I really don’t understand why a subconjuctival hemmorage can spark my writing juices? What is a subconjuctival hemmorage you ask? Basically, it’s when a blood vessel bursts in the eye. Nothing serious thankfully.
Last Sunday, is when this crisis began, with the outer corner of my right eye the color of hot sauce. The initial discovery was frightening, but in the next couple, even more frightening. This was no joke!
Each day, I woke up thinking it would start to fade, but each day I woke up and startled myself at what I saw in the mirror. I looked like a zombie! I finally went to see the eye doctor on day 5 and although I’m grateful this wasn’t an infection, he told me I would only have to put up with the red eye for another week. Another week!
I decided staying home alone in my bedroom away from my roommates was the best solution until the isolation got to me, I felt like I did when I had covid. It was NOT a good feeling.
Here I am on day 6 and 99.5 % of my eye is still red, but it’s starting to feel less raw, at least. And I did finally go out…wearing sunglasses, lol.
I don’t know why it took a sort of crisis, a “forced” Friday evening home for me to stop the busyness cycle? If I say I enjoy writing, why isn’t it part of my daily life more? Why don’t I fill out a day on my calendar for it or even an hour a week to write? Why a red-eye to spark the flame?
*sigh
Anyway, I hope all y’all clear-eyed people are doing well and I also hope that you are doing the something that feeds your soul. Plan for it. Do it. Don’t let it take a subconjuctival hemmorage or other minor crisis to spark the juice. Be better than me!
Those who know me understand that I love chocolate to a possibly dysfunctional level.
I own that. I know chocolate isn’t the answer to life’s big problems, but neither are a lot of other things in the world.
I’m just enjoying what the dark yummy substance adds to my life.
This post is not meant in any way to give hints for gift giving, necessarily, but more as an encouragement to enjoy some of the good things in life!
Another reason for this post is to share an imperfect outcome of a chocolate diy , I made cocoa bombs! They came out looking imperfect, but it was fun making them and looks don’t matter, they tasted great!
I neither like insects nor hate them. I just accept that I have to live with them especially since I live in Texas currently.
Mind you, in its infancy, I’ve already made it angry or afraid for its life by batting at it which with a spider is not necessarily the best idea because then it hides….and grows!
What I won’t accept is that there is a tiny spider that currently resides in my car. It was so tiny a few days ago that I needed my readers to see that it was actually a spider. Today, I can clearly see it without using my glasses, ugh, so it’s developing, growing into what some day could be a larger one!
So, I’ve been thinking about what to do. Because I’m not a killer of life if there’s another way to deal with it, which I haven’t thought of, so unless someone has an idea, I’m taking my vehicle to the dealership where they will clean the interior and I hope it gets sucked into its next life!
If I don’t act now, I will have a bigger problem on my hands and I just can’t.
I didn’t win the pinwheel contest, after looking at my pinwheel again, I could see why. No matter, for my next contest, the pumpkin painting contest!
I enjoy chocolate, especially dark chocolate. That is what inspired me. I hope you guessed either a candied Apple or a chocolate covered cherry. Regardless, again I had fun participating.
Life is too hard not to have fun or at least participate in. Just try.
I lost my Dad October 1, 2021 and my Mom on October 3, 2018. Autumn is a bittersweet time for me, I love it and have some hard memories in it. So, that’s why I try… to have fun.
Dear beautiful, grey, mild, temperate, and moody Seattle,
Remember when we first met? I was the girl with a ready smile and wave. That is how I arrived. Unaware, talkative and naive, but eager nonetheless.
You wooed me with your water, delicious and sweet.
You freshened me with your breeze, crisp and floral.
Summer came and more gifts you bestowed.
Mountains unveiled and waters blued. Forests came alive, vegetation unearthed.
Elms, Spruce, Cherry trees and Douglas fir cover the land.
Rosemary, daffodils and tulips fed my nose on my daily walks.
Later, dasies, multi-colored roses, and rododendrons colored the land.
Diablo, dahlias, hydrangea and lilies clothed in vibrancy.
As my eyes scanned the flora, my thoughts rose upward to the Creator
Skies of pink, and shimmering gold braiding the most blue skies.
Then came the fall with its rusty hue and chill. It came to stay and chased the sun away. The dark and grey days began and quickly wore out their welcome.
Winter ensued, leaves falling staging the piney greens. Morning dew crystalized leaves and giving runners a smokey breath.
Inside, blankets and books littered the table while cocoa warmed the hands.
The longing for flowers became a constant dream. I can’t wait until they come…are they here yet? Will today’s sun hold any warmth?
Day after bone chilling day and skin’s tan all the way faded, body fattened and hiding in thickened fibers.
But even then, the beauty remained.
On a rare sunny morning, I glimpsed the mountains in all their “Swiss” beauty They waved a hello and longed for a visitor.
When I bared the cold, and shared the crispy paths with others, I filled my lungs with sharp, biting winds which helped clear the past.
In the wind, I heard, “You’re released.”
I smiled with parched lips, but teared up as the season wrapped up, a promise of another spring affirmed.
I stood…gazing again, stopping. Not wanting to turn away, I looked on, imagining the return of a season in Seattle and realizing then that I would miss next years bloom.
So, I’ve noticed my blog has not yet been shut down or abandoned me… I feared it would put me in a time-out corner for not visiting, but alas, it’s still here, faithful. Coooool….
I have a lot to say and nothing being that I’m clam-like. I’m wondering if better writers are more open? OR, maybe what I should’ve done to begin with is used a pseudonym, (now I get it….)
So, on to the non-open topics of which may not attract so much attention, but which I choose to write in my “non-pseudonymed” state:
The sun has not, yet abandoned Seattle. It yet shines. Yay.
I’ve come to enjoy calling two to three places home, but, technology has yet to catch up with my desires to clone myself.
The process of making big life changes resembles the pace of rush hour traffic.
These 8 things are good for my body or soul: prayer, exercise, yoga, outdoors, quiet time, 2 happy hour drinks, moderate sugar and writing.
Of the things in list 4 that are healthy, I often need good company, encouragement or a kick in the ass to do them.
Stress kills the mind, body, desire, energy and creativity.
God still speaks. His latest: “Do not forget to whom you belong.”
I woke up refreshed because I slept. It’s amazing the difference solid sleep can have. And so, today, I’m finally able to write. I’ve been wanting yc.to write a sort of spiritual mission statement. These days, people write books, tweets, or put up articles that show who they are and what they believe. They face persecution for their beliefs whether they are left or right winged. They are judged, challenged, insulted and in the worst news cases, they are killed and this has been true for centuries.
But, what about me? Where do I stand you ask? What do you want me to stand for? What will I march for? These are all good questions and in the state of the world, many are searching for solidarity, followers and like-minded thinkers. I get that.
So, today, having a bit more head space, I decided to write. Not to mention, Sunday’s are the day I allow myself time to think, contemplate, ponder, wonder, envision, dream and grieve. I’m not a part of any congregation currently, but that doesn’t mean I don’t worship, pray or have communion with God, my guide, my companion.
So, to answer the question, I’m a Christian, meaning that I attempt to follow in the ways of Christ as written in the bible. I’m not a perfect follower, nor do I believe any human can be a perfect follower. But I choose to have faith. Basically, faith is believing in what you can’t see. I understand what a stretch Christianity can be and how those who believe are believing in a “virgin-birthed” human who performed unbelievable miracles among other things, like walking on water and such. I get how these things go against any branch of science. The good news is, you have a choice! God is “pro-choice” in that way, he will never force you to believe in him, because force, continual unhealthy coercion and other non-loving tactics go against love, God’s love. But, regardless, I choose by faith, to believe. You can call me a believer.
So, just relax everyone! No true Christian will take your arm and bend it unnaturally in attempt to have you follow. (Sure there are extremists in every religion) A true Christ follower will love you no matter where you are, who you are, and whether you follow in Jesus’s way or not. There is no fear in love, perfect love casts out fear.
If you find yourself curious, seeking, lost or broken or have found yourself feeling disconnected, (as I have) there’s a reason and an answer in many books. But, the truth remains, you have a choice to seek for an answer, for love and this is your journey alone.
It was the decision to follow in the way of Jesus that began my walk with a God. A walk is an active practice. But, there’s also sitting in silence and listening as well. God speaks, but his voice is inaudible, however, he speaks in abundance, if you’re listening.
Thirty-one years ago, and despite many ups and downs in my walk, it still seems to good to be true, to be loved me just as I am. That I didn’t have to perform, earn or give up anything to receive his love. But there was one requirement it seemed. And here’s the part where faith comes in. If I was to be a follower of Christ, then I needed to understand his whole story. That not only was he human, but also God. I realized that it would take faith, not human knowledge to believe that God sent a son, his only son to earth to live as a human and eventually end up dying a terrible death on a cross and later rising defeating death to save all of humanity. I was like, “What the?” Growing up catholic, I’d been raised going to a somber church, reciting prayers while being reminded of how Jesus died. I would say the catholic prayers, looking up occasionally to see the cross and Jesus, bloody, hanging on it.
Well, after attending the young adult bible study and reading the bible myself, I learned that there was more to Jesus’s story. That him hanging on a cross was only part of it. He didn’t stay dead. He rose. That is what Easter is about, not some chocolate bunny and egg finding holiday. There is a God that is alive. He lives.
Anyway, that is my humble beginning with the faith and 31 years later, I’m frustrated because of social media, I have been feeling compelled to share my faith, to profess my faith and beliefs, but I knew what would come next, I’d be damned if I did and damned if I didn’t. My relationship with God had always been a very personal relationship, so to put it out there where others will judge it or misinterpret it wasn’t worth it for me.
But, now, more recently, I’ve come to peace about my beliefs. In part it came from living in a liberal city where uniqueness is celebrated. Sure, the opposite is also true. Thankfully, I’ve had the opportunity to live in many places across the US. So, I’ve had to think and reflect about who I am and what I stand for continually. So there it is. I follow Jesus. Jesus is the personification of love. So, if he is about all things love, then I need to attempt to be as well by his empowerment.
What a challenge in this world to be about all things love!
But, there is the challenge. The greatest commandment, to love God and to love others as yourself.
In case you never knew, I had desires to adopt a child. I went through the process with visions of providing a home for a needy little human. This never happened…the process got delayed by my lack of finger prints. And the end of that process was the beginning of my temporal insanity days.
Nobody knew my growing obsession with listening for cries as I passed a dumpster. Nobody knew how I swerved in traffic as my eyes scanned the highways for an abandoned child.
Never would I ever dream would come next. I began viewing adoption sites on-line. It’s quite easy to get lost in the faces of children in need. I even scanned the pictures of children of other countries. I even began to learn Russian. In case I could make a connection to a foreign child.
Though I’ve never told many of these desires, they existed. It’s okay now. Those times are over, and I got over my desire. Accepting what I could never have was a private difficulty. No one needed to know my unfulfilled wish. After all, I was blessed with three beautiful, intelligent children who I love dearly.
The last time I experienced so much snow around me was in Boise, ID with my daughter and today, I woke up to this in Seattle! It will probably melt soon it, but it’s a perfect “excuse” to sit in bed and write. It’s either that or go out and create a snow man of sorts. I did put on my very warm socks with the intention of taking some snow pictures later and taking a cold walk. We’ll see.
It’s also a great time for me to process some things. I think I seriously need to divulge because lately, my dreams are weirder than ever. I dreamed about mosquitos taking over a dish I was about to eat. I dreamed about a dog and how it killed an alligator that was in my bedroom and about trying to change a diaper and not being able to do it and last night about plants camouflaging to look like spiders!
So, I decided I needed to socially put this out there in hopes that it’ll alleviate some inner stress, face my struggles and hopefully help others who may be facing hard realities.
One thing. I am a true introvert and I don’t like to have attention drawn to me. So there’s that. And then my kids. First of all, they blow me away with their emotional intelligence. They have been open about their struggles and as a result, they face them head on while also (no doubt) helping those that struggle as they do and I’m encouraged to do the same thing.
So, I’ve been married for 24 years, but my marriage is ending and I’m separated. Even writing it down brings home it’s stark reality. But, strangely, writing about it also brings some peace. This is my very difficult reality and I’m not always together. People around me need to know why.
But, at the same time, I have healthy outlets and meaningful relationships. I also have a great therapist who I can see, if needed. I’m also a believer and so there’s the power of prayer. I have peace. But I still needed to be open with you.
My family, friends, readers. I need you and I value you. You are important in my life.
Thank you for allowing me this platform, this snowy day to truly update you.
I Write 