Sky above me, Earth below me, Fire within me

We all have fire within us, don't we? 

To one degree or another? 

On a scale of 1 - 5? 1 - 10? 
Hmm. Humans, I think are a bit more complex than those limiting scales. 
Maybe 1 - 100 or even 1 - 500 would be a more accurate scale.

With 1 being almost comatose and 500 being a Spartan Warrior, always in battle mode, where do you think you would be?
It's tough to say, without sounding narcissistic, without putting oneself under an uncomfortable mental microscope.

Maybe, we are all at different rates at different times in our lives or through out different phases in life. As a child, being unaware of the danger in the world is common. A person may recklessly dart out in front of a car while joyfully enjoying the speed of pedaling a bicycle so fast the wind is singing past ears in which hearing is so stimulated, it usurps all else.

As a teenager, rebelling against authority of parents, teachers, even law enforcement personnel is fairly common. Sometimes the lesson is learned, sometimes the limits are tested over and over, disregarding consequences.

It's a delicate balance, isn't it?

Keeping the fire of a joyful spirit alive, well into adulthood, while tempering it enough so as to fit in, in a world of rules, laws, norms.

Yes, I know of this struggle. 

I was painfully shy as a child in an abusive, dysfunctional home. While subjecting myself to the discipline of military basic training, the shy girl became minimized. The fiery spirit was awakened.

Rut roh!

Of all the career fields I could have chosen, I chose Law Enforcement.
A male dominated, strict, fire tempering career field. Not exactly the best fit for a personality such as mine was, yet, it's what I did.

My mother was a rebellious spit-fire with bright red curly hair. She thumbed her nose at parents, rules, anything that didn't suit her fiery temperament. She also ended up paying the price for it.

Her life.

I like to think that I have just enough of her intelligence, her fire, her inventiveness, while having the maturity to choose a better path.
I have strawberry blond hair. Not exactly the light blond of my German Grandmother, not exactly the fiery red of my mother.

Somewhere in there is the happy medium. The happy medium of being a kind, compassionate sweetheart, while also being one to stand up for myself. Keep my mental-physical-emotional boundaries. A sweetheart while being far from a door mat.

If you don't want to be a door mat, don't lay down.

Phrasing this in the positive:

If you wish to be respected, have a spine, stand up for yourself.

See that? *smile*

People don't like it when a person stands up for themselves. At least, not in the moment. They want their own way, most of us, do. Yet, where is the fun in a person who allows anyone to walk all over them. The truth is, it's ultimately no fun for anyone.

With my strawberry blond hair, big green eyes, only 5'3", I look like an easy target. Well, that's a mistake. I'm a small town country girl, I look like a classic girl next door. Am well aware of this, it's been pointed out enough times.
Yet, I'm a survivor, a fighter, a lover, a patriot, a dreamer, I think very deep, I love with my whole heart, had to cut that shizz out! lol

Thoughts of suicide also turn around inside my brain, then, the fighter takes over. Hopefully, the fighter will keep winning as the suicide season is here for me. Being alone at Christmas is so hard. No one really cares enough about me to care that I am alone on Christmas Day as I have been for the last 3 years if I didn't shell out the $$ to take a trip somewhere, where it doesn't matter. Places such as Las Vegas, NV, Honolulu, HI, or, even out on a very very long hike if the weather permits. 

Still, the injustice of having given so much to 4 ungrateful offspring, having welcomed single people into the family home so many times for so many years. Yet, I am on the other side with no one caring enough as I had cared for others for so many years.
It sucks.
So, I allow the fighter to win, yet again, this year. I super clean my home as a gift to myself. I avoid the Christmas songs, the "Merry Christmas" trilling that is everywhere. I tell myself, that it's okay, even though it isn't.

Oh, I could have someone in my life if I were willing to just settle. I settled for a lesser life than I deserved at 21, I won't settle again.

A Spartan Warrior comforts herself, makes her own happiness, stays strong, does what is needed to survive. She fends off the wild beasts in the form of males that would try to take advantage of her desire to be loved. She gives up some extraneous possessions in trade for money which would give her security. She focuses on that which evokes happiness, soft, sweet, feminine things. She trains her body to be strong, healthy, resilient, lets the sweat become her armor. The magical sweat of sweet release of endorphins. 

Guess who is happier, stronger, more lean, wiser than last year?

THIS GIRL!