No one else can do it for her. It is hers. She owns it.

She has many selves within her. Some constant, some not. Her writer self has been in a dormant stage, cocooning away on quick snatches of reading escapades - fit into a world  so busy that she's not sure sometimes if she can keep moving forward. But, she does... These last weeks of wrapping up another school year for her children are a juggle fest of working full-time, multiple school events,  baseball play-offs, and volunteering. Life is full.

At first she raged inwardly at the injustice of not having enough time to write. Then she stewed and wept. Now?  She's feeling justified in her stalemate. She can't be forced out of her hole, having reached a certain comfort level of vague indifference. No... she will have to be both inveigler and resolute victor...finding the rhythms again. Embracing her saucy and her veracity. No one else can do it for her. It is hers. She owns it.

Her writer self is here, lying in wait. Just under the surface. Everyone has a calling. She, alone, has to realize that her calling has validity and value, because she can't live without it...

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Neglect of self is unbecoming in its blatant abandonment of the soul

When we allow the world to pass us by at a record clip, our lives lose color and flavor. Clarity does not come from the absence of color, but more from an abundance of varied shades. The nuances allow us to rise and dip...flowing into a rhythm with context. In opposition, Colorless is a world that loses shape and contour from a life of busy.

Whether the lipstick index holds validity in today's economy or not...  sometimes the gift of color brought to you in a small package is all it takes to boost your spirits. Spending $2 or $20 on that little tube of tint somehow makes the world a bit better. Do we look better? Maybe. But, it's bigger than that. More than the artifice of adding on. It's the idea of prioritizing "me."

Inevitably, in our everyday lives, we get caught up in the mundane - our self-defeating safety net in avoiding risk at all costs becoming addictive. But, like any addiction over time, it begins to chafe and burn until its unbearable weight becomes the very thorn in the flesh that forces us out of our dozing complacency and back into the world.

Neglect of self is unbecoming in its blatant abandonment of the soul. Far more than a lipstick lift, caring for oneself as if you matter raises the spirit in ways often beyond description. When our souls are livened, the inner fires burn hot and we exude a seductive vibrancy.

Life is full of color. A varietal of subtle hues and dazzling, messy stains. It isn't a distant destination at the end of the rainbow. It is in the right here and the right now. So, slap on those sunglasses, ease the seat back and release the break. You're in the driver's seat...


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Complacency is a state of mind that exists only in retrospective: it has to be shattered before being ascertained. 

Vladimir Nabokov

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