Yearly Archives: 2013

Stressing the “un’s”

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Life is a mixed bag. Stress is inevitable, but more than likely comes from things that begin with “un”. Things that are unpredictable, uncontrollable, unfamiliar or unseen cause us undue pressure.

We become very uncomfortable and somewhat unsettled forging ahead into the unknown feeling unprepared. We may lack the understanding needed to avoid feeling unsure.

Life can be unfair. Illness can be unforgiving and waiting can be unbearable. The “un’s” hover relentlessly and we are unable to regain a sense of control.

I am struggling to beat those “un’s” into submission, but they are unrelenting and refuse to allow the knots of their hold to be undone.

I, however, am unwilling to admit defeat. That is unacceptable.

Concrete walls and a machine that goes “ping”

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There are no four walls that contain more joy and more misery than a hospital. A place of healing can quickly become a place of sadness with the reading of a few numbers or a somber look on a Clinician’s face.

The four walls that currently contain my mother are filled with uncertainty and questions. She is being kept comfortable and pain-free and the staff have been attentive and kind. But there is still a shroud of nagging doubt – a cloud that hovers over my mother’s hospital bed threatening to flood the room with reality.

The machines beep, the fluids continue intravenously and the revolving door of doctors, nurses and visitors continues to spin. Kind words are spoken, prayers are uttered and friends become more like family.

Thank you all for the words of support and the hugs sent across the blogosphere. It truly means a lot. And even though the embrace is not tangible, I can still feel it.

A long and bumpy road

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I haven’t been able to spend much time with my words for the last few days.  My mom went into the hospital on Thursday morning and I have been spending all of my days with her.  She is quite sick and we’re not sure where we go from here.

It’s a helpless feeling watching someone lie in a hospital bed, looking so frail, and knowing that I can do nothing but sit and keep her company.  I have done a bit of reading, but more than anything I watch her sleep.  In her current world of tubes and medications, she dreams a lot and talks in her sleep.  I lean forward and strain to hear what she is saying, but nothing she says is very intelligible.  I’d like to think that somewhere in the haze of her drug induced suspension of consciousness that my father is whispering in her ear from his place beyond our world and keeping her company as she sleeps.

Almost as much as I miss my writing, I miss reading all of your words.  Our family has a long and bumpy road ahead, but I hope I can find some time to distract myself from reality and lose myself in the happy land of WordPress.

I am on my way back to pass my day entombed by the drab walls of the hospital and listen to the beeps and hisses of the monitors.  My words still churn in my head, but now they form prayers for my mom.

Dance in the rain

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Yesterday was the first day I didn’t post a blog since August 1st. My mom went into the hospital on Thursday, so here is a post from earlier in August. I am living in a storm, but still trying to face that bad weather with a positive attitude.

Polysyllabic Profundities's avatarpolysyllabic profundities

“Life isn’t about avoiding the storm, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.” ~ Unknown

We all live pretty comfortable lives and it’s easy to skip through in the sunny times, but it’s what we do in the face of adversity that defines the type of person we are.  We can choose to hide from the bad weather in our lives, or we can choose to embrace the storm and learn to appreciate the gifts that it brings.

You have to want not simply to be alive, but to LIVE the life you have been given.  It is certainly easier to want to shelter yourself until the bad weather passes, but you may be passing up a great opportunity to throw caution to the wind and free yourself in the rain that storm provides.

If you take the risk, that cleansing shower of rain may wash away any negativity…

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Find your wings

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I had a completely different post planned for today, but after talking to a friend that I haven’t seen in a while, my whole mindset changed.

wings(image credit: photo-dictionary.com)

I believe we all begin our journey of life with a full set of wings. I’m not talking about Angel wings, but invisible pinions that give us a chance to rise above ourselves and discover new horizons. Somewhere along our path, our wings may be clipped.  They may mutate from their original form and, although we still embody the same freedom of originality, our chance to soar becomes stifled and we miss some of that ability for latitude.

Life can be a daunting journey, fraught with challenges and roadblocks, but those feathered appendages help us maneuver beyond those obstacles with little effort.  They give us room for movement that may not otherwise be possible allowing us a chance for an alternate illusion.

Our mere existence on this planet can be described as a roller coaster, a flurry of adventure and blurry images that stream through our line of sight at Mach 4.  Somewhere in the blistering speed of that coach car we miss the visions we should be focusing on and get lost in the overwhelming barrage of outside interference.  We are inundated with life.  We become a victim of its vicious nature and forget to allow ourselves the power to fly because we become saturated with apprehension and doubt.

If you allow it, life will over-stimulate your senses and it will swallow you whole.  It will envelop you and wrap your waking moments, keeping you mummified until you surrender your power at the end of a tumultuous and exhausting day.

Find your wings.  Give yourself permission to feel that freedom again and take your life back.  If the path you are on does not feel like the path you chose – fly.  Rise high above it and give yourself a new perspective of your life.  You may find that you still had those wings all along but you just forgot how to use them.

Hard pressed to share – Trifecta post

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Divorce existed in their near future.  Her words still hung heavily in the air and pummeled his eardrums with the weight of their meaning.  It had finally been uttered aloud and it was no longer an idle threat that they were reaching the demise of their relationship.  The reality suffocated him.  His gambling had driven a wedge between them and he refused to get help for a problem he didn’t think defined him.

As he entered the casino, the familiar sound of bells and machines soothed him.  He was home.  He had never felt more at ease than he did in this concrete tomb of cacophony.  Each of the dealers knew him by name but he only took that to be a sign of professionalism and not a reflection of addiction.  The Craps table beckoned and he succumbed to its welcoming embrace.

The dice were magical.  His fours ‘hard-ways’ hit over and over and the stack of chips increased exponentially in front of him.  New rollers took their place and his stack continued to grow.  Luck was certainly being a lady tonight.  After what must have been hours he asked dealer to color him up, he collected his chips and cashed them in.

casino cash

He was given the high-roller suite and stood on the balcony with the wad of bills.  He didn’t want the cashier to tell him how much he had won when he cashed out.  The wind tousled his hair and in one swift movement he cast the money over the edge of the balcony.  The rain of bills spread swiftly through the air and littered the ground below.  The crowd preparing to enter the casino pecked at the bills like chickens at their feed.

She may have taken half of his life, but she wasn’t getting half of his winnings.

~

Written for the Trifecta challenge (and the photo was taken on my one and only cruise – I didn’t win the money, but my friend did!)

On to this week’s one-word prompt which, this week, is inspired by the recent arrival of the Hong Kong monsoons and the start of April in general.rain (transitive verb)
1: to pour down
2: to give or administer abundantly <rained blows on his head>

Please remember:

  • Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
  • You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
  • The word itself needs to be included in your response.
  • You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
  • Only one entry per writer.
  • If your post doesn’t meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz.
  • Trifecta is open to everyone. Please join us.

Good luck!

I’m not sure if I’d call it a possession…Daily Prompt

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The Daily Prompt lured me in again with its devious, thought-provoking challenge – Prized Possession:  Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a child. What became of it?

For all intents and purposes, it wasn’t actually mine.  It was tangible and readily accessible when I summoned up the courage to play games with it, but I had no ownership of it.  I couldn’t play with it on a whim because I had little to no control over the time I would get to spend with it.  Whatever time I did get to spend with it made me love it even more.

It had many different features and helped me develop a true sense of competition.  It had a hard-outer shell, but once you worked it in a little bit, it became much softer and more pliable. At certain points in my life, I actually tried to emulate this item.

I have never lost my attachment to it.  If anything that attachment has only grown stronger over the years.  I never had to think back and wonder what became of it because it is still near and dear to my heart.  It resides five minutes from my house in a house all its own.  I still play games with it, like the old days, but the games are different now.

This prized possession, the item I am still so attached to is the father of my two nephews, my brother and one of my best friends.

The well has run dry

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dry well

(image credit: gamertherapist.com)

I have been writing this blog since August 1st and in that time I have had, it seems, quite a bit to say.  But lately I find myself running out of steam when it comes to the verbosity I have enjoyed and I am struggling for ideas to write about.  The well of idioms has run dry.

I have really cherished the hours spent putting my thoughts into written form and receiving feedback from all of you that are faithful readers, those who have become friends and those that happen by every now and then.  It is with a bit of a heavy heart that I have decided to no longer continue this journey.  With the busy season fast approaching at work, I don’t want to put mediocre words to a page just to fill a space.

If the urge strikes me to write, I may put something on Facebook every now and then, but the challenge of coming up with ideas is becoming a little too much.  Thank you all for following me through this journey and I want to leave you with one last thought from the creative vault:

April Fool’s.

See you tomorrow!!

Hoarding gives me the Heebie-jeebies

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The Daily Prompt asks this question today:

Does a messy home (or office) make you anxious and cranky, or is cleaning something you just do before company comes over?

coffee_table

(image credit: accentondesign.net)

The items on my coffee table do not have to be positioned at precise angles at varying degrees, but things do have a certain place in my house.  I am not fanatical about cleaning, but I am stringent about being organized.  I don’t get many surprise visitors because I live in a very rural area, but if people drove off the beaten path and arrived at my home, I would not be frantically searching for the Swiffer or tossing newspapers or wrappers under the couch cushions.

The same goes for my desk at work.  Sure there are piles of paper and file folders, but they are organized piles that I strategically am able to work through because everything has its place.

Having said that, the entrance way into my house could potentially negate anything I’ve mentioned about seeming organized, but that will be rectified soon.  My entrance way is the only spot for me to store my patio cushions and other outdoor items that are longing to be freed from their winter incarceration.  It’s nothing close to being a Hoarder’s episode, but it does make me a bit anxious when I see everything piled in one spot.  Hazmat suits are not required, but until I win the lottery I will have to deal with the negative aspects of living in a house that is only 650 square feet.  At least the rest of it is organized!

Here is what some others had to say:

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