Category Archives: self realizations

What compassion means to me

When I tried to write what compassion means to me, I had the hardest time. What amounts to a potential high school essay, I deleted and rewrote numerous time.

Maybe I didn’t say enough. Or I said too little.

I thought about telling you a story, but I couldn’t narrow down to a single event that would tell you what compassion looks like to me. (Strange, a storyteller not having a story to tell.)

I just have to tell you the best way I know how without a pretty polish or a spoon full of sugar.

To me, compassion is not pity or sympathy, which is just pity-light. It’s not a selfish act or emotion. It doesn’t involve somehow “proving” what a good person you are.

It’s the willingness to meet someone where he is. To not judge. To understand that you don’t get it.

You honestly don’t.

You may have had some similar situation happen. That’s entirely possible. Yet…

You don’t know everything he’s gone through. You don’t know what brought him to your door. His Truth is real. For this person, it’s a tangible thing he lives with.

He may not have handled the situation the way you would. He may have just dealt with it the best way he knew how, which maybe led to a negative outcome.

Don’t dismiss him because he made mistakes. Or his recovery is taking longer than yours. It matters. It happened. He’s a person.

People in general have a huge capacity to harm each other. We can be hurtful and thoughtless without meaning or with a fiery purpose. I know I’ve been too harsh. Sitting on my throne built on, “If you would just do xyz, you wouldn’t be like this.” and “How does anyone get into this situation?” Entirely too quick to judge.

This extends to my views of myself.

I’m such a mess. I’m a deeply flawed human being who consistently makes mistakes. I jump, misjudge the distance and fall short all too often. If we wore our inner scars on the outside, I would be a torn motley quilt of messily stitched patches, hurriedly sewn together with imprecision and decidedly lack of forethought.

I’m the embodiment of the bull in the China shop of life.

And that’s ok. Even as this imperfect patchwork, I have to recognize my value with my flaws. I must know myself, what I bring to this world and remember what I’ve overcome to get here. To not judge myself too harshly.

Before feeling that compassion for others, we must first give it to ourselves. Oh Ru Paul you were so right–

“If you don’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?”

We have a huge capacity to love. There’s no limit to that metaphorical human heart. It pulses with beauty and hope. You can see it in the way the quiet elegance of the tides ebb and flow, the twinkle in your Mom’s eye when you give her a surprise visit and the giggles of a child playing with his puppy. It’s everywhere.

By giving that compassion to ourselves and others, we can tap into that heart. Make it stronger.

I urge you to join this movement of #1000Speak. Shed light to your corner of the internet. Together, we’ll make it shine like a clear summer’s night sky. Beautiful.

If you’re wondering what #1000Speak is, check out this video we made:

If you write a post, link it up here:


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Remembering Valentine’s Day…

http;//penpaperpad.comOr I’m lucky I have a blog, because we suck at memory.

The Mathemagician and I were trying to remember what we did last year for Valentine’s Day.

Our first one together, we went on a double date with his sister and her husband–then finance.

Next year was our first in Hawai’i. We went to this place called Uncle Bo’s, because we thought it would be cheap and delicious…it was delicious, but not cheap. Totally worth it though.

So we come to last year…and totally drew a blank.

Then I remembered I’d written him a public love letter, because I’m a traditionalist. I talked all about our Valentine’s Day–WEEK, which totally made today’s tentative plans of heart-shaped pizza and Netflix seem weak.

Click here and read this rare occasions where I’m pretty emotionally open on PenPaperPad. So, enjoy it and happy Valentine’s Day.


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Am I Addicted to Blogging?

Blogging bloggers everywhere. Maybe I should just drink?

My Mom just looked over her shoulder, frown on her face, “I thought you were stopping 20 minutes ago?” I looked up from my laptop blinking sluggishly.

Did I say I was going to stop? I guess I did.

“Well Mom, I thought I’d write a blog about being addicting to blogging,” I replied as though I had thought about it all night, but seriously it just popped into my head.

I was at the library for four hours today. My brother, who was picking me up, texted me and asked me if I was alright. Granted my family doesn’t really understand my deep affinity for libraries. There was so much writing to do! I went home and continued. Until now…which is 1:20 a.m.  This could be a problem.

I try to comment on as many blogs as possible. I don’t want to give a number, because I have a feeling that it may be a ridiculously high number, so I don’t want to know. I try to respond as immediately as possible to social media inquiries. Trying to develop new relationships with new-to-me-bloggers, finding new places to write. Trying to get the courage to send queries to the big boys A List blogs (haven’t gotten those cojones yet, but I’ll keep you posted.)

I plan to wake up tomorrow and spend another five hours at the library, blogging, outlining future articles, writing ideas for a future book, RT, sending messages, liking things, applying for freelance positions, trying to figure out how to do this sponsorship thing, thinking about tinkering with this blog and how to start the new one. And then I’ll come back to my Mom’s and do the same thing. Again. Rinse and repeat. This is not unlike my life on the island.

I take my laptop everywhere, and when I’m spending the night at a friend’s house, I’m doing all of the above. Sometimes I feel like the writing is secondary to the rest.

A writer, who spends more time talking to people and networking than writing? Is this the what the author world is supposed to look like?

When my girl Starr Bryson the head chick in charge at The Insomniac’s Dream tells me she’s writing thirty posts, raising kids, slaying dragons and whatnot, I felt slightly unimpressive. So, I needed to slay some dragons too. Or at least lay some dragons. (what?!) We’re venturing into the land of smut, or erotica if you will. The site: Sinful Dreams. Check it out. I have a feeling it won’t be what you think.

Remember when I wrote that blog post about what is erotica? I guess I figured it out and here’s my first dalliance into it: Just One Night. If you don’t like that sort of thing, please don’t read it, get angry and send me hate mail. If you curious, check it out and tell me what you think. We’re also looking for submissions.

Then there’s the Creative Buzz Hop, which I’m doing with Michelle Liew from Muses from the Deep. This at least will get me writing once a week, and reading a bunch of posts about interesting topics. We try to tap into something that’s kind of creating a buzz around the internets/pop culture etc. Oh! This week’s topic infidelity. (Oooh…what?! smut and infidelity?!) We’ll still have a video (nothing dirty people, no worries) or quote. Maybe some questions to get you thinking about it, and our own take on the topic. I’d love for you guys to join. This Thursday…though the early birds will get to see it on Wednesday. I’ve even registered a hashtag for it on Twitter #creativebuzz.

Hello. My name is Tamara Woods. and I’m a blogging addict. I can’t help it. What about you guys? Do you find your blogging habit is getting bigger? Have you had to cut back? Can’t wait to hear what you have to say in the comments.

Aloha ya’ll!



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