Oh! and BTW...

  We all have them. Some of us are given them at birth. Some of us acquire them along the way. Some come from no fault of our own, some come from choices we make. Some are given to us by others, accidentally or unfortunately, on purpose. But eventually we all become one of the walking wounded. This is not a sad soliloquy that follows. This is an affirmation that we carry our scars, our imperfections for a reason. God, Goddess, Higher Power, or Collective Humanity. Whichever you subscribe to, assigns no shame on where you are or where you have been. You have a story and that is what is important. You have insight, that is what is important. You have advice, that is what is important. Your imperfections, your scars are a gift. Some of us can just roll up our sleeves and it is obvious from the cigarette burns, razor slashes or track marks. Our stories are easier seen. Some of us need to unzip our bodies to show the scars on our psyche, our hearts, our souls in order to assure those ar...

Just Beyond the Fingertips of God I ponder. I spend hours pondering, the who's, the why's, the how's, the if's... I am an over ponderer. I have written "ponder" so much in the first sentence it doesn't even look like a real word anymore. I am idiotropic and the antitheses of a sophophobiac. I look inside myself for answers although I am am terrified they are not already there waiting for me. I have had thousands of "ah HA!" moments. I am almost 60.. Everything from, "OMG, nina you look horrible in blue eye shadow!" (what the heck was I thinking then anyway?) to the more subtle ones with deeper significance  nina