This post is written for the weekend Trifecta Challenge: This weekend we’re asking for exactly 33 words inspired by the following photo. Please remember that if you use the photo on your own blog, you must give proper credit (with clickable links).
Photo credit: Bérenger ZYLA / Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND
Life’s mirror reflects the things that I hold close. It may not involve truth, but it involves dreams. My dreams. And it will only make me see the things I want to see.
The morning air was crisp and it shocked my lungs as I inhaled. The sun was doing its best to warm the day but the cold still bit at my face as I walked. The tears kept flowing and froze to my cheeks. The all-too-familiar saline tasted bitter as I licked the frozen tears from the corner of my mouth.
I could still hear him shouting as I reached the end of the driveway and tried to drown him out by listening to the snow crunching under my feet. The road welcomed me and the freedom of the open air embraced me. I had made this walk many times and the path was becoming worn with my pain.
The argument played in my head like a movie trailer. Scattered pieces of the screaming match from this morning and all of the other fights combined into a three-minute synopsis of an unhealthy relationship. There were no physical marks but the emotional scars ran so deep I could almost feel them etched in my skin.
From my hiding spot, I could hear the engine of his car come to life. Peace was only moments away and I involuntarily held my breath as I watched him speed down the road. An immense sense of relief poured over me as I followed my well-carved path back to the house.
I knew in my heart what the next step was and I finally had the courage to see it through. I was ready to put myself first, ready to see the value in my happiness. I was ready to find a love that I could accept and one that I deserved.
The time had come to tell him it was over.
(photo credit: tomorrowstheme.blogspot.com)
This post was written for the Trifecta Challenge:
1a : the measured or measurable period during which an action, process, or condition exists or continues : duration
b : a nonspatial continuum that is measured in terms of events which succeed one another from past through present to future
c : leisure <time for reading>
2: the point or period when something occurs : occasion
3a : an appointed, fixed, or customary moment or hour for something to happen, begin, or end <arrived ahead of time>
b : an opportune or suitable moment <decided it was time to retire> —often used in the phrase about time <about time for a change>
Please remember:
As the days get warmer I have a renewed sense of faith in nature, but the person responsible for daylight savings time has a very perverse sense of humor. I know the typical lyrics of the song are “Morning has broken”, but in my case, sitting in my living room at 6:00 am, that is not the case. Morning seems to be broken. The blackness that swallowed my house in the night still holds these four walls in its confines and my outside world is invisible.
(this is a photo of my front lawn taken with no flash….isn’t it beautiful?)
After several cups of coffee and much patience, that darkness gives way to the day and the world is brought to life again. When the sun finally graces the sky in our hemisphere, its heat seems to increase in intensity each day. The dank smell of dirt pushing its way through the melting snow permeates my nose and the morning darkness no longer holds the same power it once had. Light breathes life into the day and the earth stretches and yawns.
Soon the mornings will become brighter and rising to greet the day will require much less effort. The days will become longer and the seasonal creatures will poke their heads from hibernation to inhabit the freshly revealed landscapes. Blades of grass will breathe deeply after being suffocated under the weight of the snow, flowers will bloom and allergens will perform their invisible dance .
Within the morning darkness, the promise of spring awaits.
Technically it is still Sunday, but Romantic Monday has captured me again! Thank you Edward Hotspur for encouraging us to pour our hearts out.
Only you can make my heart skip a beat with one look. You see me like no other person ever will because you don’t look at me, you look into me. You see my beauty beyond the boundaries of flesh. You see my soul. You see the love and happiness that I hold close, but you also see the pain and heartache that balances me.
Only you can light my skin on fire with a single touch. A simple gesture, a hand gently tracing my cheek and my body warms to your touch. Your lips barely graze mine but I feel a slight quiver sensing the emotion of that moment. I know the passion that lurks behind that kiss.
Only you make me want to dream of the impossible because everything seems attainable with you by my side. There is no limit to imagination. There is only you, encouraging my dreams and wanting to be a part of them. You understand when I hear whispers in the wind. You enjoy my child-like excitement when I discover new stories in my head and you appreciate that I have to put them to paper as soon as I have them.
Only you know my need to be accepted for who I am and not who people want me to be. You encourage me to be an individual and embrace the quirks that have created the person I have become. You appreciate that I feel like a Raggedy-Ann in a Barbie Doll world, but you would rather be Raggedy-Andy than Ken any day of the week.
Only you are the part of me I didn’t know I was missing. It will always be only you.
If only I knew where to find you.
I love blogging. It allows me to truly be myself, to express words and feelings that come to mind without having to think about them. Stories that would be otherwise untold rise to the surface and hurtle themselves at the page through my fingertips.
When I jumped into this creative ocean, I had no idea what to expect and absolutely no realization that I would cast myself into a sea of churning drops of water that, although they combine to create a large body of water, each possess qualities that make them truly unique. The vast array of blogs that I read allows me to look at the world through different eyes and see things in a way that may have escaped my attention. They create a path for me to follow through a portal into an inspired world that I may never have found on my own.
(image courtesy of naturealive.asia)
The Trifecta Challenges embody these varying degrees of interpretation. A great number of bloggers are given the same challenge and no two entries are similar in any respect, apart from following the rules for submitting posts. Each writer is struck by a lightning bolt of creativity but that bolt is generated from a completely exclusive storm and the raindrops of ideas saturate only their mind.
When I post an idea I look forward to the comments I receive. Initially I would have child-like reaction if a comment held an opposing view, but I have come to appreciate being able to see my thoughts from another perspective. Each comment is like a golden pin of light shining through the words, altering the original picture and making me look at my own thoughts in a different way.
This blogging journey has expanded my mind, not only in my writing but also my ability to ingest words from other writers and see the world through their eyes. And whether their world is dripping in sarcasm, prolific with poetry or fraught with haunting truths I enjoy being a part of their journey as well as having them be a part of my literary pilgrimage.
How has blogging changed your world?
Finding time to set aside precious hours, or even minutes, for those things we truly love to do seems to be more difficult as we get older. Responsibilities pressure us into doing the right thing and prioritizing family, work and chores leaving little time to do the things we yearn to do. Hobby items collect dust and ideas for great stories become trapped in the vault of our mind waiting for that large iron door to swing open and let the ideas tumble into the forefront of our thoughts.
(image courtesy of Google)
I am learning to make more time for myself. In the winter months it is much easier to make that time since I work the normal Monday to Friday hours that an office job dictates. However, when the resort opens for the season, I am back to six days a week and generally my work days start at 7:00 am and ends at 6:00 pm, if I’m lucky. The summer affords me one day off a week which is spent catching up on the aforementioned priorities, leaving little time for recreation or writing. I am an avid golfer and at the end of last summer had not even played one full round of golf. My gazebo waved at me from my front lawn as I passed it on my way to work and simply sighed as I dragged my weary body into the house on my way back from work.
This summer will be different. Life is far to short to spend all of my time making someone else happy and forgetting about my own happiness. Changing patterns and routines is difficult, but I have already begun the process to alter my patterns. With the help and advice of friends I am slowly learning to make myself my first priority. My alarm encourages me to rise an hour earlier than normal and my laptop is eagerly awaiting the gentle touch of my fingers on its keyboard. My golf bag smiles knowingly at me every time I pass it on my way to work, somehow sensing that this golf season will be the pendulum swing our relationship needs to get back on track. And my gazebo seems more inviting than ever.
I have finally come to realize that the change can only begin with me. If I don’t make time to do the things I love to do, nobody else is going to make that time for me. I am going to print this post and put it on the wall in my office to remind me that life is not all about work. Although I enjoy my job, work is a means to an income. Nothing will ever be as satisfying as writing a paragraph rich in imagery or hitting that perfect drive down the middle of the fairway.
Do you make a point to set aside time for the things you love?
The Daily Prompt today is this – You wake up tomorrow morning to find all your plans have been cancelled for the next seven days and $10,000 on your dresser. Tell us about your week.
This post would have been completely different had there been an extra zero in the dollar amount left on my dresser. That scenario would have included a well drafted letter to my employer thanking the company for covering my bills for the last ten years. Or perhaps just a postcard from a beach with a few expletives and a hastily drawn cartoon of me in a hammock with a Margarita in my hand. I guess the resignation letter would depend on the amount of tequila I had consumed before the writing process began.
Having only $10,000.00 in cash and a week in which to spend it led me in one direction – my mom. My mother has fallen victim to ill-health over the last few years and is slowly giving away her freedom, piece by piece. She lost the vision in one of her eyes due to nothing more than simply aging and had to give up driving. She sometimes feels like a prisoner in her own home until either my brother or I spring her from her cage for a few precious hours of escape.
She wants nothing more than to travel to Niagara Falls and visit the Butterfly Conservatory and that random pile of unlaundered cash on my dresser is just the thing needed to get her there. Our week would be spent in the best hotel (maybe we’ll get to hook up with The Hook) pampering ourselves as much as possible. We would tour the Conservatory at a leisurely pace, taking in the beauty that metamorphosis created and watching life breathe in three dimensions.
(image courtesy of Google)
So…..if anyone has $10,000.00 to spare, I’ll clear off my dresser and text you the address.
The weekly writing challenge immediately made me think of one photo and I scoured through my pictures to find it. As you may notice from the stellar 70’s and early 80’s decor this picture was taken many years ago. If I had to guess, I would say it was 1986 ish.
The challenge is this: For this challenge, we want to see a photo of someone looking truly happy. Not “I’m-smiling-for-this-photo” happy, but really, deeply, twinkle-in-the-eyes happy. When we’re smiling a genuine smile, our whole faces get involved — our whole bodies, for that matter. There’s a light in our eyes. We look relaxed; there’s a forced tension in a fake smile.
Then we want to know why: what’s going on in the photo? What are you (or they) thinking about at the exact moment? (And if you really want to get into it: what happens next?)
My Nana used to think I was the biggest brat on the planet. Hard to believe, I know, but that is a true story. I was a high-spirited child with a penchant for making my presence known and I can see how, for adults, the novelty would have worn off quickly. Thankfully as I evolved into a teenager and young adult I no longer felt the need to be the centre of attention and I climbed the rungs of my grandmothers favoritism ladder.
This photo was taken during Christmas holidays. Each festive season my grandparents would pack their car and make the pilgrimage north to enjoy the spectral portrait of our white Christmas. Nana and I would spend hours in the kitchen cooking, baking and harmonizing to any Christmas Carol we could. My dad would occasionally chime in and it became a three-part harmony and these moments became some of my fondest holiday memories.
After the casserole was in the oven, I left the kitchen to spend some time with my Grampa as he sat the recliner watching television. My cat had decided that the recliner was the perfect post to sharpen his non-existent nails and began to rub his front paws on the side of head rest. Grampa leaned around to see what was causing the movement to his chair and my cat stealthily, and with the grace of a fighter, smacked my grandfather in the face with his right paw hard enough to break his glasses. Had there been a cartoon balloon hovering over my grandfather’s head it would have been filled with words similar to the descriptive fights in the old Batman comics. Whap! Pow! It was feline poetry in motion and my cat sauntered away, satisfied he had made his point.
As my grandfather slowly collected his mangled glasses from his lap, my giggles began. I tried my best to control the laughter. I knew Grampa was annoyed and my snickering was only going to add fuel to his fire. I quickly made my way back to the kitchen to tell Nana what had happened and we laughed. And we laughed some more. We couldn’t seem to stop. I replayed the assault in slow motion and we laughed harder. Tears were streaming down my face and I had trouble catching my breath. When the last of the giggles were wrung from my body my ribs ached and my eyes were swollen and bloodshot. There was enough vision left in those ocular portals to see my Nana sneaking down the hallway to change her pants!!
I have many fond memories of visits with my grandparents before they left for the world they now inhabit. I hope they remember this moment with as much fondness as I do. (at least I hope Nana does!)
The Daily Prompt got me again!! And I love the challenge of omitting a vowel. I truly hope you won’t find an “o” in the below paragraph!
There are 26 letters in the English language, and we need every single one of them. Want proof? Choose a letter and write a blog post without using it. (Feeling really brave? Make it a vowel!)
Every day we are ruled by nature. Weather dictates activities and temperatures mandate apparel. Climactic shifts are in the near future and spring is imminent.
Winter jackets will be put away, and in exchange, spring ensembles will appear. Sandals will be the new sneakers.
The white blanket will melt and reveal the buds lying in wait. Birds will sing their lyrical strains and creatures will saturate the nights with strained lullabies.
Cherished spring – we wait with prescience.
For all intents and purposes, my dog is my child. She has been in my life for 5 1/2 years and has completely wrapped herself in my heart-strings. Decisions I make are based on what would be best for her and how my decisions will affect her. Since my divorce, I have not spent a night away from her – until last night. I went to the city for a work function and left her at home. My neighbor graciously agreed to come and tend to her needs but it was difficult leaving her behind.
I can only imagine how a parent feels leaving their child with a babysitter for the first time. The feeling of anxiety was overwhelming as I drove out of my driveway. My intuition assured me she would be fine, but my guilt kept prodding at that intuition and the inner struggle was awful.
The Guest Appreciation night was a great success, but several times during the evening I felt the pang of regret knowing she was home alone. I’m sure she slept the whole time and enjoyed having the bed to herself but I could not disregard the fleeting moments that my brain was distracted by thoughts of my furry friend. As I write this, I find it a little odd that my connection with my puppy dog is that strong but she has been my friend and confidant through many tumultuous times and I would be lost without her.
I awoke at 6:30 this morning and, as I always do, called her name. When my bloodshot eyes focused on my surroundings I realized that I was in a hotel two hours away and I missed her. Had I not been giving a ride home to two of my coworkers, I would have hastily thrown on my clothes and driven home at that moment.
All is right in my world again. I arrived home to her welcoming smile and an exuberant greeting and we have assumed our usual positions – me on the couch with my laptop and Callaway curled in a ball at my feet.
Do your pets have the same hold on you? Or am I slowly going crazy?
polysyllabic profundities 