Facing the Darkness: Preview

Have you ever felt as though you just might be slipping back into an abyss you had already been freed from?

I've heard that God designed our brains to be able to shut out cruel and unjust events that were once a part of a persons existence, just so they could see their future as a brighter hope. I've also seen the quote that floats around Facebook, from time-to-time, as well. It says, "Never look back, you're not going that way."
Ummm...not sure I agree with that.The not looking back part. Maybe that quote would be better served up as, "Don't LIVE in the past. Step into the future." Maybe the quote was meant as, "Never look back (so as to DESIRE it), you're not going that way." That would make better sense.

However, when we remember from whence we came, as we are stepping into the light and becoming who we were designed to be, we can straighten ourselves a bit better. It's because of those dark days that our aim can swing more true, and our hearts become so full of gratitude for the place we find ourselves to be now. I think it may be healthy (in some aspects), to never forget, and on occasion, look back at the days we have allowed to be stolen from us. We just can't stay there long. 

I don't lay blame on anyone for the days I spent in the darkened abyss. I blame only myself, for it was of my own free will that I landed there. Naivety helped get me there, but it was I who chose to remain. Only because I believed a lie. And when I had gotten to the end of myself, where I could no longer breathe, I called out to the God who rescues, "Please don't leave me now."

All I can say is that it was  an amazing morning (early afternoon), for me. I worked nights, until 2 AM, during that time in my life, so many, many years ago. My "mornings" were actually early afternoons. I was sitting on a much too expensive couch that had been purchased with the money I made at Roger Miller's King of the Road Hotel, where I was employed. Working the lounge of the Roof (the actual enclosed with windows, roof of the building and quite beautiful), it wasn't uncommon for me to bring home a bag full of tips. A rather large bag. When you serve those who lose all common sense, while enjoying the music of the rich & famous artists, and ordering one right after the other of those mind altering spirits, it's rather easy to get them to leave a wad of cash...just for you. So, money wasn't an issue for me in those days. But, I wasn't quite the person I was designed to be, either.

Along my journey, I had purchased a Family Bible. Ah...I knew it, you say? Nah. The only reason of purchase (at least in my darkened brain) was because it was pure white, and trimmed in gold. It would look awesome on my glass coffee table, with its gold knobbed corners. Don't gag. It was the early 70's and glass with gold trim was very "in". My apartment was laid out where I had to go through the living room to get to the kitchen. I did eat, on occasion. 

I was miserable that morning (early afternoon). Sick of who I had become. I had literally just sat up in bed, looked into the large vanity mirror, and the first thing coming from my lips was, "I hate you!" As I dragged myself out of bed and past the coffee table with "the Book", I stopped. It was time to see what the inside of that book looked like. I just slipped my fingers into the book and flipped it open. Right smack dab into Isaiah 59. The first 3 verses leaped into my mind, as if an arrow had been waiting to find its mark. Out of that HUGE Bible, it was these verses that I "accidentally" turned to. 

Isaiah 59:1-3: "Surely the arm of the Lord is not too short to save, nor His ear too dull to hear. But your iniquities have separated you from your God; your sins have hidden His face from you, so that He will not hear. For your hands are stained with blood, your fingers with guilt. Your lips have spoken lies, and your tongue has muttered wicked things." Tears began to roll down my cheeks as I sat alone with the God who saves. The God who knew me. My heart responded with, "Please don't leave me now." My eyes and my mind were very attentive to what they had just read. I could have sworn I heard His voice in that empty-of-life, room. I was fully awake now, and there was an instant need to flip past those pages that exposed what I had become. Let me stop for just a second here, to let you know it's not that easy to run when God is speaking into your heart. Try as we might, we won't get far. We may run, but we can't hide. That next random flip of the pages, landed at Isaiah 1:18. "Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord. Though your sins be like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool." What in the world?! It's as though someone knew me from the inside out. And that's all I could handle that particular afternoon. My heart was racing, as the tears flowed from my eyes. The book closed as the last 3 years flooded from the dark recesses of my mind and memories came oozing out as I sat and cried on what money had purchased for me, but could not give what I needed. The love I was looking for wasn't to be found where I was looking. Wasn't it the most ironic thing that God used the thief, the guy I was "doing life" with, to tell me what a nice look it would be for that large white Bible to have a place on my coffee table? Don't you see? God rescues us, no matter what avenue He must take to do it. He uses whomever is available even when they don't realize they are being used by God for a higher purpose. He simply meets us where we are. Somewhere in the darkness.

Let's take a short look back, before the day God grabbed my attention. One of the beginning wake-up calls came as I was sitting across the table from one of my friends. It was during an early breakfast, after work. It was 3 AM, and Faith (ironic name for this friend), who just happened to be one of the foulest mouthed gals I had ever ran into, was about to speak into my life. We were sitting across from each other, at a local Denny's restaurant. I couldn't tell you what we were talking about. I don't remember that. The thing that found a lodging place in my mind, was what she responded with. As she leaned back and laughed, she said, "Wow! You have got the foulest mouth of anyone I have ever known." I couldn't believe my ears. I was truly taken aback. Shocked, actually. I had thought SHE had the foulest of foul mouths. And to have her say that about ME, shook my world. But it would take more than that to pull me back. To get me to take a good hard look at myself.

I had been raised in a Christian home, that had imperfect people living as Godly a life as they could. Lots of rules. Lots of discipline. Lots of work. None of which should be declared bad. Some pretty awesome people came from that home. We weren't without fault, or without strongholds that would eventually need addressed in our later years. But, it was our life, and the goal was one of raising young lives to grow into responsible citizens. I think Mom & Dad succeeded. A few of us strayed (ya think?) from the straight and narrow, but, we all came back to it. Eventually. And we were all very responsible individuals that carried our own weight and the weight of others, in many cases. We worked together, we played (when there was time) together, we went to church together. Yet, we all needed rescued at some point in our lives, simply because humanity does not understand the way of true love, until they meet the One who gave up His rights to himself to show us the meaning of real love. He's a personal God that knows us from the inside out. Can you agree?

So...back to my beginning question. "Have you ever felt as though you just might be slipping back into an abyss you had already been freed from"? It's so easy to make declarations of the knowledge of Christ, the commitments we have made to Him, only to have it become a new form of Gnosticism, which claims that special knowledge is the way to God. However, true love is the only evidence that one is following Christ. When someone is unkind, someone who is suppose to be holding your heart as if Christ were holding it, uses words to pierce that heart, strong feelings of dislike for that person arises. Possibly even hate. Yeah, that's a strong word. But it causes a storm to gather overhead, yes? Now you must deal with what seems like a wicked and evil force that has laughed in your face. 

We are imperfect people that must aright ourselves from time to time. What we need ask ourselves is this: Am I arguing doctrine and heresies while pointing fingers at sinners? Am I living in fear of loss, condemnation, darkness? Am I sharing my love with only those who love me in return? Do I constantly defend myself from those who judge me? 

Here is what Paul says about love: "...love does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, is not easily angered, and holds no record of wrong." ~I Corinthians 13:5    Wow...that takes a minute or two (or an eternity) to think about.

We all want to enter that room that holds all these truths, but when we do, we have to leave all that we treasure behind. All our rights to ourselves. Be honest. Isn't that all it comes down to? Demanding our rights to ourselves. Demanding love where none is given? Taking care of number 1? Well, we can't be in both rooms at the same time, in the same way that darkness cannot be in light, in the same way that fear cannot be in love. We cannot serve two masters at the same time.

I think I've given us enough to chew on for awhile. The abyss awaits those who choose it. So does freedom...

It's sticky. It's Murky. It's frightening, to go back and relive in our minds what was. But sometimes it's necessary. Just to remind ourselves we aren't the same person we used to be. That alone makes it so much easier for me to "hold no record of wrong", simply because there is no darkness in light. Once truth has been revealed, forgiveness becomes truth. 

Want more of my story back from the darkness? It was a long journey. Many stories to tell. Not sure if I can, actually. 

Still, I'll try, here...in Mary's World.

Crazy Dreams...Or Are They?

The morning was about to present itself to me as I lay sleeping. The suddenness with which I awoke, told me I had just encountered a terrifying event. I had gone to a very large building, a high-rise, where my sister, Becky, was an employee. She was one of the administrators and was held in high esteem. She was dressed the part, as well. One would know right from the start that she was the one in charge.

We were up high...not sure which floor, but I'm guessing, from the looks of it, we were at least several stories up. The landing we were on, was open space with no railing to keep anyone from plummeting to their certain death. Becky walked quietly over to the edge, as if she were in deep thought about something. I didn't like her so close to the edge of the landing, so I went over to ask her to move back a bit. As soon as I got there, I spoke her name, and was about to touch her arm, when she whirled around, as if startled. As she turned, one of her feet slipped off the ledge and she fell....

I heard myself screaming for help. "Call 911!" I screamed, my heart racing, as I ran down the spiral staircase to where she had landed. It seemed forever before I could reach her. As I ran, I saw a man come up to where she was thrashing on the floor. She was saying, "Someone help me. Please help me." One of her legs was bent back, and her whole body was convulsing. The young man gathered her in his arms and tossed her body up into the air, causing it to rotate full circle, before falling into his arms. The convulsing stopped. All was well. No more pain. No more fear.

That was the end of the dream. I have lived 73 years, and from the age of 25 years, I have had spiritual dreams. I learned how to recognize those dreams, and the "mean nothing" dreams. The spiritual dreams are ALWAYS short. And I never forget them. They stick with me. The mean nothing dreams are usually very long and jump from place to place. This was a spiritual dream. But, what does it mean? 

My sister was a prisoner inside her own body. PSP had taken its grip on her. The commands came from her mind to her body, but the body refused to respond to those commands. She was rendered lifeless, yet alive. 

Why I needed the dream to assure me she was well, I don't know. Somethings, we will never understand, until we, too, go back home. The place from whence we came, the Father's home. For this dream, I believe I was shown the beauty of belonging to Him. All it takes to escape our own prison, is a simple reliance upon Him. He will make all things beautiful in His time, and it was His time for her complete healing as she entered the rest she so desperately needed from the difficulties of this earthly life. And now? She is more alive than she ever could be, here.

Continuing my journey here, this is where you'll find me...here, in Mary's World.

But First, Coffee

After 26 hours of sleep, with only a possible collective 2 hours of semi-alertness, I am finally fully awake. I think. It is now 11:10 PM, on a Saturday night.

I had arisen early this Saturday morning with full intentions of getting my study cleared of all non-essentials, once and for all. It was going to take most, if not all, of the day.

But first, breakfast...and coffee.

It wasn't long after, that I knew not much was going to transpire in the way of productiveness on this beautiful day. My body was dragging, my head pounding, my throat aching, my energy lacking. Back to bed I should go. The study could wait. Again...

WHY??? Why am I so lack luster? Why can't I seem to get my energy level back up? Is this the way it's going to be in quarantine? Oh no...you are wrong! I have tried to push myself. I have tried "making" myself just "dig in and get busy". My body rebels. So, it's back to bed I go...

What you just read was typed out 3 days ago. I have no idea what was happening, but I had not felt on top of my game, so-to-speak, for a couple of weeks. At first, I thought, "Ummmm...do I have COVID-19? But, my wiser self came through and realized since there was no fever present, it most likely was just the results of mental concern over being mandated to close the salon (for SIX weeks), and the fact it was now pollen season...with curtains of green falling all around our house, our cars, the back porch, EVERYWHERE!

I am feeling much better today. Still dealing with a bit of allergy issues, but have energy, at last!!! There is still a little work I need to do in the study, but most things have been put where they belong (in the study, at least). So much needs to be tackled while I have this time away from the salon. I could talk about the closets in this house. But I won't. Ugh!!! They are next on my list. When I feel like it. Mentally, feel like it. Have you ever known there are things waiting to be addressed, but you just don't have the fortitude to address them? That's me, at the moment.

I have wanted to sit at my computer, for months, now. I'll walk by the study, glance in, and say, "I'll get to you eventually." Just for eventually to never come. Now that eventually seems to have shown itself, I'm not really sure why I am taking this valuable time to just sit and type out random thoughts. But I'm loving it...

As I glance out the window, only the US flag, perched on the front wall of our porch, is moving. Whipping around, as if in battle. The Spring flowers are showing their beauty, the grass is greening up, and all is still. Everything is still. Eerily still. Few are actually going to work these days. Most are sticking close to home, hoping to avoid the fearless COVID-19 virus that seems to have blanketed our nation, along with all the tree pollen. Only this virus is unseen, unlike the lime green pollen. It's creepy. It's dangerous. It will attach itself to you without you even realizing it. And then it begins to choke you, until you can barely breath. How does one loosen the grip of an unseen enemy?

God gives wisdom to those who ask. I do believe our nation, divided as it may be, is praying. Asking God for His wisdom on how to fight this. Our light at the end of the tunnel? That would be our scientists, whom God has given the ability, the desire, the intellect, to find a path of safety. And eventually destroy this unseen virus with antidotes, with immunization, with dependance upon the only One who cures our diseases.

Where can one find hope in all the uncertain foreseeable future? Watch closely, as neighbors begin to walk past your house, while staying 6 feet apart, but walking in sync with each other. Listen closely, as the birds sing their forever songs, filling the atmosphere with beauty. Breathe in deeply the scents of Spring that linger long after you go inside. Taste the flavor of home cooked meals, after they've sizzled on the grill, or in the oven. Feel the gentle breezes, as they play with your hair and wrap your skin in soothing touches. Revel in the laughter of your children, as they play around your feet, begging you to join in.

As I sit here, considering all the beauty of the world, I am still, and forever will be, curious. WHY is there never any toilet paper, paper towels, or Kleenex to be found on ANY stores shelves???!!! Ugh! Where's my coffee?

Staying hopeful, here you'll find me...in Mary's World

My Therapist

"...for such is the kingdom of heaven." ~Matthew 19:14

Our 3 year old granddaughter, Reagan, shows me the kingdom of heaven, on a daily basis. Well, the days I am given with her, at least. And I'm pretty sure her parents have noticed this as well. I'm really not surprised. We raised 2 children of our own, and many were the days I felt God speak to me, using their little voices. I always knew He was telling me He understands and "hey...here's how that works if you want a great outcome."

Toddlers are really perceptive little beings. I think it's because they are still experiencing memories of where they came from (and here is where I may lose a few of you).

"Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you." ~Jeremiah 1:5  Before we were in our mother's womb! True, He was speaking to Jeremiah, one who was predestined to be a prophet to the nations. Yet, I so totally believe that even though we are not all prophets, we all were known before the foundation of the world became reality. So...we came from Him, in a much deeper reality. And at some point we will all return to Him. Some to give an account, others to enter into their rest. Okaaayyyy...getting off on a rabbit trail.

A few days ago, Reagan and I were playing with plastic Easter egg shells. She loves dinosaurs and was trying to force a really small one into one of the eggs, as a "surprise" for Grams. She was focused. She was determined. And here is what I noticed. She encourages herself.

"Come on, Reagan...you can do this!" she said. Wow! 3 Years old. Innocence at its peak. She believes in herself. Please, God...help us not damage that belief!!! On another day, while kicking a ball out in our front yard, the wind kept whipping it to the left of where I was aiming for it to go (toward her) so she might give a return kick. She just stopped everything, came over to me, placed her little hand on my arm and said, "Don't give up, Grams. You can do this." WHAT?! Sooooo much wisdom coming from this little person.

By-the-way. The kingdom of heaven is not a physical place. What?! Romans 14:17 tells us that the kingdom of heaven is not a place where one eats and drinks, but is a spiritual realm over which God reigns as King, or the fulfillment on Earth of God's will. That being, righteousness (right living), peace (calmness the world doesn't understand), and joy (an abiding state of being), while living on this planet. "I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one". ~John 17:15

As I ponder years gone by, I can see areas where I stopped trusting. Stopped believing in myself as an overcomer, and began to let situations define me. As the years flew past, sometimes raging as they swept by, I stopped listening to the nurturing spirit God placed within me. The "I can do anything," spirit that was a part of who I was. It soon became a fight, or flight, thing for me. And then a, "just put one foot in front of the other," thing. Then a feeling of being much like a cork, just bobbing along, out in the vastness of an engulfing sea. I began to put aside the place of strength and swapped it for whisperings of ineffectiveness. Of unimportance. I really took a wrong turn and followed the path that was overgrown with despair, sadness, alone feelings, and self centeredness. All the while knowing this would not turn out good. It was much like being focused on healthy eating, then deciding to throw it all out the window and begin eating things that would eventually destroy your health. Knowing there was no possible good outcome.

And then Reagan shows up on the scene. What an amazing gift God has given, not just to me, but to all who have the honor of being where she is. I'm listening again. I'm hearing the still, small voice, coming over loud and clear, coming straight from my little therapist. 

"You can do this!" "Don't give up!" 

 


Praying this mighty warrior spirit of Reagan's remains active throughout her life, and here I'll remain...in Mary's World.

A Child Shall Lead Them

Recently (within the last couple of weeks), our forward thinking granddaughter began interacting with the times I speak aloud to God. Especially at nap time. Since it appears this girl is going to be a tenacious problem solver, she rarely is in the mood to take 5, or in nap time lingo, 60-120. So even prayer time can become long, as she attempts to solve the problems of nap time.

Auntie Lindsey stopped by to play

On one such occasion, after going through the rituals of book reading, dancing to music as stars and moon danced along on the ceiling, and asking Grams to "be" one (or another) toy she plays with, it was past time to lay down and quiet ourselves. Easier said than done...

She needed to "tell me something", or "I need a hug", or "I love you...hold me", or "I not ready." Some days she just starts talking about anything and everything. I'm sure there's a story she's trying to lay out for me, or maybe it's yet another ploy to keep those big, beautiful blue eyes of hers, open. On that day, I caved. There was just too much cuteness happening, and I found myself laughing uncontrollably (inside...as my body shook). She felt it, and began laughing, and laughing, and laughing. I figured I had just eliminated nap time, so in the spirit of "I need to win this game", I lifted myself off the floor where I knelt beside her bed. Stood up, and lifted her as tiny arms flew around my neck and strong legs wrapped around my waist. She was there to stay. At least for a bit. We talked. We laughed. We made up stuff that only the other world knows. I'm pretty sure there was laughter happening in Heaven that particular day as the angles watched a little girl giving so much joy to one who used to be a little girl. A very long time ago.

But...it was time to seek instruction from a higher power. "God," I began. "What would you suggest I do with this treasure you have placed in my arms? How would you have me relax her enough to get her quieted and ready for sweet dreams?" On the heels of my prayer, her little voice reached out as her head tilted backward, with eyes looking upward. As she smiled at the ceiling, she said, "God, tell her to rub my legs. For a long time." And then she giggled. She is all of 2 years old.

Reasoning with Momma

That was a couple of weeks ago. NOW, she prays to Walter. Walter is one of her special Beat Bugs characters that is in the form of a soft plush toy she takes to bed with her. Always. Until just recently. That's another story.

Why she is calling upon the name of Walter is anybody's guess. I just say, "I pray to God. Not Walter." She then changes her prayer, and poor Walter has to take a back seat to God. She loves praying, however. I rarely have to remind her of who to pray for, anymore. She includes anyone she has ever come into contact with. I'm pretty sure Olivia (the little girl she met at Jump Street two days ago), will be in her next line of requests. It will be interesting to hear how she prays for Olivia. And, she never forgets to ask God to bless each family member at work, and usually ends her prayers with "I love you."

My prayer is that she never loses that child-like love for people. Even when she doesn't understand what is happening in her world, that she chooses to forgive. That we adults never squelch the pure, innocent spirit, that resides within her. That, like her mother, we always address her with a calmness...instead of yelling, thinking that is the only way to get her attention.

Until next time, here you will find me, listening for instructions from a child (or her mother)...here, in Mary's World.

P.S. I love my day job.

What Time Is It?

Cleaning up my iPhone, during the wee hours of this morning, I ran across a note to myself, that was more like a conversation with God, dated 2/28/2018.

It read: "Humanity is flawed. I am flawed. Remind myself to be patient and kind. Always use kind authority. Help me not to listen to the lies of the enemy of my soul that would tell me to retreat, hide, stop laughing, stop sharing. Help me to be present in a real, life-giving way."

And as a reference, I noted 1st Corinthians 13. Aha! The love chapter. There we find the true definition of love. You know, that word that is usually used as a verb and is loosely thrown around without much depth of meaning. No worries. This post is not about that since I've already laid out most of my anxious thoughts about love, in a previous post. This post is about that little voice (that occasionally becomes big), who stands guard in the deepest recesses of my mind, ready to shout, "RETREAT!"

I don't know why I felt it necessary to place this note on my phone, on that particular day. Evidently, something had stirred my anxiety levels to a high and there was a need to hold myself accountable. It's pretty amazing that as we look back, we can see God was orchestrating our life while in the middle of a potential demise. Even though we thought it was coming from our brilliance, our own wisdom, it was by design.

Aristotle once said, "There is only one way to avoid criticism: do nothing, say nothing, and be nothing." And Charles Swindoll, "Life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent of how I react to it."

Why do we need constant reminders to live life to it's fullest? Why? Are we seriously so distracted, so self-centered, that all we can see is 2 feet in front of our face? While we are asking, why do we feel attacked, so easily? Does it come from those years between the ages of birth to 5 years, when data comes at us like the speed of light and we absorb it all, so we might pull it all up from the archives of our mind when we become adults? Goodness, I hope not! Maybe it's just that we feel inferior, or less than, whoever is speaking to us. Is that it? Goodness, I hope not!

What time is it, anyway? How much longer do we have on this planet?
What is important enough to consume our days, weeks, months, & years? Is it even possible to always be kind? Is it even possible to love someone more than yourself? Where is that crazy invisible line we don't want to ever step over? Why aren't there flags that pop up in front of us when we are getting close to that line? Why?

Could it be that life is actually a training ground? Is it possible that someday we will realize we cannot control others, but only ourselves? And, seriously, how long should it take to grow up? I'm well beyond the "young adult" season. Some have said it takes at least 30 years for the brain to mature. My question, then, is why don't we see more mature 30 somethings? What is defined as maturity, anyway?

I think I'm going with Charles Swindoll's statement that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I respond. But that still doesn't answer the question of how long does it take to become mature, does it?

Here's a thought:
1. Don't be a bully
2. Avoid gossip, rumors, and talking about others behind their backs
3. Be the bigger person if someone is unkind to you
4. Keep an open mind. Your ideas are not the only ones available.
5. Have confidence in yourself
6. Be genuine
7. Accept personal responsibility

Watching the clock a little too much, here in Mary's World. That's where you'll find me...

The Invisible Line

"Better late, than never," is a well-known proverb. Some arrive late, but that's okay because at least they arrive. Right?

It seems an invisible line has been drawn that one crosses without realizing it, until the moment of truth slaps them in the face. So to speak. Within the last week, I have visited two separate (very separate), establishments. For the record, I was neither late nor early, to each of these places. I was right on time. My time.

Last night, I became fully aware (once again) of that elusive, invisible line, that one crosses as they travel life's roadways. Late, or otherwise. You know the one I speak of. It's that place of tranquility, instead of clamored chaos. It's the "would you please turn that music down a couple hundred notches," place. It's that "Sorry. What did you say?" place. Good grief. I couldn't even think of how to subtract a simple equation because the noise was sooooo LOUD in the place. To make matters worse, the girl at checkout had the voice volume equivalency to that of a mouse, while your "final experience" guy shouted (yes, shouted), your name when the order was ready. I'm pretty sure it was because that would be the only way one would ever come to the counter to pick up their order of the day.

Oh, don't get me wrong. Oblivion is a place I rarely allow myself to visit but have been known to take a trip or two, there. Truth be told, I have been accused of actually living in the fantasy world of explosive reality, obscured only by the untrained mind. Chew on THAT statement for awhile...

The Yang of last nights Yin experience, happened only last week. And, if you know anything about Yin and Yang, you'll totally understand my statement. Just let me say I'm not a bit surprised by the actual definition of Yin and Yang. "Two principles, one negative, dark, and FEMININE (yin...uh-huh), and one positive, bright, and MASCULINE (yang...go figure). Describes me and my husband, to a T!!! Yeah. I know. I'm pretty sure that was Eve's fault.

Anyway, my husband and I had decided to visit a new restaurant in Cary, just last week. It looked promising, as we walked into an atmosphere of visual tranquility. Not saying it was spa-like, but it was spa-like. Almost. From the moment we walked in until our heels lifted off the exit step, our 5 senses enjoyed a quiet dance that those who have crossed the invisible line from chaos to tranquility, understandably want to be. It wasn't boring. Just peaceful. A place in which one could breathe without the heart rate jumping through the roof, or having the need for Advil. A place where your Northern extremity didn't need to be held, but one could actually have a conversation with oneself...if need be.

These two establishments that both offer exciting dishes for the palate are almost total opposites. If I were Lady Justice, I do believe the scale would tip in favor of the spa. Yeah. It's that invisible line, and I don't like headaches. Clearly, they both have their targeted audiences. 

The moral to this story? Never despise the quiet places. Soon enough you'll be visiting them as well. THEN, you will understand that crazy invisible line was there for a reason. We can deny it's there, and try convincing ourselves we are still 30 years younger than what we actually are, as we vehemently proclaim, "BRING IT ON!" But...it's there regardless. Our brain knows it's there, it's just not "in your face" obvious. And one day, you too will step over it and really, really, love it!

One last thing. You will know if you've arrived on time, or if you're shamefully late. But, you WILL arrive. Vertically, or horizontally. (Did I just go morbid there?)

Ahhhh...living the life, here you'll find me. Here, in Mary's World.