A love story unfolds: even as my star is a roller coaster ride … I posted this five years ago: I blog and post under the essence of who I am.
If it wasn’t for the brave souls who were strong enough to bare their souls, allowing our witness to their struggle with mental illness caused by a horrible event, like picking up the small pieces of the part of themselves that scattered when innocence is shattered.
An observation: if you really talk to your kids or grandkids as peers, a CEO to the tens of hundred thousands of recruits his own personal story of the road he travelled (75% at least or more) to shed light how it wasn’t all titles and shareholder valued communicated from the heart or gut that it wasn’t always fireworks and giggles as a universal perceived of women, by even progressives because their moms were in the traditional role and they didn’t merely kick their offspring out of the nest: they were booted into post secondary with a firm touch.
My mom saw really early how the only real way a woman could touch the glass ceiling with cheerleading championing how much further you could go, coddling and cuddling wasn’t her style yet it evolved into my own adaptation of a deep-rooted belief that “firm with a feather touch” one of the first fooling around with images and word to create beautiful or thought provoking posts.
READ MORE at YUPPYdom at @Wordpress
To my Facebook Tribe I wrote and posted with a 5 year memory: “I haven’t said THANK YOU for quite some time. I tag those who have made me think twice on a multitude of thoughts and whom I continuously support me. It shows more and more in STATS there is a tribe established among likeminded people who agree on some things, where they agree on like art, to diverse in locations or as common as a mutual belief, hobby, experiential understanding that social media and virtual opportunity could be endless. Ironically able to be the best version of yourself or who your higher power wanted you to be.
Never, however, stepping beyond the thrill of new frontiers by community or communications with a constant buzz because of the common strength of attracting and building a community that is safe, with borders solely of interest or intellectual curiosity, whether joined by philosophy or demographics [ which I often talk about on YUPPYdom blog on Word Press ].
Continued there ….
Don’t sweat the small stuff
Was the rhythm we tried to follow. Ours is the generation that faced the most dangerous and destructive disease unfaced since our parents, the war era and Great Depression children born in the 1930s and became adults in the 1950s.
Think of the contrast by way of thinking: you got a job you kept with the same company or unit ( political or militarily) with generally the same attributes. This was the generation of my parents and upbringing. By the time I came along, in theory, everything was candy coated with rose tinted eyes. Manners, behaviour and accomplishment was a direct spotlight on her as a mother.
We’re of the generation that was repeatedly told:
If you work hard, you make money,
go places and have lots of things
was drilled into us before being booted from the thorny nest of roses (intentional mix metaphors).
The Continual Pursuit of Excellence
is the tune that Yuppies march to and sing in unison. Less likely to moan and groan the victim song, seeing it as a flaw to their otherwise hip vibe. Sometimes identified by expensive shoes with tassels or running shoes like Steve Jobs or Bill Gates who made wearing glasses cool. As if we don’t have enough to keep up with now eyeglasses frameware with all the works of transitions and progressives who could only have been deemed hip in the aging demographic pool, with some Baby Boomer hanger-ons and target audience marketing would be the most appealing because they buy into the dream, maybe catching a glimpse here and there where those who worked really hard, had to make sacrifices, ended up with glorious fame or wealth or reputation.