Kimber Goodwin
Bio
I have a burning desire to make a difference in the world and believe I can do so; for we are as powerful as we allow ourselves to be. My power happens to be the light I hold and I plan to spread that light in as many ways as I can.
Stories (10)
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The Dreamer
This is a story about a dreamer; a story about a small-town girl with aspirations so high many people did not find them realistic. Janelle was the shy child in the classroom usually quiet and seemed to be in her own little world. The teachers saw her uniqueness and Janelle was asked to join the gifted and talented classes. She was an innocent soul with a brilliant mind that she didn’t even realize she held. When Janelle reached middle school, she faced many traumatic events due to losing many family members and things began to change. Janelle started to rebel and the once shy; once innocent little girl was now lost, scared, and confused. Janelle had always felt things deeply despite her upbringing in a “tough” family and although that meant she felt much joy in even the small things she was also feeling much pain in darkness of the world. Not only had she always felt different and out of place but now she also felt alone and wondered why these things were happening to her. Janelle made it through these times though. They weren’t the easiest times, but even on the darkest days Janelle knew she had to continue to push forward and even when it felt lost, she knew she could never completely lose her faith. Janelle graduated high school and even received some scholarships to help her start her journey into college. Janelle worked three jobs and went to school and continued to refuse to give up. She didn’t know where exactly she was going, but she did know there was something in store for her and people were relying on her strength. There were many obstacles on Janelle’s adult journey. She faced losing her first true love and had to leave her life and home and start over. She met another man that was a narcissist and abused her emotionally and sexually. Janelle was always a strong independent person, but by the time she realized what kind of relationship she was in she was married with a child. She would now go through a divorce and a criminal case due from the injuries she endured. She was now raising her precious two-year-old son on her own and struggling to stay afloat both financially and mentally. However, through all of these things, Janelle received her Associates of Arts Degree, Bachelor of Science Degree majoring in Psychology, and worked as an adult mental health caseworker for a year. Janelle refused to give up; there was still something she was chasing, even if she didn’t know exactly what it was, it was there and she knew it was important and beautiful. After the year of being a caseworker Janelle began to grow tired. There were many battles she had faced in that year and she knew she had to change something or she was going to lose her inner fight. There had never been a time in Janelle’s life where she ever questioned giving up, that simply wasn’t an option. There were many sleepless nights and numerous moments of exhaustion, but her soul was always strong and motivated. Now she was facing a tired soul; something she had never experienced before. Janelle applied for the Master's Program for Social Work and began exploring different parts of herself on, what some would call, a soul-searching journey. In the living room there was a little black book that Janelle had put on the table by the couch to look at later and had never found the time to sit down and read it. Janelle fell onto the couch in hopelessness, opened the book and began reading. When I say this was a little black book, I mean that in reference to the size of the book physically not the number of pages it held; it was rather lengthy. The cover was missing from the book it was solid black and did not have a title, an author, or any references inside of it. Janelle had found this book in a box of things someone had put on the curb for the trash. In her free time Janelle enjoyed collecting things people were giving away, or putting on the curb, to rehome them to people in need. This is what lead her to pick up this box that contained this little black book. The book helped Janelle find herself, her connection to the Universe, her connection to the Higher Power she calls God, and it also helped her find her dreams. Janelle followed every step, word for word, that the little black book told her to do. She had a journal where she would write down the understandings and information, she learned about herself and her dreams. Janelle began to understand her purpose and just how much light she could spread into rather dark world. This is when she began painting her mental image of the dreams she had been, and would continue, to chase. There is a movie called Same Kind of Different as Me and this heartfelt movie had always been an inspiration to Janelle; “What would Mrs. Debbie do?” is the question she would ask herself in many situations. Being an adult mental health caseworker Janelle had touched many lives, and even saved some. She knew her dreams were related to helping others; of all the questions she had this held no doubt. If you haven’t seen the movie, I won’t spoil it for you in hopes that you will watch it, but Mrs. Debbie had a dream to help the homeless. Janelle sat in silence night after night contemplating what her dream looked like. She pictured a place where people that struggled to maintain a job could share their beautiful art work whether that be writing, painting, music, refurbished furniture, etc.. There are so many people in this world that are beautifully gifted, yet struggle to maintain a steady job due to mental health and support. Janelle wanted to change this; she wanted to not only spread her light but help spread the light of others, as well as, build them up and give them purpose. Janelle pictured an old 2 story home that she could remodel and turn into the place she dreams of; She would name the place of her dreams iBelieve Im-Possible. There would be the giftshop, a room for donations, a room with a TV and library area, a little café area where drinks and snacks could be sold and even peoples artfully made meals or deserts, if they chose to sell them there. Janelle had visions of having classes and groups in the evenings to help educate and support others. As these thoughts flowed into Janelle’s mental image she smiled and lived in that moment, in that place of her dreams, for quite some time. Although she had found her dream, and she envisioned this dream in such great detail, Janelle knew how far and hard she would have to work to reach it. Hard work and time seemed trivial to Janelle with this place in her mental vision she knew she had to push on; for she had a lighthouse to build. A month went by and Janelle had been continuously obtaining more ideas and learning more about herself daily with the help of the little black book. Then the night came when she sat down to read the ending. Janelle had been struggling throughout the day thinking about her dreams and asking herself if this was even a realistic journey to contemplate. Like always, Janelle managed to hold onto her faith and began reading the ending of the book. As she came across the last couple pages, she realized there was something in the back of the book. Janelle ignored it, telling herself she would see it when she got to the end, even though she was full of curiosity. On the last page the book stated, “If you have come to the end of this book, I can assume you are dedicated to your dreams; for if not a dreamer you would not have had the interest to read this many pages that contain no answers, but ways for you to find your answers. I wrote this book in hopes that it would find the right person and with my trust in the Universe I believe that it has done just that. I myself was a dreamer and the Universe brought me a mentor. Oh, the beautiful things I was able to accomplish with my dreams. I’ve shared my light. Now it’s your turn to share yours. I haven’t shared my name, and I won’t, that is not important. This book is not published and there is not another one like it; it’s the one and only. I pray it has found the hands of a soul so bright that your dreams flourish and maybe pay it forward when the time is right. On the inside of the back cover there is a paper tucked behind the paper covering it. Remove the paper and you will find the blue posted note that contains the name of a bank and the information you should give them to receive the $20,000 I have chosen to give you. If you chose to use this money for your own self-fulfillment, I will never know. I do, however, believe the Universe has better taste in dreamers than that and I do believe you have dreams to chase. Flashlights are not needed at the back of the room; they are needed at the front to shine the light and lead the way. Now go forth and lead this world to see and share the light you hold; for that’s the true gold.” Janelle grabbed the piece of paper and dialed her friends' number that is a real-estate agent as she walked out the door. “Hey Janelle what’s up?” said Jackie with Kelley Relators. Janelle responded, “I have a dream to manifest. Can you help me?” With a smile on her face and tears in her eyes, Janelle was no longer chasing, but following her dreams thanks to the anonymous writer of the little black book. For the first time in her life Janelle did not feel alone, lost, scared, or out of place. Janelle felt connected, bright, confident, and doing exactly what Mrs. Debbie would do.
By Kimber Goodwin5 years ago in Motivation
Brother in the Stars
Brother in the stars i know you know where you are. But can you tell me is it far? Do you see me from afar? This worlds gotten dark but I keep my light on can you see it where you are? I feel you in my heart so light and so bright thats you right? I search for you when things arent going right to keep my light from going dim. Its hard to find a lighthouse when sailing the sea when theres no light to see. I keep the flame so you dont lose sight of me while your sailing the sea. Brother in the starts thanks for protecting me wherever you are.
By Kimber Goodwin5 years ago in Poets
This One's for You
This ones for you. The one I stumbled into with a simple mind and intentions so blind I cant say they were mine. Along the way the fog began to fade and my vision changed. Id be lying if I said that girl and the one today are even close to the same. This ones for you. The one that touched my soul before things got out of control. You found a part of me I couldn't have found on my own. When I was weak you were strong and when I was afraid you were safe. This ones for you. The one I used in my mental escape. When the world was too heavy and I was lost and afraid there was a place I would escape. My subconscious state were I was no longer afraid was a magical place in your embrace. This ones for you. The one that showed me love without ever loving me. Although the fairy tale ending isn't what I have I now know that fairy tales come from truths to be told. I'm now aware that old souls roam and with that I can be content knowing I'm not the only one away from home. This ones for you. The one that I used to paint the pretty picture that kept the light within aflame when the darkness was hard to contain. I have you to thank for the woman I am and strive to maintain. This ones to you. The one I wont hold physically but will forever hold in my memory for if it wasn't for you there wouldn't be a me to be true. This ones for you and I thank you for being you.
By Kimber Goodwin5 years ago in Poets
Testing Time
I'm in my head all I see is red. I feel this pain but I don't bleed. Am I real? Do I feel? Or is this an illusion? Is it real? They say time heals but then give me some pills. Do I deal or do I mask? What used to be wrong seems to be the new way I'm told to heal. Everyone's masking from their feels to their faces; its all covered. Why does everything feel so heavy; so dark. The suns shining yet the tunnel visions so foggy. Can't see my thoughts outside my head got me feelin like I'm brain dead. I need a flashlight just to find myself. Find a pen write it down see how my thoughts sound. Read them aloud just to hear myself. Does it sound real? Are these mine or did I absorb theirs? What's me, what's them, where's the line? How do I stay true to me when I'm what I cant find? Take the pills relax... We're just testin time..
By Kimber Goodwin5 years ago in Poets
Listen Deeper
Can you hear her crying? I know its faint but if you pay close attention and listen carefully you'll hear the cries she tries so hard to hide. Can you see the pain? I know she smiles and laughs and wears a suite of armor but if you keep your eyes on her you'll catch a glimpse of the pain she carries. Can you see the loneliness she feels? I know she's surrounded by so many that love her and rely on her in their weakest moments but if you catch her when the worlds still you'll see its just her alone with her mind playin tricks on her worth. Can you see the brokenness? I know she seems so strong and together but when the door closes and none's looking at her to show them how to hold it together that put together puzzle isn't quite the picture she painted for everyone to see. Can you see the weight on her shoulders? I know she seems so carefree and walks with ease but if you get her to turn around you'll see the baggage she carries and although she makes it look easy even the toughest get tired. You know you can call her and she'll drop the world to tend your needs but when its her ringing the phone she painted a pretty picture where no-one worries about her strength so she's put off until later... What's later bring?...
By Kimber Goodwin5 years ago in Poets
The Once Broken Woman
There's pain with every step I take that makes me question if it was my mistake. The vivid memories of the horrid day where my dignity was ripped away replays in my mind with each cringing moment of the day. I've been strong; I've been weak. I've been loved; I've been betrayed. I've now been torn down and broken. I've now been used and abused. But I've also been changed. I now begin a journey of growth that I can handcarve into a sculpture of beauty made out of the broken pieces of a once strong, once weak woman. The old me is gone but a new me will rise and when she does she will be the most unique piece of art that has arose from a pile of shattered pain. The pain will always be remembered, for it will be what she is made from, but the beauty and strength holding that pain together will be so glorious it will outshine every ounce of pain she has ever endured. I idol this woman that I will be and I will not let that be ripped away from me.
By Kimber Goodwin5 years ago in Poets
