To each his own. To me my own.

Posts tagged “Writing

Going Up

I’ve been going into bloggie DT’s. True I’m sitting underneath a Carolina blue sky on a beautiful day, but the yearn to post something these past few days has more than gotten to me. For some reason on Sundays I always get either really nostalgic or fall into a semi state of depression. It is, after all, the day the weekend ends and I have to go back home to my worklife daily ritual. I’m very thankful for my ritual, my job and the whole nine yards, don’t get me wrong. It just pains me to see Friday into Saturday into Sunday, end.

Short of driving up to the mountains this weekend (we knew better, it’s prime weekend for the season so we’ll just exercise crowd-control) we’re planning to ride 5 minutes past K’s house to a local mountain, not near as high as it’s lofty counterparts but shall satisfy the ole’ mountain yearn nonetheless. It’s a state park called Crowder’s Mountain, and the mountain is only accessible through hiking. The last time I was up there, I was 6 months pregnant. It was me, my husband and another couple, the other lady was almost 9 months pregnant. It doesn’t take a glance backward to see how very stupid we were for attempting to climb a mountain that far into a pregnancy, but we all made it to the very top and came out okay. Twenty-three years later, I shall attempt it again – just not in tiptop shape this time so say a prayer for me. 🙂

We covered up K’s pool yesterday, another thing needing done but I think both of us dreaded. He just smiles and says awww every time I look our beyond the patio window and say how sad it is. Soon the trees will be barren, and everything will appear dead for several months. A Spring/Summer person I am. As hot of a Summer as we’ve had… I do try and soak up every little minute we have of the warm feel and look of those seasons.  

 


Daisy Chain

The following is actually from a little over a year ago, before my blogging days. I did not write the words, but over a fair amount of time did do the compilation – written from a variety of beloved sources and wise souls. I remember at the time, I was in a sense lost – feeling alone and blissfully unaware of my own purpose in life. My arrival at this point came from a failed 21-year marriage and the quest to ‘find myself’. I was comforted by the wise words, and found myself ever-searching of them.

Running across it brought back memories of being truly alone. Of the endless search for wisdom – of knowledge of who was fake and who was authentic; and the hopeful ability to discern the difference. I’m not changing any of the content, nor the order… and I do realize it’s scattered. But at the time, so was I.

______________________________________________________________________________

My best dreams and worst nightmares have the same people in them.

What is more the benefit? To love a person that is already loved by everyone, or to love a person that is rejected by everyone?
Hugging is healthy. It helps the immune system, cures depression, reduces stress, and induces sleep. It’s invigorating, rejuvenating & has no unpleasant side effects. It’s nothing less than a miracle drug. Hugging is all natural. It’s organic, naturally sweet, has no artificial ingredients, environmentally friendly & is 100% wholesome. Hugging is the ideal gift. Great for any occasion, fun to give & receive, shows you care, comes with its own wrapping paper and, of course, is fully returnable.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

We wait all these years to find someone who understands us… someone who accepts us as we are… someone with a wizard’s power to melt stone to sunlight… that can bring us happiness in spite of trials… that can face our dragons in the night… who can transform us into the soul we choose to be. Just yesterday I found that magical someone is the face we see in the mirror: It’s us and our homemade masks.

Happiness needs sadness. Success needs failure. Benevolence needs evil. Love needs hatred. Victory needs defeat. Pleasure needs pain.

You must experience and accept the extremes. Because if the contrast is lost, you lose appreciation; and when you lose appreciation, you lose the value of everything.

Of the Seven Deadly Sins, anger is possibly the most fun. To lick your wounds, to smack your lips over grievances long past, to roll over your tongue the prospect of bitter confrontations still to come, to savor to the last toothsome morsel of both the pain you are given and the pain you are giving back – in many ways it is a feast fit for a king. The chief drawback is that what you are wolfing down is yourself. The skeleton at the feast is you.

Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret.

Forgiveness does not overlook the deed. It rises above it.
It always amazes me to see people making a decision to never forgive. It’s like trying to punish their tormentors by harming themselves. In the long run, it’s not a question of whether they deserve to be forgiven. You’re not forgiving them for their sake. You’re doing it for yourself. For your own health and well being, forgiveness is simply the most energy-efficient option. It frees you from the incredibly toxic, debilitating drain of holding a grudge. Don’t let these people live rent free in your head. If they hurt you before, why let them keep doing it year after year in your mind? It’s not worth it but it takes heart effort to stop it. You can muster that heart power to forgive them as a way of looking out for yourself. It’s one thing you can be totally selfish about.

I’ve always heard to live everyday as if it was your last. I disagree. I think you should live everyday as if it was your first, where everything is new and exciting. You try new things, and you’re not waiting for your life to end – you’re waiting for it to begin.

Your friends are your release. They’re who you have the most fun with, and yet when the going gets tough, those people turn around and suddenly they’re not just making you laugh, they’re being this rock and giving you all their advice. Even though you’re so much your own person, if you dissect yourself, I guarantee you, your friends are in there. Their influence is incredible. However rare true love may be, it is less so than true friendship.

You’ll never know how much you needed your friends until you look back along the rope and realize how many knots they tied to keep you from Falling. I don’t want someone to catch me when I fall; I want someone to stop me before I do.

Someday someone might come into your life and love you the way you’ve always wanted. If your someday was yesterday, learn. If your someday is tomorrow, hope. If your someday is today, cherish.

Walking away isn’t the hard part – it’s not looking back.

Tears are words the heart can’t say.

I tried to conquer the Universe, but it defeated me.
I tried to capture the Universe, but it eluded me.
I tried to understand the Universe, but it outwitted me.
So, clumsily, hesitantly, I tried to love the Universe,
And it embraced me.

Does anyone else find it amazing that during the mad cow epidemic our government could track a single cow, born in Canada almost three years ago, right to the stall where she slept in the state of Washington? And, they tracked her calves to their stalls. But they are unable to locate 11 million illegal aliens wandering around our country. Maybe we should give each of them a cow.

Sooner or later you have to make a choice…leave behind your passion, your dreams – or have the strength to look past all discouraging faces and look at yourself and know that you have what it takes… and you will prove them wrong.

To love requires courage, the ability to take a risk, the readiness even to accept pain and disappointment. Whoever insists on safety and security as primary conditions of life cannot love; whoever shuts himself off in a system of defense and possession as his means of security, makes himself a prisoner.

Never assume greatness is for someone else. Imagine every day that you too can do great things. Have the courage to take the challenge, make the mistakes, and move forward. Who knows, maybe one day someone will be sharing your moment with you.


Remember when…

It is a day of somber remembrance for every American. A day which we should take every opportunity to be thankful for our lives, our freedom and our God-given rights as an American citizen.

Oh, how I do love a good writer. Since the day I found this, I’ve waited almost a whole year to repost it. I wanted to repost it on the very day that would collide with it’s memory… that most fateful day in American History.

September 11, 2001.

Leonard Pitts, a 2004 Pulitzer Prizewinning columnist of the Miami Herald, gained national recognition for this widely circulated column that ran on that most bleak and numb day of September 12, 2001. Please, if you’ve never read this, take a minute. Listen, learn and remember.

We’ll Go Forward From This Moment 

It’s my job to have something to say. They pay me to provide words that help make sense of that which troubles the American soul. But in this moment of airless shock when hot tears sting disbelieving eyes, the only thing I can find to say, the only words that seem to fit, must be addressed to the unknown author of this suffering.

You monster. You beast. You unspeakable bastard.

What lesson did you hope to teach us by your coward’s attack on our World Trade Center, our Pentagon, us? What was it you hoped we would learn? Whatever it was, please know that you failed.

Did you want us to respect your cause? You just damned your cause.
Did you want to make us fear? You just steeled our resolve.
Did you want to tear us apart? You just brought us together.

Let me tell you about my people. We are a vast and quarrelsome family, a family rent by racial, social, political and class division, but a family nonetheless. We’re frivolous, yes, capable of expending tremendous emotional energy on pop cultural minutiae – a singer’s revealing dress, a ball team’s misfortune, a cartoon mouse. We’re wealthy, too, spoiled by the ready availability of trinkets and material goods, and maybe because of that, we walk through life with a certain sense of blithe entitlement. We are fundamentally decent, though – peaceful, loving, and compassionate. We struggle to know the right thing and to do it. And we are, the overwhelming majority of us, people of faith, believers in a just and loving God.

Some people — you, perhaps — think that any or all of this makes us weak. You’re mistaken. We are not weak. Indeed, we are strong in ways that cannot be measured by arsenals.

IN PAIN

Yes, we’re in pain now. We are in mourning and we are in shock. We’re still grappling with the unreality of the awful thing you did, still working to make ourselves understand that this isn’t a special effect from some Hollywood blockbuster, isn’t the plot development from a Tom Clancy novel. Both in terms of the awful scope of their ambition and the probable final death toll, your attacks are likely to go down as the worst acts of terrorism in the history of the United States and, probably, the history of the world. You’ve bloodied us as we have never been bloodied before.

But there’s a gulf of difference between making us bloody and making us fall. This is the lesson Japan was taught to its bitter sorrow the last time anyone hit us this hard, the last time anyone brought us such abrupt and monumental pain. When roused, we are righteous in our outrage, terrible in our force. When provoked by this level of barbarism, we will bear any suffering, pay any cost, go to any length, in the pursuit of justice.

I tell you this without fear of contradiction. I know my people, as you, I think, do not. What I know reassures me. It also causes me to tremble with dread of the future.

In the days to come, there will be recrimination and accusation, fingers pointing to determine whose failure allowed this to happen and what can be done to prevent it from happening again. There will be heightened security, misguided talk of revoking basic freedoms. We’ll go forward from this moment sobered, chastened, sad. But determined, too. Unimaginably determined.

THE STEEL IN US

You see, the steel in us is not always readily apparent. That aspect of our character is seldom understood by people who don’t know us well. On this day, the family’s bickering is put on hold. As Americans we will weep, as Americans we will mourn, and as Americans, we will rise in defense of all that we cherish.

So I ask again: What was it you hoped to teach us? It occurs to me that maybe you just wanted us to know the depths of your hatred. If that’s the case, consider the message received.

And take this message in exchange:
-You don’t know my people.
-You don’t know what we’re capable of.
-You don’t know what you just started.

But you’re about to learn.

©Leonard Pitts, September 12, 2001


Thoughts on a letter to one’s self

I was perusing around in freshly pressed and found a post that was mega-intriguing. This blogger submitted an excellent post (and a few of her other friends have followed suit) titled ‘A Letter to my 16-year-old Self’. She calls the idea simul-blogging, in which the topic is laid on the table, and those interested will semi-simultaneously post on that same topic. Now, as nostalgic as the old Bonster is, you can rest assured that I’m not gonna be able to leave this little diddy just sitting there. With that said, my next dilemma lies in whether or not I can bridge such a large age gap from the present all the way back to sixteen. After all, these ladies only have to go back 10 years or so with their letter – whereas if I go back in time to age sixteen it’ll be more like (oh crap where’s my calculator) I’d likely need a time-machine. In all seriousness though, I’d be going back twenty-six years.

Actually… I think that’s doable. In fact, maybe it’ll put a little different spin on things since there’s so much post-sixteen to write about. Hmmm. The more I think about it – I like it, and the fact that I have a few years under my belt that I may now use as ‘material’. Yeah.

Buckle your seatbelts, boys and girls – this could be a bumpy ride.

Check out Katie’s post above – it’s a fabulous one and very deserving of freshly pressed status. Any of you out there interested in giving this a whirl?


If you really knew me…

Even recently, I’ve seen a few posts of this kind. I find them intriguing, and thought I’d take a stab at it myself. I’ll be the first to admit it really worked the ole’ brain a bit. If nothing else, it forced me to take a step back and take a good look at myself – which isn’t a bad idea to do from time to time…

If you really knew me, you would know: That every day I make a valiant effort to laugh heartily at least once. Laughing is my favorite thing in the world to do, and nothing else has ever matched the euphoric feeling it brings me.

And over here, in the darker corner… we have the times that I laugh in order to keep from crying.

If you really knew me, you would know: That I despise a blatant liar. Unless I believe the truth will really hurt your feelings, I’ll be completely honest with you. I know there are exceptions that run the gamut on this… with that said, I simply cannot justify not getting that same truth in return.

If you really knew me, you would know: That I’m really somewhat of a loner. I hate crowds and even large groups of people. I would be perfectly content to come home from work on a Friday afternoon and not leave my condo again until Monday morning.

If you really knew me, you would know: That as cliche as it may sound, all I’ve really ever wanted in life is to be loved. Totally, completely, wholly and without reserve. I believe this particular type of love to be easily recognizable by it’s recipient.

If you really knew me, you would know: That my tolerance for small children is marginal at best. Not just any small children… but the small children of today’s world. The children who are bribed, petted and spoiled by today’s parents in order to semi-behave.

If you really knew me, you would know: I love the ocean and it’s inhabitants so much so, that I can get really emotional just talking about it if I allow myself.

If you really knew me, you would know: That I abhor drama – in any way, shape or form. If you bring drama close to me and I see it for what it is, I will most certainly turn my back on you and walk away. Because I can.

If you really knew me, you would know: That the ability to write means everything to me. It doesn’t matter to me that I don’t write professionally. If I go one single day without writing something, anything – I feel like a huge part of me is missing.

If you really knew me, you would know: That I’m very opinionated on two subjects: politics and religion. It really doesn’t pay for me to argue the subject of either one, because I’ll stop at nothing to prove my point. By then, my blood pressure has usually skyrocketed past the safe zone.

If you really knew me, you would know: That I’m one of those dreaded perfectionists. I struggle daily with this debilitating trait that so often makes my life more difficult than it should be.

If you really knew me, you would know: That I strongly uphold marriage vows, and I believe that there are ZERO excuses for infidelity within a marriage. The pain that results from this type of cowardly betrayal may lessen with time, but the scars will remain forever.

If you really knew me, you would know: That I feel just as strongly about domestic violence. In fact, maybe even more so. I’ll have to get back with you on that one.

If you really knew me, you would know: That I worry way too much of what others think of me. I do know I’ve literally spent a lifetime trying to reroute this warped way of thinking. At this point, any improvement in this area is looking kinda shady.

And over here, in the lighter corner… I’ve come to realize that shade trees sometimes provide an incandescent lift



The Picture

After a hearty Cracker Barrel breakfast on Sunday morning, K suggested driving down to the newest indoor fleamarket to walk some of the food off, to which I happily obliged.

There was no agenda, nor any certain thing we were looking for. The few times we’ve been to the place (ah, air-conditioning is a must) we’ve come away empty-handed – but it’s all good. K loves antiques, and is quite educated about them. Honestly, for me, it’s the walking around together and ‘discovering things’ with each other that matters so – it seems to go unsaid that he feels the same way. So we walk, hold hands and talk, and look… and happen upon it

The print is entitled, Making Friends. The artist is Burton Dye, and the debut date was 1986. Same graduation year, and same high school… yes, yet more nostalgia.

K just finished remodeling his own bedroom, and in doing so moved into a larger room in his house. The color of paint he chose was a light to medium sort of periwinkle blue – it hints of blue, gray and lavender, and translates to airy and soothing. In combination with his dark furniture and just the right amount of beautiful sunlight the room gets, it was an exquisite choice.

Making Friends ~ ©Burton Dye 1986

Flashback to the picture. There it sat, amongst it’s competition, all of which were neatly lined along the floor of the vendor. Just like magnets, both of us were instantly drawn to this one. Print no. 1241 of 1900, it said – and it was very much in mint condition. Still in it’s original frame and matte, the wood frame has two tiny periwinkle blue pinstripes down all four sides that matches the matte – these were only visible up close.

The print is an image of a small boy with blonde hair, sitting along the shore of a riverbank to feed a flock of geese and goslings. The boy’s portrayal in the print is nothing less than that of pure innocence. I have yet to share my own perception of the art with K.

Shown is a young, innocent boy – soon to be in search of the finer things in life, which Capricorns are so noted for – but also appreciating the simple things. His love for animals is well-noted… as well as his love for the water – and fishing. The boy’s youth still leaves much to the imagination, such a large future lies ahead of him. With the comparable difference being light brown instead of blonde hair, I think the profile of this young lad so very closely coincides with that of K’s own childhood pictures. I think it’s fair to say this print has captured a piece of my heart for many years to come now…


A Voice

I have a good friend that’s decided to bite the bullet and start blogging. Not only is she an extremely smart and beautiful lady, but well-versed. I’m willing to bet she will enjoy it – and I look forward to reading. I’ll be sure to cue you in on the page when she gets it up and running.

Many of us have been subjected to broken trust and loyalty throughout our lives – some more than others. The last thing you need is to keep it all to yourself… what you need is to be heard. An outlet, a source which you may unload on every once in a while. A while back I suggested that a blog might be the very venue my friend needed. It provides an opportunity to be heard, a chance to voice anything and/or everything you’ve wanted to say for a long time now. She asked me ‘do you think the word bitch in my title would be offensive and draw negative feedback?’ To which I replied chuckling, ‘ya know, there’s always going to be something that offends someone out there.’ And that’s true, no matter what.

It got me to thinking about life in general, and how it is we’ve arrived at the point of being a functioning adult human being… exactly what it is that has made up the mindset, emotions and character of who we are now. Do I believe that we continually change throughout life? Yes. Do I believe that what we’ve been through in the past actually shapes the person we are today, as well as the person we are to become? Absolutely. We will not be the exact same person a year from now as we are today. These changes will be determined by the events and occurrences within our lives, and how we choose to react or deal with them. Like my grandmother always told me… ‘bunny-rabbit…it ain’t always easy’.


My Freshly Pressed Appreciation

Each weekday, my beloved blogging site WordPress handpicks eleven blog writers to be featured on their front page. Eleven. Out of Millions. They refer to these chosen blogs as “Freshly Pressed”.

This past Monday, 21st of June, was the day. My day. The blog I had written, Summer Solstice, was chosen to be featured in the much-coveted Freshly Pressed section – the headline page of WordPress. I sat there with unbelieving eyes when I received the email stating I had made it.

Little old me making Freshly Pressed status? The news hit me like a bombshell. Many have long sought after and still continue to seek this temporary but prestigious spot. I know enough to be extremely appreciative of it – and I am. I never expected to ever be cast in such a prominent spotlight, and was completely unprepared for the many extras that accompanied the ‘status lift’. I had well over a thousand hits the first day, along with many comments, pingbacks and requotes. I value highly the many public opinions and inquiries that were made, and remain so very deeply humbled.

I’ve always loved to write and those closest to me are aware of how very deep that love goes. One thing’s for sure – this experience has showed me there’s a whole other world out there… one in which the possibilities are endless.

Thank you, WordPress – and all you readers and writers out there who make the site what it is.


Murky water

I recently resolved myself to the fact that I wouldn’t write anything if I didn’t have anything to talk about. I don’t like to hear myself talk that much. So….

Here’s my little poem for the day.

I want ☀
Instead I have  ☂
I’ll give you the ☽
If you’ll put me on a ✈

Okay, I should’ve quit while I was ahead.


New Year, New Beginnings

2009 – a colorful year it’s been for me. In addition to my love for the ocean, there’s actually a hidden reason behind why I chose my particular banner picture, which I pasted a copy of below.

Color.

Those who know me know that my ‘word of the year’ chosen to represent 2008 was Monumental. 2008 was my year of change, a change that required an extreme strength and perseverance – the type of strength I thought never could exist in me. For this reason I believe the word Monumental to be ever so fitting for that year.

I find it just as fitting to associate the word Colorful with my year of 2009. In this little rainbow prismatic year of mine, I’ve basically created a complete series of making mistakes and learning from them. But never mind the mistakes I’ve made, or the repercussions from them – I still have to look back and smile, at all of it. I’ve come to realize how I’ve grown and have been made a better person now, by just having been associated with some new people that came in and out of my life.

I look at it this way. 2008, the last half of it anyway, started out as a shockwave. Fast-forward to sorrow, self-pity, and finally moving into that godforsaken lonely empty feeling. As I moved into 2009, the search was on. For what… I didn’t know. I was however reaching out for something, with arms wide open. I found that, like a butterfly who had just discovered her wings, the world was mine for the taking. The territory left unchartered was endless. So many opportunities, and so much lost time. Nope – the objects I landed on weren’t always in my best interest. I’ve taken much from these experiences though – through weathering the storms and learning some pretty hard lessons. I’ve found that it’s how we react and learn from our mistakes that will determine our success in life, or lack of it.

Hmm. Can’t help but wonder what my word of 2010 will be.

Banner picture for 2009