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Distractions

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Photo by Harrison Haines on Pexels.com

There’s a million and one distractions begging for my attention. It’s easy to be led astray. I have to ask myself again and again, what difference would they make in my life as each one comes up. Otherwise my days would be lost in the endless scrolling for information of no consequence. Mark Zuckerberg did me no favours for coming up with Facebook. I was happy enough before, not knowing everyone was having fun and travelling the world. That is everyone except me.

Do I really care how many friends they have, who they are and what they had for dinner? I never did before and I don’t think I really do now. Still, my fingers are itchy and want/need to scroll. They need to know. Not all distractions are bad or wasteful. Yesterday I discovered the page of Planet Gayle. It was a delightful find. It’s a daughter’s tribute to her wonderful and weird mother. Later in the day I came across Deanna Dikeman’s Instagram account. Seeing her photos made me want to take up my camera again. For 27 years, she took photographs as she waved good-bye and drove away from visiting her parents at their home in Sioux City, Iowa.

There are the good and bad of distractions. They can gobble up precious time which could have been better used. Then there are times when we need distractions that can trigger our troubled mind into a better place. It is up to me which way to go. I can use it or lose it.

# ENCOURAGER SOCIETY

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I’m finally here to see if I can impart some thought, some wee bit of wisdom. Mostly I’m here to tap myself well. It’s not that I am ill or anything.  I am languishing too much. I’ve let go of the glue that binds me. I want to stem the flow before all my goodness is gone. Lately, all that I can feel is the acridness of life. Can it seep into me from the forest fire smokes? It’s not a nice feeling. I want to curl my lips at everything. Sarcasm and cynicism course through me. Where happened to my annoying Pollyanna attitude? I want it back. I miss it.

Life is strange. I feel strange. It’s difficult to find kindred souls to hash it out. It’s not that I am afraid to talk. On the contrary. I tend to talk too much – but not to the right people. It’s gets me into trouble sometimes. The right ones are seldom visible. Not many are brave or generous enough to share face to face. I am happy to find a group of young and not so young women on social media who can and does talk about their experiences and feelings. They tag their posts with #encouragersociety. Bravo to them.

I don’t think it’s all about bravery or generosity that prevents people from talking and sharing. It also takes an enormous amount of energy. It does for me – to be present here and tapping out my words. I have this huge feeling of sleepiness. I would much rather lay on the couch with my tea and read my book. I would really like to just sit and close my eyes, not thinking or doing. It’s taking me two days to write this post. Finish today, I must.

I am sure that the approaching autumn and the shortening of days are affecting me. I am not usually bubbling over with energy or glee. That is not my natural self but I’m usually more alive than this. While I don’t think I am totally glum, I really have to work at feeling joy. I have to dig into self-help books. It makes me feel not so alone or weird to hear another express it on Instagram. On top of that she encourage others to keep on, that they’re doing great. Yes, encouraging each other helps alot. It helps to be reminded that we have a tricky brain. Everything passes. So carry on and pass it on. Light each other’s torch.

Mission accomplished. I can go back to my book. An easy read by Joy Fielding – The Bad Daughter. Ironically the main character is a therapist who gets bad anxiety attacks. Not very good reviews but it is easy reading. Works for my malfunctioning brain.