Tag Archives: Dealing with Life

It is not real life…

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Another World

June 10, 2025

It is not real life…

Awaking early, I couldn’t go back to sleep. An unease hung in the air, which I couldn’t explain. The steady drip, drip, drip of tension has been raining down on us for months. Some go about their days, seemingly oblivious to the erosion of values supposedly held dear by Americans. Others witness this degradation occurring, but cannot process it nor know how to act. Public conversation rarely occurs. People are cautious about their speech and who they are open with. I suspect other homes are as abuzz as ours when the doors are closed, though I do not know what their conversations are. 

I feel the need to prepare myself for the days ahead. Yet I do not know what that means, or how to prepare. I expect things to get worse. Much worse.

My hubby asked me if I was anxious. I had no solid answers for his question. Instead, I told him of my feelings. You know the feeling you get when you are on a steep roller-coaster. The whole time the car is slowly edging to the top, you feel the anticipation or dread building within your whole being. Then, many times, the car stops at the top, leaving you suspended in space hanging above the steep drop. In an instant, you are hurtling down the steep drop at record speeds. You scream. Everyone does. Then the ride levels out and gradually slows to a stop. You get out, laughing, barely able to catch your breath or your balance, and finally recognize that you’ll be okay. Right now, I identify with the stage where the car is slowly edging to the top, to pause, suspended in space before dropping. Just not sure how safe the fall will be, not sure what life will look at the bottom, or if I’ll even stand.

It seems to me that the warning signs have been presented to us for months. With each passing event, the acts become more brazen. I listen to people bemoaning how we may be losing our democracy. This morning, I awoke to news that the National Guard and the Marines are in the streets of Los Angeles. Really? Losing our democracy? It is safer to say that the ship has already sailed. It is gone. People think we can return to something. How? Nothing goes backwards.

 I have no vision of what is forthcoming, or knowledge of what it will be, or how it will materialize. Yet I believe once the burning is complete, something will arise from the ashes. 

I consider we are in for some hard times. Again, I’m uncertain what that means, what it looks like, or how it will affect me and my family. My goal is to continue to focus on individuals, to bring peace and love to those around me. My hubby and I will continue to encourage and support one another. Both of us feel the tension of these days and recognize how important it is to be gentle with one another, to keep seeking things we enjoy, things that bring us peace and contentment.

This won’t happen, but how I would like to awake from this nightmare and declare, “This is not real life,” then sigh and enjoy a sun-filled day.

Birthed in the Desert

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I wrote earlier about my creative “desert experience” and teased about sharing the flash fiction piece written from this phase. The counts are in and the “YES” votes win.

Do not be surprised, this piece may find a home in a future collection of short stories. 

The Concert

Peter sauntered into the seating area of the concert arena. The patrons were milling around, greeting friends who were at the same event. Many people already seated were chatting with those near them, or enjoying pizza with wine or other drinks. Servers walked the aisles, taking drink orders. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he nonchalantly glanced from left to right. It was still early and there were many open seats. He was sure whoever purchased his ticket for him was already there, watching him. An usher looked at his ticket and directed him to his seat. It was an excellent location, center stage, just a couple of rows back from the dining tables, three seats in from the aisle. Realizing he would have a good seat for the show, and he himself would be in a prime location for others to monitor, he unbuttoned his jacket and sat down. As directed, he had on a black suit, with a bright orange shirt. He’d left the top two buttons undone, trying to look a little more casual. Clearly, he was overdressed compared to many of the others at the concert event. As he once was told, his movements were stiff, almost robotic. Though he made efforts to appear to fit in, he could not relax. The glasses he wore, which were dark-rimmed and oversized, allowed him to observe others around him easily. He had never figured out how to loosen up when around others. This evening was no exception. His seat was next to an energetic black woman. She was already swaying to the piped in pre-concert music. Occasionally she would speak to him, and he nodded or gave her a brief reply. Couldn’t she tell he didn’t want to converse with her?

The opening act appeared on stage and the crowd went wild. It was during that excitement another couple took the two seats on his other side. The lady sat next to him, but it was obvious she was enthralled with her date. 

He remained in his seat, erect and focusing on the stage. The opening act had the crowd’s attention. They weren’t something he would have paid to see. He sat there pondering how this evening came to be. 

Why am I here?

Who am I supposed to meet?

How many people are watching me?

Is this a set-up?

His thoughts raced as he focused his attention on the performers. The opening act wrapped up their performance. As they vacated the stage, many rose from their seats to get something to eat, or just to stretch their legs. He stood, as did the couple seated next to him. It was obvious they didn’t intend to allow him to leave. They started talking to him. 

Were they the people he was supposed to meet here? The gentlemen introduced himself as KP. The woman never provided a name. As KP talked, Peter responded mostly by nodding his head or providing short affirming responses. The woman, wearing a tight-fitting sleeveless denim vest, tight black jeans and a perky straw hat, kept staring at her partner. Her brown hair curled out from under her hat, framing her face nicely. It was easy to wonder if she knew the man at all, or if this was a new relationship. She would tip her head and adoringly stare into his face as he spoke. He too wore tight fitting black jeans and a casual denim shirt. His beard and hair sported a dignified salt and pepper look. Probably in his mid-40s, KP appeared more casual than Peter and more relaxed. But why wouldn’t he be more relaxed? He shouldn’t know the group was being observed. 

The threesome talked during the switch-up between the opening act and the featured performance. KP did most of the talking. The woman just smiled and fawned on KP. Peter stoically stood and listened. As the main act was setting up on the stage, the three returned to their seats. Before sitting down, KP reached into his pocket, extracting a small envelope which he discretely slid into Peter’s hand. Peter nodded, seated himself, and stared straight ahead at the stage. He thought, oh what one will do for money! It sure makes the world go round. If they only knew. He wanted to turn around to determine if anyone had noticed the transaction, but then he didn’t know who he should look for. He knew there would be a sedan waiting out front after the performance to whisk him away.

Thoughts

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I recently started a new project, as I felt my mindset had slipped out of some traditional thought patterns. I pulled a gratitude journal from the bookshelf as I decided I needed to get back into the habit of practicing gratitude. 

Each writing offers a two-page spread, with the first page having some thoughts to ponder, some scripture reminders, and the subsequent page is for writing and a brief prayer for ending the session. 

My writing will remain private, but I wanted to share the thoughts to ponder from one day. Day five, to be more precise. 

Some of the truths I’ve known for years, yet somehow, allowed these truths to escape from personal practices. Sometimes we all need reminders.

Yet I was fascinated by the idea that one’s mind actually expands based upon our focus. I liked the examples they used and could see experiences from my past to support the statement. 

The world we currently live in bombards us with information designed to grab our minds and cause us to be fearful or distrusting of others. Allowing such thoughts to occupy my mind creates the possibility for a stream of emotions and actions which I don’t want to be used to describe me. I can accomplish an alternative outcome with how I choose to think. When I ponder all I have to be grateful for, or the beauty surrounding me, I will become more optimistic and content. The prospect of becoming more optimistic and content is exciting; which should cause increased happiness, increased health and more fun for those I interact with. 

So, I have started the “100 Days of Grace & Gratitude.”

What thoughts will you choose?

Bloom

Clouds, Dreams & Fantasy, Things to ponder...., , , , , ,

As seeds lay under the soil until condition are right,
so my next work has been slowly preparing to unfurl.

My first blog post for January, I said:

with a clean slate
and a grateful heart
I have a new start

I decided to end 2022 closing a chapter I’ve referred to as my Pandemic writing. Previously, I’ve shared little about Covid or its effect on me, in my writings. Mostly due to recognizing each of us went through this time in our history, yet each dealt with the Pandemic individually. Life continued, but in uncharted ways. Births, deaths, weddings, illness, moves, loneliness, fears and uncertainties still happened. There was no correct way to process the last couple of years. Because the impact resides within each of us, we all have a story to tell. 

My story is a collection of writings, short stories, short shorts, and some poetry. Covid opened the door for me to connect with other writers from around the world. Some groups offered writing prompts, others met via Zoom or on Facebook. It was a time to draw deep into my feelings and thoughts. Sometimes I was surprised at what rose to the surface. 

The time has come to allow these writings to become part of my works. Currently, much of my time is dedicated to completing this project. 

Title to be disclosed later.

How did living through the Pandemic effect you? Please share your responses in the comments. There are no incorrect responses, only your experience.

Pandemic Limerick

Pandemic, , , ,
2017 at the Theater

When is the day

where everyone will say

the world is again open

Kids can stop mopin’

at night in bed they will lay

A Nurse, I’m NOT!

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As a young child, I idolized my second cousin Joan. She was a nurse. I was sure I wanted to be a nurse, like her. I stuck by that dream until I was 16. Something happened during the year to make me realize I had no tolerance for seeing others in pain, or even seeing things I perceived as being painful.

Over time my sensitivity to issues requiring medical attention increased. As I had children, I could attend to their cuts and bruises as needed, if no one else was around. If some other able body were in the vicinity, I would get hot, and then dizzy, rendering me worthless in dealing with the problem. The other adult would dress the injury. With things bandaged up, I could attend to their other needs.

Fast forward, now I’m home with a husband requiring attention to a surgical wound. YIKES! I’m able to get the initial bandage off. But the gauze around the drain tube is stuck. I feel myself getting hot, and my head getting lighter. I back off and sit down.

The good news is, my being a wuss about medical things is no surprise and we both laugh about it. He references how funny he thought it was listening to the doc telling me the things I would have to do at home.

After taking a break, I get the old bandage removed. Photo the site and the pictures off to the doc. Hubby is enjoying the break from having is neck all bandaged. I’m not enjoying his freedom. The sight is unsettling for me. We work together and get the bandage back around the drainage tube.

The phone rings. Doctor’s office calling. He has to take this call. Then he asks me to make some calendar adjustments. When I’m done, he’s completed his taping up of the new bandage.

Why this happens I don’t understand! Intellectually I understand what needs to be done and why. Yet when it’s time to take action, my mind doesn’t respond the way I need it to.

 

 

Stress Management for Women!

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I can’t take credit for writing this and unfortunately, I don’t know whom to credit. It was sent to me via email and had been forwarded many times. I hope you will ponder the message and see if it applies to you.

A young lady confidently walked around the room while leading and explaining stress management to an audience with a raised glass of water. Everyone knew she was going to ask the ultimate question, “Half empty or half full?” She fooled them all. “How heavy is this glass of water?” she inquired with a smile. Answers called out ranged from 8 oz. to 20 oz.

She replied, “The absolute weight doesn’t matter. It depends on how long I hold it. If I hold it for a minute, that’s not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my right arm.

If I hold it for a day, you’ll have to call an ambulance. In each case it’s the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.”

She continued, “And that’s the way it is with stress. If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later, as the burden becomes increasingly heavy, we won’t be able to carry on.” 


”As with the glass of water, you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again. When we’re refreshed, we can carry on with the burden – holding stress longer and better each time practiced. So, as early in the evening as you can, put all your burdens down. Don’t carry them through the evening and into the night. Pick them up tomorrow.