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I’VE LOST MY MOJOS

I have somehow lost my mojo for words. Imagine that! It’s been that kind of summer. It’s a marker, that’s for damn sure. Life will never be the same again. Can’t you feel it? It’s a roller coaster weather wise, too. If this doesn’t convince you we have climate change, nothing will. It has been a scorcher the last few days. PLUS we’re enveloped in smoke from forest fires on the west coast.

When I see my world enveloped in smokey haze for days, I have this feeling we are coming to our end faster than predicted. The world seemed to be on fire, literally. Then there’s the figuratively. There’s no good news. Bombings, shootings and more shootings. I do not have a positive slant on life right now.

I have lost my mojos for everything. Maybe it’s the heat. It’s taken the energy out of me. I say tomorrow I will do this and that. Tomorrow does come. It becomes today. And I say the same thing. Maybe tomorrow. What a sad sack I’ve become! Well, life hasn’t been easy. I’m not one to suffer in silence. I’m not blaming anyone or anything. Just saying as they say. I am sure that I am not alone in the difficulties of living. At least I shoot off my mouth instead of a gun.

I should call it a day and go to bed but I have this restlessness inside. How could one be at ease these days? I find it distressing having to draw the blinds to keep the heat out day after day. I feel as if I am in hiding from some unknown enemy. The forecast for the next few days is cooler temperatures. I can open the blinds at least. And maybe the windows if the smoke dissipates. There’s always hope. That’s what they say.

STUFF THAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF

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Last night I dreamed that I cut my hair during my coffee break.  It took me almost two hours and I hadn’t done my back yet.  By that time my shift was over.  I had wondered, in my dream, who was covering for me.  Then I woke up.

I remembered it because I wrote it up in my dream journal right away.  Otherwise it would have disappeared like the morning dew on a sunny summer morning.  I wanted to remember my dreams, every single one of them.

Perhaps it is a foolish thing, grasping onto will ‘o wisps.  It’s like holding onto smoke.  It reminds me of the time when I was a young woman and still living at home.  When my mother walked into my bedroom as I was having a cigarette, I instinctively put my hand over the ashtray.   The smoke curls out and up between my fingers.

We watched the smoke curling through my fingers in silence, my mother and I.  We did not speak.  I realized how foolish I was in that moment – as if I can hide something from my mother.  It would have been better if we could have talked.  Living up to what I thought was her ‘standards’ was very hard.  Life could have been easier if we knew what the other was thinking.  I would not have to always fight life so hard.

Here I go again with the ‘ifs’, ‘ would haves’, etc.  One thing I know for sure is that we can’t go backwards.  No time traveling to the past nor the future is possible.  Can I say YET?  Well, whatever!  Life itself is but a dream.  You can grab it, hold onto it with all your might, and squeeze the hell out it all you want, but it will go on.  It is an inane phrase but life goes on.

I guess I should not waste any more valuable time.  The thing to do is to honour and respect this life of mine.  I know I have a purpose.  I want to fulfill those ‘dreams’ of mine, however elusive they are.  To steal the words of my hero, Martin Luther King, I have a dream…

  • to write my novel
  • to lose 10 pounds
  • to live in the present moment
  • to learn compassion
  • to learn forgiveness

These are five big dreams.  They will keep me pretty busy.  Any help will be accepted.