Welcome to my World! I love to absorb my surroundings and people watch. I am fascinated by and embrace all walks of individuals. We all vary in our idiosyncratic ways yet are ultimately the same, striving to forge our way through this journey we call life, in the hopes that we might each self-actualize along the way.
Allow me to introduce myself. I am a writer, competitive long-distance runner, mother of four. I love challenging myself in all endeavors I engage in. I write novels. I run 100-120 miles per month and participate in races, half-marathons, full marathons and obstacle courses across the United States. have four children: a 25-year-old son, a 23-year-old daughter, a 21-year-old daughter and a 16-year-old son who is in high school.
I love to explore my surroundings and can often be found venturing out on lengthy treks of up to twenty-nine miles to traverse: mountains, streams, waterfalls, deserts, canyons, beaches and anywhere else that I can connect with nature to feel her pulse and be fed by her wisdom. Even the streets of the metropolis cities hold wonder for me, with their unique flow and energy.
I hope that you enjoy browsing through my web site for a glimpse into my world of never-ending adventures, perils and awakenings.
Cindy
I believe that the best way to learn is to adapt and exact when the urge strikes, for that is when the mind is most receptive to learning and absorbing new things on a deeper level. Some spend an inordinate amount of time thinking things through—to death—so much so, that by the time they act, any hope of enthusiasm or creative license is lost.
I’m not implying that folks shouldn’t consider the possibilities of their actions ahead of time. They should. I’m referring to how, if a person allows himself or herself the freedom to enter a situation with an open mind and a willingness to learn by trial, error and experimentation, instead of being fearful of making mistakes, then the knowledge they’ll gain and retain is likely to be more profound. Also, if a person is comfortable with a little more spontaneity, then they’ll be exposed to a wider spectrum of opportunities from which they might learn.
Sticking to a rigid agenda does have its place in each of our lives. But there are times when we need to be willing to set aside that agenda, or at least bend it, to allow for things we hadn’t expected—opportunities to grow and expand not only our selves, but our perception of the world around us.
After spending the past three days fully engaged in fun activities and surrounded by friends while pulling super long hours, it was nice today to take a break. To dial things back to a more relaxed pace. Not that I didn’t enjoy the past three days. I did. Just was wonderful to be able to resume a more normal routine and pace.
Not sure what others did this holiday weekend. Whatever it was, I hope all were able to keep it safe and have the opportunity to spend some quality time with those who are special to them.
There’s nothing that quite compares with making another happy. Doing little things that make them smile. Picking up on subtle comments they make. Materializing the simplest things that put the biggest smiles on their face, when they realize that you’re really in tuned with them. What they need. What makes them tick.
I consider myself doubly blessed to have an extremely close-knit immediate family. In addition, I have an amazing host of friends whose relationships make my life complete in ways I can’t even begin to describe and in so many avenues as to make my head hurt when I think about it.
Talking with one of those friends the other day, I mentioned how I let my soul drive my heart to lead me in the directions I need to go. This especially holds true with the relationships I’m blessed to have. There’s nothing more rewarding than to hear back from one of those individuals how I round out their lives as well. How the little things I do are appreciated though they may not always be readily acknowledged. Though I don’t do the things I do for recognition, it is gratifying to learn that my efforts put smiles on the faces of those I intend and touch the lives of many more.
There are times when something that would normally creep me out actually intrigues me with its beauty and grace. That was the case while I was running my mountain today.
Four miles in and cresting the summit, something up ahead caught my attention. Slowing, I approached so as not to frighten it. Looking down on the ground beside me, I saw a chocolate brown tarantula. It was just moseying along, minding its own business.
I pulled out my camera and went to take a photo of it. But along the way of capturing a nice shot, I began to take a closer look at the spider. I couldn’t help but notice the graceful way it moved, its legs synchronized. I could see each and every piece of fur on its body, me being only two feet away. Studying it closer, I noticed that the fur on its rear (do they have rears) was all rubbed off. Don’t know what from, but the spider didn’t seem to be any worse for wear.
I took a couple of brief videos of it crawling along, intent on its path. And then I snapped a couple of photos. The tarantula wasn’t the least bit scared of me and let me get to within a foot of it. Wasn’t especially fond of getting any closer, although for the first time in my life, I did have the strange urge to reach out and pet it. I managed to resist that temptation, however, deciding that being that close and not being creeped out was a good starting point. I’d save petting a tarantula for another day.
Today marks the beginning of the long Memorial Day weekend. I’ve always loved this weekend, for besides it’s actual significance, it has always represented the start of my favorite season—summer.
This is the time when I relax. Though still busy, there’s something about longer days filled with abundant sunshine and warmer temperatures that’s invigorating and rejuvenates me to my core—always has. As a kid, I loved this time of year. And when I became a parent, I grew to appreciate it even more, watching my children delight in this season as well.
Whatever folk’s plans are this weekend, I hope they keep it safe, are surrounded by loved ones and have the chance to not only relax but also appreciate the wonderful change in seasons.
Yesterday, I had an interesting conversation with a woman. It began with her telling a friend and me how she’d had an encounter with a serial killer squirrel from the beyond. I must admit, when someone begins a story that way, it catches my full attention.
When questioned what she meant, the woman went on to tell how she’d noticed a loud commotion outside her window that morning. Looking out, she saw a bunch of agitated blue jays. They were dive-bombing a squirrel that was making its way down the trunk of a nearby tree. Something unusual about the squirrel caught the woman’s eye. So she leaned in to take a closer look.
Regretting her decision, she recoiled when she realized that the squirrel had a dead baby blue jay in its mouth.
Ew!
Looking around further, she noticed two other baby blue jays on the ground beneath the squirrel. Both those were still alive. The woman surmised they must have been knocked out of the nest during the attack.
How sad.
Looking up, she realized the nest was way too far up for her to replace the baby birds, and her heart ached for their plight.
So why did I share this story? Well, because ever since the woman mentioned that the squirrel had a baby bird in its mouth, I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around the fact that the squirrel was set to eat something other than nuts or fruit. My entire life, I’ve thought they were herbivores. And now, with this single story, that entire image is shot.
So, I had to settle my curiosity and find out if this—eating meat—was normal behavior for a squirrel. What I discovered is that they are primarily nut and fruit eaters, however, if faced with hunger, they will resort to eating meat and even eggs.
Well, who knew?
Anyhow, I was curious if anyone else had ever witnessed a squirrel faced with hunger, dining on meat or eggs?
Yesterday, I had an interesting conversation with a woman. It began with her telling a friend and me how she’d had an encounter with a serial killer squirrel from the beyond. I must admit, when someone begins a story that way, it catches my full attention.
When questioned what she meant, the woman went on to tell how she’d noticed a loud commotion outside her window that morning. Looking out, she saw a bunch of agitated blue jays. They were dive-bombing a squirrel that was making its way down the trunk of a nearby tree. Something unusual about the squirrel caught the woman’s eye. So she leaned in to take a closer look.
Regretting her decision, she recoiled when she realized that the squirrel had a dead baby blue jay in its mouth.
Ew!
Looking around further, she noticed two other baby blue jays on the ground beneath the squirrel. Both those were still alive. The woman surmised they must have been knocked out of the nest during the attack.
How sad.
Looking up, she realized the nest was way too far up for her to replace the baby birds, and her heart ached for their plight.
So why did I share this story? Well, because ever since the woman mentioned that the squirrel had a baby bird in its mouth, I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around the fact that the squirrel was set to eat something other than nuts or fruit. My entire life, I’ve thought they were herbivores. And now, with this single story, that entire image is shot.
So, I had to settle my curiosity and find out if this—eating meat—was normal behavior for a squirrel. What I discovered is that they are primarily nut and fruit eaters, however, if faced with hunger, they will resort to eating meat and even eggs.
Well, who knew?
Anyhow, I was curious if anyone else had ever witnessed a squirrel faced with hunger, dining on meat or eggs?
I wish more people adopted this mentality. It’s one I openly embrace—have my whole life. Our time here is fleeting. I believe that we’re meant to make the most of it. Learn all that we can. Absorb as many experiences as present themselves to us, not shy away from them. For if we shy away, how can we ever expect to grow. If we don’t allow our boundaries to be pushed just beyond our comfort levels, how will we know if we will take a liking to something new?
If a blind, deaf, mute woman, locked within the confines of her own mind, could see the beauty of the world around her and openly embrace new encounters that pushed her comfort levels, then who are we to resist?
There are times when utter exhaustion hits us when we least expect it. For me, that happened this evening. Seeing as I’m usually associated with the Energizer Bunny, it did surprise me.
I’d been up and running from early this morning. One task ran into another as items got checked off my list and the work got done. Along the way, each of my children and I received a text from my husband that he would likely be delayed in Europe longer than originally thought. Our oldest daughter, who’s visiting, took the news hard, as she’d hoped to be able to spend some time with her dad while here. And our youngest son was also upset.
As I have the entirety of their lives, I tried to buffer our kids from the sad news by making myself more available so they wouldn’t feel the sting of their dad being gone. I took time off work to go to lunch with my daughters and granddaughter. And later, when it came time for me to head to my writing critique group meeting, I made the executive decision to blow that off to spend the entire evening with our kids.
At the time of my decision, our daughters were out running errands. I texted our oldest with my surprise news. A few minutes later, she bounded in the house, beaming from ear-to-ear so happy with my decision. And when I shared with our youngest son, he literally did a double take then broke into a broad grin.
We planned to head out to dinner and loaded into the car. But our granddaughter soon doused those plans, too sleepy and cranky from not having taken her naps during the day. So, we adjusted and spent a cozy night in, just the five of us. We ate a yummy dinner in shifts to allow for Kai to be fed and kept entertained. And then we watched TV—all of us.
There wasn’t a lot of talking during the later. Wasn’t needed. Every now and then, I’d look away from whatever show was on and spy each of our kids, wearing content looks on their faces. Nothing warms a mom’s heart more than to see that her kids are happy. So, seeing that, my body let down. The flu I’d battled the previous week, my extra long weekend and the news of my husband’s delayed homecoming all slipped away. The exhaustion I’d been holding at bay set in as my eyes slid shut, me drifting off to a peaceful sleep, my children all around me, letting me catch up on the sleep I’d been lacking.
By yesterday morning, I was beginning to have serious granddaughter withdrawals, having been gone the past two days. I was hoping to at least say a quick hello to Kai prior to my having to head out in the morning, but alas, she was still asleep when I had to go.
All day, she was on my mind. How I wanted to see her and make her break into that amazing smile she does. Hours rolled by, and my day stretched out far longer than I had anticipated it would. Stopping to grab a quick bite to eat with two others for dinner, I spotted a couple with two young children.
Watching them, my thoughts drifted to Kai. When I had to get up and walk past the happy family, I paused to comment on how lovely they all were and how much I’d appreciated being able to watch their children’s’ sweet play during their meal.
My day wound down. But when I got home, the house was quite, all asleep, including our granddaughter. This morning, as soon as I heard Kai up, I bounded out of my office and hippity hopped my way down the hall towards her. The second Kai caught sight of me, her face broke into that radiant smile I adore. I smiled right along with her.
My daughters shared how Kai must have been missing me as well, since last night she’d crawled into my darkened office in search of me. That made my heart soar and caused me to make a decision. Today I took off several hours from work to just hang out with our granddaughter. I crawled on the floor with her, allowed her to use me as a human jungle gym, played with her and accompanied her mother and aunt on some errands just so I could spend more time with her.
It was a day well spent! Every time Kai turned around today, there I was, smiling back at her. And her seeing me would make her face erupt into a broad grin. By the time she went to bed this evening, I felt satisfied with the amount of time we’d spent together, and I think Kai was pretty content with our day as well.
Tonight finished off an incredibly busy weekend where I had the opportunity to work with some amazing individuals. Some of those I knew and had worked with previously, others were new friends I made. Most of us had the chance to interact with one another from Friday all the way through the end of Sunday night.
I must say, though each of us was struggling with our own challenges and all were running on very little sleep, it was a joy to see how well we worked together. How all of us brought a smile and positive attitude to the table. Those made for an overall great experience.
Though, there were technical challenges and major organizational failings we had to overcome, each person was so bent on making the most of the situation that we pulled together like a finely oiled machine, not letting anything get us down. When it’s all said and done, that—how well we worked together—is my lasting impression, one that puts the biggest smile on my face. I keep grinning like an over-enthused Cheshire cat when I think of how warm and welcoming everyone was to one another. How I wish things could always end on such a positive note.
Without a doubt, this was one of the busiest, most taxing and exhausting weekends I can recall having. But it was also one of the best times I’ve had in a very long time. It’s left me with the warmest glow inside as I recall the happy expressions on everyone’s faces regardless of how tired they were and how all were quick to lend a helping hand or share with one another whatever they had. Being surrounded by such a host of compassionate positive individuals for three solid days was an absolute joy!
Getting up this morning when my alarm went off was no easy feat after a long day and night. But I pulled myself out of bed and readied myself for another long day of work. Throughout my day, I kept checking the time. When it got to be early afternoon, I shot text messages to each of my girls, wondering when they’d be home from their separate activities, so I could arrange to be done with work and drive back from LA to meet them for our Gilmore Girls night out.
What a night! Though I was exhausted, having just ten minutes from the time when I walked in the door until when I had to be readied to head out again, I was excited about spending a night alone with my girls. It’s been a super long time since the three of us have done that. We needed the bonding time.
From the time we poured ourselves in the car, the nonstop talking began, several conversations at once, each overlapping, in our true Gilmore Girl style. Since none of us had seen one another the entire day, and each had different adventures to tell about, we had a lot to share.
We headed to quick dinner, where we continued to talk, so we’d be sure to make it to our movie, Bridesmaids on time. OMG, what a hilarious movie! From the opening scene, we three were cracking up along with the full house audience around us. Felt good to laugh that much. To share that kind of fun with my girls.
By the time we left the theater, each of our throats hurt from laughing so hard for the whole movie. My girls each said Bridesmaids is their new favorite move, and I had to agree it’s a keeper. The closer we got to home, the less animated our conversation became, each of us settling into how tired we were, yet basking in the afterglow of having spent a great evening together—just us girls.
Today was an awesome day! Our oldest daughter arrived home from out of state to spend the next week with us. It’s cool when my girls and I get together. There used to be a show on called the Gilmore Girls. In it, the mother and daughter had an unusually close relationship, definite parent-child but also one of dear friends who mutually respected and weren’t afraid to be goofy with one another. Without fail, my girls and I would gather to watch that show every week, it pretty much summing up our relationship with one another.
Though our entire family has fun when we’re together, just us girls have set aside this Saturday night as a Gilmore girl’s night out. We’ll munch, giggle, share funny stories, remember goofy times from our past and then head to a movie together, just us three. Been a long time since we shared one of these nights—long overdue. It’ll be good to reconnect and be zany with one another for an entire night, not caring what others think. Our only concern will be to strengthen our already tight bonds with one another and have some great tales to share as a result.
Picture this, I’m sick with the flu, have a fever, stumble out of bed, grab a travel mug of coffee and head to the car to take our youngest son to school. Reaching to place my mug in the cup holder, the lid comes off, the mug tips and a third of its contents pour across my car. Laughing, cause there’s really nothing else to do, I ask my son for some napkins from the glove box and mop up the mess. Then the real fun begins.
I begin to back out of the garage. Everything is fine until…I turn the wheel. It’s then that I hear the distinct roll thump roll thwamp that accompanies a flat tire. I put the car in park, get out and walk around the vehicle. Much to my surprise, all four tires are fine. I circle the car again, wondering if my fever has made me miss the detail of a flat tire. I haven’t and get back in my car.
Now out of the garage, it’s a straight shot backing out of the long driveway. I do so, and the car responds without a problem. But as soon as I turn the wheel to pull onto the street, I again hear the distinct roll thump roll thwamp sound. Looking at my son to see if this is really happening or I’m imagining it, he raises an eyebrow and says, “That’s not right.”
Well, that settles it. I steer my injured vehicle back into my driveway and have our son get the keys to his sister’s car, hoping he won’t be late to school with the delays. We head out. I make it to his school, and he gets to class on time, thankfully.
Then I come home and wait for our daughter to awake. She’d had a rough night with our granddaughter, so they had gone back to sleep. They get up about an hour later, me having pecked away at work in the meantime. I hand my daughter my keys and have her move my car on the driveway, turning the wheel, etc, to duplicate the trouble, while I stand outside the car and watch. Sure enough, it takes several tries, but we get the problem to repeat. The passenger back rear tire hesitates then rapid spins…hesitates…then rapid spins again.
Back in the house, I call our mechanic then AAA and a tow truck is on the way. Waiting for it to arrive, I look out the front window and say, “What the heck?!”
Our daughter follows my line of vision, but I’ve already bolted out of my chair and am halfway to the garage. I open the garage door and spy our double gates, one of which is slightly ajar. I call up the driveway, for our dog that I’d seen out the window. But this is easier said than done, for I have no voice, and it’s a long driveway. I summon all the voice I can muster and call out her name again, hoping she won’t go into the street and get hit by a car. Thankfully, she hears me, turns and trots back. I secure her in the yard and wait for the tow truck driver to arrive.
The time isn’t even 11:30 AM and any visions of resting to get better have vaporized. Yup, that’s the way my day began, and the way it’s pretty much rolled throughout. And now, my car fixed and back with me, I’m about to go to a friend in need who shouldn’t be alone. She’s received some devastating news, and I want to be there to help her through it. Just another day in my crazy life. J
As a writer, I have to temper my correspondences with folks. For me to crank out a 400-word document takes only minutes, proofed and ready to send. But when some receive a “quick hello” like that from me, they get a little intimidated, believing they have to try to match the length of my message. They don’t, of course, but that’s how some feel.
So, though my inclination is to bang out a good-sized response or message to some, I have learned to resist the urge, not wanting to make them feel uncomfortable. There’s an added bonus to my clipping messages to folks. By doing so, I’m able to hone one of my writing skills—saying as much a possible in as few of words as possible.
As writers, every written passage we create utilizes skills we’ve learned or helps to master those we’re working on. And with today’s modern world, there’s a wealth of opportunities for us to write more than ever. Think of how often you text, or shoot off a quick email or instant message someone. Each time, you’re incorporating writing skills. For me, I adore these opportunities to tighten up my writing and work on evoking reactions I’m hoping for that will enhance my later writing endeavors.
I’m a firm believer in practice makes perfect. As such, I’m gonna keep practicing and practicing this writing thing in any and all forms to help better round out my writing skills.
There are individuals who just have to “fix” things. I’m not talking about them repairing gadgets but rather people they know who are having a hard time. Some of these “fixers” can be a bit pushy with their desires. It’s admirable that they want to help make things better. But I believe it’s important for fixers to recognize that there is a time and place for them to intercede. And, when it’s not appropriate, or they’ve been asked to back off, they need to respect those limits, not continue to try to fix things, for by carrying on, they only complicate matters.
So here’s something I wonder. If that fixer is the one who cased the unrest in the first place, then do they have a right to fix the problem they created? Or would their trying only complicate the situation? Might it be better for them to take a step back and allow things to settle? Let the others involved have the time and space necessary for things to be processed?
I’m not one of these fixers, but I’ve experienced them. Each time our paths cross, I find myself at a loss of how to get them to take a step back, without hurting their feelings. In the meantime, I need to attempt to work out the whatever on my own—first—knowing that if I can’t, I can seek the fixer’s help. Complicating matters is when the fixer is the one who has caused the problem. Then I’m really at a loss. They seem to double their efforts to help. I want nothing more than to distance myself, needing time and space. Regardless of how many times I try to nicely communicate such, the fixer just keeps trying to mend things, only muddying the water. And, on the rare occasions where I feel the best approach is to not respond to the outreaching of the fixer in an attempt to gain the time and space I need, the fixer becomes hyper assertive in their efforts to make contact with me.
So how does one handle a fixer? Is there a proven method to smooth down their ruffled feathers while maintaining what one needs to process if not mend things on their own?
My friends and I spend an inordinate amount of time discussing relationships. What makes them good. Where the pitfalls lie. How many people are quick to treat them like used paper towels, tossing them aside when done using them or things get tough.
Relationships are tough. They require constant attention, nurturing and refining. If one looks beneath the surface of any long-term relationship, they’ll find a myriad of overcome challenges. Many of those are significant enough that had the person been asked prior to entering the relationship if they thought they might overcome said challenges, their answer would probably have been, no.
But that’s before the person was in that relationship. Prior to when lasting bonds and memories had helped create the foundation of the relationship, forging it strong enough to undergo significant challenges.
So the couple carries on. Life rolls along. Things happen, some good, some not so favorable. But the couple gets through them—together. Then come the “speed bumps” as I like to call them. Those are the items that test the true grit of any relationship. Some speed bumps are somewhat derailing while others are downright tragic, making those involved seriously question what they’re made of, if the relationship can endure such a crisis and if those involved are willing to try.
It’s when a couple is faced with these crossroads that they need to take a step back in order to more objectively view the relationship. They must factor in its history. Do the pros outweigh the cons? Does the current crisis stand in stark contrast to the rest of the relationship, indicating an anomaly? Or does that current tragedy indicate an irreparable crack in the foundation of the relationship?
Some individuals are able to maintain enough objectivity to review these things and make an informed decision of how to proceed. Others, so emotionally engulfed in the moment, end up reacting instead of behaving in a calm, cool and collected manner that would best lend itself to the relationship.
Life’s complex. Relationships are even more so. Though they require work, I believe most are worth it. True, there are times when we all lose our ability to be objective, our relationships suffering as a result. But that doesn’t mean hope is lost. Or that we should cast them aside like some used towel. To me, that’s disrespecting all the relationship stands for—good, bad and indifferent.
I love it when friends band around one another to help one in need. Right now, that’s what a group of us are doing. One of our friends is having a super tough time. Has been for a while now, but this weekend the stress level has peaked with events. So, the rest of us are stepping up, doing what friends do, wrapping that one friend in our protective embrace and letting them know that if needed, we’ll be their strength.
It’s heartening to see the comfort this brings our friend. Not that there isn’t still stress. Not that there haven’t been tears shed—lots of them. Not that our shoulders haven’t been heavily laid upon, us grateful for the opportunity to provide comfort. There have been non-stop texts, phone calls, emails, coordinating of schedules, hugs and time spent together to shore up this individual. None of us would think of doing anything different, for frankly, to us, this—supporting one another—is what being a friend is all about.
With world and personal events that have been happening of late, I find myself taking a closer look at me, my beliefs, philosophies, ambitions etc. I do this on a continuous basis anyhow, but now, I’m doing so on an even deeper level. Guess you could say I’m doing more soul searching. Measuring what I know be true against those things I believe in and innately accept to my core.
I feel that when things go upside-down and inside out, that’s an opportunity rather than a defeat. I view those occasions as times for me to see things a different way, or perhaps to take a closer look at how I already view them. Not one to accept loss without a fight, I enjoy finding ways to not only achieve, but to also excel.
So when the world hands me things that challenge my sensibilities or make me take a closer look at why I might feel one way while others may have a totally different opinion, I tend to turn inward. Do a ton of soul searching. Ask myself a bunch of questions meant to get my noggin working on overtime in case it’s missed anything.
Life happens. It’s as simple as that. One minute we’re humming along like a finely tuned machine, not missing a beat, the next…we could be faced with a speed bump that jars us. I don’t waste time wondering why the speed bump is there or why I came in contact with it. Instead, I’m the type that shrugs her shoulders, thinks of ways to better avoid it in the future and tries to learn all that I can from having come in contact with that speed bump. Having done that, I then see how the speed bump might affect my beliefs, philosophies, ambitions, etc in order that I might grow from the experience.
So often, folks make the mistake of thinking that it’s their position—standing in life—that will make them happy. This isn’t the case. If in doubt, ask many a lottery winner their opinion on this subject. A good number will share they were much happier prior to winning it big.
So, if it’s not one’s position that makes them feel enriched, then what does? I think it’s a person’s disposition that guides them to happiness or not. The dictionary’s description of disposition is: a person’s inherent qualities of mind and character. And here, I believe the description fits.
Think of it this way. A person can have all the money, recognition and influence in the world, but if they have a negative attitude or lack a strong character, none of that will matter. Instead, they’ll be in constant search of what they can’t buy. Something that comes from within and drives us all, yet not many seriously listen to. Those who do are rewarded tenfold for their due diligence.
A strong mind, made healthy by constant use and filled with positive thoughts goes a long ways towards making us happy. To gain this costs us nothing more than for us to open our eyes, take an honest look at ourselves and be willing to replace negativity with positive energy. Likewise, a strong character can’t be bought. It comes from within, stemming from those qualities a person knows they should act upon, not the ones society tells us will further along our ultimate position.
I try to live my life remembering these guidelines. That if I maintain a healthy positive mindset and a strong character, those are the things that will ultimately make me happy.
There’s a saying: men do not fail…they give up trying. I love this, for the wisdom and ultimate truth behind it.
Often, people become their own worst enemies. They manage to exact self-fulfilled failure, not because they aren’t capable of achieving their goals, but because they’re unwilling to follow through with them. Identifying what needs to be changed is perhaps one of the biggest challenges to self-betterment. After that, comes the act of actively moving forward to achieve one’s goal. Of putting in the necessary effort required. Of facing what might be one’s deepest darkest fears in order to move beyond them.
It’s about this point that many give up trying. They convince themselves that things aren’t so bad as they stand. They can live with the status quo. It’s really not worth the effort to change or improve upon themselves.
This makes me sad, for I don’t believe that individuals should be held back by their fears or lack of incentive to progress. I see it all the time, folks who simply…stop trying. Some do so because of things from their past being triggered with those triggers being too uncomfortable for them to face. Others lack the tenacity to power through difficult challenges to reach betterment on the other side. Still more fail to have the foresight to identify what it is that they might do to improve.
Anyone who’s read my blogs is well aware that I’m not a complacent person. I actively seek out new ways to improve upon myself. My situation. My outlook. My philosophies. Spent a good portion of my life unable to act upon these things. And when I was finally free to pursue my goals, I never looked back at those things that had kept me fettered in my past, instead, focusing on making the most of my present and future.
I may not always achieve my goals, often falling short. But that is not time wasted, nor do I consider those attempts to be failures. In my mind, for them to be failures, would mean that I had given up, allowing a defeatist attitude to overtake me. Again, not something I’m willing to settle for. It’s not that I don’t stumble and fall, often just in sight of my goals, other times so far removed from them that they’re barely identifiable. I do. It’s just that I’m a natural born Phoenix. Knock me down, and I’ll continue to rise up. Fight. Overcome. Persevere. Actualize my dreams, goals and desires. For me, failure is not an option, for I simply won’t allow myself to give up trying.
Mine was a day spent reflecting. I thought of my many blessings. Of the challenges I’ve overcome. Of how current events are complicating things, but of how we’ll see those through. Of how we’ll be stronger in the long run for having persevered.
Today was a calm day, spent almost entirely at home with my daughter, granddaughter and youngest son. We all seemed to be in sedate moods. Not sad or upset…just…relaxed. Felt good to spend the day that way.
I hope that however each of you opted to spend your day, you found it to be fulfilling, relaxing and fun
I didn’t write a blog yesterday. Frankly, things just got too crazy for me to wrap my mind around doing so. The night before, my cell phone decided to completely and forever die. Not a good thing for one who is so dependent on it. As soon as I realized that it was really dead, a sort of panic set in. Not for the obvious reasons, but because I had this unexplainable feeling that my kids were going to need to get hold of me. And right now, my husband is out of the country.
Long ago, I learned to pay close attention to when I get these feelings, for they always foretell of actual things to come. So I set off on what should have been a straightforward journey to get a replacement cell phone, but proved to be anything but. Through a process that took five and a half hours and involved numerous people, I did finally get a replacement phone and was able to get it loaded up with all my information.
A short twenty minutes after I pulled off that feat, my new phone rang with a call from my daughter, Kai’s mommy, who was crying, near hysterical and making little sense. Like me, this daughter isn’t one to cry nor is she likely to become hysterical, so the instant I heard her tone, I knew something had gone terribly wrong.
She told me that she needed me to come to where she was. That there had been a problem. That she, Kai and our daughter’s car had been attacked. Hearing her words, time seemed to stand still. I could hear chaos in the background, someone telling her to get off the phone. I heard distress in her voice that she didn’t want to oblige but needed to.
In a couple of sentences, she told me that she’d called the police. They were there with her and telling her to get off the phone. She pleaded for me to get to her. Her mind understandably scrambled, she only gave me cross streets of where she was. I figured I’d get heading in that direction and call her once nearer, hoping she’d be thinking more clearly by then.
So that’s what I did. Glancing at the clock, I realized that I was needed to pick up our youngest son from school and that I’d now be late. But that mattered not, for I knew I could text him and ask him to wait for me. Now, the priority was to get to our daughter and granddaughter. Taking a deep breath, I got in the car and headed to where my daughter had told me she was. Must admit, it took everything I had to not speed or drive like a mad woman to get there, for my nerves were frazzled not knowing what I might find once there. How bad it would be.
Nearing where I needed to be, I called my daughter. This time, she was a little more coherent and gave me a more specific locale. Within minutes I arrived and, seeing my daughter off a ways, clutching our granddaughter, while talking to an officer, I went straight to them and wrapped them in the tightest hug that conveyed all my heart was feeling. My daughter let herself melt against me, Kai caught between us.
The officer gave us our space for a minute or two then took my daughter off to the side to finish the report while I held and comforted Kai. Meanwhile, the one who had attacked them was standing a short distance away. Seeing him, the smirk on his face, how he was laughing and joking with the officer guarding him, like he hadn’t a care in the world, like this was all a joke, made me struggle to control myself. I focused on comforting Kai.
The report was finished, the one responsible arrested and put in one of the three squad cars that had reported to the scene, and we were free to…to…go, I suppose. Pick up where we’d left off. Well, not quite. After this, things will never be the same. There will be court dates, lawyers, officers, etc, not to mention the lasting impressions of the attack for my daughter and granddaughter.
By the time we got in our cars to head home, I was beyond numb. Didn’t know what to feel or how to go about letting it out. There was anger, fear, sadness, an overwhelming need to protect, and so on. So many emotions swirling about as the world stood still yet continued on.
Physically, my daughter and granddaughter are fine, of far more concern are the lasting impressions the emotional aspect of this will cause. In the meantime, we’ll do what we need to follow through with holding the individual accountable and with picking up the broken pieces and moving on.
Some of you may wonder why, with all the recent world event surrounding us, I don’t blog about any of what gets cued up on the news. It’s not that I’m unaware of the devastating earthquakes that took place in Japan, their aftermath and the potential tsunami, or that I’m clueless about the recent tornadoes that blazed a path of destruction in the southeast or of the whole Bin Laden event.
So why don’t I blog about those? The answer is really quite simple. It’s my opinion that we are so inundated with every form of media saturated with those topics that folks might want…no…that they might need a break from all of that.
When I first began this blog, I was conscientious to build a site that would be positive based. In addition, I hoped to create a cyber locale where folks could come for a cleansing breath of air. Someplace where they might, if only for a minute or two, escape the harsh realities of the world while reading my blogs that didn’t focus on world events.
So, in a nutshell, I opt to blog about silly things that happen to me, thoughts that swirl around in my head and the profound manner in which I choose to view the world. Why? Because like the rest of you, even I need an occasional break from the devastation the media often elects to focus on.
There are times when the organizational skills of others make absolutely no sense to me.
After my writing critique class this evening, I stopped at our local grocery store to pick up a new battery for my garage door opener, the one that was in it, having died earlier in the day. Arriving at the store with my old battery, I headed for the battery section.
Once there, I noticed that about a third of the batteries were no longer on display, the one I needed amongst them. My battery was an innocent enough looking fella, kind of like a AAA battery that had been chopped in half, making it a shorter version of the traditional AAA.
I searched the section again, thinking I might have missed it. But no, mine was amongst those no longer on display. A store official came over to ask if I needed help finding my item. I showed him my battery, and he told me they were hanging on the display along the side. But when he went to grab one for me, his hand landed on a section of empty space—no batteries there to be found.
It was then that he pointed to the whole section of hearing aid batteries and told me that he recalled that those had just been moved up from the pharmacy section while the one I needed had been relocated behind the locked barrier in the pharmacy. Looking at my innocent battery, I inquired why, not seeing the danger it presented, or why it now needed to be under lock and key.
The store official shook his head and told me he had no idea why the garage door opener batteries now had to be locked away, only that he recalled that they had been. So, leaving the store without my battery, seeing as the pharmacist had just left, locking the pharmacy behind him, I’m still without a working garage door opener and am at a loss to understand the threat my cute little battery might pose.
Just out of morbid curiosity, tomorrow I’ll head to another store to see if they, too, have my “dangerous” battery under lockdown.
At 32,000 feet, it’s a little disconcerting when you watch a flight attendant lose it.
Today, I flew home from the east coast. A direct fight, I was eager to begin my journey home.
Everything went well enough when I boarded my flight: bags got checked without incident, and I made it through security without needing to go through the new scanning machine. My flight was on time, though it did leave almost half an hour late due to the tow truck that was to back us away from out gate breaking down.
Upon getting seated on my flight, one of the flight attendants was commenting to the passengers seated in the row ahead of me that he didn’t need to do anything on this flight, as there was an entire other flight crew who was putting in their second training run before they graduate on Wednesday. I found that to be interesting, as I’d never flown with a second flight crew before and was curious to see how that might play out.
An hour and a half into our flight, the male flight attendant who had told us he had nothing to do on the flight became agitated—quite so. He pulled his luggage from the overhead bin, plopped it down on the floor in front of the feet of the men sitting in the bulkhead seats ahead of me and proceeded to rummage through the entire contents of said suitcase with an intensity that became somewhat unnerving.
Though not pleased, he zipped up the luggage and replaced it in the overhead bin. Then he proceeded to search the area—all of it—surrounding the bulkhead seats. He checked seatback pockets, overhead bins and pull out safety bins used only by the flight crew. All this he did with meticulous care and with a determination that left nothing to the imagination that something was wrong. By this time, he had gained the attention of eleven nearby passengers, myself included.
Still unhappy, the attendant got out his suitcase and again searched it, going through every last item contained within, going so far as to shake out each and every pair of underwear—all Polo by the way. The contents of his luggage littering the floor of the plane, he continued his search in earnest, each of us passengers becoming more and more curious what the heck could have him so worked up.
By now, forty-five minutes had passed with this “show” going on. One of the men in front of me commented on the length of time, which I’d also noted, and said, “Well, this sure beats an in-flight movie,” to which we all laughed.
It wasn’t that we were laughing at the stressed out flight attendant, but rather we’d grown so worked up by this time that laughter was the only way we knew to relieve our mounting anxiety.
The attendant put his suitcase back in the overhead bin and then shocked all of us when he got down on his hands and knees to begin and in depth search under all the chairs in the area. By now he’d told us, after several had asked, that he was looking for a brown box containing a facial serum he’d just bought in a duty-free shop but had seemed to lose. The attendant was tearing the plane apart, up to an including insisting that several passengers get up so he could search their seats, wondering if his missing item had fallen out of his luggage. The attendant went so far as to rip away those passengers’ seat cushions as they stood, mouths agape, in the aisle, watching.
By the time the attendant finished his quest, and several other flight crew members had tried to calm him down, all our nerves were on edge and an hour, yes, an entire hour had passed. Though the attendant hadn’t found his missing serum, we were thrilled that he finally gave up his search and went to join the rest of the crew back in the galley.
A short time later, I happened back there, having to use the restroom. As I stood to wait my turn, I couldn’t help but overhear the man tell his fellow flight attendants that it wasn’t facial serum he’d been searching for but rather, a ring he’d bought for his intended. Hearing the sadness in his voice, my heart went out to him.
While I was on board, the attendant never did find what he was looking for, though he did make a joke, as we taxied to our gate, that perhaps he should have TSA agents come aboard and search each passenger before allowing them to leave the plane. Though his words were said in jest—somewhat—the message got through that he believed someone had found and taken the ring.
We all just looked at him, not really sure what to say to his “joke.” As I passed him to disembark, I paused to tell him that I hoped he’d find what he was looking for. He looked back at me, appreciative of my sentiments, but his face hung with a heaviness it hadn’t shown at the beginning of the flight.
I’m not sure if he ever did find the missing ring. I hope so. I hope no one took it. I do understand how troubling his losing it must have been and his resistance to say what he’d really lost. A sticky situation all around….
Gathering with treasured friends...getting to spend extended quality time with them…it’s amazing, yet such a double-edge sword. Why? For when it comes time to part ways, I become a mess.
For the past six glorious days, I’ve had the privilege to gather with a good number of valued friends—those I consider family. As always, our time together took far too long to get here and ending too swiftly.
Most of us dreaded this morning, knowing that it would be the last time we would set eyes on one another for quite some time. A group of us decided to skip lunch to stroll the Boardwalk—one last-ditch effort to spend as much time together as humanly possible before all but I had to head home.
Our stroll along the Boardwalk did us good. We took memento photos. Some goofy. Some with tears in our eyes. Others were serious. By the time the cruel clock ticked out the final minutes before the first couple had to leave, we were feeling pretty good. But then reality sunk in. We avoided one another’s eyes, hoping that might make us stronger. It didn’t. Tears flowed freely as we hugged good-bye.
This process repeated itself for the next nine hours—each hour that passed another amongst us having to head to the airport via taxi or shuttle while others headed to a nearby bus terminal. Though I’m not one that’s prone to headaches, halfway through this process, my head was throbbing with a major one, my heart aching just as much.
Tonight as I type this, I do so with mixed emotions. I’m appreciative that my friends and I were able to gather and spend such quality time together for several days. I adore the lessons we learned from one another as we listened in depth to stories shared. I treasure the lasting memories we created while together. How our already strong bonds grew in strength. On the flip side, my heart aches for them being gone and knowing that I will head home tomorrow—each of us to resume our regular schedules. Ultimately, however, I am smiling, for I know that we’ll be granted the privilege to once again gather, none of us taking for granted what an amazing gift that is!
