Tuesday evening rant…

So, I apologize if what comes out is too “Eh…” I’m only human and humans can’t naturally say ūüôā all the time, it’s impossible!

SO, this is my attempt to purge out of me the occasional negativity which plagues me during winter months. Does it happen to you? The grey skies, the monotony of the daily grind, the tiresome chores of laundry, cooking, grocery shopping and the like?

I’m venting this out into the world of the internet, no I’m screaming it! Can’t you hear me? OH…I forgot, I would have to type in all caps, but because of my introverted shy nature, I feel rude when I type in all caps, so I’ll just rant in lower case font. It’s enough for now.

Part of the reason for my rant is that I have to move and I don’t want to. Well, maybe it’s more that I’m just not ready to. I’ve done it so many times in my life that it’s lost it’s romanticism. All it means now is getting a new address, learning new street names, and ripping open boxes of “prized”¬†stuff.

I’m tired, but I guess it must be done. Is there a go fund me¬†of sorts for getting others to move me? If so, let me know and I’ll look into it.

Wow, all those letters, fonts, words and sentences for a rant. Thanks for allowing me the pleasure.

~peace friends.

Monday

Here it is Monday again and I noticed that my last post was a poem. Today, I’m just¬†tapping the keyboard and¬†seeing what comes out.

I do want to report that I finished my story and put it on kindle, but I haven’t yet promoted it.

I will promote it after a few select people read it first, but it’s up and complete, and now I can move forward to the next idea. I’m¬†excited to work on it. At the moment I’m brainstorming with my creative family and¬†playing around with ideas.

I must admit, it’s nice to have fresh thoughts.

 

Work

What is work?

“activity involving mental or physical effort done in order to achieve a purpose or result.”

I looked up the definition because I think work means something different per each person. This description fits me because it goes beyond a paycheck. However, earning cash is a reward and puts a smile on my face.

But, more than the money is the sense of purpose that I believe we all need as humans.

I feel sad for the homeless person for that reason. I know they lack money, but I wonder if it’s more distressing to lack¬†purpose? Or is their purpose to remind us¬†(the ones who do have jobs, money, shelter, etc.) to remember to be grateful for what we have and not take it for granted and to give to those who are less fortunate?

Just thoughts.

There is inequity in our world and life is very unfair to a great amount of people. I think it’s best to keep it in mind to be grateful for what we have and to share our “wealth” with the poor.

~Peace friends.

 

Ramblings

Soooo, the interesting things of late…

I’ve recently discovered that I’m very much the fan of humorous and fashion blogs alike. I read them, skim them, and I come away with a smile on my face, so thank you to recent followers who have such blogs. I need them and so do many others. Keep at it!

Next, update on the writing class…pretty much, the teacher has challenged me so much, that I’m secretly trying to write a whole other story in my head because I’m beginning to dislike the story that I’m almost finished with, no joke!

However, she warns of such a phase and to push through it. Great, (I think) Of course, finish what you start. And I will….(I think)

That’s the update for now.

~Peace friends.

 

AWOL

A-absent

W-worn out from Thanksgiving

O-overwhelmed

L-lazy

I hope that I’m not alone in neglecting my writing. Instead of wasting time writing about my excuses, I created a new acronym from an old one. So, you get the point.

I’m plenty thankful, grateful, and blessed. I realize others aren’t and it grieves me, but I continue to move ahead forward, smiling, hugging, giving, growing, and trying to ignore my desires to just waste away hours covered in warm blankets, pointless exploration of various social media sites and filling my body further with empty calories. Some days I succeed. The other days, I take a breath, whisper a thanks and again, move¬†forward.

~Peace friends.

 

Monday Again

So, here it is Monday again. The good news is that my husband and I woke up early and worked out, so no matter what happens for the rest of the day, I can scratch off a large item on the to do list, and if I don’t accomplish much else, then I’m still ahead ūüėČ

The bad news? There really isn’t any for me and I’m grateful. I truly am. I’ve tried to keep this blog focused solely on writing, but honestly the events of the world effect everyone and everything and I just need to face that reality, pray, absorb some positive vibes and move forward.

Today, I’m trying to ignore the turkey tasks and impending cooking and cleaning and enjoy the time I have with my daughter who’s here from school. It’s nice to catch up on the life of a 19 year old college student. I’m also trying to stay true to my goals with blogging and writing a chapter a day. Have a great week amigos!

~peace to all.

 

My Monday Ode

It is often the artists of the world that get at the core of issues. Artists, writers, and musicians alike evoke the deep groanings within us.

Listen to them.

They wield their brush, instruments and words like surgical tools, both stirring, and healing, inviting us.

Listen to them.

But, we run away from pain, shattered dreams, destruction rather than face the cause of these first perilous breaks. We fail to¬†recognize these early signs as merciful warnings,¬†and in¬†our pride,¬†we accuse,¬† we rail, we persecute, and we shut out.–And this to our own (and those around us) detriment.

Facing¬†early warnings can bring forth solution, discussion, intervention, but with it,¬†humiliation, suffering, and truth, ¬†all we’ve been¬†modeled¬†to avoid.

Listen to them.

Until the time that the one who’s learned can finally, emphatically and boldly say enough, stop and no more.

Listen to them.

~peace friends

Friday thoughts

Many thoughts swirling around and it’s Friday, a somber Friday. A 9-11 Friday. Where was I? I was in my suburbia home in Texas with my three small children gathered around the television just as many¬†that day were. I had just listened to a message from my husband that he’d left early on the answer machine. He was in Florida on a business trip. His voice and breathing sounded strained, and fearful and it got my heart racing.

I turned on the television and was watching with my children trying to put together what my husband said in the message with what I was viewing live on television. The scene was playing again and again and the towers were smoking, but still standing. I’m sure my children had begun playing, but I could see they were also noting the distress in my countenance.

I stayed watching, listening to the reports and thinking, “Oh my, this is¬†war!” and just as I was thinking a thought like this, I saw on the television as the first tower fell and I couldn’t believe it. It came down in waves and I was horrified thinking of all the people who were in it, around it and under it. I looked at the innocent faces of my young children and they were looking at me putting my hand to my chest and shaking my head. I decided reluctantly to turn it off at that moment. They like me had just witnessed a horrific, deadly scene.

I wanted to keep watching because I wondered what else might happen and what other building might be struck, and to make sure we were safe, but I couldn’t subject my children to this reality anymore. I wanted them to keep playing and to laugh and smile to help keep the normalcy in our home.

Sometime that day, my husband would call back and tell me that it would be days before I saw him because he would not be flying, but instead car pooling his way back to Texas with his co-workers. There would be no flying for a while. I was both thankful to hear his voice and grateful that we were alive when so many had lost their lives, but also I just wanted to be near him and to be held by him so that I could fall apart.

My thoughts and prayers are with all those involved. No, we didn’t forget.

~Peace.

The whole day

Seriously, it took the whole day and two glasses of Pinot Grisio to get me in front of the screen to¬†write. Oh, and a square inch of Theo’s dark chocolate. I could’ve eaten the whole bar, but I need to pace myself on the stuff, a slow steady supply is perfect for the soul.

Anyway, here I am and I facing some heavy reflections from my vaca. Here in lovely Seattle, where the air and water are fresh and the connections few, I have time to think, to sit, to ponder. I think that what is important fades to the background here, but it doesn’t disappear. It’s a constant on my heart and mind, the conversations, the interactions I had with the people I love. They don’t go away.¬†¬†I know and have learned what’s important in life. I’m one blessed individual to have been given a chance, again, not one chance, but multiple to figure it out.

Do I have it all figured out? H-e–l-l no! (I’ve wanted to say that!) I’m not saying that. I’m blessed, but I have obeyed the “voice”of God these days because I know I didn’t in my past. I was the queen of doing what I pleased. I was the quintessential brat. Spoiled in the “soul”way. I thought life revolved around my desires. I had to be shown I wasn’t all that. I had to be torn down to finally “see”. My life had to come crashing down around me in order for me to smell coffee brewing.

Do I know 100% what He wants from me in this life? No, I don’t. Do I have the answers to the problems of this world? Not even close. My gift isn’t intellect, nor especially insight. That isn’t what He’s given me. What He’s given me is mercy. I deserve punishment for ALL the wrong I have done and continue to do, but no, He continues to give me mercy and I’m just so grateful, so, so grateful.

But here’s the thing. I’m not special. I’m not favored. I believe His love¬†is for everyone. Everyone is given the same as God gives me. His gifts are for all who choose to believe and who choose love.

What are you going to choose today? What voice are you obeying today? What has happened in your life to get your attention? What has happened that has made food unappealing and life scary? Are you wondering how you’ll live another day? Yeah, I’ve been there as well. I want you to know you’re not alone. I remember it well and won’t allow myself to forget it.