My Dream

Like the great Martin Luther King(jr), I have a dream.

I dream of a time that men and women walk down alleys at night, unafraid of the shadows which lurk within.

I dream of a day when race isn’t mentioned at the beginning of a story... of a day that race - a social construct at its core - ceases to exist, and the color varieties of our skin is celebrated as nothing more or less than beautiful & unique.

I dream of a time when food, shelter, clothing, and medical care are viewed as basic human rights.

I dream of a time when medical autonomy is valued from birth, and the decisions one makes for their own care are protected as rights.

I dream that bodily autonomy is taught to all of our young people, as soon as they are old enough to speak.

I dream of a day that femininity is celebrated, and “You have a lot of feminine traits,” is a sentence that needs no follow-up.

I dream of a time that higher education is offered freely, because an educated people a healthy people.  I dream the people are free to pursue their passions, be it art, parenthood, or higher education, because they know their survival is ensured.  

I dream of the day when peoples around the world join hands in peace, and in love.  I dream of the day that our children can play in solidarity and safety.

I dream of ONE DAY - and ONE DAY is beautiful.

ONE DAY is here... you need only allow it. 

I release. I surrender. I allow. I accept.

And So It Is. Amen.

Speaking With GOD

Do you speak to me like you speak to GOD?

Those words hit me like an AK-47. I’ll be honest, I don’t even know what the lyrics before or after were; I was so lost in what I was doing (dancing to the music, cleaning house, getting sippy cups) that when these words hit me with such intensity, I knew GOD was speaking directly to me.  

At first my mind went to the people in my life who I’ve perceived to have done me wrong, but even as I did so I could feel the subtle Voice of Source Creator settle into my heart.  “No,” it whispered, “this is for you.”  Eyes widening, I considered the question in a knew way: do I speak to others the way I speak to GOD?

Well... not always.

The thought was humbling.  Here I am, a professor of Love and seeker of Truth, acknowledging that We Are all beautiful fractals of our Creator GOD... and speaking to my fellow Light Beings as though they were ‘mere mortals’, as it were.  What an injustice to them! ...what an injustice to myself.

As a fellow God or Goddess incarnate, every single person I have ever spoken to is a part of me. When I speak to them, I speak to myself.  Hell, when I think of them, I think of myself. And words, thoughts, emotions, etc, are nothing more than energy.... so what energy have I been plugging into the incomprehensible entity that is The Universe? 

The truth is, we’ve all done it.  Someone says or does something that causes emotions to rise up, and it’s easy to lose ourselves in that.  Speaking - or thinking - kindly becomes the farthest thing from our mind as we release the current that we feel is ‘justly deserved’.  But would we speak that way to GOD?  Would we do so even in His presence?

Far be it from me to answer for you. I’ve already admitted that I am far from perfect in this matter - and not just people who have ‘done me wrong’ (though truthfully, that will always be a matter of perception): my friends, my husband, my children, random strangers I’ve only briefly interacted with... the list goes on.  Not even the dearest people to me have been spared from at least the occasional grumbling thought, or cross word.  And that is definitely not how I speak to GOD.

That changes now.  In this moment, as I write these words to you, I commit myself to change.  Like riding a bike, I will get back up any time I fall short of this goal, until my words, my tone, my every thought directed at any one or thing reflects the GOD essence that I know they ARE.  

And so it is.

Breadcrumbs and Blessings

I read a meme the other day that I couldn’t help but laugh at as I nodded agreement. Still chuckling, I read it to my husband: “Have you ever met someone who is just the human form of breadcrumbs in bed?”

He didn’t get it.  “Breadcrumbs?” I pressed.  “You know, when you’re eating in bed and get breadcrumbs in the sheets?  How annoying that is?”

“Oh.”

Just “oh”? Alright, well, whatever, I thought.  I didn’t quite get how he didn’t ‘get it’, but I shrugged and moved on.

This morning it hit me.

I have absolutely no idea what inspired this train of thought - well, yes I do (Thank you, Source Creator!) - but today as I was listening to a podcast I realized... he didn’t get it, because he perceived things differently (there’s that word again...).

Like squirrels, there is nothing about bed breadcrumbs that could be considered malicious. They just are what they are.  Furthermore, they are the result of something positive: the meal I just enjoyed from the comfort of my own bed.  

How often do we do that - focus solely on what we perceive to be the negative aspects of our many blessings?  ‘Never mind the awesome house and yard I have... that neighbor 😒’  ‘Forget the delicious meal my partner just made... look at all these dishes I have to do now!’ ‘Ugh, this traffic is just awful (as I drive my gorgeous, brand new car to work)!’  The list goes on.

Months ago I had a dream that I didn’t understand.  Strung over the middle of a large, deep pool was a net, and on that net were several drawstring purses filled with gold coins.  I knew intrinsically that one of the purses was for me, so I swam over, climbed onto the net, and chose mine.  When I got into the water to swim back, however, the purse around my neck began to weigh me down, pulling me deeper toward the bottom of the pool.  Panicking, and justifying my next action with “the Universe will provide more”, I tossed the purse aside and shot back to the surface, gasping for air when I reemerged. 

As I stated before, I didn’t understand the meaning of that dream... I do now.  In fact, it now seems so obvious that I can’t help wondering why I didn’t get it before.

Blessings don’t come as simple, solely pleasurable events.  They are complex, often needing what you might perceive as negative things/people/etc to exist at all.  If we allow ourselves to get caught up in the ‘weight’ of what is otherwise a beautiful treasure, we will find ourselves being dragged to the bottom of our pool.  Or worse, tossing aside the priceless blessings the Universe has so generously bestowed upon us. 

And the Universe will provide more... in such a way that mirrors the perfection of Source Creator.  You see, we are loved - so loved - and Creator wants nothing more than our greatest happiness.  Well, if we weren’t happy with what was just given us... why would we be happy with more of the same? 

The answer is, we wouldn’t. And until we learn to appreciate fully the nature of our blessings (because everything is a blessing), we will never be given more.  Well, I suppose that’s not entirely true; we will always be given more... of what we already have.

How wonderful that is!, especially when you truly understand it:

More grumbling will bring more things/events/people intended to teach us gratitude.... and more gratitude will bring more to be grateful for.

More selfish action or mindset will bring about more poverty, creating the opportunity to truly appreciate the generosity of others... and more generosity will bring about more opportunities for giving.

And viewing people as ‘breadcrumbs in bed’ will bring more opportunities to learn patience, understanding, and acceptance.

But of course it is that way; how else could we grow? How else could we ever aspire to become anything more than the ego-driven creatures we have been conditioned to believe We Are?  That is the lie we must cast off, not the blessings we have received

So the next time we find ourselves nit-picking at strings, I pray we can take a moment to remember the gifts they are attached to.  Maybe then we’ll find that our gold-filled purses were never intended to drag us into the water... they were meant to help us walk on it. 

My Squirrel

That’s what I’ve lovingly dubbed my husband.

If that doesn’t make sense, allow me to explain:

Squirrels - you know those fuzzy little creatures with the bushy tails that frequent the trees in your backyard - are Nature’s little mess-makers.  

They don’t mean anything by it.  There’s no malice, no ill-intent, nothing like that... they just discard what they’re holding once they’re done with it because, well, they’re squirrels. And what exactly would a squirrel do with it (whatever “it” is), anyway?

Well my husband - who is the kindest, sweetest, smartest, hardest working, most amazing person I have ever been blessed to know - is a squirrel.

When we first got together, as one often does in a new relationship, I found this little quirk of his endearing.  Time and life clouded that sentiment, though, and over the last several months I have found myself grumbling more and more at his “squirreling”.  What I realized today, however, is just where the fault lies... and it’s not with him.

Just as Nature’s squirrels are not malicious in their mess-making, neither is mine; it’s just who he IS.  Once upon a time I accepted him - ALL of him.... so why the change?

Because I started perceiving things differently.

Perception is incredibly powerful.  One of my favorite quote, from RA Salvatore’s book, The Servant of the Shard, illustrates this perfectly: “Do keep ever present in your thoughts, my friend, that an illusion can kill you if you believe in it.”

This applies to relationships, as well, as I have so aptly learned.

By allowing myself to become caught up in illusion (“He’s making my job harder! If he cared...blah blah blah”) I had essentially been spoon-feeding my marriage cyanide.  I had become so caught up in the extra five minutes it took to clean up after him, and the grudge that came with it, that I let what I once viewed as a cute quirk worthy of a nickname become a thorn in my side.

And for what?  He never asked me to clean up his mess.  He didn’t expect it, or view housework as my job; he’s told me time and time again that, while he’s grateful for the housework I do, being a mom is all that he expects of me.  “If I come home and the house is a mess, but the kids are fed and taken care of, I’m happy,” are words he has repeated to me so many times you’d think I’d have them memorized (oh wait, I do...).  Plus, he’s a great housekeeper himself... and if it gets messy enough he will absolutely pick up a broom (seriously, fellow stay-at-home’s, try this one out.  They will ABSOLUTELY reach their limit and do it themselves, lol. Whether their limit matches yours, though.... well that’s a topic for another blog 😂).

So why have I taken such a damaging approach to such a benign behavior?  This is a question I’ve had to ask myself, and honestly... I got nothin’.

What I do have, is the power - and the will - to “make a new choice” (thank you, Iyanla Vanzant).  And I choose to remember.

I remember that the mess on the counter is the result of the work he just did for me - for our family.

I remember that he did that work, and does ALL that he does, because he loves us and wants to take care of us.

And I remember the reason I started cleaning up after him in the first place: I love him, and I know he genuinely enjoys walking into a well-kept home.

So squirrel away, my darling.  I don’t mind.  

An Open Letter to Utah Legislators

My name is Journy (legally Amber Burton), and this letter is being written because some very serious concerns have made themselves apparent. 

As you may have garnered from the first line of this letter, I do not live a “traditionally normal” life.  What I mean by this is that the paths I take in life are dictated very much by a personal moral code and intuition that I truly believe come from my Source Creator - the term “God” has a lot of preconceptions, but you could call it that - regardless of how society may view them.  These include (but certainly are not limited to) being true to myself rather than conforming to a societal standard of ‘normal’; helping people who need it whenever I feel called or am in a position to do so; being honest and true in all of doings; and being a good, patient, and loving mother to my children.

It is for my children, and for all children in Utah, that this is being written.

My daughter currently resides in Utah with her biological father.  Up until last year, she lived with me.  Last summer, during her visit with said father, my husband and I took the opportunity to travel state-to-state in search of where we wanted to live.  I wasn’t sure how long that would take, so I called my daughter’s father to offer him an extended visit in order to ensure that I had time to secure a safe roof over her head for when she returned.  I was not in any legal trouble, I had done nothing wrong, and I knew that I could likely secure safe housing before his regular visit had ended.  Nevertheless, I needed to ensure that stability for her sake.

Just as I had suspected, we were in a 3bedroom house before the summer had ended.  Still, I had offered him until the end of October in part so he could have Halloween with her, something he had never had, and - being a woman of my word - I felt compelled to let her stay until then.

At the end of October, before I even bought the plane tickets, I did something that I felt drawn to do through heartfelt prayer and meditation: I offered him 50% custody.  I didn’t necessarily want to, but when my Creator speaks, I listen.  To my surprise, he said he would have to think about it.  I found that odd, but didn’t dwell on it and the tickets were purchased to go and get her.

The day after I told him I had the tickets, I got served; he was suing me for full custody. What’s more, he served me with a restraining order, citing my recent travels as reason to believe I was a flight risk, as well as many other untrue or misconstrued ‘details’ to make the courts believe I was an unfit mother and threat to my own child.  

I now had $700 plane tickets that would do me no good, a court case and restraining order that I had to pay additional money to travel to, and no money for an attorney.  I tried to get legal help from Utah, but because I do not live in the state I was not qualified for truly affordable help (the “help” that I did qualify for cost nearly as much as the lawyer I recently hired). 

Heartbroken, angry, and out of options, I prayed.... and I was told to settle.  I would have stayed in Utah while we somehow scraped up the money for an attorney, but as I said before, when my Creator speaks, I listen.

In the settlement I agreed to joint legal custody, with the father having physical custody.  Due to their demands, and my lack of legal advice or protection, the agreement stated I could have parent-time in Utah, but had to prove my stability (living in the same place for 6 months; a steady household income; etc) in order to take her to my home out of state.  

Now, nearly a year later, I have an attorney.  We recently went to court to prove my stability, but my daughter’s father contested, stating again that I was a flight risk and claiming that I was very likely to disappear with my daughter as I had “withheld” her before (seven years ago, during our divorce, his Commanding Officers had placed on him a restraining order and told him he needed a fellow marine with him during visits with our daughter.  For a few months I will admit I did take advantage of that due to the state of his house and my own fears, allowing him to come and visit but not take her - which he did not do until I came to his apartment and begged him to do so.  However my morals got the best of me and I did let him take her for weekend visits even before that restraining order was lifted).  My attorney fell through there, I realize, as I should have had the chance to disclose my side of the story prior to the hearing, but was not informed that it was being contested.

Apparently that doesn’t matter, though, as I have been told that it is “Utah policy” that the out-of-state parent endure a “three month trial period” before the courts agree to an out-of-state schedule for contested parents.  For this trial period, I was given one week of out-of-state parent time... and I only asked for three.

So much about this case is unacceptable.  And I know mine is not the only one.

It is unacceptable that parents who cannot afford the exorbitant prices that attorneys charge, but may not qualify for legal aid, are forced to give away their rights or are looked down on by the judge or commissioner for showing up without representation - especially if said parent(s) choose to live a non-traditional lifestyle that poses no real threat to the child’s well-being.

It is unacceptable that a third party listen to the parents’ accounts for a few hours, then think they could possibly know the full story well enough to make a potentially life-altering decision about where that child should live, regardless of what ‘evidence’ may have been presented.  

It is unacceptable that it is policy that parents involved in contested cases be treated worse than criminals, needing to prove their innocence, in order to take their child to their home.

I’m not asking for help - “God is a great defense attorney”, and I know my Creator has my and my child’s back.  What will BE will BE, and I trust even today the guidance I have received.

What I am asking for is that someone start looking into this.  I don’t know what the answers are.  All I know is that the current way of doing things is, well.... unacceptable.

Many thanks and blessings,

Journy

Silver Linings

Thank you for the hard times.

Sometimes that’s hard to say 

Especially when cloudy skies

Fill up my precious days

But with the clouds come rainstorms 

And with rain life can bloom

If my garden can do it, then

I know that I can, too

Tell Me Why?

Tell me why you hate me?

I’d really like to know

What was it I did to you

That makes you treat me so?

Tell me why, I’m begging 

Please help me understand

‘Cause looking for the answer

Is like trying to swim through sand

Tell me what I’ve done now

That causes you such pain

That you keep trying to take from me

That love that keeps me sane 

My heart and lover tell me

That it’s not me, it’s you

That being this way, doing that,

Is just “you doing you”

But I hate to believe them;

How could it be so??

How could you be capable...

You, whom I used to know...

Maybe I didn’t know you

Maybe I didn’t see...

Or maybe I ignored it when

You showed yourself to me

Yes, maybe that’s the answer...

I ponder with a sigh

But if it’s not, I’m begging you

Please, just tell me why...

To the ONE who Knows ALL

You knew me when I didn’t 

You took away the pain

And then, when I was ready, 

You gave it back again 

You loved me when I couldn’t 

You saw me through the night

And when my will had faltered 

You gave me strength to fight

You saw me through my blindness

When hate was all I saw

You revealed my reflection

You showed me Love was Law

You knew me when I didn’t

So wisely made me wait

And then, once I stopped trying,

You opened up The Gate

Thank YOU for knowing me better than I know myself 💜

Not Nice... Authentic.

I am not a nice person.

That is not to say I don’t choose to act kindly toward others; I prefer it, actually.  Being a “nice person”, however, has landed me into more sticky situations than maybe I should have found myself in.

Now, in fairness, that could be because of my raise-induced interpretation of what a “nice person” is.  Allow me to paint the picture:

A nice person smiles at others.... even when she doesn’t want to, even when they give her the creeps.

A nice person offers to helps others freely.... even if they never help him, or disrespect the help he has given.

A nice person definitely helps when asked... even if the only reason they ever approach her is for a favor.

A nice person holds his tongue in anger.... even if that anger is righteous, well-deserved, and needs to be spoken.

A nice person holds back her feelings to spare the feelings of others.... even when they walk all over her, betray her confidences, or otherwise make it clear that her feelings are unimportant to them. 

A nice person doesn’t delete people from his social media... even if that person has used said social media against him.

A nice person doesn’t tell her Truth, her story.... if that Truth, that story, could possibly (even unintentionally) shed a negative light on anyone else.

I have been a nice person for far too long.  Little by little, as the years have passed and the backbone grown, I have made the transition from a “nice person”, to an authentic one.  What is the difference? Well, for me...

An authentic person smiles when they want, to whom they want, and about what they want.

An authentic person still offers to and agrees to help... while recognizing the difference of being approached for a favor, and being used. 

An authentic person does not allow themselves to be used.  An authentic person says “no” every time they want or need to.

An authentic person is slow to anger, yet willing to speak it when it is appropriate to do so. 

An authentic person is honest about their feelings, even if those feelings might make another uncomfortable.

An authentic person does not keep people in their circle who they know would cause them harm - whether out of self-preservation, the desire to get ahead somehow, or any other reason.

An authentic person is unapologetic about who they are.  When they choose to tell their story, their Truth, they do so honestly, and without shielding the very people who helped them write it.  

So no, I am not a nice person.

I am, however, an authentic one.