This snippet of text originally came to life somewhere within the world of Reddit! A man, concerned about his girlfriend’s mental health reached out to the community for guidance.
Every one offered different advice based on their interpretation of this woman. Somewhere in his words (about 2,000 of them-poor guy), it became clear (to me, anyway), that her struggle was hardly related to deteriorating mental health.
The spiritual health of a person is so often overlooked. In my opinion, his girlfriend lost sight of her authentic self and purpose.
Which got me thinking… most of the other responders told him she was “losing that loving” feeling. The suggested he be more romantic, attentive, and helpful to her needs.
To me, I say hogwash!
Love, romance and everything else along the way, will never override the human spirit, and the innate desire to be needed, fulfilled, and, at peace.
Sometimes I wonder…. I can’t understand it, and I’ve said it before— I’m the hardest working broke chick I know. On the flip side-poverty has taught me: website design, visual design, content marketing, networking, WAY more about how GOOGLE operates than I should know, WAY more about nerdy shit then I should know, how to be a pimp and annoy everyone, how to properly index a site, how to rank a blog, how to beat F’book at their own game (just kidding, just kidding, don’t cyber-slap me Zuckerburg), how to spam like the brilliant Nigerian, and finally, patience. <—-oh wait, that’s the medication, not poverty.
Not sure if I’d rather have had knowledge or money to pay someone else to do all this…. I’ll let you know the verdict when I’m living large as a “Thousandaire” —-
Well played Facebook, and the geniuses who run the marketing department. This advertisement just showed up in my News Feed. Ironic? Hardly. I’ve spent the last few days creating blogs like a machine (no kids this weekend!), and what-do-ya-know? The crickets are back, and my posts are going unnoticed.
Wait Until Christmas Eve to Post My Next Masterpiece.
Right? I mean, it’s only the last week of summer. I can’t be the only loser protecting my skin from cancer by parking it on the couch. Right?
Keep scrolling…I’d like to answer Facebook’s question….
Dear Marketing Stalkers at Facebook,
Thanks for the cool ad today. You’ve obviously been paying close attention to my blog. Whoot! Whoot! It looks like I’m not the only one working today either–the robots are still clocked in. Boo!
To answer your question:
FACEBOOK: “Tired of Writing Great Articles that Nobody Reads?”
LOSER BLOGGER: “No! I’m not tired of creating hilarious blog posts for my MOM to read. She’s a HUGE fan. Personally, I think I’ll just grab a piece of scented stationary and a pen for the next blog. I’ll whip up some fancy paragraphs full of calligraphy and send the post directly to her mail box. It’ll be cool.”
Over the course of my history on Facebook, I have shared everything about my life. Here is one from the archives that has put a little pressure on me. In 2009, I had a goal— Oops! I had 4 years and 364 days to accomplish it but like always, I’ve procrastinated. 100 days to go….
A documentation of healing, humor and perspectives that define people
Walkabout was a term coined by the Australian Aborigines. It was a reference to a spiritual journey. Many Aborigines sought out spiritual teachings in the landscape of their land and home as a way of finding a “Sacred Belongingness“.
My dad, who thought he pioneered the term, used it to round up his buddies in an attempt to walk “about” the town looking for fun. Today my family and I use the term as a reference to walking “about” the town in search of people, places and things that are important to us as community members.
A few days after Christmas in 2007, my dad passed away suddenly in his home.
He lived in Patterson for 55 years: was an active member of the community and the owner of Patterson Glass. He spent his lunch hours watching The Andy Griffith Show and his evenings laughing with SpongeBob Squarepants.
Although he dreamed of living on the beach he knew Patterson was home and he loved it.
After spending some time in Patterson, my eagerness to explore the outside world took over and I parted ways from his community and didn’t return until after his death.
I chose a walkabout that led me straight back to the landscape I had originated from.
So, I began my journey of the walkabout. A rather simple one that solely consisted of walking.
I walked every morning and most afternoons; eager to meet the community; eager to talk to anyone that would listen and eager to embrace and be embraced. It became a ritual of getting to know the people, the places and landscape of the town in an attempt to feel a sense of belonging. As it turned out the city I despised a decade ago would come to surprise me in many ways.
As I walked, I began to make peace. Peace with my dad, peace with the community and peace with the people. And, with peace came confidence; and with confidence came ambition; and with ambition came life and excitement.
The overall pleasantness of the community not only surprised me but also gave me hope.
Family and the pursuit of togetherness and belongingness are essential aspects of life to those who reside here.
I’m brutally honest to a fault. Too much info, I know but it was most definitely a great summer, according to the archives anyway. Those days were the good ol’ days to me. Facebook and swimming—back before I decided to follow a dream and become a writer. The summer of 2014 eluded me and my pale legs are proof. On the flip side—I’ve learned how to build a website (somewhat), kick it with my cyber-homies, and am a badass stalker on every social networking platform.