, the cook is preoccupied with his sick father's condition.

The next time you are quick to point the finger ask, "Am I reacting, or overreacting?" Who knows, a sympathetic smile could deliver a free dessert... of happiness, with a cherry on top.

mud

Those flowers...in the distance, they will make you happy, eh? Now, explain this to me. If your happiness is over there, waiting-why in the world are you standing here, instead?

Yes, I see the hill. It's a tough trek. Mud in the way, making progress slow.

But friend, in the end, which option is really the hardest?

1. Making the tiresome journey, but finally smelling those bright blooms, the ones calling you all these years. Filling your heart with accomplishment, love, and strength.

Or,

2. Living your entire life wondering what those vibrant colors feel like in your fingers, wishing you could drink in their scent of warmth and merriment. Always feeling an emptiness of the unknown.

The excuses you make are only preventing the true joy you deserve. Who cares if in the end, flowers fade? Savor the feelings and keep them forever, use them to guide you towards new gardens, paths, and prairies full of promise.

Flowers fueling your fire.

Who cares about a little mud?

bullets.

You poke and prod and attempt to stamp your brand on everyone who stands in your way.

They yell in pain and retaliate against the burning phrase and ideals you force upon them. I hear your screams at them, "I'm right here. This is the right path, this is my path so it must be right!" Like a child. Tantrum.

But is it the "right" road, just because you say so? Or does the fear of walking alone mean denying others their freedom to choose which way to step? I know it hurts to see them inflict close-minded pain unto others. But, by hurting them...it alienates them to change.

Stop firing bullets of hatred at those you say are causing the trouble. They can't hear you with the assault overwhelming their senses.

Be calm. A reflecting pool of love for them to learn from. By example.

After all, we'll all end up in the same field of forever...some will just take longer to open their hearts to acceptance.

flight.

You. A fountain of smiles and pool of energy. Constantly showing eyes of compassion and the embrace of strength to others. Reassuring them, the future will happen...no use forcing life into fast-forward.

Putting your hands on my shoulders you speak in an even tone, "It will happen. I have no doubts. You will do this."

Your words work magic and lift me up. By the time we are finished, I feel my feet leaving the ground. High on the taste of your friendship.

Wait, why are you still on solid ground? Come up here with me. You did this. You helped me see my true self.

I notice your defeated smile. Empty eyes. How did I miss it? I've allowed the kind words to blind me to the most important thing. You.

After all, you weren't really talking to me...were you? You were talking yourself into something great. But, lacked the faith to strap on those wings. Please, look in the mirror...utter that magic spell again. I only wish you treated yourself as well as you treat your friend.

begging.

It's come to this.
I'm begging.

Please don't keep your gift inside any longer. Your insecurity is selfish. Depriving others of the inspiration they need. Somewhere out there, a person is waiting for you to spark a blaze within them.

Your message of love throwing the unconscious thinkers off balance, but only at first. Dizzy, spinning, nearly out of control. Blindsided by burning love. Don't worry, the warm feeling will compensate for brief confusion. Wrapping them in a blanket of comfort and passion.

Then, a whisper...

"Thank you."

Because your action gives them hope. To try. To share. To live.