Zen


Teachers are allotted only a window of time with their students.  Once the student has exhausted this learning period; the teacher’s responsibility ends and the student must go on.  The student must accept this ending and may only bow in respect to the teacher, for the opportunity to learn has now passed.  It is now the student’s time; not to mourn the absence of the teacher, but to continue the quest for knowledge.

 

 

Only with a closed mouth and open mind will a student see the multitude of offer for infinite challenge and opportunity on the road to enlightenment.  Any valid word from a student to a teacher shall be but a question posed when the time is offered for such.  Fussing over disagreement or materialism will only slow the journey, and our time is short.

 

 

The most important rule is recognition that you are but a student.  Worry not.  Close your mouth.  Open your mind.  Work diligently.  Be peaceful.  For all the while in being a disciplined student, you’ve become a teacher.

 

 

~padinkydink



Enlighten Me


Why do I even have this blog?  I will never be a serious writer because I don’t take anything as seriously as I should.  I always seem to let these things build up inside me for eons before I decide to write.  I’ve been through a lot of changes and had many recent epiphanies.  I would like to share all of them with you but since I have the attention span of a gnat on crack I will just type and see what comes out.

 

For one thing, my stepmother passed away.  Actually who decided to say ‘passed away?’  I guess someone was trying to come up with a nicer way of saying “My stepmom is dead.  The evil disease called cancer came into our lives and stole her away from us, and she was only 58.”  I guess ‘passed away’ is a little less jarring than that, but that’s what I feel like saying to people.  I go back and forth between crippling sadness and anger about the whole thing.  Not just her death, I mean cancer.  Not just cancer but life being unfair and working our asses off to never manage to rise above the class we were born into.  Not just that but everything else in this cruel world we share with the evil that is cancer, among the many other faces of evil and cruelty.  I can’t be the only one who is just walking around pissed off.  Am I?  I have never met the goals I set for myself.  I will never be who I was supposed to be.  I am not altogether sure I have whatever it takes to be successful.  I take everything too literally and I can’t seem to communicate effectively.  I seemingly see things in a much different way than everyone else.  I spend each and every waking moment of my life in complete awareness of this.  I think that the people who know me…also know the key to my success but are either too afraid to hurt my feelings, or they have the tact to just let it be, or maybe they know me well enough to know better than to open ANY can of worms with me because I. will. lose. my shit.  I don’t want to seem ungrateful for the many wonderful things I have to be thankful for, but that’s not what this is about.  Let’s stick to the subject for once.  Anger.  I am filled with rage and fueled by hate.  I have good days and bad, but for the most part I have reached a phase in my life where I just can’t sit still, everything pisses me off.

 

Some examples?  These are in no particular order, but they will be listed in bullet-points because OCD.

  • Every single driver on the road who isn’t me.  People who seemingly get into their vehicles and are in NO hurry to get ANYWHERE.  I am always behind these people when I am in a hurry, and suffice it to say that if I am in my vehicle, I am already late for something and I need my own designated lane so I can pass up the texters, slow-movers, teenage asshats, old people who should have to retake the driving test after retirement, etc.

 

  • Anyone who assumes that you need a college degree to be relevant.  I have felt more shame in the fact that I am considered to be uneducated than should ever be felt.  Like seriously, I even know I need to let it go already.  I have worked in the accounting field for 17 years.  You don’t need a college degree to do what I do for a living.  What will it get you?  Respect and more money.  Why can’t I just have respect for being really good at what I do?  Why can’t my performance speak for itself?  I have earned respect from colleagues and peers, but I don’t always get it.  Yes, I am a little rough around the edges, yes I use profanity colorful/descriptive words in every fucking sentence…so what???  Don’t most of you wish you could step outside of that cookie-cutter world you live in and be as ballsy as me?  Just a little?  I am who I am.  I’m like 40 now, so the likelihood of my vernacular ‘changing color’ at this stage in the game is exactly NIL.

 

  • Religion.  Ah crap, I know better but I don’t care.  People who gossip and spread lies under the guise of Christianity make me puke.  I am an atheist.  It took me forever to get the guts to say that out loud and it will probably be bothersome for some of my family members to read it, but I make no apologies.  My daughter said the other day, “You’re just as atheist as I am, I just believe in one less god than you do.”  Brilliant.  She probably saw it on Tumblr but it was still so freaking true.  My son said “Religion is to Athiesm as Sex is to Abstinence.”  He heard that little gem from Bill Maher.  Also true, a common misconception among Christians is that atheists worship the devil or that we have no morals.  Nothing could be more false.  I raise my children with morals, I tell them not to lie, steal, rape, pillage, etc.  They know right from wrong and they learn it at home.  We are civilized human beings who have made the conscious choice to NOT believe in something because it just didn’t make sense.  What kind of parent would I be to tell my kids, ‘Yeah I know it doesn’t make any sense, but your job isn’t to question it, just to believe it.’??  So go ahead and get all judgy and shun me; I’d like to say I don’t care, but I do.  It actually hurts that instead of trying to hear my side of it, people choose to keep those blinders on and assume I am lost.  I am not on the same path you are on, it doesn’t make me lost.  We are going in different directions, and each of us have a separate purpose.  I could quite literally go on for days about this one, but I will leave it for now.

 

  • People who tell me what I need to do.  I have full understanding of what is expected of me in this life, both at work and home.  I am not a fan of bossy people.  Sometimes people don’t even know they are bossy.  Perfect example, writing.  Yes, I know I should ‘carve out’ time to write more.  I have come to the realization that the ship I should have boarded (the one that takes me to my dreams of being paid to write funny stuff) has sailed.  I am actually cool with it.  My life and circumstances aren’t conducive to a writing career, unless someone wants to raise my kids and pay my bills until the writing paychecks come in.  I am very critical of my writing and I don’t like to share it.  Two reasons, the aforementioned criticism as well as piracy.  You can’t be the funny person in the group and not have people shoplift your schtick, trust me.  It’s worse when you write.  My thoughts are mine, I don’t need anyone misquoting me or taking credit for my words, spoken or written.

 

  • People who are self-involved and over-share.  I get it, everyone is self-involved to a degree.  I am guilty of turning the conversation back to relevant similarities to my life.  I try to catch myself doing that and stop it.  It is just how I communicate though, I try to relate to your story by taking myself to the place you are in, and I do this by sharing a story where I was in a similar place.  It even annoys me that I do it.  I’m not talking about that as much as people who take a new selfie each day and post it on social media, or tell everyone each and every facet of their life.  I have like 400 ‘friends’ on facebook.  I don’t tell each and every one of those people about every meal I eat or every time I take a shit, or every time I go to the doctor, or when my aunt is sick, or any other attempt to garner attention.  You should have a close circle of friends, and those are the people you share (privately) your struggles with. Not every single thing about your life is suitable or interesting enough for mass consumption.

 

  • Lists.  This one’s getting long so I’m done with it.

 

  • Wait, one more, last one.  Promise.  Kanye.  That’s it.  I hate that dude.  What an assclown.  Am I right??

 

I think the point of life is to learn as much as you can and be aware of the impact you make.  Plain and simple.  I feel like we should use our precious resource of time as exactly that; a precious resource.  I worry that the more I learn, the more I realize how little I know.  I worry that the closer I become to ‘enlightened'; the closer I am to dying.  The only thing I really care about is making sure my kids have a great life.  I want to be a good mom and a good wife.  I want them to know that they are loved so much and that literally every single thing I endure is so that they can thrive.  Moms are wired differently than dads.  I just thought of this.  The other morning I was watching my husband as he put our 6-year-old daughter’s hair in a ponytail.  I lovingly giggled, it brought a tear to my eye as I was thinking of how grateful I am that he is a wonderful dad and husband.  So I told him just that.  Then he replied with “I try to be.”  Then I almost immediately ruined the whole scene because I thought out loud ‘Nobody EVER tells me I am a good mom.’  I put her hair in a ponytail 90% of the time, I am responsible for 90% of her baths and I do 100% of her fingernail/toenail grooming.  But that’s expected of me.  How is it that the society we live in pours accolades onto dads who do some of what moms do every single day??  He’s a good dad, don’t get me wrong, but why am I praising him up one side and down the other for doing something I do each day that goes completely unnoticed?  See??  Anger.  All the time about every little thing.

 

On that note, thanks for reading and take care of yourself and each other.

I really do want world peace.

Stick

 



anger. it’s only one letter away from DANGER.


I never use this blog anymore.  I spend a lot of time angry at myself as a result of that.  I actually spend a lot of my time just plain angry.  I’ve said it a million times before, people like the funny girl when she is witty and funny, notsomuch when she is pissed off or talking about real shit.  Here it goes anyway.

 

I am pissed off about so many things I might not be able to fit it all in one blog.  I guess I can do an ‘angry’ series.  Whatever.

 

Where do I start?  How about my anger toward this world I am trying to raise my children in.  Yesterday I picked my kindergartner up from school and she told me about the drill they had earlier that day.  It wasn’t a fire drill or a tornado drill.  It was an intruder drill.  What is an intruder drill you ask?  It’s where all the kids ‘pretend’ there is a bad guy in their school (the place where they are supposed to feel safe) and he wants to hurt them, so all they have to do is hide and be very quiet so he doesn’t know where they are.  They were told to sit very still and huddle together in the corner while a man walked through the building and beat on every classroom door and tried to get in.  As she was telling me about this drill, I was fighting back two things:  1. Tears  2. Rage.  I elaborated on what they had already told her by telling her she should try to find a really small place where she could tuck herself away and not be seen.  I also told her that if a bad guy came to her school, she might hear other sounds besides him knocking on the door.  I told her it might sound like fireworks like the 4th of July and there might be more than one bad guy, and no matter what kind of scary sounds she hears, she can’t cry or make any sounds.  She didn’t bat an eye when I said these things to her.  Is she that desensitized at the tender age of 5 1/2?  Apparently.  Did I do that to her?  Maybe a little.  I think it could also be the fact that every time we turn on the news in the morning there’s more shootings or robberies or some kind of standoff.  My big kids have an ‘intruder’ strategy as well.  It’s gruesome, but they will just lie in another kid’s blood and play dead.  I can’t believe I just typed that, but it’s the truth.  I am angry that I have to have these types of conversations with my kids.  I do not understand evil, which I guess is a good thing, because ‘it takes one to know one.’

 

I remember April 20, 1999 like it was yesterday.  I was sitting at home, 9 months pregnant with my first child when the horrific massacre took place at Columbine High School.  It was then that I first started to wonder if maybe it was a selfish idea for me to bring children into this world.  So to make myself look like a fool for having just made that statement…my oldest daughter was born in February 2001; when she was seven months old, on September 11, 2001; our country endured the most deadly attack in history.  Violence begets violence, so it has really all just gone on and on since then.  This past month the world watched while news reporters covered the story of an 18-year old kid who was shot in Ferguson, MO.  That’s 30 miles from our home.  As if that wasn’t enough, the only story on EVERY SINGLE CHANNEL was how an angry mob would wait like cockroaches to come out at night and steal and ruin everything in that city.  It was race-driven too, so there was an irrational (but kind of legit) fear that they would start to spread out and attack in unsuspecting predominantly white neighborhoods.  Robbing stores, stealing rims and hair weaves, throwing Molotov cocktails at police, shooting guns and behaving like wild animals.  Why?  All supposedly a part of ‘peaceful protest’ in the name of the man who was gunned down.  What a crock of shit.

 

The United States feels like a world where people can’t let go of anguish or suffering.  People of every ethnicity feel entitled to things because they are bred to feel that way.  Does your back hurt?  You are entitled to disability pay from our government.  Did you have too many babies?  You need free money for that.  Were your ancestors oppressed?  Then line up!  We have money for that!  What is this place?  When did everyone feel like they could just tell you they are entitled to something?  What happened to people just doing nice things because it’s the right thing to do?  Karma is real, everyone.  I don’t care what religion you are or aren’t.  Basically every single philosophy tells you the same story.  It’s not a theory, it’s truth.  You get out of this life what you put into it.  Which is why I am not rich and famous.  I am lazy.  I get distracted easily.  Lately I find myself sitting on the couch every night staring at my phone on some social media website like some kind of fucking zombie while my kids do the same thing.  I am part of the problem.  Can I get a check every month for that?  Ha!

 

I guess there really isn’t a point to this.  I just have to let off a little steam once in a while so that I can sleep at night.  I have problems, but someone else has bigger problems.  I want to be a person who can not only endure my own drama, but also be helpful to friends when they need me.  Lately though, I’m not in the mood.  The LAST thing I need on a very long list of shit is to get a phone call from someone who needs to ‘cry it out’ or have me cheer them up.  I walk around pissed like 97% of the time.  There are other factors at play, but at the risk of losing the livelihood that keeps those phones in my kids’ hands I will refrain.  I literally just typed it all out and then deleted every word.

 

Sorry I didn’t make you laugh, so I will share something with you that will LITERALLY get me through the day tomorrow.

 

Today as we were driving along, my 5-year-old saw a limousine, probably the first one she has seen in ‘real life’ and she said, “Wow!  Is that one of those things that takes the beautiful people to the shows?”

“Yes, it is.”

 

I love that kid.

 

I feel the inclination to apologize for my rant, but I am not sorry.  You have a choice when you read, thank you for choosing Padinkydink.

 

Peace.



Coolest Mom Ever


If you know me on a personal level, you know I am a bit goofy and somewhat immature for my age.  Here’s the thing; I am pretty sure I was born this way.  Lady Gaga is cool with it.  I thought I was cool with it…but turns out my teenage kids might not be cool with it.  I act a fool all the time, being silly in the car, singing and dancing along with songs, making up lyrics to popular songs, you know, stuff I have done for my entire life.  Turns out my kids are cool with this unless they have friends around, and in that scenario; I am only supposed to be their chauffeur.  You know, the lamesauce dude who wears their standard-issue black suit and lame hat and is paid to (well I guess that dude gets paid, but I don’t) drive the ingrates around and purchase food and beverage for them in silence.

 

In T-2 hours from now, much to the chagrin of my 13-year-old daughter, I will be chaperoning her field trip to the Science Center.  I will be held responsible for my kid plus 3 more kids.  I am certain I will speak aloud during this excursion and definitely mortify my daughter beyond social recognition.  I am contemplating wearing some 90’s getup, like maybe a pair of overalls with one side unfastened, a sideways neon hat that says ‘Word to Yo Momma’ and some neon Chuck T’s.  Of course I will also pack her a nutritious lunch of PB&J (I almost spelled out peanut butter and jelly, but it’s cooler if I abbreviate I think) and some whole milk with a CRAAAAZY STRAAAW!!!  What What!!!  But since I am sooo cool I will also bring along a mix tape of some def, funky fresh tunes featuring the vocal stylings of Ratt, Twisted Sister, and probably the ever-so-popular Will Mother Fkn Smith!!!  Of course I will be blasting all of this from my heavy ass (on the shoulder) boom box!!!  Yeah Yeah.  I think I might also paint my eyelids to look like they are actual eyeballs so that in case the (lame) Science Center (lame) exhibits are LAMESAUCE, I can fall asleep and the teacher’s won’t notice!!  Ha Ha!!  Yeah!!  And I will make sure to have all 4 of the girls I’m charged with (Madi and her 3 close friends) high (and LOW) five me ALL DAY LONG!  Today is going to be the BEST. FIELD. TRIP. EVER!!!!!

 

Seriously though I will probably wear jeans and something beige so that Madi won’t even notice me.  That way she won’t be so mortified that I am there.  When do they turn into such dicks?  My kids used to find my chicanery and tomfoolery to be quite entertaining and fun, but then these crazy kids turned into complete asshats and now all of a sudden I am such an embarrassment, but I am NOT too embarrassing to entertain every whim they might have or to drive them to the mall or Starbucks or buy them junk food and a shit ton of expensive clothes and shoes.  In the moments when we are headed to the cash register I am still the best mom ever.  I guess this is one of those Darius Rucker song things…you know, ‘It Won’t be Like This for Long’…maybe?

 

Well, seems like it’s about time for me to go shower up and get my ecru personality and outfit together for the field trip today.  Have a bland day everyone!

Peace out Homies,

Word up.



Bright Ideas


Have you ever felt as though (metaphorically speaking of course) life is like a huge storm?  I feel like I am being tossed about, occasionally being hit by debris in a big swirling mess of a life-tornado.  I feel like the only time I ever bother to sit down and write is when I find a branch on the tree of knowledge…and I cling to it with everything I can muster, hoping the wind will die long enough for me to stop my white-knuckling grip and let a little bit of this out.  When I catch my breath for a moment, I share it here.  Lately I have had some ‘mini-epiphanies’ if you will.  I have had a lot of realizations and in the midst of my ‘life-storm’ have begun to find my place, get my bearings and sort some of my thoughts.

 

I think of my life thus far as a series of coincidences and mishaps that have led me to the place where I belong.  I live in a really happy place.  I have a wonderful husband and three healthy kids.  Our house isn’t the smallest or biggest, we aren’t the richest or the poorest, and we try our best not to measure our success based off comparison to others.  We are almost impervious to the outside universe in this little shelter of love we’ve created here.  I have been out and about and social more lately than I have been in a very long time.  In these gatherings I have attended I have learned some things about myself.  For one, I realize that my friendship is actually valuable to my group.  That is not what I tell myself when I am here in the bubble I have created.  It brings me an overwhelming sense of worth and makes me feel needed and loved.  I have gained some ground and strengthened some relationships.  I have also (in some of my little light-bulb moments) distanced myself in other relationships and all the while I have felt like I have nurtured my spirit and the spirit of those around me.  That, my friends is called love.  Love:  The willingness to give or withhold in order to nurture ones’ own or another’s spiritual growth.  It’s very ironic that I learned that definition from my ex-husband.  He has taught me more about human nature than I ever cared to learn.

 

I think my place in this world is one of example in unconditional love.  I can’t change who I am at the core.  None of us can.  In trying to enlighten my children about the nature of humans, I needed to tell them  that people never really change.  In my attempt to explain human nature, I compared people to the planet earth.  The earth we see is ever-changing.  The seasons will aid in killing and reviving the nature around us.  Our pollution or care will nurture or kill parts of her; but at the center of the earth there’s a core that won’t ever really be much different.  I told them people are similar to the earth in this way.  They are who they are to the very core.  Sure, their behavior might change, they might surround themselves with different people or situations, but they will always go back to who they are.  Think about this.  It works in nearly every scenario.  If a person strays away into a different lifestyle or starts to go down a dark path, you can rest assured, they won’t be gone for long because it isn’t who they are at their core.  The same goes for a person who is truly rotten (to the core, get it?) because they can fool you for a while, but will eventually return to who you already know them to be.  This little gem of an epiphany helped me show my kids how to be aware of people around them and it also gave them a way to be watchful and remember advice from their dear old mom.  Now, think of a person in your life who has perhaps been deceitful, then nice, then ultimately deceitful again.  Earth.  You’re welcome.

 

My advice has been often unsolicited and for that I am mostly sorry, I don’t want to be the asshole who inserts my opinion into your life when you didn’t ask me.  I feel the inherent need to help when I can see where things are heading.  If I am talking with you or have befriended you, there is an unconditional love between us that forms instantly.  I can’t help it.  It’s a bit intense.  I feel the need to build you up and make you see the good that there is in you and all that is around us.  Am I a hippy?  Maybe a little.  I can tell you that I am definitely weird.  I can tell you that as humans in this day and age, people don’t know how to take me.  I get odd looks, I know people whisper.  I choose to tell myself that people know that my heart is true and my intentions are pure.  My family and friends know that I have no ill will and that my intent always comes from a place of love.  Sure I have days when I want to cut a bitch.  I mean, who doesn’t??  But I always come back to this place where I want to be helpful.  I want to give everything I have; all things material or spiritual or anything I can do to help.  As it turns out, my advice can be useful sometimes.

 

My lessons in this life have all come from my experience or the willingness to observe and absorb.  I know that the hardest job in the world is being a parent.  I know that if we are doing it right, we are always thinking ‘Did I do that right?’  Some people are fortunate enough to have had wonderful examples in their parents.  Others have only the mistakes of their parents to start from.  It’s a tricky game.  As I was just telling a friend today, I dance along this very thin line with parenting.  On one side of the line, you can be sensible and talk with your kids about life lessons and tell them just enough to keep their attention and maybe have them learn from you; and right on the other side of this practically invisible line…there is a place where you say too much and scare the shit out of them.  The main thing is to be ever-present and hope that at the end of the day, they know that you love them and that you are a human being; not just a booze-guzzling cursing maniac who occasionally gets them pizza.  Just me?  Oh.

 

All kidding aside; I feel like if we all have to label ourselves with something I would call myself a nurturer and giver of love…the comic relief in most situations…the one with a witty comment at the ready…the one who doesn’t have a glamorous occupation but has a place in this world nonetheless…just like the other people who are droning about cubicle farms.  None of us is better than the other.  We all have two things in common.  One – we all suffer.  Each of us has something(s) that we struggle with.  Two – we all could use a little less hate and a lot more love.  We all want to feel like we matter and we all need to be built up.  Wait, that was more than two things.  We are all just trying to get through this game and come out a winner.  We are all want things to be better than they are.  I hope this doesn’t sound like I am a know-it-all.  I am quite the opposite.  It just so happens that when an idea hits me I feel like I can’t sleep until I write about it…and I happen to have ownership of a little website called Padinkydink…so I spill my guts on the world wide web.

 

I am not going to make promises or post intentions.  All I can do is say that I am hopeful that the bug has bitten me and I will write more.  It does help give me a sense of purpose. It also gives me the hope that in seeing just how easy it is to spill a little bit of your guts, that I can convince some other people to do the same, and so on.  Just like that time I bought lunch for the next person in line at Burger King.  I am trying to pay it forward and hopefully this won’t backfire on me like THAT did.  Speaking of advice … if you plan to be nice and buy lunch for someone, do it in the drive-through.  Then you can say, ‘Hey how much is the total for the car behind me?…I’d like to contribute $10 to their total, please tell them to Pay It Forward.’  I did not do that.  Long story short…Madi and I were out shopping and decided to stop at the BK lounge (AKA Burger King) so LIVE, in person, I made friends with a sweet old lady in line at the counter.  It had just started snowing and she had a hole in her sweater, no coat.  She let us go in line in front of her, and something came over me so I offered to buy HER lunch…Madi and I had just paid $11 and some change for our lunch when I got this little epiphany to “do good”…and $27.00 later I made an old lady cry (tears of joy of course) and taught my daughter a valuable lesson…the pay it forward thing of course…and you know…ONLY do that shit in the drive-through.

 

Love, peace, Chicken Grease…

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