Tag Archives: words

Words and Little Huge Acts

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It’s Easter Monday and light rain is falling upon us. It is much welcomed, quenching a thirsty earth and cleaning our dusty streets. I am at a loss for words so have been reading others’ in this April Ultimate Blog Challenge. One post directed me to Heather Cox Richardson’s April 18th post on Letters from an American on Paul Revere and Patriots Day. I found it quite interesting, having forgotten much of the history learned in high school. It was also very inspiring how what seemed like small acts were huge acts of bravery that changed the country and world.

I feel fortunate to experience these hopeful happy moments of inspiration, especially on a rainy day. No matter how dark I feel, there’s these sparks lighting my way. I always follow the light. I am also reminded not to stay stuck in the same old stories. Changes are happening all the time. It pays no heed to whether I like it or not. I must keep up, not to be left behind, muttering the same old, same old in my puddle. So I hope to be in the moment more often and not to repeat the same sad songs over and over.

I am thankful for this peaceful Easter. We had a very nice supper with all our family at Tsui King Lau Restaurant. The food was very good and so was the company. My father got to take home the leftovers, enough for a couple of days. For once he did not protest. I think he quite enjoyed the food. The restaurant had favourable reviews on Tripadvisor. The trick is to order ahead if going as a large group.

WHY I WRITE

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Photo by Polina Zimmerman on Pexels.com

You might wonder why I write and make posts on social media. Someone once unfriended me on Facebook because they thought I was so prolific. Ever since then, I feel a bit self conscious. I know it is silly but I feel obligatory to explain. So here I am.

I write because I love words and ideas. It helps to organize my brain. Writing is an action. It helps me to remember words, how to use and spell them. If neglected, I forget and have to rely on google and spellcheck. You know what can happen then. The written word registers more with me than the oral. I can read directions whereas I don’t follow verbal ones that well. I’ve learned how to cochet, knit, and other things through written directions.

I’ve learned how to operate my Bernina 790 sewing machine that way. It is a very complicated machine with many functions. I could not retain much of the directions from the in-person hour session at the store. But the manual is always at my fingertips and I can refer back to it time and time again. When I follow each of the steps on my own, I understand it more.

Writing is a way of working out problems for me. It is a mental workout, releasing mental and emotional stress through mental perspiration. Pictures also work that way for me. I post photos and words on social media not because I’m full of myself. Most of them are pretty boring and mundane stuff, but they are interesting to me. Putting words and pictures together is an art form to me. It’s how my brain works. It gives me pleasure. It’s a good enough reason and easy enough to do to stay a bit sane and happy.

WHAT AND HOW

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Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

I haven’t done very well at all at starting, never mind starting over. I am stuck at the starting line forever and a day. Each day I would say later, then it’s tomorrow. And tomorrow never comes. But I’m finally sitting before my keyboard – to see if I can locate that unstuck button and get to GO.

I am not afraid but am ashamed to say I’m not feeling any joie de vivre -no exuberant enjoyment of life at the moment. I wonder where it all went. I feel grey and detached like dirty dishwater. But not to worry. I am not standing on any high ledges and in danger of falling over. I am stuck. I do not need to be rescued. I am just doing some heavy sighing, not complaining or feeling sorry for myself.

Life and some relationships are long journeys. Even if you are in paradise, there’s bound to be some troubles. I say it’s good to bitch a little, to say it as it is. But I am careful (if I’m mindful) to rant in a safe place to a safe person. When I’m miffed, I just need an ear, not advice. I don’t want someone to disagree with me and give me a lecture. It makes me feel worse. I feel angrier and therefore a bad person. I want that someone to be on my side no matter what and not defend the other. Too much to ask for, I know.

So I am just sighing and pondering on the what could give me back that excitement of just being alive and how to get there. I am proud that I’ve at least come back to my safe space and tap out a few words. Words always had some magic for me. Words and pictures. Cross my fingers for some magic to come my way.

Photo by Timothy Paule II on Pexels.com

WHAT MAKES ME HAPPY

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It’s a cool cloudy October 23 at -3℃ at 10 pm. This is rather late to be writing a post for the Ultimate Blog Challenge. It is how it is and I am again at a loss as to what to write. My cold is much better so I am a happier camper. My head is not thick and hollow at the same time. I’m seeing the world through different eyes now. Life is not as heavy. I can breathe a little easier. And that makes me happy.

What makes me happy seems like a good topic. The house is quiet and peaceful. I’m at the keyboard with my thoughts and words. I’m happy at the task. Things are not exactly flowing but they are trickling out. I’m surrounded by some of my artwork. I brought them out in my search for what brings me joy. They show the happiness within me much better than words. Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words. Other times words paint a picture in my mind’s eye.

NOVEMBER – A New Month of Challenges

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November 1, end of October and a new beginning. Though the October Ultimate Blog Challenge is over, challenges are not over for me. I’m the type of person who finds everything hard. At one point in my life I vowed not to let that word enter my vocabulary. It’s hard, too hard. I know I’m weak with vows. Now I am using the word with abandon. Life is just too flipping hard and if using the word makes me feel better, why not, eh?

I’m not like most women. I hate shopping. I have to gear up to go to Costco. Thinking about it fills me with yuck but it’s time and it’s hard. I need stuff and they have it all there and at a good price. I know having intentions doesn’t mean anything unless I follow through. So I made my list, got into the car and drove. Funny it wasn’t hard after that. I went up and down the aisles with my cart and list. An hour later I was through the checkout with $500 less in my bank account. The next challenge was to load everything in the car and get home.

I have to file the memory that it wasn’t hard after I get into the car. The trick was not to pay attention to my feelings but the need to do. That was my focus, too, on getting everything into the house. I was grateful for my workouts at the gym, that I have the strength and the know how. I thought on posture – hip hinge and squat, no bending over. I did pretty well though I worked up a sweat. Most things are put away though a few are still looking for a home. They might as well hang out until I reorganize and clean out some cupboard space. No point in stuffing them in wherever and then having to pull everything out again.

I am pretty pleased with myself for accomplishing this shopping trip today. I did not skip out on my afternoon walk even though the weather was grey and breezy. I brought out my toque and away I went. The fresh air and steps will help me get a good night’s sleep. Now it is almost 6 pm and it is quite dark already and raining a little. I have long complained about the darkness beginning at this time of the year. But I am noticing that it no longer bothers me as much or in the same way. I am learning to embrace, celebrate and use this time to rest and rejuvenate so that I am ready for the spring and the growing season.

WHAT IS YOUR STORY

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January 27, day 27 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I thought I would get on today’s post early rather than late. It might give my voice a different tone. I’m not always tired and bluesy. If I was a singer, it would be an asset. It would be an honour to be called the Empress of the Blues. But that title belonged to Bessie Smith. She was a renowned blues singer during the Jazz Age. She rose from poverty with a mighty and strong voice. She was killed in an automobile accident at the age of 43 in 1937. Her grave was unmarked until a tombstone was erected on August 7, 1970, paid for by the singer Janis Joplin and Juanita Green, who as a child had done housework for Smith.

Her life is such an interesting story. We each have our own story to tell. They’re equally interesting. It’s in the way of telling and how we feel about our stories. I see stories in pictures. I see pictures in stories. In the same way, I tell my stories – one evokes the other. When I see the photo of our house in China, I remember playing up on the rooftop. I saw my first ghosts there. It wasn’t that I ‘saw’ but rather felt their presence. I remember my mother telling me they’re our ancestors and not to be afraid. I also ‘saw’ someone standing by our bed one evening. It was more of a shadow than anything. At the time I was still sleeping in the same bed as my mother. It was made of boards, covered with quilts. Our pillows were wooden blocks. I don’t remember them being uncomfortable though. Aren’t childhood memories/stories wonderful?

I used to write flash fiction for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Rochelle is a published author of several books and a watercolour artist. For Friday Fictioneers we write a story of 100 words to a photo prompt. It was a good fit and practice for me. I’ve learned to make every word count and to hone out needless, excessive words. We interact with each other much like on the Ultimate Blog Challenge. You read me, I read me. Then we critique each other – in a positive constructive way. The Dentist is one of my flash fictions that still has the photo prompt in the post. I’ve removed the photo prompt in most of the posts to free up room in my media library.

This is the long and short of my post. Not my best but not my worse. It has a beginning, a middle and an ending. Now I’m off to work on my watercolours. What is your story?

THE GRACE OF ENDURANCE

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Difficult times can bring out the best in people but in cases like myself, it brings out the worse. I’m full of anger and resentment. I would like to be in a demolition derby. I would like to crash and destroy anything and everything that comes into my path. I thought it would be best it I release that energy here. My vehicle is the keyboard, my weapons only words.

According to my muse, Caroline Myss, words are powerful. I shall pay heed and not search and destroy. I shall try not to burn all the bridges behind me. This is my crossing the Rubicon moment. I breathe, raise my sword and tap, tap, tap on the keyboard. “Alea iacta est”! The die is cast. What is said cannot be unsaid. What is done cannot be undone. What has lived cannot be unlived. But regrets and disappointments I have many. My soul cries in agony over them.

But what is suffering without a voice? Whoever made that rule that we must do it in silence? And how do we know we will be rewarded in heaven for doing so? Who will know and give us comfort if we don’t show and tell? The world is amuck, wouldn’t you agree. We are all in lockdown. We did it to ourselves. We are behaving like the animals that we are – panicing and hoarding toilet paper over the coronavirus pandemic. Then we need politicians to warn us not to take advantage of vulnerable and senior citizens in these times. Then there’s the opposite side where people are not taking the coronavirus thing seriously. They are still gathering in large groups. I guess they haven’t heard of what happened in Wuhan, Italy or Spain. How do we really know it’s for real? Maybe it’s just a movie on TV. Maybe we’re all on Netflix in the movie Contagion.

I think I’m suffering what is called depression. I’m sounding like Alex Trebek on Jeopardy.  No,I’m not depressed. I’m really just stressed and mad as hell. I’m venting my anger in a place where it will cause the least damage. And I’m as sad as can be. The tears are dammed behind my throat. I’m letting things hang out now. I’m not trying to be positive. I’m not sugar coating myself. I am not myself. I cannot pretend to be Wonder Woman anymore with her golden lasso. I cannot fix anything.

Do not worry over the state of my mental health. I am venting, releasing steam. I do not want to blow a gasket. This is my safety valve. I know we are now all in this space together. This is just the beginning and not the end. I am not in fear or distress over the COVID -19 pandemic at this moment. Rather I am in my own private fear and anxiety over my mother’s ordeal with shingles – her pain, vision and enduring the side effects of her medications. It is as if we are still connected by the umbilical cord. I feel all her sufferings.

Things started innocent enough on Feb. 8th. You get the diagnosis. You get the treatment. But it is not that simple. One thing leads to another. Pain persists through out relieved somewhat by meds. Now it is March 26th and eye complication.  Another week of her antivirals 3times/day to endure before she can cut down to smaller dose once/day for another month. The good news is she has recovered most of her vision in her eye.

I’m calling out for prayers to help her endure and tolerate another week of her medications. I’m asking for prayers for myself to be strong and endure to help her through this. Maybe after this, I can afford to panic over the pandemic. Praying for all of us. May we be safe. May we be strong. May we have compassion and love for each other.

CORRALS, CHUTES, SQUEEZE BOXES AND ME

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I must sit down and put down a few words for day 27 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. If I don’t the time will be lost. I will be struggling late into the evening for my words. They always find their way to my fingertips. But I’m often left in high alert, mentally and physically at the finish line. Not a good way to end the day and ease into sleep.

I was jesting yesterday about needing Temple Grandin’s cattle chute to calm and keep me on the beaten path. The subject is still on my mind this morning. On second thought, I should take it seriously. It might and probably will work for me. I don’t have a diagnosis of autism but aren’t we all on a continuum of symptoms? I can certainly get fixated on things and spend too much time on them. Since Temple Grandin came into mind yesterday, I’ve spent time researching her and have reserved 3 books from the library. And now I’m writing on the subject. Oh boy, I’m easily stimulated and distracted. I need those ideas on chutes and corrals of hers.

I just have to rethink what that chute/squeeze box/hug machine might be for me. It deserves some pondering and could make life more easeful. Now I have to think, plan and design a workable curved ‘chute’, a squeeze box for myself so that I’m stay on track and derailed on every turn. One ‘box’ is my 20 minute meditation session in the morning. It does hold me still and in comfort. Not doing anything. Not going anywhere.

Then there are my words. It’s the purpose of me being here in my ‘box’, tapping. The physicality of being here, in my chair, in front of the keyboard, hearing the rhythm of the keys and seeing the letters and words marching across the screen is soothing. Whew! What a long sentence but it works. Does it not? It is my tool of laying everything out, making order and sense so that my brain can see it. I am more of a feely kind of a person. I live innately. I have a difficult time explaining to another. This is the best I can do. Perhaps it is why I often feel lost in this vastness of life. There are no hooks for me to hang my hat on.

Now I see that I do have 2. Enough said for one day. My brain is tired and getting fogging. But it is valuable to have an analysis of my January word journey. The train ride is almost over. I am happy with it. I will not demand a refund when I pull into the last destination. Perhaps I will talk more on the next leg tomorrow.

WORDS, THOUGHTS, FEELINGS

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I’m on a 7 hour countdown with WordPress. I’ve decided to end my personal plan and go back to the free one. Nothing much changes except I’m not paying now. My handle is still athousandandtwo with a .wordpress added after and before the .com. Of course my media storage space is cut back to 3GB from 6. I wasn’t using much of the extra space these 2 years that I’ve had the plan. So what’s the point?

I know, a picture is worth a thousand words and they do speak to me. There’s whole conversations in a photo. Not everyone can hear them though. Words can speak just as well if not louder. I’m making a choice now. I’m choosing the written word. It’s not as if I’m giving up the whole picture. I still have 3 GBs of them at my disposal. But perhaps now that I have chosen the word, I can work on getting one thousand of them. It’s a worthy goal.

I can see the benefits of reaching beyond myself. It will boost my self esteem to prove that I’m not just a one or two liner girl. I can write more than just Hallmark greeting cards. That’s nothing to sneeze at either, if I can sell them. Secondly, working on more words could help slow down and organize my attention deficit brain. Having the goal would give me purpose in coming to this space. I’ve been mostly sighing and whining about this and that. Who wants to listen to that? I tire and bore myself.

So now I’m down to 5 hours before I’m booted back to the not so professional version of WordPress. My words will stay the same. I still give them equal and careful thought before hitting the PUBLISH button. My proof reading is not superb. Having an attention deficit brain, my eyes run ahead before the words can register. My thoughts skip all over the place, too. I work on pulling eyes and attention back to this page, to this moment, to this purpose.

I’ve been sitting every morning in meditation with Mark Williams on Youtube. I’ve been doing it since July. Sometimes I hear myself thinking with his British accent ..”and if you should find yourself…” It works. When I do find myself wondering off, I bring myself back to the breath, to the moment. Deliberate practice does make for better. It’s enough to encourage me to continue my practice. My moods and thoughts are getting healthier. Whenever I find my thoughts veering off in the wrong direction, I try to picture them as clouds passing in the sky. I let go of the emotions they stir in me though I do feel the resistence. I tell myself it is the right thing to do.  I send them back into the clouds passing in the sky. I feel the turnaround, the resistence melting away, the letting go of bad thoughts and feelings.

Now, WordPress tells me I have 4 hours left. I can still renew by paying. No, I’m keeping it simple and free. Hopefully I will still be here, in this my special tapping space.

 

 

 

 

 

TENDING TO MY WORDS AND GARDEN

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It is after lunch time in Saskatoon. I want to just walk away from the dishes and sink into reading the Jonathan Kellerman mystery book, Heartbreak Hotel and sip my cuppa cardamom tea. The tea is 3-in-one (tea,sugar,cream) given to me by a friend. It’s most delicious and full of good stuff. I have a large jar of the spice to make the tea once the 3-in-one is gone. Now I have another use for it besides cooking and baking. Looking at the pile of messy dishes made me feel squirrely. They look and feel like my messy brain. So I did my 4-7-8 breathing and started scraping dirty plates and putting things back in the fridge. And voila, dishes done!

Now I’m sitting pretty in front of my keyboard. The book still beckons me but I want to start this conversation. I need a hook to get into writing this post on this 7th day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. It’s a warm day. I had such a wonderful experience writing on the deck yesterday. I wanted a repeat and rushed out with my laptop after breakfast of one fried egg with a sprinkle of hemp seeds and a cantaloupe slice. I’m still on track with my meal plans. For lunch I had small portions of brown rice with coconut oil, roast beef and stir fried zucchini, mushrooms and celery and a bit of ferments. I’m feeling some progress – slimmer and less bloating. Or is it wishful thinking?

Once outside, I did my qigong moves to loosen up. Then I got distracted by my garden. The laptop and writing were abandoned on the deck. It was a good thing because the tomatoes have sprung up and out in the last couple of days. I struggled to get them hooped. I am Pretty pleased with their growth. They seem healthier and sturdier than my other years’ tomatoes. I’m looking forward to replenish my tomato sauce supply in the fall.

 

Once in the garden, it is hard to do just one thing. Everything begs for attention – just like Sheba. She lays content in her hollowed out spot in the yard, watching as I prune and pinch the tomatoes, weed the rows of peas and beans and hoe around the squash and goji berries. She’s like a benevolent supervisor. No criticism! Now that we’ve had rain, our water barrels are full again. It took a few trips with the watering can before everything was watered.

Now it is time to tend to my words. I’m committed to walking them. After all, what good are they if I can’t live up to them? I’m taking care not to say any falsehoods or things that need not be said. Why waste my time and words. They are both precious. Till tomorrow.