A thousand apologies for not writing to you for almost six months. We have had so much happen in the world since I was here in September. I’m not going to rehash all the politics. My blood pressure is good this morning. The weather is drizzly and foggy where I am but it is almost spring. I can tell without a calendar because my allergies are off the charts. I’m hoping to get my vaccination soon. I’m still working from home and honestly I’m fine if it stays that way. Or if I win a lottery. Whichever.
I’ve been busy crocheting critters for friends and family. And planning a wedding for June that we plan on live streaming. Only the family in attendance and one set of friends who are also vaccinated. We already have my partner’s clothes, vest and kilt. My dress should be here shortly. Now that the weather is improving (today’s rain not withstanding) we are getting ready to start on a patio in the back yard where we plan on having our ceremony. My soon to be sister-in-law will be officiating our handfasting. And I am making the cake. Keeping it as simple as possible. I don’t see the point in spending a ton of money. Except on the patio. That we can keep using.
I have a project board started with drawings and movable pieces for the yard. We have our size and it’s scaled to fit the patio, trees, where the cars will be parked. Room for the tent we’re renting for the wedding. Can you tell I’m ready for the wedding and this patio? My OCD kicked in once we started planning. I have a three ring binder of notes and pictures. This is a second wedding for both of us. Another reason we are not going very big. Less drama. We’re doing what we want on a scale we are comfortable with. More people should do that. The divorce rate would probably be lower.
I hope you are all ready for spring. I need to go through my Pinterest boards and figure out what flowers we are planting putting in around the patio. Need to do something to work with our wedding colors. Don’t worry. I have lots of ideas…
My apologies for not being here since April. I have been working from home. And, yes, I have been wearing a mask when I have had to go out. I have too many doctor appointments to not wear a mask. Has it gotten any more comfortable? Not really. I don’t have quite as much anxiety when I’m out. But I usually have an asthma attack by the time I get back to my car.
But here we are in September. I have started yet another round of shots in my back for arthritis. There are still little yellow flowers blooming at the edge of the forest I live in. We are still getting tomatoes off our plants on the deck.
TV shows are finding ways to be socially distanced. Football is back and trying to keep players healthy and fans socially distanced. People are still getting sick from Covid-19. And I still don’t feel safe going out anywhere. Especially now that a lot of local stores are getting lax on there precautionary measures. Masks are about the only thing they are still requiring and many people still do not wear them or do not wear them correctly.
The news just makes me sad or angry. I have to limit how much of it I watch or read. It’s easier to just focus on the few shows I enjoy and football now that it is back. And my crochet. But that is another blog all together. Stay safe my friends…
It’s late. Yeah, I know. But I made it. I’m back again. I have completed two projects today. And I did the boring paperwork thing I hate doing. It got done in between the two projects. I made myself do it before I started on the second project to make sure I got it done. That way starting on the project felt more like a reward for getting the paperwork out of the way.
I even got some filing put away. I guess today was about finishing things. Not too bad for a Monday. With the world on lock-down, finding a way to feel like I’m accomplishing something is a good way to put the anxiety on the back burner. Kind of surprising considering how much news I actually watched today. But let’s not talk about that. I already have a headache.
Let’s talk about the cute Fennec fox I crocheted today. He’s adorable and cuddly. I also finished a scarf. I love to crochet. Probably why I’ve been doing it for well over 30 years. I’ll save those stories for my other blog. That to-do list will get tackled tomorrow. But for now, I think I’ve accomplished enough for today. Now for some sleep. Sweet dreams…
I woke up from a nightmare this morning. Haven’t had one in a long time, not like this. I woke up falling. I don’t have to give you all the details although I do remember them quite well. The main thing is that a decision was made and suddenly the person in the dream was me and I was falling inside a stairwell.
I woke up before I hit anything or hit bottom. I hate those dreams. For me, they always mean something is out of control. I was driving in an earlier part of the dream and that was definitely me. But I was trying to get away from the area I was in. That lead to the character in the dream being at the top of that stairwell.
I’ve been thinking about making some changes in my life: health, money, housing. It’s not hard to make the connection. I feel like there are things out of my control. Believe me, I am not happy about it. But I think the last part, where the woman at the stairwell made a decision (I remember her being asked what are you gonna do now), is very important. Don’t make rash decisions.
Decide what you want to happen. Research what you need to make that happen. See that list as goals to get your end result. Then come up with a plan that will get you there quickly and smartly. Get help when you need it. Make smart changes where you need to. Trust yourself and trust your instincts. If something doesn’t feel right, step back and reevaluate. Most importantly, you have to actually start work on your list of goals. Don’t just sit there looking at. It’s not your Christmas list. You have to put in some work to make those goals happen.
I’ve always said happiness is a choice. You can choose to stay in a stagnant situation and say you’re happy. Or you can choose to make a move to a better situation and do what makes you happy. Trust yourself.
TAXES! CANCER! VOLDEMORT!
There! I said all the scary words.
I realized today that once you put a name on something it can make it bigger, scarier, more recognizable. For a long time I just thought I was having back and hip pain. Now I know I have sciatica and scoliosis. Those are scary words that come with medicine and tests and shots. The words make them more real. Before it was just pain that I could try to ignore and work through and go about my business as best I could.
Now I know that I will have pain if I forget my medicine. I know I will have follow-up appointments to keep in the coming months. There will be other doctors to see.
The point is that we let things grow until they overtake us. But do they really need to? If we are getting on with our bad selves before we know the names, do we really need to stop living our lives once we know those names? I saw a new doctor today who said he was running tests for a lot of things including a brain tumor, of all things. Does he really think I have a brain tumor? No, but he needs to rule it out. Does it scare the hell out of me? Yes, but I’m not going to let it change how I’m living in the week or two while I wait on test results.
To paraphrase my favorite nerd, fear of the name only increases fear of the thing. Learn the names, yes. Do research so you know what it is, yes. But fear it, no. Stand strong in knowledge and get on with your bad self.
I’m not sure why I came up with the name Veronica for my muse just now but we’ll roll with it. At least until she shows up and decides if she likes it.
Yep, she’s gone AWOL. I haven’t heard from her in a while. Well, I’m not sure that’s completely accurate. The ideas Veronica and I generate are not missing. It’s more like
Veronica and I are not on speaking terms at the moment. I’m not sure which of us is to blame for that. Or if either of us is to blame for it. Blame is an ugly word. Let’s not us that.
Veronica and I are…socially incompatible at the moment.
…that sounds just as weird. *sigh*
This is November. It’s National Novel Writing Month, NaNoWriMo. I’m supposed to be letting the words fly from my fingertips and writing fifty thousand words or more in 30 days. This is my second blog. Do Facebook posts count? Granted, there was a death in the family last month but I have had no desire to write. Not like I used to. Historically you would find me with no less than two notepads of various sizes and half a dozen pens in multiple colors. People know me for this so well they often gift me with writing paraphernalia.
At the moment, I might have a pen or two in my purse. My phone has a notepad app on it but I’m not sure I have a piece of paper on me other than a tissue. How does this even happen? I have felt distanced from my writing for a while now. For a long time, the writing was an escape for me. I don’t have as many things I need to escape now. I’m not sure how to channel the same energy into the writing now that the emotional need is different. I’ve tried really hard not to let go of the writing. When I look back at some of the things I’ve done, I really like the work I’ve done and think it would be publishable if I keep at it. But then I don’t do anything with it. I don’t write anything else. Veronica does come knocking. I get more ideas and I do write them down so I don’t lose them. But they don’t grow into anything more. It saddens me to see notes scribbled in a notebook between shopping lists waiting for me to shape them into characters and plot.
Sometimes it feels like I don’t know how to get motivated. Which is absurd when you think about it. As many blogs as I’ve written about how to get your ass in gear over everything else, I should be able to figure this one out. Yet I here I sit with Veronica looking over my shoulder wondering why I’m not working on the idea she gave me. Hopefully she won’t get too mad at me.
The weather in my native North Carolina is finally starting to feel like fall. We routinely have very warm nights in October all the way to Halloween but this year we are already getting low temperatures in the 50’s and 40’s. The leaves are turning and the mountains are even starting to get frost warnings. I love the fall.
I rearranged all of my furniture and stuff a few days ago. It had been over a year. I didn’t realize it had been so long. When we don’t change things up we get stuck in a rut. We may not realize it but we start to stagnate in our own stench. Sounds appetizing, doesn’t it?
Our energy, our chi, flows around us and moves with us. When we don’t let it have some room to breathe it becomes stale. It needs fresh air now and then to re-energize it. That includes our spaces and how we arrange the things around us. Yes, the way you stack the magazines on the coffee table can actually be important. Did you know that the principles of feng shui say not to store anything under your bed? It blocks energy flow at night when you are the weakest. Now, ask me how much stuff I had to relocate from under my bed after a whole year…
Turn off the news. Ignore the politics for awhile. Get outside and enjoy the sunshine and the cooler breeze. Appreciate the leaves turning red, orange, and gold. Decorate your porch with pumpkins and scarecrows and mums. Recharge your energy before winter gets here.
How many masks do you wear? Are you one person at work? Another person at home? Someone else around your friends? Do you know who the real you is?
A friend of mine on Facebook posted a meme today about being true to your authentic self. It struck a chord with me. I’m certainly a different person at work than I am at home. The real me is still inside there but she doesn’t come out much. Why do we do that?
For me personally, I only feel like Me when I’m alone or with someone I trust a whole lot. I was Me when I was in my dorm room alone, dancing with my headphones on. I was Me sitting up until 3:00 am reading because I loved the story so much I couldn’t put it down. I’m Me when I put down the car windows and sing at the top of my lungs.
I’m the most Me when I’m passionate about what I’m doing. If I can’t show you how I feel about something then I either don’t like it a lot or I don’t feel comfortable showing you the real me. The problem starts when other people tell us how to act. Don’t get me wrong. There are times and places for everything and appropriate behaviors accordingly. But when you’re a child and you’re told to put down the book your reading or to stop singing and go clean your room or to go change clothes because those colors don’t match…you lose a part of who You are.
Find the parts of you that you hide from the rest of the world. Find those things you are passionate about. Share them with someone who has no clue who you are. Go play in the rain. Dance and sing. We don’t stop playing because we grow old. We grow old because we stop playing. Remember the things that make you happy and bring them out for the world to see. Be true to you.
Don’t get your panties in a wad. I’m not talking about diverging arguments on the origin of life. I’m talking about how we change as people. Maturity comes with time and experience. Note I didn’t say age. You can be in your 40’s and still act like a 12-year-old. I said maturity, all the changes you go through (hopefully) as you experience life and learn how to interact with other people.
Think back to the person you were at age 9, 15, 18. Are you the same person now? I know I’m not. I have learned so much in those years since then there is no way I could still be the same person. Experiences in life change us, whether for better or worse. If you become a famous writer, would you want new readers to know the person you are right now? Or do you want them to judge you based on memories of the kid who sat behind you in English class? If you meet someone and they talk about how a person was in high school or college, there’s a really good chance that person is nothing like they are now at 30, 35, 40 years old.
Whether we like it or not, we judge other people. Everybody does it to some degree. We learn to judge because we learn to make comparisons. As little kids we are open to everything and absorb the world like a sponge takes up Kool-aid. Then we start to compare things. Do I like the blue one or the green one? We may not understand our choices but we make those choices just the same. As we get older, we realize we love blueberries but we hate green apples. Green apples become evil. We judge them. We look down on them. But there is nothing inherently evil about green apples.
The same thing happens with people. We may not like certain behaviors so we vilify people who exhibit those behaviors. But people change. You can’t judge a 40-year-old person you have never met based on the opinion of someone who knew that person when he/she was 16. Well, you can judge that person but how is that fair to them or yourself? You limit yourself when you don’t do your own research and form your own opinion without bias.
We all have our own behaviors that others might find strange or disagree with. Does that mean our behavior is wrong? Does it mean the other person is an asshole? Why does it even have to be an issue? In order to grow as human beings, stop judging people. If you don’t want to get butthurt every time somebody disagrees with you, stop worrying about what other people think. Learn. Research. Study people and life and behaviors and the universe and everything else. Then form an intelligent opinion without bias from somebody else. That is maturity. That is evolution.
Sometimes we need a little help to figure stuff out. The big stuff. Deep stuff. Stuff we don’t always like to examine in the light of day. I came across a blog post today that really struck a nerve. Here is the part that brought me to tears:
“When I feel better, I am more creative and more willing to allow myself to take the risk of feeling good about myself. Isn’t that strange? It’s a thing that I do, that I’ve done for my whole life: I don’t want to take the risk of feeling good about myself, because I’m afraid that I’ll get complacent, or arrogant, or someone will discover the Truth that my Depression tells me: I’m not that great and I don’t deserve to feel good about myself.”
I’ve never felt like I was depressed. Sometimes aggravated and upset with myself that I haven’t ended up where I thought I would be by now. But I never considered it depression. When I found this blog post from Wil Wheaton, I realized that what he described is exactly how I feel. I don’t know when it started but I have the feeling it goes way back. Mom had a way of making me feel guilty for doing something well, even my grades. I wasn’t given a choice but to make good grades. Yet she would fuss at me for always having my nose in a book whether it was for school or not.
How do you learn to break free from that when it’s all you were ever taught by the one person who’s supposed to love you and encourage you and nurture you above all others? For a lot of the time I remember, my mother was a miserable person. Nothing I could do to make her happy, nor my dad or my brother. She seemed to revel in it. The more I read about depression, I’m not sure she had a choice. That doesn’t make it any less tragic to instill that thinking into your children.
Now that I recognize what’s going on, I have to stop the cycle. I don’t have kids but I do have friends and family. I don’t want my behavior to be a negative influence on anyone. I recently had a meltdown. I hit my breaking point. And I am now medicated. Hopefully, the medication will help me find my way back to the right path. The path I should have found my way to when I was supposed to be learning who I was.
Here’s the entire blog from Wil Wheaton: http://wilwheaton.net/2015/10/seven-things-i-did-to-reboot-my-life/