Of the Gattuso Varietal

Remember that time I said I was going to be more dedicated at blogging?

Yes, well, hopefully I've trained you, dear reader, to be immune to my lack of frequency. But this evening, with Ruby in a most precariously globular stupor and the jasmine oil diffuser that's helping me slough off anxiety, I feel a bit like I can take yet another stab at this.

I've been stuffing my face with Vince Guaraldi music since last week and trying to turn off the bad switches in my head so I can somewhat calm down (turns out, actual REM sleep is not overrated). It's not a cure in pill form, per se, but it is certainly helpful. Like the jasmine, and most importantly, like my mom.

So here is to that person that helps you stay sane - that person that helps you realize a number of things, but ultimately brings about the epiphany that helps you understand that, regardless of your issue(s), it is going to be ok. And because of her gracious selflessness, her acute devotion to integrity and humility and unconditional love, this post is dedicated to my mother. Because of all the things I am truly grateful for, her presence - her being there for me - is of the utmost importance to me.

Mom's lessons from the Thanksgiving weekend:

Humility - doesn't have to be an admittance of inferiority. It is merely humility - an acceptance and willingness to be quiet and learn.
Creativity - it takes serious energy to be creative. Without energy, creativity suffers.
Health - is paramount. Everything centers around your sanity. Protect it at all costs.
Stress - destroys it all. Protect yourself against it at all costs.
Anxiety - change the fear switch into something positive, into resolve.
Judgement - shouldn't come from those who love you...

And most importantly, because I needed to hear it:

I'm not alone.





Thanks for everything, Mom. I love you with all of my heart!