When your friend is gay and raised in a strict Mormon household, you can imagine he’s pretty reflective. Such is my friend James.
James is a successful hair stylist in Jcrewville. He gives all the moms in town his trademarked shade of blond, oddly making us all like similar when he is so beautifully different. He also gives out good advice.
Last time I saw him, he told me he’d been getting signs from “the universe.” He believes that if we send out our requests out to the universe, the universe will respond.
“Isn’t that the same concept of prayer and God?” I asked.
“You could say that” he said. “But the point is to listen and pay attention. There are always signs or little nudges – you just have to be aware.”
Two weeks ago, the freelance project I’d been working on was starting to suck. The client was stressed and angry about all sorts of things, and her frustration was directed at everyone, including me. And since pleasing sadly defines me, I felt wounded. Maybe I can’t do this, I thought. Maybe ten years at home has made me ineffective at anything beyond making beds and wiping chins.
So I limped over to my laptop and posted on my blog, the blog I’ve been ignoring. And then by some strange stroke of luck, the post is featured on Freshly Pressed. I learned this at lunch when my email was besieged with amazing comments from people I didn’t know. And it didn’t stop – for two days. Hour by hour, strangers telling me they liked what I’d written or that they agreed with me. People sharing their own stories with me, from places like South Africa.
I tried to respond to every comment, I’m so grateful — but with my job and it being the first two weeks of school, I am still working on it. Every comment has meant something.
So I’ve shoved into some bootstraps and am getting on happily because of the encouragement that came to me in not-so-random droves.
16 thoughts on “A Universal Thank You”
I don’t typically read through Freshly Pressed blogs that often. When I do chance to read through some of the selected blogs, I have to admit that I often ponder what got that particular blog selected for the honor. (Immediately I remember a featured blog whose entry was nothing but some hapless boob posing for photos in an old cemetery in various poses wearing a leather jacket… this is exceptional blogging??!) I had no question about yours! You have a very interesting, lilting literary voice… not to mention a sneaky sense of humor.
After reading through some of your entries randomly, I forwarded several of them to family and friends I knew would enjoy them.
Thanks for blogging. 🙂
Thank YOU for commenting. Not only do I love your comments (me! me! me!), but I love your blog. It’s incredible. You are very talented, new friend.
I was wondering why *now* comments were flying left and right (Uh-huh I’d subscribed to some comments…I’m nosy that way). Thank you for explaining 🙂
And it makes me sooo happy! It shows what extremely great taste I have in blogs, of course, but even better it means maybe the universe is telling you to write more? I would be okay with that!!
Hey you. Hope you’re doing well, feeling good.
I know the comments, right? They were like whoosh, whoosh — friggin awesome.
Damn. This is why I hate being such a slacker. I miss amazing moments like this. I’m happy to see that the attention went to a blogger so deserving. Because you’re wonderful and your posts? Lovely. (Ugh. Could I be any sappier?) (Is “sappier” even a word?)
I miss you and your life. I can’t get on your new blog. It’s like blocked. I need a password or something. I’ve been meaning to email, but since I barely brush my teeth these days…
How are you?
I wondered why so many comments last time. HA! I found her first!
Please keep blogging – as often as the children and your job allow!
I’ve been waiting for you to post something new. Really… I have. I’m not sure how I stumbled upon you, but I like you… I really like you. Really… I do.
I am a blogger too. However, I’m not sure anybody really reads the thing, but I do hope they take a gander, at least once and a while. I’m a working mother (ugh) trying to figure out whether or not I’m scarring my 16 month old for life by leaving him at daycare. So blogging, for me, is an outlet. Connecting with other bloggers, such as yourself who are witty, creative and real, is something I look forward to as I steal a quiet moment to myself (and sip on wine when baby’s in bed). Oh, and I’m a teacher… so any chance to converse with anyone over the age of ten is welcome too.
I like your blog. Please write more.
I like you, too. In fact, I really enjoyed your blog. I’ll be back. Keep sipping your wine and writing.
Life is a strange animal – you never know where its going to take you, you can never tell when its working for you or against you, never answers your questions because you can’t speak the same way as it does… but somehow it keeps going and you keep riding along with it and if you keep your eyes open… well, you never know what’s coming on the horizon.
Glad to hear you found something positive here and congrats on the ‘freshly pressed’ – all the best for the future and keep blogging and interacting with people here, it can be quite interesting and a learning experience.
Most days life feels more like a wild beast than strange animal. On that particular day, however, it stopped gnashing teeth and crawled up into my lap, purring.
It was a great day.
Ah, therein lies the strange-ness I think. Roaring lion one day, purring kitty the next, and everything in between the rest of the time! 😀
I also found your blog on Freshly Pressed and I am glad to see so many have commented and expressed in words what I couldn’t think to type. I found your blog during working hours (oops!) and couldn’t help but gradually (over the space of the day) read. The thanks should be to you for writing so truthfully and with such wit. Of course the best part is also letting us all share the experience.
I’m not exactly sure what it means to scoff, but I’m pretty sure I scoffed when I read the part about only being suited to nuke nuggets. First of all, that is a major skill. I routinely burn things in the microwave. Secondly, you’re qualified for MANY things more than that such as eavesdropping in coffee shops, taking fantastic pictures of girls jumping in lakes, and writing brilliant everythings.
So quit that and revel in your awesomeness.
signed, not singed (though I could probably compose a really bad song about being Jealous…except that the Gin Blossoms already did that)