|There's something incredibly hopeful about a fresh start.|
When your soul is simply waiting for your body to get with the program every 4 in the morning, I have to say I am many many steps ahead. My whole being has come to realize this buddy system works. Knowing myself enough from having the difficult conversations with myself has brought me here. There is no shade of gray. Everything is in full color. Gone are the endless days of "what now", "I don't know", "not so sure" and "not today." Life is so much simpler. The skies are always blue even when it's raining cats and dogs. Not to say that no new questions come up. There's always something I may not know... but the answers are not hard to find. The challenges are what keeps life interesting. Mind,...
Dear Lady Lettrist,
I'm going through a period of growth. Changes are challenging, aren't they? Oh but so necessary! With change, I can't help but to think of the symbolism in the life of a butterfly. Without anything but survival instincts, and that which God has given it, every caterpillar lives , bound within limitations of distance and elevation. When then, life seems so hard, almost too possible, God's preplanned Beautiful invites this creature to embrace itself with protection, love, shelter, and rest. I can only imagine how exhausted these little creatures must be by the time in their life when they are meant to create their chrysalis!! They made it. Trials and Victories, hang ...
On Friday nights, little kids participate in my class. This class allows you to push and pull only but the kids have trouble differentiating a push from a strike.
It's a challenge to partner up with a little child. When they are 5 and 6 years old they're three feet tall and everyone has to adapt. I have to stand lower in my stance even if it kills my knees and I am likely getting pushed in my gut which is normally their chest level. As short as I am they are unable to reach my shoulders without disconnecting. We have to stay connected at all times. They have small hands and tend to grip with their fingernails digging in my skin. Self-control is something that takes a long time to learn.
The one thing about me that people might not know is how protective I am. As dismissive as I can be to a lot of things, my family is excluded from that. My children are my world. If I get a whiff of danger to them, no matter how small, my fangs will drop visibly and I'm prepared to kill. I will not stop until the threat is gone. I will feast on the threat's torn flesh and drink his blood. I will pick my teeth with the bones left behind. If there's a soul to devour that too will be gone. I pray that you are not a threat to my children. I will hurt any threat with no remorse.
I can't force people to respect me. I've learned that it's not a reflection of me and I snapped out of self-doubt. Respect cannot be forced but I can certainly REFUSE to be disrespected.
Life reminds me when I become complacent. I recently had a stimulating adult conversation with a stranger. Wise, he seemed until his self-help-books-learned knowledge contradicted his actions. The words flowed. I almost wanted to pay him for giving me a recap of what I've read years and years ago. When he saw how absorbed I was in his wisdom he carried on like he was Tony Robbins. Maybe he thought he was Zig Ziglar or Napoleon Hill. I was eventually distracted and his repertoire of wise words was nothing but white noise. He had an audience. The authenticity of his intentions flew out the window. He was just bragging now. A swift kick in the groin would have awakened him from the self-hypnosis...
Dear Lady Lettrist, thank you for the comment you left on my letter ☺️ it made me smile
If nobody seems to love you the way you need to be loved... love yourself harder than anybody you know has ever loved you. The day will come that you won't have that need... knowing you love yourself enough will sustain you.
- lady lettrist
My Dearest Jennifer,
Today I celebrate with you one of the happiest days of my life. Words are not enough to explain how I feel. You have grown much too fast and too soon but you've left me with memories that seem like they were made only yesterday. If only you could see yourself through my eyes you will see the true meaning of awe, inspiration and pride. You are so loved beyond words that I will keep trying to show you all the love I know to give until the end of my days.
Happy Birthday, Chickie! I love you!
There is no mountain too high to climb. Show the world what you're made of and know that I'm always there keeping an eye on anyone who will try to stop you... I'm prepared to shoot a...
Mother... Ma... they are words that make your heart warm. We always look forward to seeing, meeting, chatting, trusting our secrets, and what not, to our mothers.
My mother is a woman of immense patience. I have seen her remain composed in the midst of chaos. She can see through people's tricks and guide us accordingly. She has taught me not to lose my cool but to make my point unambiguous. Though age has taken its toll on her, she still remains the silent spirited woman who is always ready to help me with the little strength she is left with. My gratitude cannot be expressed in words.
I love you Ma... thanks for grooming me into a strong woman.
It's almost Mother's Day! Children look forward to this day to treat their moms for the mother that they have been to them. Each family is different in their ways. Some are extravagant and go all out while others quietly celebrate. Some significant others honor the mothers they know or share their lives with. Some solemnly think of the mothers they wish they had or those no longer with them and are missed.
I'm looking forward to see the movie Snatched, a comedy with Amy Schumer and Goldie Hawn. This should be fun!
Think about your mother for a moment. WHAT IS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING YOUR MOM HAS TAUGHT YOU? Write an open letter and tag it 'movies' and 'mom'.
Looking for a good book to read? I stumbled upon PLEASE LOOK AFTER MOM by Kyung-Sook Shin. When I saw this title again, my heart stopped. I do not remember the story but I was suddenly hit by an overwhelming urge to cry in the middle of the musty library. I choked slightly and wondered why I felt this way. I have no recollection of this book at all but I found the audiobook in my personal library. This means I have the print somewhere in the boxes I never unpacked since I moved. Apprehensive that it struck me so powerfully before that I put the thought of it away, I'm compelled to revisit the pages.
Because Mother's Day is around the corner, the wheels are turning...
Food for thought:
Letter to the Lost
By Brigid Kemmerer
Juliet's way of coping was leaving letters to her mother at her grave. During his court-ordered community service at the local cemetery, Declan found one of the haunting letters and could not resist writing back. Soon enough this opening to a stranger connected them...
Tell us what writing a letter means to you? Use the tag 'goodreads' and 'wiw'.
Dear Lady Lettrist,
"I sneak a look.
her eyes bright with
the remainder of the
we've got all the luck
*from the blue book p. 90
thinking of you,
Dear Lady Lettrist,
Wish you a very nice day:)
A hearty thanks to you for your impression on all my letters...... I am really very grateful to you:)
With great pleasure,
Dear Lady Lettrist,
Thank you so much! I appreciate your respectfulness.
Anything I write as post to public, I consider "fair game." I'm open about my experiences to help destigmatize issues around mental illness and to, hopefully, let others know that they're not alone.
🌼Dear Lady Lettrist, 🌼
Just dropping you a little note to tell you how much I appreciate your presence here on the lettrs app. It's not easy to go through and create prompts and consistently read through all of the letters but you do it and you always leave something genuine behind with your comments. It motivates us more than you know. Your work is definitely not in vein. Thanks for consistently showing everyone such kind support. You're a 🌟 :)
To silence yourself because your voice hurts another is an act of love that not everyone can do.
That is the ultimate sacrifice some people have to make because sometimes some things are better left unsaid.
People expect praise
and appreciation without knowing how to give and reciprocate.
People expect to be rewarded without knowing how to acknowledge.
It is quite taxing to be surrounded by such. At the end of my day, when I haven't been acknowledged, praised nor appreciated knowing I tried is truly enough.
If it was up to me I'd like to speak softly. Over the years I've come to realize that speaking in a manner I want to be spoken to is often ignored or dismissed.
People wonder why some people scream. I've realized that when I find myself raising my voice unnecessarily it's because the many times I've spoken softly, I was not heard.
It's strange that some people hear me well when I whisper, some cannot hear me unless I yell and others hear words I never said.
I'm fascinated by the image I seem to project to different people. They don't come close to who I really am.
I am layers and layers of lives lived that I may or may not have shared with anyone. I write letters about my life, my reality and the world I create so I can live in it.
I write to read the thoughts I didn't think I have. I write to hear my voice without bias. I write only for an audience who understands me --- I write for myself and it truly fascinates me to see how I am a reflection of how others see themselves.
I offend people with the things that are important to me. I hurt their feelings when I express myself in words they've never heard me say. It never occurs to them that until now it may not have bothered me or I simply have changed how I feel. I seem to be held to a certain idea of me that they prefer.
People change and often those affected by my change take it too personally. It doesn't occur to them that it may not be about them. I may want something new.
People are ill-informed about some things. I do not need or seek their approval to be someone different than what they're accustomed to. I am under no obligation to be the same person I was 5 minutes ago and I owe nobody an explanation. ...
Sundays are for reflection.
Silence is golden. I've noticed that I can be quiet for days. I get absorbed with the peace that comes with silence. I can hear my heartbeat and it reminds me to be grateful I'm alive. Thoughts I may have put aside surface and I see them better. I can pick through all that I've stored in my head and discard what I don't need making room for better thoughts.
My father has always instilled the value of words and therefore should not be wasted. Often I notice that silence is not everyone's best companion. Some people find it necessary to talk incessantly subjecting others to discomfort and downright torment . I do not do well in situations like that. I usually am "...
Dear Lady Lettrist,
Your letter has brightened up my day.
I'm sharing a virtual cup of tea with you, with the broadest of my smiles.