Ugly

I was at a stoplight, and the light had turned red when the pickup truck behind me decided that stopping was not convenient for him. He found space to pass me and ran the red light.

I know I seem like a small-town girl, but this place where I live isn’t a big city. We still claim a few rural, country roots. But we’ve certainly forgotten our manners.

We can’t pretend this is Mayberry and that we live in the scripted world they did. It’s a free choice, do as you please, live free kinda life now. This country dude didn’t know me, and his action wasn’t personal. He had an agenda of his own. If I wasn’t here, it would have been someone else he’d pass.

Keep on truckin’

Fly in the soup

Bullying has been around for ages. Sometimes we call it helpful advice. Or nagging. People who honk when you drive too slow or stay too long at a stoplight think they can push you into doing what they want. Maybe it’s your brother who wants money or your dad giving advice or your wife who hates your music. The stress of this can build until life becomes unbearable. We can learn to live with it, but how? How we handle the push is a personal choice. I do have a suggestion or two.

“Hold your own, know your name, and go your own way.”

Jason Mraz

Learn to take care of yourself. Know where you are going and watch your surroundings. Don’t get embroiled in the road rage drama. I’ve been in dangerous situations that I didn’t cause, but because someone believed I had slighted them, they sought revenge with their automobile. Believe me, early in the morning, while heading to work is not the time to check the status of your brakes. When testosterone-filled young men driving little red cars pass you and then stop, it doesn’t matter if I did something wrong or not.

Idiocy is everywhere. I decide if it ruins my life. I get shaky after these events, but I realize they are like storms. It rains on everyone. Some people become offended and believe they are persecuted, but they’re not. Unless you’re a person who creates trouble, most things are random. You can’t prevent everything. Shake free of the event and go on with your day.

Remember your values. The pebbles in your shoes, rude people, can soon become spikes in your soul. It would be sad if you lost your way and let anger, disappointment, and revenge become more important than love, kindness, and charity. Your standards are essential to this culture’s survival.

What do you there’s a serious a abuser in your life? Find help. Seek counseling. Talk to friends and ask for advice. Most importantly, find a safe place, a safe lifestyle for yourself.

see also Softness Is Your Strength and Pebbles in My Shoe

Excerpt from BEING STRONG

Just the Taste

Earlier, I was eating an apple and enjoying it. I was just eating the apple, nothing else, and it was delicious. The Crunch. The Juice. It was a delicious apple. So much of my eating has become a duty. Just enjoying good food is difficult because we are all so uptight about eating healthy and not overeating. I’m right there in the mix of it also. Sitting down to eat a whole gallon of ice cream isn’t enjoying it. That’s a compulsion.

Documenting my food intake is entirely not my style. Of course like everything I do, I volley between a strict watch to eating whatever I want. Until I get in sync with my body though, I feel I need to be aware of what I’m doing. My main problem is when I start to watch, I also begin to grade. I judge.

Surely there’s a better way of staying healthy. A relaxed way. Somehow to respect ourselves and respect our food. With honor.

– excerpt from Being Strong
Find it on Amazon http://tiny.cc/1s4cbz

Fan Stuff

Have you liked my posts? If you’re a fan of my writing or even a casual reader please take a look at my Patreon account. I promise not to zap you when you stop over. It is the fiction side of my writing.

What To Know

I’m completing a novel currently titled I’m In Love With A Gangsta. Not the final title obviously, but I had to start somewhere. Come and see the status. Check up on it periodically. I’ll let everyone know when it’s off to editing.

Patron

If you wish to become a part of the process, dive in with me, become a Patron. Otherwise, your cheering on the sidelines is also much appreciated.

Thank you for your support! You are the best.

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Memories of a Childhood

There was a hole in the kitchen floor. In my two-year-old mind, it was huge. My family lived in a travel trailer temporarily. I grew up on hundred acres of land with pecan trees and with livestock, horses, chickens, all with a nearby river and wooded area, wild enough for any child’s fantasy. I remember the hole. I avoided it, walked around it, afraid of falling.

I remember picking the pecans when I was three or four. My first experience with money and excitement of commerce. Power.

I remember sitting carefully on the toilet. Mom bought an adapter seat so that I wouldn’t be afraid.

Falling in holes, dropping in toilets, and we can’t forget that I did fall out the door. I was young. Early in the morning, dad was plowing the cornfield. For some reason, he had a bowl that he wanted me to come and get. I was happy to run to help — a good little worker. The door was open, I stood on the edge, and I knew I should sit down and scoot. The steps were tall. Four-year-old little legs can’t leap the way her big brothers do, but I never realized this. So I jumped.

I jumped and missed the steps. The darn surface wasn’t where it was supposed to be. What happened afterward is a blur. There was a pain. Scream causing pain. My arm was pinned under my body and against the concrete steps. People say it doesn’t hurt when you break a bone. Or it hurts worse if you’re an adult. I don’t know what type of weed they’re smoking, because it fuckin’ hurt. I know it didn’t help when everyone else around was yelling and your parents are arguing. I don’t remember this, but they would do this now so I’m sure they did then. I’ve spent Fifty years convincing my mom I was the one at fault. I chose to jump and that dad did not will me to run out to get the bowl but like the faulted people who we are, we stay stuck in our patterns. Dad will remain the blame. The Evil. And I’m not sure where that puts me.

I think I moaned the entire ride to the Tulsa hospital and into the Emergency room. I do remember they had Popsicles, and those were delicious treats of frozen goodness.

I remember the frogs by the river. When the tadpoles came out as new baby frogs, I’d try to catch them. They were everywhere it seemed. Hundreds of them. At that age, I loved frogs and lizards, any critter.

rumi-sit-quietly-and-listen-for-a-voice-quote-on-storemypic-788b7

So many events happened in my life, but there are only a few I remember. I don’t know why I remember these. Why were these highlighted and others shelved? I don’t trust memories anymore. They are wriggly morphing vapors. And if you stare into them believing you will learn something new, you’re only deluding yourself. Memories are packets, and you change them each time you examine at them. And every person who sees an event will see it differently.

The truth of anything is in your feelings. Heal your emotions, and you’ll heal your memories. Yes, it is possible.

Here are a couple of movies:

ReMemory (on Amazon Prime)

The Discovery (on Netflix) Trailer

Powerful

My writing is quite prolific.

It is profound. Each phase is well thought, precise, and inspiring. It moves like thunder, casting a spell over the crowd and causing awestruck gasps as everyone listens to me.

When I woke from my dream, the words had vanished. I turn off my alarm.

Someday, it will be mine! In the power of my dreams.

I am quite prolific. If only while I sleep.

The above graphic is from Steemit.com It’s a sigil or symbol for love, peace, and prosperity.

Namaste

Dancing To the Rhythm

 

Not Again.

It was one of those moments, and I was doing it again. I was in a trance. This time I wasn’t perusing Amazon’s many book suggestions like I talked about in Mindless Searching, I was in my own negative thoughts. Lost.

I caught myself.

Mucking around in my old stories wasn’t helpful. It was the old “somebody done me wrong song.” I don’t live there anymore. Why does this happen? It’s familiar, yes. And it was an old pattern.

But I’ve created a new life and a different story. I’m at a beautiful place. I don’t need that story to prop up my self-esteem.

It went like this.

I had been KNOCKED DOWN. Taken advantage of. POOR ME. But I’m STRONG, and I climbed out of the grime. Look at me now. See how MIGHTY I am. Yeah, can any of you recognize this story? It’s not that it’s a bad one. It’s familiar. Very Western. American. We glory in the knocked down, climb your way out and up to the top hero story. It just isn’t working for me anymore.

Shackles off.

I want a new story. Forget hardships and pain. I want to dance and live and thrive. Why not enjoy this life. So the next time I find myself singing that old tune, I’ll replace it with a new one.

 

I want to dance!!

Check these posts out –>The Flip Side-To Thrive,  Mindless Searching,  and  Vacation Poster Promises

The Thing About Neighbors

I was walking into my complex and overheard a conversation inside my downstairs neighbor’s condo. Not strange, except she lives alone. I paused in my curiosity. Yes, I’m nosy. “You don’t appreciate anything I do for you.” I imagined her little dogs lined up on the couch being lectured. It’s like she was playing school, but she wasn’t a child. Medication needed?

Young

One of my young guy neighbors was trying to hide his motorcycle inside since management was trying to impound it. He didn’t like parking it out front with the cars and as he stated it, “they are on my ass.” So up the stairs, he struggled and shoved until it was inside the condo. I wonder how his girlfriend felt about the chunk of metal in the living room?

Old

We have an older gentleman, one of the few condo owners who live here, besides me, who is working to clean the grounds. He is a well-dressed fellow, dress shirt, suspenders, and slacks. I’ll see him sometimes in the morning getting into his Mustang GT. I’ve never asked where he goes. Is he still working at his age? I’m not sure even how old he is. In the evenings and weekends, he’s picking up leaves and trash.

All

Neighbors remind me of the story Stone soup. At first glance my neighbors are annoying and I don’t know why I stay at this place. But I’m the stone, the rock in the middle of all this pot of water. They bring the flavor. The painter, a dog trainer, a nurse, and many more good people live here. If I get to know people their lives become more than static, more than the ugly boom, boom bass that disturbs me. Neighbors are people living their life. I have to re-frame it sometimes, understand the annoyance and let it go.

Something to read:

Name That Cookie

Years ago, when I was married, my mother-in-law shared her memory of the best sugar cookies in the world. But, she didn’t have the recipe. It was her mom’s recipe, and her mom never wrote a recipe on paper. Earline remembered eating them as a child fresh from the oven. They were soft and cake-like, somewhat crumbly. She tried adapting sugar cookie recipes to create something similar, but they weren’t quite right. What’s a woman with a cookie craving to do?

Another Strategy?

How many times have we spouted the great words of wisdom, “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing but expecting to get different results?” Psychology Today We sometimes mock people who keep trying, but I wonder if we don’t give up too quickly. Anyway, I call trying and trying determination. There’s also a time to do things a little different. Sometimes calling a friend can help. Or get some air.

Feedback, please

I’m tenacious. Sometimes to a fault. That spot is coming out of the carpet. It’s difficult for me to know when to call it quits. I’m uncertain when to stop scrubbing the carpet or to stop trying different cleaning products. There’s not an indicator light to give me feedback, to let me know I’m at peak cleaning potential. At least not until the carpet is restored to the original color. If I succeed, I’ve fed my belief that Tenacity rules! But I tell myself this tale whether it’s true or not.

My motto as a teenager was to not give up. I loved this quote,

Never give in–never, never, never, never, in nothing great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense. Never yield to force; never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.Sir Winston ChurchillSpeech, 1941, Harrow School
British politician (1874 – 1965)

Know Your Team

It’s funny how we can mislabel things for years, misjudge, and misunderstand. Yeah, I went there. I work in the health care industry, so I see symbols all day. Hearts, snakes, and poles. Their meanings along with all of the medical language make me aware of how we communicate with each other. The hearts aren’t referring to love. The poles aren’t sexy. And if you see a naked man or woman, you might want to close your eyes.

Cookies

Oh, and those weren’t sugar cookies by the way. Earline eventually asked her older sister if she knew the recipe. Sis called them Oma’s cookies. Together they found a recipe for Oma, German for Grandma’s cookies. It’s a simple, no-fuss cookie recipe by the way.

My recipes-Omas Sugar Cookies

project pastry-Omas Sugar Cookies

 

Tricky Rabbit

princess-bride

I love new beginnings. Fresh starts are more appealing than finishing touches. It’s me. The end is just that, the end. It’s over. Done. The toys go away, and everyone goes home. There’s a book that talks about the two types of games people play, Finite and Infinite Games by James Carse. He mentions that we each have our way of the game, even in everyday life. Yeah,

Infinite all the way for me.

But life doesn’t cater to my preference. So with every ending of a book, I start a new one. I have a huge stack of books. And the adventure continues.

“In infinite games, a surprise is a reason it continues.”-Gary Carmell https://www.garycarmell.com/infinite-games/

Beginnings always meet resistance. It doesn’t matter if you’re planning a military coup or painting your newborn’s nursery, the complexity of the job doesn’t matter. You’ll face obstacles in any game you play. How you handle challenges reveals your gaming style.

I listened to a podcast forecasting the events and mood of 2017. I don’t live my life according to astrology, but if a smart idea strikes my fancy, I’ll note it. I’m shortening and possibly corrupting the message, but here is how I heard it. Please forgive my amateur interpretation.

2017 will be a fire year, changeable. Plan but be aware of changes. It’s a Jack Sparrow sort of year. Fly by the seat of your pants, so remember to be flexible. Ad lib.  Here’s the link if you wish to listen fully. ->Runesoup Talking 2017 Astrology with Austin Coppock.

Jack Sparrow is a trickster. So was Bugs Bunny, Wile E. Coyote, Westley from Princess Bride, and Loki from Scandinavian mythology to name a few. Click here to read a finite list of modern day tricksters. Tricksters are light-footed, have few rules, disregard societies constraints, and have unique styles. I find it interesting that movies put the trickster as the hero. We cheer for him.

Riddle me this Mr. Joker.

The good guy, Mr. Stiff Shirt becomes the villain. He’s followed the rules, climbed the corporate brigadier ladder, and no dirty pirate will steal his girl. Or naval vessel. Inconceivable!

We cheer BECAUSE Jack Sparrow, our trickster, breaks the rules. And our collars are feeling snug around our necks. We’re restricted. It’s the debt, the responsibilities, we miss laughing with our kids, and we’ve held in our anger too long. A light-footed trickster makes life look easy. Almost as easy as running away to Colorado in a camping trailer.

Captain Jack Sparrow is a con artist, but we still love him. Impossible for long term commitments, yes. But we can hardly hate him. I’d invite him over for a beer. I’d just lock up the valuables.

Thanks for hanging with me this week! Peace.

Inconceivable!

An exclamation of disbelief. Impossible to comprehend or grasp fully.

So unlikely or surprising as to have been thought impossible; unbelievable.

“Inconceivable!” “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”
by Rose-Pose January 17, 2006

http://gutenberg.us/articles/list_of_modern_day_tricksters