My Pigpen Story (Journey To Me)

by tiffanyJourney To Me, Real Life, short storiesPosted on No Comments

My pigpen story Journey to me

From birth to age 10 I grew up across the street from a pig farm. It was my family’s farm and my uncles ran it.

My sisters and I would run and play up on the farm. I remember climbing up on the stacked hay and talking with my sisters. We would pet the goats and watch the pigs. When my uncles, dad, or another adult was around they would pick up the little piglets to let us hold them.

Even after my family moved a town over we would visit my memere and the farm. We would still play and pet the pigs whenever we visited. We had farm shoes over my memere’s house that we would wear when the farm was muddy.

One day, when I was in middle school I brought a friend over to the farm and we played in one of the pigpens. Most of the pigs stayed away from us. We still had fun in the slippery pen. We slid and fell many times, which to a child is a fun time. 

By the time we had enough fun we were both covered in what we thought was mud. We cheerfully went back down the hill to my memere’s home. She informed us that it was not just mud and she hosed us off before we could enter her house to fully get cleaned. Typically, we just had to take off our farm shoes. This time was different, we were too messy to be allowed in the house.

My memere still reminds me about the time my friend and I got covered in pig manure.

Want More?

I have more stories that shows how I became who I am. They are in the Journey to Me series. I also have stories specifically about God and of course I wrote a book about my views and experiences with Love called To Love.

DreamWard Bound- Separating Goals

by tiffanyDreamward bound, LifePosted on No Comments

For a while I looked at my ideal life and dreams as part of a whole. When I created goals they were not organized and did not have clear categories. They were all lumped together in the ideal life I would write out.

About five months ago I needed to re-energize my goals and become dreamward bound again. I needed a change, so I tried something new.

Instead of simply writing my ideal life out as one whole thing then separate it out into steps or goals I could take, I separated my ideal life into areas first and then made a plan.

I wrote how I wanted my spiritual life, writing life, visual arts life, physical health, mental life, and relationships to look. I took that information and asked myself how close I thought I could get in 5 years. I may have lofty goals, but my ideal life write-ups are also my 5 year goals.

I took my 5 year goals and asked how close could I see myself being in 1 year, then 6 months, then 3 months. It was easy to break the 3 months into 1 month and finally weekly goals.

Since I like bullet points and lists here is what I did in step form.

  1. Section out your life (Spiritual, relationship, hobby, career, mental, physical, emotion, etc)
  2. Write an ideal life for each of the sections.
  3. Write out how close you want to be in 5 years for the first section.
  4. Narrow your goals down to the top 3 for the section you are working on.
  5. Organize the 3 goals to Level A, Level B, and Level C goals (Level A being the highest/ most important)
  6. Create 1 year goals, 6 month goals, 3 months goals, 1 month goals, and finally 1 week goals.
  7. Repeat until all sections are completed.

As I reach each milestone I make adjustment notes and assess if the goals and organization still makes sense. So far it has made sense and helped me stay on track.

I can keep track of my plan. I know that I should focus on Level A goals before Level B goals. I also know that my spiritual life is more important than my writing. which is more important than my visual art.

If you are interested in creating goals I would highly recommend sectioning your life into different areas and creating you ideal areas of life. You can then make a plan easier to get to you ideal life.

A Vacation In My Home (Journey To Me)

by tiffanyJourney To Me, Real LifePosted on No Comments
A Vacation In My Home

In Mid March of 2017 I had what I called “a fast from life.” I took time off work, did not watch television during the day, did not go on social media or the internet, and did a tradition fast of no food except for liquids. It was a time of reflection on life, self searching, and relaxing that lasted 5 days. In that time I wrote the following.

The First Day

It is about one o’clock on a sunny Wednesday and I hear a bird chirping in the distance . There is a gentle breeze that passes through my open windows. I am sitting on the ground of my beige living room. My back is leaning against my grey recliner and my fuzzy teal pillow. I have a teal body pillow on my lap and a sense of being home in my heart. This is only a small studio, but it is perfect for me.

The fast that it is beige is broken up with my light wood furniture, grey chair, and silver lamp in my living. My office has no structured definition, but instead of light furniture it has a black desk, a black bookcase, and a dark wood chair, but my art supply storage is a happy turquoise. Plus, there is a gallery wall of my art and the art I have collected.

My bedroom and reading nook are up a ladder in my loft.

The bathroom is huge.

There is also a kitchenette with a stove top, microwave, and an unused toaster oven.

My home is complete and my own.

It is perfect and my own paradise, which is why I’m taking a vacation here. I wanted to take time to figure out myself and a plan for my life. I need direction and to know that I’m on the path God wants me to be on. My original thought was to go away – travel.

I would not be distracted by the fact the grocery store is only 15 minutes away and there is a taco place even closer. If I traveled I won’t be reminded of all the different forms of art I play with. In that same thought I wouldn’t have my art supplies or all the projects I’m working on. Plus, why pay for a hotel when I just want to feel my pen on paper, sleep whenever I want,and read the rest of the time.

It is the first day of my fast from life and already I am liking it. I slept til 8, had a massage, and read 6 chapters in the Bible. I am very relaxed and peaceful. This is how I want to start this experimental fast that will be focused on God’s future for me.

For the next 5 days if my mind wonders I’ll let it. It is free to roam the forest of my thoughts, but I will also put it to work while it is near. This way I will remain calm and relaxed while I pray and search for what God will have me do.

After The Fast

This was the first day of the fast and by the end I had a rough plan. I had things I would be giving up and things that I would be adding to my life.

As I review the list of changes, I am noticing that some of the negative things crept back into my life. Thankfully, all except for one have been removed again. I am working on most of the positives habits. I did slip on them, but once I got back on track with my goals I started to have all, with the exception of one, in my weekly goals.

Want More?

I have more stories that shows how I became who I am. They are in the Journey to Me series. I also have stories specifically about God and of course I wrote a book about my views and experiences with Love called To Love.

Little Blue Bird Poem

Little Blue Bird (Poem)

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on No Comments

Little blue bird
why do you sing?
Little blue bird
where do you fly?

Do you fly from tree to tree?
Are you still looking for your home?
Little blue bird
do you fly home?
Little blue bird
is home the reason you sing?

 

Want More?

If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio or watch a few of my poetry readings.

Heart Journey, Journey to me blog series image

Why I Hate Birds: My Swan Attack Story

by tiffanyJourney To Me, My Author's Portfolio, Real Life, short stories, Short Stories PortfolioPosted on No Comments
swan attack journey to me

It should be known that I hate birds. It is partly out of fear and partly is because I think at least fowl and larger birds are evil. I can handle smaller birds and can stand pet birds, like cockatiels. Roosters, swans, and geese are not okay in my book.

I have had a few negative run-ins with birds in my life. The first one I remember is the swan that attacked me and my now step-sister.

Until I was 10 I lived across the street from my uncles’ pig farm. They also had goats and chickens. I would always go over there and one day I went with my step-sister.

We went into the goat’s area. It was a fenced in patch of land that was a bit rocky, but grass still grew.

I did not realize that a swan made a nest and laid eggs in the grass, until I got too close. The swan chased my step-sister and me. We scrambled up some rocks, since we could not get back to the gate. There was a thorny bush on the other side of the fence. There was a short argument about leaping the fence, since we would be jumping into the thorns. The evil swan was ready to attack, but no major injuries occurred. I believe we jumped the fence or one of my uncles came to chase the bird away.

I want to say my uncle chased away the massive bird with a shovel in hand, but I can only remember the terror of the swan’s attack with its flapping wings and the feeling of being trapped.

Want More?

If you would like to read more short stories please check out my Portfolio or perhaps you would enjoy watching readings of my work on YouTube. You can also read more of Journey To Me, which is the series this is from.

A Poem About A Painting

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on No Comments

A Poem about a painting

The Vine of Life
grows and splits.
The only thing that is clear
is the vine travels many ways,
flowers will bloom in their own time
and when they do
bees will come;
loving the flowers,
but not too soon.
Off to the side
A Rose does bloom
her bee is not yet seen.

 

Want More?

If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.

My Speech Journey (Journey To Me)

by tiffanyJourney To Me, Real LifePosted on No Comments
My Speech (Journey To Me)

I will be blunt because there is no real way of talking about my speech journey without doing so. I have a speech impediment, where d’s and t’s don’t always come out right or at all. This is especially true when d’s and t’s are in the middle of a word and I haven’t said that word a lot or at all.

Growing up I hated that it was called an impediment. It wasn’t because of any negative experience I’ve had with having a speech impediment. I hated it because I blurred the syllables together. I couldn’t say what I had well.

After years of speech therapy, theater, and practice, friends and most people have said they don’t notice it. It can now be hidden and I can speak to be understood now.

Still, I can hear it. I may not consciously be aware of it with every word I say, but I know it is still there in the shadows. It especially yells at me when I listen to a recording or when I’m speaking through a microphone.

I repeat the words my friends tell me, “It’s just how I sound. It’s just how I talk.” I remind myself it makes me unique and those who matter don’t fault me for it.

How I get over it.

For a time I cringed my way through editing videos of where I am speaking, whether it was monologues, tips, or improv videos. I forced myself to get comfortable with my voice. It did help me become more comfortable with my voice and accept it.

Eventually the videos slowed to a stop. The improved self-esteem for my speech was only a bi-product and my goals that were the real focus of the videos were not in the foreground of my motivation.

I gave little thought to my voice or speech for a while. It was not interfering with my life and it didn’t seem like an issue. I could listen to my voice without cringing now and everyone could understand me. Part of my thought that the impediment was behind me. It was something I had not have.  It felt as though the struggle with my impediment was over or a tiny pebble in the shadows of a far corner of my mind.

The funny thing with the mind is if you shine a light on a pebble it can grow. Even the slightest connection to it can create a boulder under the right circumstances. The pebble becomes a hurdle, which opens wounds that should have been healed.

I’m now facing my issues again.

Partly from stress and partly because a light was shined on my speech, I now had to face my speech impediment again. Even though the focus on my speech had nothing to do with the impediment, I saw my insecurities surrounding it.

I now have to figure out why the pain of not speaking exactly like everyone else still remains and threatens to come out at the slightest reference. Why does anything negative relating to speech or talking bring me to tears?

On the surface, it appears that the reasons are easily seen. I want to be viewed as smart, but I must first sound intelligent. If  I’m fumbling over words, stuttering, and finding replacements that I can say my IQ appears to drop.

I do not want what I view as my weakness and flaw hold me back. When it does I feel all the times its held me back. I am reminded of going to speech classes, being taken out of regular classes to go to a special speech therapy class, and feeling the label of “different” on me when it was not my choice.

Labels and the Past

Even now when I gladly wear “unique” and “different” as a proud badge, being different in speech hurts. It transports me back to being a child who did not ask for the label or want it.

I always felt loved and do not remember anyone teasing me about my impediment. They would tease me and bully me for other reasons, but never for how I spoke.

I do not want to blame my short coming or not getting things in life on my speech impediment. Hardly anyone notices now and if they do they say it doesn’t change their view of me. However, when it’s noticed it changes my view of myself. I’m reminded of the shy little girl. I find my shell again and must fight the urge to get back in it. I do fight though and write instead of crawling into my safe shell.

When the time is right I will explore why my speech impediment still hurts so badly when it is in the light. It is part of me and should not hurt me, yet it still does.

For now I will again work on tongue twisters and vocal exercises to overcome my flaws. I will become comfortable with my voice once again. I will remind myself that I’m my own success person. I’m strong and I am loved.

The relationship with my speech is a journey that I may stumble along, but I’m at least making progress and discovering more sides of who I am.

Want More?

I have more stories that shows how I became who I am. They are in the Journey to Me series. I also have stories specifically about God and of course I wrote a book about my views and experiences with Love called To Love.

My Heart (a song)

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on No Comments

My Heart (a song)

Here’s my heart
please don’t break it
It’s all I have
even though I didn’t make it

It was made
by the ones who love it
It was made
by the ones who tore it
It is made
by the smiles you give it
It is made
by the tears that heal it

So, here’s my heart
please don’t break it
It’s all I have
even though I didn’t make it

It’s built by
the walls of protection
It’s built by
the gates of trusting
It’s made by
fear of more rejection
It’s made bu
acts of affection.

So, here’s my heart
please don’t break it
It’s all I have
even though I didn’t make it

Thank you for reading this song. I hope you enjoyed it. 

Want More?

If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.

Left On The Bus (Journey To Me)

by tiffanyJourney To Me, Real Life, short storiesPosted on No Comments
Left On The Bus short story

On this journey, I must look at where I’ve been and the stories that shaped my life. I believe it is important to look in the rearview mirror every so often to see the path you are on a little clearer. The first story I’m reflecting on while on this journey of self-discovery happened when I was a child. It was when I was left on a school bus.

When I was 5 I would ride the bus to kindergarten. One day the bus driver dropped all the kids off at school but did not check the seats. She left the school and parked the bus in her normal bus parking lot, but was in a rush. She had to take her grandson to the doctors or meet him at the hospital. Again she did not check the seats on the bus.

I stress this point, because little 5 year old me was asleep in one of the seats. At that time I could sleep anywhere and apparently through anything.

When I woke

I snapped to consciousness in an empty bus parked in an unfamiliar location. I still remember the location. It was a packed dirt parking lot filled with buses somewhat close to the town’s blue water tower. It was almost a sky blue and looked like a mechanical ellipsoid.

After leaving the bus I made it to the road. I did not know where to go. I was only 5 and did not know where I was.

The only thing that I could do was sit on the curb and cry. I’m not sure how long after my tears started that a lady, in what I remember as, a brown boxy sedan pulled up. I only remember that she did and offered me a ride to the police station.

At first I did not want to go with this stranger, but she seemed nice and there were car seats in the back of her car. To 5 year old me that meant she was a mom and safe.

She did bring me to the police station.

I cannot tell you what questions were asked once I was there. I’m not sure many people could understand me well, since I had a speech impediment. That did not inhibit them in finding where I belonged.

Soon I was asked if I wanted to ride in the sergeant’s car or a cruiser. After they explained the difference I picked one. I cannot remember which one I actually picked. I didn’t really care. My only goal was to be somewhere familiar.

The police officer brought back to school where I believe my mom picked me up.

From that day on I have been a lighter sleeper, especially while in a moving vehicle.

Want More?

I have more stories that shows how I became who I am. They are in the Journey to Me series. I also have stories specifically about God and of course I wrote a book about my views and experiences with Love called To Love.

I Can’t Lie Down (a song)

by tiffanyPoetryPosted on No Comments

I can't lie down

You wonder and you ask me
Does your hope fly up in the sky?
Do you need your dreams to hide from reality?
Can you stop now from chasing your wants?

You see
I could give up and I could lie down.
I could turn away if you showed me how.
I would watch t.v. or read the whole night long
my time would be only all mine.

Yes,
I could give up and I could lie down
I could turn away if you showed me how
My nights would be free, my weekends filled with sleep.
And Alcohol, well it would be my best friend.

I really could give up and I could lie down
I could turn away. Please showed me how.
Life would be much easier, easier for me.
Easier to catch a breath, easier to do anything,
but that’s not me.
That cannot be me.
I am my dreams, not this reality.

I guess
I can’t give up and I can’t lie down.
I can’t turn away, I simply don’t know how.
I have to stand up and I have to fight.
Have to stay my path, that only seems right.

I will paint my thoughts and write what’s in my heart.
My time will belong to my dreams.

I can’t give up and I can’t lie down.
I can’t turn away, I simply don’t know how.
I have to stand up and I have to fight.
Have to stay my path, that only seems right.

My nights will be filled, my weekends hugged by hope.
And I will dance where my dream may go.

Because
I can’t give up and I can’t lie down.
I can’t turn away, I simply don’t know how.
I have to stand up and I have to fight.
Have to stay my path, that only seems right.

I don’t typically write songs as you may know, so getting a finished song done is tricky for me. I believe the words are almost there, which is why I’m sharing them with you. I am still working on the tune and notes. 

Please let me know what you think of it. Any and all feedback is welcomed.

 

Want More?

If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.