Category Archives: honesty

Strong work ethic and stronger cough medicine

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The rattling sound in my chest is an inescapable reminder that I am still sick.  That coupled with the fact that I could pass for James Earl Jones on the phone have steered me from my objective of getting back to work and led me right back to my couch.

I have never in my working life called in sick to just have a day off.   I would never have been able to enjoy a day knowing that my colleagues were doing extra duties to cover my work load because I had lied about my health to have a day of leisure.  Even when I am sick, I have a hard time not going to work.  But this time I didn’t have a choice – this flu kicked my butt.

I worked a few hours on the morning of the 30th and went back in for a few hours on the 31st but my road paved with good intentions quickly became the road home and I spend the next two and a half days curled in the fetal position in my living room praying for the coughing to stop.  I’m not a whiny sick person but whatever this bug was proved that even the strongest people can revert to child-like behavior when they don’t feel like themselves.

Today, after feeling a tremendous amount of guilt for missing so much work, I dragged myself out of bed and made a valiant effort to forget that I am still sick.  I was shocked to open the door to a temperature of -34C.  After only a few seconds of vehement debate, my car turned over and I was on my way to the lodge.  I was greeted warmly by my coworkers until I opened my mouth and spoke a few words.  Their smiles turned to looks of fear and, as they backed further away from me, they all told me to go home.

sick

As much guilt as I feel for not being able to perform my job, my bosses and fellow employees made me see that I was doing them more of an disservice by being there and possibly spreading my germs.  Although I am past the contagious stage, I quickly heeded their advice and am now curled up on my couch once again with three layers of blankets and a hot cup of tea.

On a side note:  I should have realized how severe this flu was when I discovered I haven’t had coffee in four days!!

The least important days

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Life moves at a million miles an hour and so many times I feel engulfed by its pace and overwhelmed by the many things I have to balance on a daily basis. It feels like several days attack me all at once but I have to learn to step back and change the pace of that onslaught.

There are always two days in every week that I should learn to ignore – yesterday and tomorrow.  They always weigh heavily on me and distract me from today.  I focus too much on what I didn’t accomplish yesterday and think forward too often about what is waiting for me tomorrow and I forget to live in the present.

TodayTomorrowYesterday

(image courtesy of babydearlyn.blogspot.com)

I need to embrace each day as an opportunity to live life to the fullest and accept whatever challenges may face me on that one day.  There is no sense in worrying about what tomorrow will bring because I will never be able to truly know that.  And  there is no point in reliving yesterday because it is over.  I cannot change the past.  It will reflect itself in my present, sure, but I can choose how much power I give to that reflection.

I need to lay yesterday to rest and not consume myself with thoughts of tomorrow.  My favorite saying (and my email address in short form) is Carpe Diem – Seize the Day.  Life happens and there is nothing I can do to stop the moving freight train of time.  I can only choose how I ride that train.  I can look out behind me and see where I’ve been, I can look ahead and ponder where I am headed or I can embrace the vibrations of life flowing through the train and live in the moment. The choice is mine.

Today, I am making the conscious choice to forget all of the things I didn’t accomplish yesterday.  I cannot go back and do anything differently.  Today, I am making a concerted effort not to think about tomorrow and what lies ahead.  Today, I am going to live only for today.  Carpe Diem!

Last minute shopper’s lament

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I pride myself on being organized, I have lists for my lists, but this year something has gone horribly wrong and I find myself running around shopping for Christmas with four short days until the big celebration.

My Christmas shopping list, compared to previous years, is much smaller because we, as a family, have become financially forward thinkers and have realized that we do not need to spend money on unnecessary items for adults simply to have presents under the tree with our names on them.  Christmas for me is about spending money on my nephews and spending quality time with my family while the two boys sort through the mounds of gifts with their name on them.

I used to bemoan the gift card.  It always seemed so impersonal and last-minute, but the reality of the gift card is that the receiver of the gift card can buy what they truly want.  For the past few years my nephews have been big fans of the gift card – iTunes, trendy clothing shops and Golf Town are among the favorites.

gift card

Each year I strive to think of something that will parallel, nay exceed, the gift card but I come up empty.  As the boy’s interests morph into things that they feel strongly about it is becoming easier to think of gifts that will compliment those interests.  Sometimes the gift card is still the best way to go, especially when I find myself shopping a mere four days before Christmas, but at least I know they will buy something they truly want and I don’t have to keep the receipt for when they want to return that “cool” gift their Aunt bought them for Christmas!!

Are you a last-minute shopper?  Or do you start in June?

Thumbs up

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I may have read one too many Dean Koontz novels or perhaps have seen more than my fair share of creepy movies.  Whatever the case may be, the conglomeration of macabre tales has left a lingering doubt in my mind when it comes to hitch hikers.

I have never entertained the thought of sticking my thumb in the air and hoping that a random stranger would stop and let me into their vehicle. And on that same train of thought, I have never picked up a hitch hiker that I didn’t know personally.  I occasionally feel guilty about driving by and leaving them with arm extended and a thumb reaching up like a beacon of hope.  I even go so far as to not look directly at them, although I know full well that they cannot see the direction in which my ocular orbs are focusing.

Scenes from movies play like a slide show in my brain and I imagine the most innocent looking person taking hours to remove my appendages and build them into a sinister piece of art nouveau.  It may be a warped interpretation but one that could salvage my digits and leave my body intact.

Although there is always the nagging doubt that picking up that hitch hiker will hold some sort of malice for me, I still feel the need, in my head, to explain why I will not invite them into the sanctuary of my four-wheeled haven.  I constantly feel the urge to roll down my window on the way by and tell them that my turn is only meters away and that they will have a better chance of a full ride with another driver. Regardless of any guilt I feel for not stopping, I still avert my eyes from their general direction and carry on, alone in my car, to my destination.

I am not labeling worldly travelers nor am I judging those whose means of travel relies on a digit that many animals do not possess.  I am simply propagating my existence in my over-active imagination and choosing to not share the sanctity of my car with a potential serial killer.

Best wishes to all of you that have the guts to be the hitcher or the driver that stops to pick up those wayward travelers.  The neurons in my brain will always fire in the same way and err on the side of caution but for those brave enough to pick up or be picked up – thumbs up to you.

Soul To Body – A book review

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I love to read.  I don’t make as much time for it as I would like because I am consumed with writing, but when I do ignore the incongruously fueled ideas that seep into my conscious hours I love to immerse myself in the written expression of others as consumed by words as I am.  I have been fortunate to meet many talented writers and genuinely nice people on this blog site.  And I also consider myself lucky to have read some of their published works.

I have written my amateur review on Amazon and wanted to share it with you in hopes that you would read the books written by this talented author, Lance Burson from My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.

Let me start this review by saying I began reading this book one evening after work and continued reading until it was finished.  I couldn’t put it down.

soul to body

Soul to Body is a compelling tale of love, loss and recovery.  Lance takes us on a journey through a memory portal and back as a man struggles with losing his wife and coping with raising a daughter while finding the strength to move forward.  Thoughts of his past sprinkle his present with poignant memories of his wife and he struggles to carve a path to the future that will please, not only himself but, his daughter and extended family.

It is a well constructed story of our connections to those closest to us and feeling lost within ourselves.  The characters Lance has created go beyond a mere story line and, as you delve further into the book, you become emotionally invested in the outcome of their journey.

If you haven’t already downloaded your copy, I highly recommend it!

A little witty banter

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Small talk is an art form.  It is the informal banter that covers no functional topics of conversation yet seems to fill the void of silence. People generally find dead air uncomfortable and prolonged periods of silence can be unbearable.  Regardless of whether or not we know the person, something compels us to bring up some inane conversation and we generally state some very obvious rhetoric to pass the time.

Small talk is a social skill that some have honed over the years and others struggle with it on a daily basis.  Perfect strangers may feel comfortable enough to talk about things on a more personal level but the bulk of small talk is made up of conversations about things as uninteresting as the weather.  Who knew we all had such an obsession with meteorology?

Depending on where you are when engaging in small talk you can certainly make it more interesting than the state of the atmospheric pressure and relative humidity.  It doesn’t have to become completely personal but you can lift the mood of someone’s day by having an intriguing conversation about something they weren’t planning to discuss with a stranger.

Make the first move and initiate some witty and enlightening repartee that will leave both of you in higher spirits.  Compliments are always welcome and interjecting some kind words into your small talk will go a long way.

Don’t let your cartoon balloon of small talk remain empty.  Fill it with something that will make people think and will allow them to leave your presence with a smile on their face.  Be original and be appealing but most of all keep it simple and honest.  You never know what new connections you could make by starting with an elementary bit of small talk.

100 Word Song – I nearly lost you

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You left so quickly.  I didn’t have time to say goodbye and, in my misery and grief, I nearly lost you.  But your voice permeates my dreams.  The sound of your laughter echoes in my memory.  Those idiosyncracies that used to wear thin are now the moments I cherish the most.

A rider may have fallen, but the ghost of you still navigates those winding curves in my memory.  You will never cease to exist and, although I may have thought you were gone, you will always live on because I choose to remember you.

I hear your distant cry.

~

Written for the 100 Word Song Challenge – one of my new favorite challenges.  If you haven’t tried this yet, I thoroughly recommend it!!

Tomorrow’s Outlines

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This is my first poetry duet with Hastywords and hopefully not my last.  She is truly a talented writer and beautiful person.  I’m sure you’ve already clicked follow on her blog, but if you haven’t you are missing out!

~

I found myself wandering aimless

between several different worlds,

in and out like a homeless ghost

my mind splitting, fracturing

and my perspective splintering

Lost in a cavern of realities

whispers of promise echoing

taunting, just out of reach

unsure of which path to choose

I float in a sea of uncertainty

bleeding colors

The colors of my past are bleeding

hiding lessons learned in a foggy gray

feelings and emotions are muddled

until I feel I may drown, breathless

inside all my lost yesterdays

The canvas of my life stares blankly

looking back at me with ambivalence

urging me to lift my head

beckoning me to not just tread water

but to thrive and embrace what lies beyond

Before despair takes me asunder

I focus only on paths ahead, determined

blurry lines begin to sharpen, harden

into black and white, new outlines

new paths, waiting to be colored in

~

(image credit: Stina Persson)

The Quest for Love

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I wish, oh, I wish

that I could open up your heart.

I want to get to know you

but that’s the hardest part.

I know you from the outside,

your voice I recognize.

But the real you I’m looking for

is always in disguise.

Sometimes looking into your eyes

I can read what’s on your mind.

But then you turn and look away,

afraid of what I’ll find.

I want to know what makes you tick,

what makes you run away.

I’d like to understand you,

there just seems no easy way.

If I could find a way beyond the wall

I know you’re waiting there.

Searching just like I am.

The quest for love is never fair.

Freshly bathed in saline

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I am a churning pool of emotion.  I am one of those people who can put themselves in anyone’s shoes to feel the emotion that pulls on their heart-strings.  Sometimes it is a true blessing and sometimes the catastrophic emotional breakdown is embarrassing.  The control of the outpouring of tears in public has been much improved but behind closed doors all bets are off.

Empathy is a gift that I feel truly fortunate to have.  It is easy to be sympathetic and try to understand what another human being is enduring but to be able to delve into that raw emotion and feel the searing scars of that pain as if it were my own enables me to really reach out to that suffering soul and comprehend what they are going through.

That mutual experience of emotion, for me, is not strictly reserved for direct contact with another human being.  I experience the same overwhelming sensations if I am watching an emotionally charged movie, listening to beautifully composed music or reading a consuming book that drips with powerful sentiment.  Last night my face was awash with tears watching a simple television show.  I’m not sure what came over me but the story was deeply touching and as I felt the first tear caress my cheek I knew there were more to follow.

Perhaps part of my longing to write with such feeling is because I want the person reading to have the same experience I had while writing it.  I want the emotion that held my heart prisoner to be injected into the reader with the same paralyzing sensation that I so easily succumbed.  I can only hope that once my novel is complete, the characters that I birthed will be overflowing with angst, ready to cry on a whim and that I can somehow find a way to make those feelings jump off the page.