Adieu

Life has a way of often showing us that our plans and dreams are actually implausible, leaving us feeling as wide-eyed, child-like idealists. Things don’t often go according to our plans. Possibly, there is Man in the heavens rearranging our fates and our stars’ alignment with one swift movement of His hand; as a chess player moves chess pieces across the board. Perhaps we are simply not privied to the masterful, big picture; only seeing from eye-level, not able to witness the aerial view.

It’s a memory that I stumble across from time to time: We stood there, bickering, once…as we so often did. Sometimes for the sheer pleasure of getting under the other’s skin. Someone, hearing us, asked “Were you together in a past life?” You shrugged sheepishly. I laughed. “Surely not.” How strange the concept was at that time. Now I often wonder: Was there always something familiar about you? The way your eyes lit up and crinkled when you smiled? Your deep, belly laughter? Or was it possibly something underlying, not nearly as evident, which drew me to you? Within me, you saw more than a mousy, shy girl. You knew my heart, my strength and my boldness before I had even become aware of it.

If I had it to do over again, I would choose you. As I’ve done time and time again. Having known you has enriched my life, altered me immeasurably, and bettered my soul.  Ten years of infuriating madness. Ten years of uncontrollable laughter. Ten years of unconditional, unstoppable love. There is not, nor would there ever be, a question of my choice. Undeniably, it would always be you. Again and again.

As this year has been filled with exasperating monotony, where it felt as if each day lingered on as its predecessor had. Looking back, it has been filled with significant changes. Our paths began veering from one another. The sand in our hourglass dwindled down, as time began to run out.

How does one begin to say goodbye? How does one back away? How do two people stop talking when they have become crucial fixtures in each other’s life? How does one cease to love someone painlessly?

I choose to not dwell in the pain or void of this life, but the hopefulness of the future. In another life, in another time, we will meet again. Perhaps then, the debt will have been paid; the Man in the heavens content; our stars will align; and our paths will again intertwine.

Until the next time.

I bid you adieu, Sweetheart.

---

Dated: December 30, 2015.

Parallel

Image found on flickr

Unceasingly Parallel.

Never perpendicular.

Lives never meeting.

Always almost.

The gap unconquerable.

Unceasing.

To go across would be like swimming against the current.

Alas, we’re set to always trod the same direction,

but down separate roads;

You and I.

Kipling once said:

"Oh, the East is the East,

And West is West,

And never the twain shall meet."

Is it really that far?

If I look closely, I can still see you.

Mischievous grin,

glistening eyes;

you see me too.

Heartbreaking.

Breathtaking.

I smile across the way,

you give a slight wave.

I guess this is how we will always be.

Always almost.

Lives never meeting.

Never perpendicular.

Unceasingly Parallel.

---

Dated: July 14, 2014.

T-Shirt

photo credit: ajaedmond.com

This piece was written August 16, 2014.  Hope you'll enjoy!

---

I smile at the very thought of it.  Like sunlight beaming in the kitchen window, making even the dust seem magical; or the smell of Dixies baking in the oven; or the feel of the water splash up on your legs as you walk along the beach.  The memories are warm, and affect the senses.

It was a simple shirt.  It made me smile.

I hadn’t thought that much about it.  It was a gift.  It has just been a t-shirt that reminded me of you.

Later, you told me it was your favorite.  And I smiled.

Even after you had worn it for a few years, you still loved it.  Holes had covered it by then, and she often asked you why you still wore it and why you wouldn’t throw it away.  You told her the same, that it was your favorite.

But then, after telling me that, you looked at me and smiled.  You leaned in and whispered, “It has holes all in it, but I still love it.  Because every time I wear it, I think of you.”

That memory fills me with sunshine on my dreariest day.  It brings warmth to my skin...warmth to my soul.  It was a stupid shirt, but it meant the world to you; and ultimately, it has meant the world to me.  

Nostalgia

Do you ever genuinely MISS characters from novels?  TV shows?  Movies?

That's where I've found myself this past weekend.  I have found myself desperately missing Tatiana and Alexander...fictional characters in Paullina Simons The Bronze Horseman series (An awesome series based around a couple in Leningrad, Russia during WWII).  The problem?  I do not know if I'm emotionally prepared to read that book again.  No lie, I read the first book in a matter of days...but in those few days I felt as I'd lived a whole life.  Their journey took me through so many emotions.  I just am not quite sure I am prepared to go through all that right now.

But...you know how a song can take you back to a certain time or a certain place in your life?

Reading has always been an escape for me, so sometimes books do that for me.

The year that I read that series...it was the dead of winter...  Which in Florida, translates to "cold and wet."  I remember being all bundled up under blankets, reading late into the night.  During that time, I was also coping with a broken heart, and having just been separated from someone that I cared about very deeply.

While I have been toying with the idea of re-reading that series, particularly the first book, my mind has wandered to that period of time in my life.  While it was a tough time, I wrote some of my very favorite pieces during that time.  So, I thought that I would share some of those with you this week.  I hope you will enjoy.

A quote from The Bronze Horseman. 

Push

I had considered writing this piece as more of a narrative, but then realized that I would not be doing justice to myself, my writing, or my story.

I was sexually assaulted at 23.  And if I'm honest, that wasn't the first time that happened to me.  The first time, I was well under 18.

And don’t you dare feel pity for me, because that is not the purpose of this blog. Do you see the number listed above? 1 in 6. One out of every six women will experience sexual violence in their lifetime. I am not alone in my struggle, I am one among millions.

This year sexual assault has been at the forefront in many political debates. I am not here to discuss politics. I loathe politics.  I feel certain that you can make your own judgment call on that one. I will only say that I feel like its prevalence in discussion by the media has only made it more difficult for victims. It has only vilified us.

What I AM going to talk about today is how this has played a part in my life. I see its effects on my life still to this day.

Neither time did I report it. Not reporting either instance is something that I am going to have to live with and a burden that I will bear. I have forgiven both men, and there is nothing I can do but move forward.

After the first incident, I was terrified to be alone. Only in my adult life did I see how the two correlated.

As a teen, I would listen to our youth pastors talk about purity before marriage, and I was left feeling like I was somehow dirty or impure.  Not by my own doing, but by what happened to me. 

When I was 23, I was out partying in celebration of the 4th of July. I had too much to drink, which is something I will always regret. I was with friends, I wasn’t driving, so I thought it was okay. I was giddy. We were having a blast. There were about six of us that left the bar together, and went driving around. We wound up at a place with a hot tub. One of the guys with us honed in on me, grabbed me from behind, and sat me down on his naked lap. He was determined that we were going to have sex that night. I laughed it off at first, I truly thought he was kidding, or just putting on a show. I tried to get out of his grip. He kept pulling me onto him. After a few minutes of this, the others got out of the hot tub as it was getting uncomfortable. I kept trying to get out of his grip, he kept pulling me back. He had me from behind so I was at a bit of a disadvantage. He was probably around 6’5” and 250 lbs. What makes me angry to this day was the fact that there were two other men with us, who sat back and did nothing. Would you like to know who came to my rescue? My teeny, tiny, petite best friend.

Afterwards, I made light of it. Said it wasn’t that big of a deal. Because that is what I do when I don’t know how to handle my emotions. But I vividly remember getting back to our hotel that night and scrubbing my skin raw trying to clean him off of me. He left me with hickies on my neck. What he took from me was my sense of security.

I am now extremely cautious of who I drink with. I will never get to the point where I am not in control ever again.

I am now extremely cautious of men who push me or try to manipulate me. I am overly sensitive to men who do not take my “no” as a definitive answer.

I set boundaries, as it gives me a sense of control. 

I see sex as separate from intimacy, which is something that I'm working on.

I am cautious about the people I allow to touch me. Even a simple hug. I’m getting better...but it has taken a lot of time.

If someone gives me weird vibes, I get out of that situation quickly.  I've learned to trust my instincts.

There are many things that still plague me to this day.

This year, due to the many news stories, I have heard and read comments (from people in OUR area) like: "Well, if kids were brought up in church these days, they wouldn't get themselves into those situations."  "Well, if she hadn't have dressed a certain way."  Comments like this irritate the hell out of me, because in true instances of sexual assault, when a victim reads/hears this it makes us feel as if WE are in the wrong.  Here are some facts.  I was brought up in church.  The night that I spoke of, I was wearing jean capris and a short sleeved shirt.  And no matter how many times I said "NO!" or tried to get away, he was not hearing it.  As someone who walked through this, hear my words:  I. Am. Not. To. Blame. For. His. Actions.

I guess the real point to this blog post is to get my story out there. I need you to realize that a sexual assault victim is not just someone that you see in a National news story. There are women and girls right here that have been affected by this.  Be careful with your words.

And if you are a victim of sexual assault, my message to you is this:  You are not alone.  It was not your fault.  If ever you need to reach out to someone, I am here.

**All statistic photos were found on the RAINN.Org website. 

Wordless Wednesday

HELP!

Okay, no matter what, the headline sounds frantic...and honestly, it's just not that serious...

BUT...I could use your help, friends.

I need your help to meet a little goal of mine.  We often talk about supporting and shopping local, but what about those of us with goals that are a smidge more unconventional?

One of my goals this year is to widen my audience a bit.

You see, I am nearing 75,000 views.  Now, no, I have not "gone viral."  No, I'm no Instagram big-wig.  But for a small town blog?  75,000 views is pretty good.  I'm hoping...fingers crossed...to see 100,000 views sometime this year.  That's where you guys come in.  If you could support me enough to start sharing my blog posts, I would appreciate it.  More shares=more eyes that see it.

Thank you in advance!

XOXO
Aleta Kaylee

Aleta Kaylee Sheffield: Keeper of the Crystals

Aleta Kaylee Sheffield
Religion: Christianity
Denomination: Southern Baptist
Identifies as: Empath, Humanist, Wanderer, Traveler, Modern Hippie, Sass Mouth, Lover of the Stars, Keeper of the Crystals, Burner of the Sage

I’m going to go ahead and apologize for how long I feel like this post will be. Also, if you have any negative feedback, I can’t say I actually want to hear it. This is more informational, and not really up for debate.

Recently, because of my interest in crystals, I’ve been called a “witch.” I’ve had someone kid me about “it being okay as long as I don’t sacrifice anything.” I have listened to snide remarks about me burning sage, they “didn’t believe in all of that.” That’s fine...everyone is entitled to their beliefs.

While I don’t feel the need to justify my beliefs to anyone, I would like the opportunity to set a few things straight...because stereotypes and generalizations annoy me.

I am not a witch. Although, I don’t find that term derogatory because I do have dear friends that are practicing witches. And I suppose it infuriates some that I am so accepting of others’ beliefs....to which I would like to respond...I was not put here on this earth to cast judgment on ANYONE...I was put on this earth to love others.

I digress...what amazes me, I suppose...is that one can believe that God created the heavens and the earth; that caused the lame to walk and the blind to see; that put thought in every star in the sky and every fleck of sand; that knew the number of hairs on your head....can’t believe that God would’ve put thought into creating stones that had healing properties. What some blindly deem “witchcraft,” I like to think of as “God’s little helpers.”  What people disregard and don't understand, I would like to reply "Don't limit my God."

There are stones that calm and soothe me. There are stones that give me energy. There are stones that help me reject negative energy around me.

To boot, the traveler in me LOVES the fact that I have pieces from Russia, from India, from Mexico, from Madagascar, from Morocco, from Brazil, from Canada, etc etc. I may never get to see some of these places in my lifetime, but I have a piece from each of them. And that, in itself, is extremely cool.

What also amazes me is that people look at you like you have two heads when you start talking about moon phases. Do they not understand that women have been going by this in cutting their hair for years? Do they not realize that farmers have been using moon phases for hundreds of years to grow a more plentiful crop? Why would it not make sense to do something like setting your intentions for the month on the New Moon? Or putting your crystals out in the full moon to soak up it’s energy?

And delving into the sage...Sage CALMS me. In fact, that is one of the most calming scents to me. And ironically enough, I pray when I sage. Given the fact that I have terrible ADD as an adult, it helps me focus on my prayer. At night I cover myself in sage smoke, and my prayer goes something like this: “Please help my thoughts be pure and clear. Please open my eyes to see what You need me to see. Please help me to speak Your word. Give me the courage to say what needs to be said. Clear the burdens and worry from my shoulders. Open my heart, and help me show Your love to others. Help me to better serve others. Please help me to be happy and healthy and feel safe. And lead me to those I need to help. Amen.”

This year has been one of the most trying years of my adult life work-wise. I won’t go into it much...but there have been days that I honestly didn’t feel safe, I wasn’t happy, I felt like I was failing everyone in some way...I will always be grateful for the day I walked into Jen’s shop and she brought me a clear quartz pendant and a black tourmaline to carry around. Jen knew some of my struggles...and she knew just what I needed at that very moment. And from then to now, I have found myself in a much better, much more prayerful, more at peace, place.

So, that’s where I’m at, y’all. Love me or leave me.

Our Sweet Puddin

Anyone who is on my Facebook or Instagram have probably heard the story. But just shy of 3 weeks ago, I went out on the porch to find one of our kittens laying near a stack of pavers that we had for a yard project. At first inspection, I noticed her tail had been seriously bitten. I ran inside to get Vetricyn as Rheba rounded the porch. Rheba went to pick her up to spray her with it and realized that she was missing her front leg. She had been attacked by two stray dogs that had been roaming the neighborhood (who later went on to attack a neighbor’s calf and donkey).

Honestly, going to the vet, I wasn’t sure what to expect. After an exam by Dr. Renaud, one of the sweetest vets alive, he assured her that our sweet baby would be just fine. In fact, we waited to have the surgery that next Monday…to give Puddin time to calm down from such a traumatic event.

Monday came, and Mom, Rheba and I sat on pins and needles. After all, that’s a LOT for a seven-week-old kitten to go through. Her surgery wound up being the very last of the day. They amputated her tail with no issue, but the surgery on her arm wound up being more extensive than they had expected. If you can imagine, her arm had been torn off at what would be our elbow. But some of the bone in the lower part of the arm had come bent around and gone back up into the upper arm during the struggle apparently. They ended up amputating it at the shoulder.

We fed her with an eye dropper until she was able to eat cat food again. We held her nearly constantly until my sister, the nurse, “forced” her into rehab. And I’m not going lie…the first few days, she’d make a lap around our living room and dining room…and then she’d have to nap for a bit. It had been several days since she’d really had to be active. But she quickly got into the swing of things.

 

I am happy to say that my sweet Puddin is doing AMAZINGLY. She gets around so well! She runs, she plays, she climbs…she is a very active little girl.

Some of her favorite things currently are: Andy Griffith…it’s kind of “our time” every night. We lay on my bed and watch it. She loves jumping over and under our TV trays in the living room. She isn’t quite sure of Karter just yet…but she loves running up to her and stopping just short of her. And she LOVES her toys…which honestly, seem to be really helping her coordination.

Overall, Puddin is a very loved, very spoiled little kitten. The Sheffield girls have truly been blessed by witnessing this sweet girl recover.

And to all my friends on here, Facebook, and Instagram…prepare yourselves. You will be seeing a lot more of Puddin.

#CatsOfInstagram #ThreeLeggedCats #PuddinTheWonderCat

The Steel Magnolias

Author's Note:  This is a little piece that I wrote a few years ago.  But still, it's one of my favorite pieces.  I was feeling a bit downtrodden this week, so I wanted to post a reminder of our strength as women.

We are the ones that don’t know God’s plan but have faith that He will see us through.   We stand beside our father’s bedside, holding his hand, choking back tears, so that we are strong for him in his last hours.  We are the ones that stand in a long line of mourners to pass our friend’s casket to give our condolences to her family.  We are the ones that step in to help a child facing bullies or hardships.  We are the ones that hold our mother’s hand as she faces her first round of chemo.  We are the ones that make the extra effort to make sure some of the families in need have their needs met.  We are the ones that beg God to loosen the grip of alcoholism that our husbands or boyfriends are facing.  We are the ones that stand and receive a folded flag in place of our fiance's safe return.  We are the ones that face the defeat of rape and abuse and sexism and harassment and come out of it stronger.  We are at our husband's side when he is weak; yet, we can stand on our own.  We are the ones that can survive poverty, or bad relationships; we are the ones that thrive despite bad odds.  We believe in greatness.  We hold our heads high even when our world is crumbling.  Yes, we are the ones that smile through our tears.

You will not see our worry lines on a daily basis, but you will notice how our laugh lines somehow soften our face.  We dream through our despair.  We continue to see beauty even when the reality of life knocks us down.  We love fiercely through the hate.  The only thing that surpasses our beauty is our strength.  We are tough as nails, and yet somehow tender.  We are just as God intended.  We are the Steel Magnolias.

Beige

Photo credit: Jennifer Lazos

I found myself lying on the bed watching the ceiling fan spin round and round. I lay there contemplating the beauty in the world, and its vulgarity. I lay there thinking about how I needed to dust my fan.  I lay there contemplating the events that had transpired which led me to that very moment....

He always knew how to keep my insecurities raw. He knew just the thing to make me question both myself and my role and my worth. He knew the boundaries I had set for myself; and yet, somehow, he always knew how to push just a little bit further. He knew just the thing to say to make me jealous, though I would never consider myself a jealous person. And he certainly knew how to make me madder than a hornet.

My mind was jumbled with all of these thoughts...all at once.

I was coming down from every passion-fueled emotion.

It was a very beige moment. I wasn’t blue, really. I wasn’t seeing red anymore. I wasn’t green with jealousy.  I wasn’t yellow with cowardice.  And I certainly wasn’t peachy.  Yes, more than anything, I felt beige. And I hated both that color and that feeling.

Christmas Wrap-Up

I have been dying to share with you guys some of the local/small business Christmas gifts I purchased this year. I just had to wait until my best friend's birthday passed.

Here goes:

The present I was so dang excited about this year was my mom’s. I ordered her this back in August. Victoria Tillotson is a jewelry maker out of New York. She can be found on Instagram under two names: @chicmetal and @victoria_tillotson. My dear friend Beth had introduced me to her page during the summer and I fell in love with her work. She made a necklace previously very similar to this and I just knew that Mom needed one. This is made of natural ruby. Victoria was such a peach to deal with! She sent me photos of some stones to choose from, and we went from there. I was so pleased at how the final result turned out. And mom loves it! Y’all check out her work!

 

Many of you that follow myself and my family on facebook know, but the first week of December, my sister’s beloved horse Moose passed away after an unexpected illness. To say that my sister grieved, and is grieving, would be putting it mildly. He had seen her through good times and bad; and had been her very best companion. The day that he passed, I messaged my friend Beth, of Wildling Artistry, and asked her to make a special bracelet. She made it with a sterling silver horse, amethyst stones and labradorite to help with grieving. Also, my friend Brandi Bonanno of Moo Boo’s Bowtique and Udder Stuff also made my sister a sentimental piece. She took a photo that I sent of Rheba and Moose and created this pendant.

Back in September, I asked my friend Beth to make a special Mala for my best friend Krystle’s birthday. I wanted something calming and peaceful. Beth had shown me a turtle charm that she had recently gotten, and I asked her to include it on Krystle’s mala. I thought that the moonstone and sea sediment stone mala turned out perfectly.

I also commissioned Beth to help with my BIL (brother-in-law). I was at a complete loss for what to buy him this year. Finally, I thought about embroidered hats! I had Chris Rogers handle the designs for me. I sent the designs to Beth, she had them digitized and they were ready to be embroidered. She also made a hat for Rheba and Nichole for me.

Poor mom had themes for her gifts this year…it was either jewelry, reading material, or yoga-based. I won’t say that Mom is just jumping up and down to get to yoga every week. But she goes…and I am so proud of her and how far she’s come.  First, I bought her a gift certificate to Krystle's yoga class, just to pay for a few classes in advance for her.  I decided to support myself a little bit, and I ordered a yoga mat for her with one of my photos on it from Fine Art America. It was her favorite photo of mine.

The Fall that my dad passed away, my mom, sister and I went to Fernandina Beach for a week to rest and recoup after having such a trying year. I had downloaded some music to take with us, which included a cd from a former classmate of mine. Y’all….I don’t think we changed the cd the entire week. They loved it. This Summer, KW and I were over in Cedar Key celebrating one night and we happened to walk past a restaurant and hear TJ singing. Well, of course, we had to go in. He had just recently recorded a new CD. So, I went ahead and picked up copies for Mom and Rheba.

Now, we have a lot of local talent in the area…truly, we do. And after seeing a pendant that she made for me one night, I knew that I was going to have Cheryl wire-wrap a few pendants for me for Christmas gifts. I looked through a few of my very favorite stones and chose a bloodstone for my friend-cousin-and old coworker Chris. I thought that the end result was fantastic. She made it look masculine enough while also leaving the stone as the focal point.

Speaking of Cheryl, who is also a local tattoo artist at Artistic Soul Tattoo in Chiefland…Let me tell you about my friend Jen. After Rheba lost her horse, ideas began spinning in her head for what she could do to honor him. As Rheba has always loved a half-sleeve tattoo, she has chosen to do one in memory of Moose. One of my last-minute gifts (because it was close by and didn’t require any advance notice) was a gift certificate for Rheba to help with the cost of her tattoo.

I mentioned the Bird’s Nest in one of my previous posts. While I was there early this Fall, perusing all of their homegoods, I found a turtle bottle opener. Given that turtles have significant meaning for my friend KW, I went ahead and picked it up that day. I ended up saving it for her birthday gift (along with the mala).

 

Now, while Walgreens’ is not what I would consider a small business, I did end up getting a couple of gifts from them this year. While I have an account with Fine Art America, and sell my prints on there, I get no discounts or percentage back when I buy an item of my own from them. And because I wasn’t sure that mpix could get me the canvases in enough time, I went to my local Walgreens…which now offers same-day canvases (on some sizes). I had a photo that I had taken at Mercier’s Apple Orchard while we were in Blue Ridge put on canvas for my mom. I had a photo of one of my favorite areas printed on canvas for my friend Matt. I just wanted them to have one of my photos.

While this is not all of the local/small business items that I bought for Christmas…I wanted to share them as they are some of my very favorites. If you have any questions about any of the names/businesses that I’ve mentioned, please let me know.

Noise

There is nothing I love more than the time between 6 and 6:30 in the morning, when I sit eating my breakfast, collecting my thoughts in the unadulterated quiet. I need that time before the world gets loud.

I’m finding more and more that I don’t have the urge to fill every gap in time, to fill every soundless moment. I'm okay just being.  I crave the quiet. I long to hear the whistling and rustling of nature around me. My mind seeks to find peace in this overly congested hub of continuous noise.

I don’t know why it’s been like this lately, but I seem to be surrounded by people who must fill every second with words. Never in my life have I so struggled with the urge to turn to them, forefinger to lips, and whisper urgently “shhhh.” If I’m being brutally honest here, I feel like I’ve become a half-being, not really being present. People talk. Incessantly talk. And I just mutter “Mmm-hmm” from time to time.

I need a minute. Or a day. I need to be able to process and deal with the thoughts that have been consuming me as of late.