Lethal mind protection

This meme wins the internets today. Hands down. 

Yeah, hands down, just like the hands of too many US Senators are down in their pockets rather than over their hearts. 

My hand has repeatedly been covering my mouth or covering my heart this last week while visiting the Internets. Moments of shock and sadness at what idiotic things people will write, share and post in the name of "safety" and "protection".

As blatantly bluntly overtly obvious as a statement I can make ::: anything which has a purpose of killing ... Is Not Safe.:::

Nor does it provide any measurable amount of "safety".... And what is it you truly need protection from??? What these things do provide is a means with which to kill, mame and do serious harm to other living beings. If those are ideas that make you feel safe - you know, death, blood, trauma.... Then you probably score pretty well on a psychosis exam and SHOULD NOT have access to anything that will allow you to enact your backward, pained reality on the world. 

Aberator our ... And Awaiting the time when Americans stop blasting about our oxy-moronic views and start using reason, logic and above all that.. Love, to find the best definitions of Safety. 

This fog of fear

Today's headlines : deadliest mass shooting in U.S. History. This statement alone makes it clear we have a history filled with shooting deaths and violence.

I have shot a gun (ok, a rifle) exactly once in my life. I was doing it for a boy who wanted to share that part of his life with me. I was utterly unimpressed by the entire experience. What was the point? I could think of so many other powerful things in this world - man made or God given, that provide more thrill. But about the power part.... 

Almost nine years ago I became a parent. 

A PARENT. 

Every choice I make, every conversation and interaction I have with my offspring is, in my estimation, the MOST POWERFUL thing I possess. My child has this whole big wide world to take on and learn about. Every reaction I have, every laugh, every tearI shed makes  up a major portion of how she will view the world. 

This world is a foggy place. Between all the gunsmoke, opinions and yelling out there - how do we even see our loved ones clearly, let alone the world at large? And if we are having any kind of trouble seeing the world clearly - is the world even remotely seeing us clearly either? If I'm not being seen or heard will I feel comfortable? No, probably not. If I'm not loved, will I be able to love others? No, probably not. If there is no love, what do you have left? Fear. Fear and confusion. I don't know about you, but there's no two emotions I'd rather feel LESS than fear or confusion. 

So with the power vested in me by the Good Lord upon blessing me with my child - tonight before bed I explained to her what happened in Orlando. And I talked to her about how many children have died this year alone from gun violence. And my sweet, 8 years young child - she contributed her own thoughts about how she thinks only really healthy people who should be trained to hunt for food could have guns - and the government should be able to make programs for only those things. 

This is only the tip of the iceberg folks. 

Bottom line - Knowlege is Power. Ignorance begets Fear. 

Don't allow ignorance to grow. 

With the power of our collective Knowlege, action can come and the fog can clear. 

Day by day, Use your powers for Love. 

Obesity Squad

Everyone has bullies in their lives. Skeletons in the closet. Fears that haunt. Lies that deceive.
For the past 6 plus years, my greatest protagonist has been Obesity. Yes, that bitch and her largeness. As the years have gone on, Obesity has brought her crew of bitches into my world and made me reckon with her squad over and over.
Those bitches, well the come in all shapes, sizes and each have strengths of their own.
At first we met Depression and boy did we dip all the way into her deep blue eyes. They are like waterfalls of crystal meth man. Do.not.dive.in there.
Not far behind the meth induced depressive state, here comes disease to back her up. Disease in this current Obesity Squad goes by the name of. This bitch will make you reconsider your pain tolerance.
To the right of our main girl Obesity hangs a duo we can call the Inflammatory Story.  More specifically they are IBD, and HIT  - these ladies tie you to the front of the train and pull in and out of frustration station over and over.

How do you fight a bully? Kick and scream? Strategize and work smarter? Hide and hope they give up on you?
There as so many Goliath challenges in this life, and only you can know what your inner David is going to do.

What would the Aberator do? Current status: staring down every bitch in this squad and standing firm in my belief that knowledge is not true power - but action with purpose will always come out the victor in the end - no matter the length of battle

Mothering

My greatest accomplishment in my life time will, no doubt, be my ART. She is the reason I keep on keepin on, and the source of my simplest pleasures and joy.
I'm pretty (hashtag) blessed that she puts up with the volume at which music gets played in my car - and some of the time even comes away admitting love for the music she heard.
A few weeks ago she told me she'd been humming this song and hearing it in her head through out her school day.

(ack! deep!)
Today on Mother's day, we sang to each other in the car "Who am I if I'm the person you become... if I'm still growin up". And I begged her, and then implored her some more to understand that she needs to keep her heart right there as much as possible. Question it all, never grow up. If you stop growing up - you become that person -- but you don't have to be that person, because life is full of opportunity to keep learning, keep growing and keep striving to be who you are. No matter how old. Keep growing up, up, up.

(hashtag) blessed, (hashtag) superblessed, (hashtag) ART4Ever, (hashtag) MotherhoodWins

300 meters

Today marked three years since I received my county clerk signed and stamped divorce documents in the mail. I remember that jubilant first half hour home after work like it was yesterday. I felt 10 years younger and 10 years older all at once.

Today marked the 7th day straight I went to the gym and exercised for at least 45 minutes.

Six weeks ago I switched gym memberships, marking my 4th time as a card carrying, barcode scanning member of a fitness corporation. The first time, I lost way more money than any 23 year old should and gained very little stamina or confidence. The second time, I felt like a rockstar for about two weeks, taking advantage of a best price type deal - and then I went to the gym exactly 0 times for the rest of that deal period. Third time, I felt good, I found a mix of music that got me going, I felt strong... but I felt trapped in a single mom, nothing works for my schedule corner. No bueno. But third time being some kind of charm - I found the motivation to aberate - I needed a solution to push the noise back and make something important work.

I found that solution. And in the process I found myself all signed on to meet with a personal trainer once a week. An actual "Fitness Professional" to push, pull, and motivate me. I walked in there and said, yeah I have all these things I could call motivation, but let's face it, in the end I have needs - a need to feel strong and not question it, a need to lose actual lbs and gain overall health, and a need to be Beyonce when I grow up.

Beyonce wasn't built in a day. I saw that catchphrase on the internets recently and reacted with a Yaaasss and a high five to the imaginary angels. And you know what? Beyonce wasn't built in a month either. I've been working with the personal trainer for a month now. And I've lost exactly Zero lbs. Zero.
Beyonce doesn't count her haters - she doesn't need to - she's Beyonce.
I'm the Aberator and I like a challenge.

I got hit with the 300 meter challenge tonight. My trainer doesn't talk to me about the lbs number - he talks to me about upping my work and making new numbers. I've got (nearly) 99 lbs of haters on me, but this werk ain't concerned with any one of them. And so tonight I found myself saying outloud- Yes, Yes I want that rowing machine and I want more on my pull day, add in a challenge. First time, ever on a a rowing machine and I pulled 300 meters in 2:38. My trainer noted how impressed he consistently is by the power contained in a female's legs. (good guy..) And I thought - 300 meters? I'm gonna own this bitch.

Three years after I felt so accomplished and like I had a new lease on life - I've found the actual key to the feeling younger part.
Find yourself 300 meters, find it, own it and crush every second of those 300 meters. Build your inner Beyonce and slay.

Call of the heart

Few things lift my heart like good meaningful music.
And baseball. Yeah it has been known to lift my heart - let's face it ..... it's so hard not to be romantic about baseball.

My heart pumps only blue and orange blood  - but I can't front - every time Macklemore's song My Oh My comes up on my Pandora work out station - I get chills and and a simple, beam of joy creeps across my face. Like Nick Jonas himself walked up next to my tread mill and sang to me ... uhhmm, yeah, back to baseball.
BASEBALL.  I get that same simple and pure joy feeling when I step through the turnstiles at Citi Field.
And to play right on the moment at the heart of the song (the broadcaster Dave Niehaus's 'My Oh My' call at the moment the Mariner's won the champsionhip) - I get that same lift in my heart when I hear Howie Rose's call "This One Has a Chance!", which he, "the voice of the Mets" belted out when Mike Piazza belted the home run that lifted the hearts of so many New Yorkers in that first game played after 9/11.  And I get that same warm fuzzy feeling in my heart when I hear Gary Cohen's call from the division clincher game last season "Tears of Joy for the 2015 New York Mets!!" -first heard while I was literally crying actual tears of joy, jumping around my living room pumping my fist in the air.
My oh My.
I can't think of what the world would ever be like with out the voices behind the calls of the heart for Mets fans like myself - but everytime I hear this Macklemore tribute to Dave Niehaus and the heart connecting moment M's fans surely hold dear to - I can't help but dig in and visit the corners and stitching in my own heart.

Back to Aberatin

Alright stop. Aberate and listen. Abs is back with some brand new missions.

I'm in the midst of a real resurgence here. When I told the trainer at the gym to name my work out 'Aberator's Fit', I knew I had begun to peek out from behind the curtain. You see, this life is full of intermissions - that time where you pick up your smartphone, zone in and forget you are in a public arena and that you came here for a show. The entertainment aspect fades to fuzz level gray, and the noise quiets around you. You are in intermission.
While it is ever a transient show, when the curtains move - and you steady your eyes on the show once again - it fills your mind, steadies your pace, steels your resolve and propels you into the zone where the show is everything.
Operation Aberate has returned from intermission. Submissions to follow.