A Million Stories in the City: Why Do I Love One About a Cigarette?

Last night my train of thought stopped on a memory from the Leap Day before last. Which is, of course, eight long years ago.

Back then I was a thirty-something working woman. A daily commuter. A regular smoker. Just a few of the ways it was a different life entirely.

Fiercely Letting it Shine

A few nights ago a friend reached out to me, dismayed that as Serendipity I am not shining a light on the real struggles many parents face every day. I fail to talk about the daily grind many face to put food on the table, to carve out quality time with their children, if they even have a chance to see their kids at all. 

For a moment, I admit, I felt like lashing out. Although I knew she was giving me her thoughts with and out of respect, I was really hurt. Frankly, I was also confused, because I certainly struggle with things beyond dropping my full Venti Starbucks Latte* all over the bathroom before Girl’s ballet class.

*Yes, that happened. Funnily enough, I don’t think I posted about it. Because it was a day that was full of highs and lows and in the end, there is no use crying over spilled coffee. 

Make no mistake, I know my life is pretty fecking amazing. I am married to a man I truly love (even when I'd like to throat punch him), who blessed me with two fantastic and outrageous children. We are lucky that he has a good job, which provides for us to be comfortable, and for me not to have to work outside of the home. He’s also in a union, which provides us affordable access to good health insurance. And that is truly fortunate, because I have been laid up with one broken/torn piece or another for the better part of a year. It also allows us to address the issues that have come up with The Rebels. 

But honestly, what took me by surprise was that whether or not I struggle, or what I struggle with isn’t really relevant. 

Jaime Grayson (TheBabyGuyNYC) often replies to comments he receives with "I don’t know your struggle." And while he often does so as a humorous response, it's honestly the most accurate thing anyone can say. 

Every day each of us will struggle. With what and how we chose to handle it, those are things that an outsider can never really speak to. 

I don't know your struggle. This doesn’t mean I don’t care about it. I am glad to listen, should you chose to tell me. What it means is, I don’t have the experience of your life to put this moment in context. Without meaning this to be dismissive, I frankly don't see "the struggle" as the total of your life's story. And while it may be real, my struggle isn’t all of my story. 

By way of example, SisterCat (who is like my sister & is cool with my referring to her by that name), is a single mom. I cannot imagine being in her shoes. Single parenthood is literally my worst nightmare. However, it's the only situation she's known as a mother. As it happens, she lives near her own parents, and has (in my view) an incredible support system of local friends. 

In contrast, neither Hubs' nor my families are remotely local. And because of his job, we have moved away from the family of friends that we have here in NYC. So for us, there's no one who can watch the kids in a pinch. Childcare is paid for, and not cheaply. This is not a complaint, it is the story of our normal life. I'm sure there are times SisterCat cannot imagine dealing with my circumstances. 

For all the similarities between SisterCat and I, for all the times we chat and laugh & bitch about our kids, motherhood is different for each of us. If she makes choices that I would not make, I can’t honestly say I understand or don’t, because I can never walk in her shoes. 

After some thought, this was my reply to my friend who called me out: "I would say that for the most part, I am not focusing on more than finding the bright spots. [I’m] looking for the humor in all of it. I'm blessed in lots of ways. But the fact is that I struggle with not crying my eyes out over [my pain] & over all the bad shite. [Instead] I truly try to shine out the light I want to find.”

So if you think I’m all rainbows and kittens, let me drop some truth on you. I am not always nice. In person I am probably too loud, and I’m certain I yell too often and too loudly at my children. I swear like the sailor’s daughter I am, and I’m terrible about watching my language around my own children. The Rebels each have their own struggles, and they test my weaknesses, often without even meaning too. I pray every day for more patience. I cry, often, in frustration. I get mad & I vent & I do my best to let my anger go. I apologize. A lot. 

I’ve said before, I’m not trying to blow sunshine up your pipes. Well, maybe by sharing #SunriseInToddlerville/#SunriseInRebelshire photos all the time I am, actually. The thing is, each morning I wake up, I roll over, and I look outside. Every dawn is different. Every day is different. 

That IS my perspective. That is MY goal: To see each day new. It is my choice to not focus my energy and attention on the negatives. I cannot change what came before today. I can own my part. I can learn from it and move forward. Every day I try and be the smile in the crowd. I try to keep an open mind and an open heart. Each day I try, and when I fail, and when I fall, I take what I need to recover. Then I try again. 

If you follow me on social media you’ll probably know that EVERY week I post about my #OnWednesdaysWeWearPink campaign. What started as a reminder for myself that I am part of the fight against breast cancer has grown to something larger. I still want to call on everyone (guys and gals alike) to check their humps for lumps. But early on I recognized that it was a weekly reminder to empower myself. 

In turn, it has become my weekly reminder to everyone: #BeFierce, #BeKind, #BePositive. #BeTheLight or #BeTheLightYouWantToSee.  The last week in thinking about all the ways we each battle through our days I decided to add  #YouAreWorthFightingFor to my list of reminders. 

So do I hope that I’m creating a space that brings joy or humor or in some small way is a bright spot in your day? Absolutely. 

Do I think I need to enumerate all the things that could be holding you down, making you want to hide under your covers and give in? Nope. 

Just know that someone believes You Are Worth Fighting For. 

If you enjoyed this post, please click below to vote for me! Big Hugs & Thanks!

The Shy Poet & Unexpected Treasures

What follows is the twisted tale of how my photographs came to be published in a best selling poetry book. If you find this to be far-fetched and completely random, well, I would wholeheartedly agree with you. It is, nonetheless, entirely true.

Like all good stories, we must begin with a prologue:

Not so long ago, but in a part of my life seems so very far away, I designed the album artwork for a band. (Like for real, it's on iTunes and everything.) 

You see, my significant other was a friend of the guitarist, & we'd seen them perform countless times. They weren't a "hair band", though oddly all had fantastical hair. Each performance I'd think “I have to bring a camera and capture all of this.” So, naturally, I did just that; taking photos during bar gigs, playing at being Annie Liebowitz or something. 

Maybe they just liked my chutzpah, or probably because they wanted me to knock it off during shows, I found myself invited to shoot during their rehearsals. 

Yada yada yada... my proximity to the band led to me doing not only some photography, but all the graphic design for the band's EP. 

As it happens when artists work well together on one project, the guitarist and I became collaborators on any number of things. Some, like the band’s EP, were brought to fruition. Others, well, not so much. You know how it goes with “artistes” and their artistic endeavors: personalities clash, passions and tempers flare, relationships explode... Finally the project, no matter how utterly brilliant or beautiful, is abandoned. 

Flash forward about 6 years. Which is also a rewind to just a few months ago. But that’s confusing, so never mind. 

So my friend Chasity (aka The Shy Poet) announces she has a deal to publish a book of her original poetry. In our little corner of the Internet this is a very big deal. Her poetry is universal, approachable, often heartbreaking & lovely. 

Not terribly long into her work on the book, she publicly declares a need for images that are not previously published or copyrighted. 

I was sure I’d have a photo or two that she could use & if it would help her, why not? So I threw my hat in the ring & offered up my photography. As did about 90 other people. I mean that literally. And I am being totally honest when I say I NEVER imagined she’d want to use any of my work. Well, maybe one or something, to be nice. I offered because I wanted to help my friend. The fact that this was for print publication was so far out of my thoughts it barely registered.  

So you can understand my total fecking shock when she tells me she’s not only hoping to use some of my photos, she’d really like to use only my photos.

Oh, and can we do this in a matter of days?! Deadlines… 

My first thought (after OMG, yes!!!) was “Whoa... she wants 12??? That means she needs to see a collection to choose from. No, no, no… Oh dammit, I can’t pull together a portfolio of photos for her to pick from in a matter of hours!” Yes, friends and neighbors, full on panic was the emotion. Elation? Yes. But massive panic. 

Then it hit me: The abandoned project.

The guitarist & I had been working on an audio-visual piece under the working title of “Pure.” Had it been destined for gallery installation or YouTube? We weren't sure, but both of us had been pumped. For my part this meant all my spare time was spent editing photos and video montages. With the project shelved, hundreds of photographs went into cold storage on my hard drive. I was too disheartened to do anything with them. 

In that abandoned computer file was the answer to my anxiety attack. I had an archive of photos that were unused, unseen, and easily sorted in a matter of hours. I was able to present Chasity with a portfolio of photos I loved but hadn’t had a reason to work with for years. Finally some of these pieces would get to be a part of something extraordinary: a collaboration with a friend & an artist that I could trust with my work. As intended. 

Problems resolved, I hurried to get things sorted out so Chas could make her deadline. It was days after she'd seen all the photos & maybe not even until the whole project was wrapped that I realized how remarkable the situation was.

Truly the stars had to align for these photos to finally find a proper home. 

Serendipity. Queen of Silver Linings. These are my monikers because I know I have stumbled my way into some fairly remarkable things. I've always come out of the darkness of yesterday into a brighter tomorrow. I continue to be honestly surprised (and humbled) by the path my life has taken. 

If you enjoyed this post, please click below to vote for me! Big Hugs & Thanks!