Big Things A Commin’!

Loud Intentions website is changing! I have been praying and mediating so hard over what direction to move with this, and it is becoming more clear to me every single day.

I feel that most people are aware of the power of attraction. Most people believe in it. Most people understand what paradigms are, and are maybe even aware of their own paradigms that are apart of their inner design.

I feel that I am being pulled in the direction of writing about these things more in depth. How to recognize paradigms that we wish to change. What steps we need to take in order to effectively change those paradigms.

Pinpointing our exact limiting beliefs before we crush them and move on to harness the power that we really posses. I have studied it all as a small fascination for years. I have utilized it in my own life situations. It has brought strange, unexplainable, amazing things into my world, and I would like to share these techniques with  everyone else who would like to listen!

We see so many things online, about what paradigm shifts are, and then it briefly tells us how to change them. I want to go into GREAT DETAIL about how to reprogram our belief system, about ourselves, our capabilities, our ‘limits’, self confidence, success, and much more.

I would also love to write more on living life more productively. How to kick procrastination in the teeth and live our lives with passion, purpose, and optimism. So many are stuck in rutts. Spinning wheels and becoming burnt out. I want to help those people by assisting them with goal defining and concrete action plans.

Another thing I feel I am being called to write about is my faith. Mainly for personal reasons I would like to dedicate a page of my website to content relating to my personal walk with God, and how my relationship with Him has molded my life. I have been ridiculed for reading my bible before, and its a crappy feeling. I have also been called a hypocrite for calling myself a Christian, because of mistakes I have made, and continue to make daily. But you know what!? He loves me anyway. And you know what else?? This is my little corner of the internet where I am allowed to write about whatever I want! So those who don’t like it, have a trillion other sites to go to.

Anyhoosers, everyone stay tuned for a new and improved site coming! I am beyond excited to share this stuff with you all.

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Why I Write

Anyone who knows me, knows that I write. Writing papers for my english classes was literally always a breeze for me. I have written for as long as I can remember. Songs about my adolescent heartbreak (just call me, Taylor Swift), poems about abuse, deep thoughts on how to make this world a brighter place, prayers to bring order to my chaotic life, and about a trillion other trivial things.  Up until these last couple of months, I wrote purely for myself.  Now, I write to you!…and you, and you.

Growing up, most of us get a ‘diary’ at some point or another. My grandma bought me one for every occasion, holiday, and sometimes, for no reason at all.  With so many pretty designs on the covers, who can resist buying 3 more before you even fill one half-way up! I was the coolest girl on my country block when I received my journal with the voice recognition passcode lock when I was 10. I had it for all of two days before I realized that it wasn’t all that high tech.  My youngest sister had been able to hack into it by overhearing my password, and apparently her voice sounded so much like mine, (or it was just so cheaply made) that she was able to read my diary.

I have always been drawn to the office supply section of all department stores. Pens, paper, binders, folders, organizers, planners, trapper-keepers, and journals galore! I could hang out in that section for literally hours. Something about untouched, brand new, beautiful stationary just gets me goin’.

I began to regularly write in my journals at the age of 12.  I started each entry with ‘dear diary,’ and then went on to apologize to it that it had been 3 whole days since I last wrote to it (I was just a busy gal).  My entries evolved from childish, green, undeveloped thoughts, to deep philosophical ones.  The older I got, the more life I experienced, the more pain I went through, the deeper my writing became.

By the time I was 17, I had more than 10 full journals filled out. For reasons I won’t go into detail about, that year I felt compelled to burn every single one in a bonfire we were having in our backyard.  One by one I tossed them into the fire, and as the corners started to peel back and melt, with my poking stick I quickly pulled page by page into the flames, catching glances of the paragraphs I had written as I went.  It was like catching fleeting glimpses into very detailed moments of the past 5 years of my life, and then poof, I only had my memories to hold onto.

After that, it became my ritual to burn my journals after I filled them out.  It became my sort of therapy.  It wasn’t until I became pregnant that I began to hold onto my memories again.  Knowing I had a life growing inside of me, I felt if there was ever a time to start really holding onto every memory, it was then.

When I am able to get my thoughts out of my brain and onto something tangible, I feel connected to myself.   I am able to get out of my own way, and focus.  I feel less lonely.  I feel I have more direction in my desicions. My journals have heard many secrets.  Some secrets that not even the closest people to me have heard. Writing gets my creative juices flowing.  It allows me to organize my thoughts, and compartmentalize my feelings.  My journal is my safe place.  My journal was my only voice for a long time.

What I want everyone to know is, we all have a voice. We all deserve to feel connected to ourselves.  We are all important. And it is important to find out how we will use our voices.  I, for one, still have high hopes to make the world a brighter place.  To reach out to those who feel alone in whatever they are going through.  To offer them a piece of hope, and a sense of direction.  To empower, encourage, motivate, and inspire others to find their voice, and their purpose. To know that they are not alone in whatever they are going through. To start a movement.

Nostalgia & My Maiden Name

 

Let me begin by stating very clearly, that I love being Mrs. Beale. I have loved it for the last 4 years, and I will continue to love it for the rest of my life.

Sometimes though, I catch myself doodling my signature with my maiden name. I can’t quite put my finger on why. I signed that name for so long. Everyone in my hometown knew me by it. It was who I was for so many years.

Zoey Carmichael was a different person than Zoey Beale. She was single, she was a workaholic. She was proud, a little selfish, extremely impulsive, a dreamer, and ride or die type of best friend. She had a pottymouth. She played volleyball and softball. She sang solos in choir concerts. Her dance moves had once been described as similar to ‘a stripper with ADD’. Zoey Carmichael was Sami and Sabrina Carmichael’s sister.

Fast forward post marriage and baby.

Zoey Beale is a wife and mother. By day she changes diapers, packs lunches, kisses boo boos, works, brews lots of coffee, and by night she writes. She reads her bible, furiously scribbles in her journal, and she worries way too much. Her hips don’t quite swing the way they use to when she tries to dance. No, Zoey Beale has mom hips. She still loves her friends dearly, but is no longer able to drop everything on a whim to be there for them like she use to be.

Zoey Beale? Who?? Is she related to those Carmichael girls?

The thing is, I don’t like one Zoey more than the other.  Instead of viewing these two identities as separate, I prefer to see Zoey Beale as the grown-ass-woman version of Zoey Carmichael.  I have managed to hang on to a ton of qualities and quirks that Miss Carmichael carried.  Obviously I still have that potty mouth. I’m still a dreamer, impulsive, and will unfortunately be forever clumsy.  But I am so much smarter now, and I like that I am a little less selfish than I once was (being responsible to keep a tiny human alive will do that to you I suppose.)

I still have a couple of old high school shirts with CARMICHAEL written across the back. I will cherish those forever, and remember my glory days every time I wear them. But then, I look at my wedding band, and feel that these glory days are just as important, and bring to the surface the same type of pride in my heart. I am now simultaneously my husband’s wife and a Carmichael sister.  And that is a win-win if you ask me.