Thursday, Dec. 13, 2012

Without delay, I’ll continue on with my latest story, Learning Lea.

Learning Lea

She stared up at the skylight off to her side. Tried to focus on the moonlight that streamed through its bubbled dome. They cast bands of light, which illuminated half the room. Focusing was good.  Lea felt her hands and feet relax, their nails retracting, no longer on edge, ready to shred and tear.  

It was as if she stepped out of her body and stood alongside the bed. What Lea saw didn’t surprise her, though she wished it had. Too many times she’d been here. Experienced her…change.

Lea watched her alabaster skin morph. One second it was as pure and unmarked as a china doll’s. The next, the faintest outline of texture appeared. Then came the blemishes—spots. Just a few at first. But as Lea continued to glimpse herself, the spots increased, covering her exposed flesh with a blanket of evenly spaced dark chocolate splotches, each outlined in a smudge of black, that contrasted her now golden fur.

Carl stirred behind Lea. She froze. Slowed her breathing to barely at all, focusing all her energy on maintaining the illusion that everything was all right. No need to involve Carl this time in her struggle.

Carl’s sleep-filled voice cooed, “You okay, baby?”

“Mmmhmm,” Lea replied. Her response was rushed. She answered quickly in the hopes that Carl would buy her deceit. He could be unnervingly astute—Carl. Could detect the slightest change in Lea’s tone, body language or facial expressions. Well, he could when he wasn’t half asleep. Lea hoped Carl’s groggy mind wouldn’t be as perceptive as usual and would allow him to slip back into a deep slumber. It did. Satisfied that she’d fooled Carl into believing she was fine, Lea let out the breath she’d been holding with measured care. 

Wednesday, Dec. 12, 2012

Today I’ll begin posting my newest story, Learning Lea. I hope you enjoy reading what I’ve written as much as I’ve enjoyed creating it.  Without further delay….

Learning Lea

Lea rolled onto her side, the mattress creaking in the process. Her legs curled close to her body, her feet intertwined. A chill caught Lea, causing her muscles to flex. She was careful to prevent her razor sharp nails from slicing through the sheets and fought the urge to shiver, lest she wake Carl who spooned her from behind. She didn’t want to alert him to her distress…not again…. So she lay there, as her mind raced—an incessant cesspool of thoughts and images that consumed her, leaving her no escape. In the end, that’s all Lea wanted—to escape. 

For as long as she could recall, Lea sought peace…quiet…calm—a respite from the indelible mark society and its mystery left on her. Each day, she went out in the world, became a part of it, or so it appeared to those interested enough to take a second look. That was all Lea needed—to fool onlookers long enough to leave an impression that she was one of them.

Lea scooted apart from Carl. But, as she suspected, the effort was futile, for even in his slumber, Carl sought her out. His need to touch her usually comforted Lea. But not tonight. It was at times like these that Lea needed space. 

Knowing that if she remained in bed, she had no choice, Lea let Carl touch her, attempting to numb her body to the feel of him against her. She succeeded—mostly. Relaxing a bit, the edges of her reality began to shift in and out.  Similar to the focus being adjusted on a camera lens, what Lea saw, as she lay there in the dark, became fine-tuned and then…not.

Tuesday, Dec. 11, 2012

For the past couple of days, I haven’t entered a blog. Sort of went off grid. Why?  Because I was thinking. Pondering the direction my blog should go. Not that I haven’t been pleased with what I’ve contributed. Just felt it was time to do…more. So, I thought on it, and here’s what I’ve come up with.

In my time off, I let my creative juices flow. I believe you’ll enjoy what they came up with. Least, I’m excited about it. For the next little while, and I’m honestly not sure how long that will span, I’m going to make blog entries to a new story I’m working on. Those will likely be interspersed between my normal blog entries. Some days may be a new section of my story while others will maintain my usual blog format. Wait…do I have a normal blog format?

LOL.

Anyhow, it’s an interesting concept, this story I’m creating. Or rather, guess I should say that I’m writing, for as with all of my written stories, they create themselves, me being nothing more than the vessel by which the words are jotted down.

Since my stories write themselves, I haven’t a clue where this one will go—not really. Yes, as the author, I have suspicions of what might happen. But just as my readers are treated to twists and turns in my stories, so too am I. To be honest, I like it that way. I couldn’t imagine knowing how it will all play out. What characters will appear. How they will interact with one another and shape the story into whatever it needs to become.

Just as you readers look forward to scanning my next written word, I look forward to seeing them unravel their secrets as I put them to paper.

Tune in tomorrow to begin reading my newest tale….

I left off yesterday’s blog with my friends and I gathered at a friend’s house, enjoying the incredible talents of one of those friends who just so happens to be one of the country’s top rehabilitative, physical, massage therapists.  Waiting patiently, I enjoyed watching each of my friends have their pains eased away by our therapist friend.  When it came my turn, I was surprised at just how good our girlfriend is.

I was no exception to my girlfriend’s talents.  Within seconds of laying her hands on me, she noted that I carry my stress in my neck and shoulders.  Course, that wasn’t news to me.  But then my girlfriend illuminated why I carry stress there.  She told me that I do so because I clench my jaw in my sleep, which creates knots in my facial muscles right where the top of my jaw meets with the muscles. 

Fascinating!

Having discovered the root of my discomfort, my girlfriend set about “fixing” the problem, least temporarily, by massaging the knot away from my jaw/muscle joint.  Man…was that painful!  But I must admit that as soon as the massage was over, I felt quite a release from the stress pain I’d arrived with earlier.

My massage over, I thanked my girlfriend and asked if she finally felt like she’d accomplished something tonight.  As she so often does, she got a wicked little grin and said, “Not quite yet.  My boyfriend doesn’t know it yet, but I’m gonna work on his aches and pains for about an hour and a half when we get home.”

Oh, geez!  Hope he’s up for that….

Like I said, this girlfriend’s got talent, stamina and strength the likes of which I’ve never seen before.  

Thursday, Dec. 6, 2012

Thursday, December 6, 2012

A number of friends and I got together this evening.  In between sipping wine, nibbling on cheese, crackers and other delicious treats, we caught up with one another.  A short while later, there was a knock on the door.  In came another friend along with her boyfriend.  Now, to look at this girlfriend, one would never imagine what she does for a living or just how strong she is. 

Don’t let her darling dimples and curvy1950’s housewife image fool you.  This gal’s got immeasurable strength that can go the mile…and beyond.  In addition, based on her youth, one might not imagine just how accomplished she is.  Again, don’t let looks deceive. 

Our girlfriend joined in on our conversation, her boyfriend right along with her.  Sitting at an open spot on the sofa, she asked, “Who wants to be my first ‘victim’?”

You wouldn’t believe the smiles that brought and how many hands shot up.  Chuckling in her oh-so-adorable manner, she received her first victim—an interrogator for the US military.  He happily sat on the floor, leaning his back against the front of the sofa to gain her better access.  That’s when our girlfriend worked her magic. 

Guess I should explain.  This girlfriend is one of the country’s top rehabilitative, physical, massage therapists.  In fact, she was offered the position to go and work on the Olympic athletes for this past Olympics. 

Despite her having already put in an-eight hour day, our girlfriend looked forward to being able to work on any of us in need.  Why?  Well, as she states it, she doesn’t feel she’s accomplished anything if she isn’t sore herself by the end of the day. 

LOL.

And that’s the challenge.  Like I said, this girlfriend is stronger—waaaaaay stronger—than she looks.  She can deliver the most intense deep tissue therapeutic massages for eight hours straight and not even begin to lose the strength in her hands, fingers, etc! 

Each of the friends in attendance was about the same age—mine.  As such, we each arrived with our baggage of past injuries, aches and pains—just what our therapist girlfriend thrives on.  So, as we continued to catch up with one another amidst sipping wine, nibbling on cheese, crackers and other delicious treats, we took turns having our girlfriend ease the aches out of our bodies.  My turn came last.  And even then, after having spent several hours working on each of us, our girlfriend’s grip was a strong as ever.

Oh, did I mention why this gal is one of the country’s top rehabilitative, physical, massage therapists?  She has an uncanny ability to identify, within the first few minutes of having her hands on a person, their current and past injuries.  And…she knows just how to set about working out those aches in a safe manner that may leave the person feeling a bit sore, but by the next day will have them feeling better than they have in years.

Incredible!

Tune in tomorrow to learn more about this amazingly talented girlfriend and what she did for me.

Wednesday, Dec. 5, 2012

This season seems to herald in a time of reflection.  Whether you celebrate any of the numerous holidays or not, the winding down of the year brings with it a time of remembering years gone by.  Past traditions.  Loved ones.  It can be a time of unadulterated joy, immense sorrow or anything in between. 

For me, this season causes me to reflect more than I usually do.  And I like that—reflecting.  Why?  Because I believe it helps to keep me grounded.   Remember the things that are really important, not those that the media and society try to fool us into thinking are significant. 

More so than other times, this is a time of year when I actively seek out the simpler things that make me smile.  Those things, places or activities that make me feel light and fulfilled inside. 

Case in point.  I was in a thrift store the other day where I located three woven rattan hot pads.  Now most wouldn’t get as excited about such a little thing.  But then, I’m not most people.  Seeing the hot pads brought back fond memories about when my ex and I would go to Thrifty’s dollar days—the only time we could afford to buy anything—to find items for our kitchen and household. 

It was at those dollar days, almost thirty years ago, that I found several rattan hot pads, similar to the ones I’d just located in the thrift store.  I was able to afford to buy the Thrifty’s dollar days hot pads that week and enjoyed using them for over twenty-five years. 

When I moved a few months back, I was only able to locate one of the hot pads and took it with me, smiling over the happier times associated with it and how effective a hot pad it had been.  So, when I spotted the three in the thrift store, bound together with packing tape, as if they had just been waiting for me to find them, my heart soared and I laughed aloud at my discovery.  Yes, literally laughed.

My purchased simple hot pads cost a mere dollar, but the happiness they’ll provide, years of use over the next thirty years or so and pleasant stroll down memory lane…yeah…can’t put a price tag on that.  

Tuesday, Dec. 4, 2012

Discovering little hole-in-the-wall places can be exciting.  Where I now live is comprised of just that—an intricately interwoven menagerie of little hole-in-the-wall places—both establishments and areas in nature.  This evening, I stopped in at a newer restaurant.  Unassuming from the exterior, a common denominator in finding great little places up here, once I entered the door, I knew I’d chosen well.

The restaurant served traditional Himalayan cuisine.  In the far upper corner, an authentic movie played, the volume silenced, subtitles playing across the bottom of the screen. The movie was about the Himalayan mountain folks.   What they go through on a daily basis to deliver goods.  How they survive.  The risks they take, crossing treacherous mountain trails, along with their furry yaks, those trails barely wide enough for a man to traverse and sporting a thousand-foot fall into the awaiting churning ocean should one lose their footing.

As I continued to take in the interior ambiance, I had to force myself to focus over the delicious fragrances of cooking foods that wafted their way from the kitchen and rose from the delicious-looking plates set on other diners’ tables. 

Each table was unique, with either a window view, a cozy corner nitch or several that were set low to the floor.  The diners of those tables were asked to remove their shoes before settling themselves on the decorative pillows that served as seats.

I opted to sit at one of the floor tables and was grateful I did because of the opportunity it provided to slow down life’s pace and enjoy my surroundings.  The dishes I chose complimented one another quite well, the traditional seasonings of each spotlighting each of the ingredients.  It was fun to watch other diners who, like me, were enjoying the slower pace within the restaurant—a tranquil respite from life.  I also enjoyed glancing up at the still playing Himalayan movie on the screen above me. 

What a great find, that hole-in-the-wall Himalayan restaurant!  You can be sure I’ll return.

Monday, Dec. 3, 2012

Earlier today, I went for a walk with my two dogs, Sadie and Foster.  A short ways from our house, Sadie made a deposit on the sidewalk.  Armed with a plastic bag, I cleaned up her mess and scanned the area for a nearby trash receptacle.  Just up ahead and a little ways off the path, I spotted one and headed towards it.  After dumping my bag, I noticed a sign that announced I was entering a promenade.

Hmmm…a promenade?  That’s cool!  Don’t recall seeing this before….

Not one to pass up an adventure, I headed Sadie and Foster down the promenade.  In less than a minute, I’d left the street behind and entered an enchanted environment, reminiscent of the canals of Venice, Italy. 

Meandering waterways created an off-the-beaten-path mode of transportation.  The waterway was flanked by lovely homes.  Flocks of ducks ambled along the water, emitting an occasional quack and leaving a rippled V design in their wake.

Here, there was no sound of cars.  No reminder that streets surrounded us.  Instead, as I strolled this waterway oasis with Sadie and Foster, my mind raced with the possibilities it presented.  A new place to “street” run without having to run on the streets….  A quaint hidden course to my grocery store shopping center….  A pleasant path to ride my beachcomber when heading to nearby kitschy dining establishments….

As far as I could see, waterways peeled off the main one, twisting and turning in all directions.  They offered an endless array of paths to explore.  My mind raced.  Looking at my watch and the quickly setting sun, I determined that exploring further would have to wait until another day.  One where I had more time, was dressed more warmly and before the sun would set and limit my visibility.  But make no mistake…I’ll come back and explore all the waterways have to offer.      

Sunday, Dec. 2, 2012

I thought I’d share the following poem I came up with while my dogs and I explored some nearby waterways.

This Hidden Paradise

Waterways connect—

A hidden highway

Off the beaten path.

Bobbing boats highlight

Stacked kayaks that spotlight

A smattering of yachts.

Passerbys stroll the meandering pathways

That hug the waterways,

Creating a secret oasis.

Arching tunnels yield

To decorative iron benches

On which to rest.

Taking in the scenery

While enjoying the view—

This hidden paradise.

Afraid to blink

Lest it vanish into a dream

A wonderful…magical dream.

Saturday, December 1, 2012

How often have your found yourself conversing with another or reading something when along comes a word that you’ve never heard before?  Not only that, but even through context, you haven’t a clue what the word means.  There are some who feel compelled to use complicated language as a means to “show” how knowledgeable they are. 

Wanting to improve upon one’s vocabulary is an admirable thing.  But…knowing when and how to use those harder-to-understand words...that’s the sign of knowledge.  Just because a word is complicated, hard to pronounce or engages higher diction doesn’t make it appropriate to use.  When a person does so in the course of everyday conversation with folks who won’t understand their meaning, how does that show higher intelligence? 

Herman Melville, states, “A man thinks that by mouthing hard words he understands hard things.”  I agree with Melville and would add that using higher diction words in situations that don’t warrant them and with individuals who can’t understand their meaning, without having it explained to them, boarders on arrogance.   Why?

There’s a fine line between wanting to improve one’s diction and talking down to others.  Talking down to others occurs when a person slings together a litany of fancy-sounding words in settings when simpler ones—ones that can be understood by the masses—would work more effectively.

This talking down occurs in face-to-face conversations and also when authors “season” their writing with more complicated words.  Now don’t get me wrong.  Sprinkling in a smattering of more colorful words, which more exactly express one’s meaning, is great.  Not only does it stretch one’s mental capacities, but also those surrounding them.  But, when those same colorful words are strung together in non-stop, daisy chained, sentences, the meaning becomes so muddied that it’s lost in an obscure fog of vagueness and leaves the recipient feeling not only frustrated but also belittled—as if they’ve been talked down to.

I’m all for expanding one’s vocabulary.  Do it on a regular basis myself.  But I try to remember that not everyone is me and may not enjoy a good mind stretching.  As such, when I “season” my conversations or writings with more complicated diction, I use the approach that less is more in the hopes to make myself better understood.  Could I use higher diction words to be more succinct?  Absolutely!  But…what good does that do if I alienate those with whom I’m attempting to communicate? 

Friday, Nov. 30, 2012

“If you desire wisdom greater than your own, you can find it inside you.”  This is a great quote by M. Scott Peck, MD that reminds us to turn inward instead of being quick to turn to outside influences to see us through.

Too oft, folks figure that since a solution or wisdom doesn’t just drop in their laps, that they must be incapable of figuring out a situation on their own.  Though there are times when this is the case, if a person is patient and willing to still their rapid-firing mind that has them searching for answers elsewhere, they’ll find the wisdom they seek.  It costs them nothing and will likely be a better-suited solution than if offered by outsiders.  Why?  Simple. 

No one knows us better than ourselves.  As such, we are better equipped to solve our problems than others.  Not always…but more often than some would tend to think.  Media, society, etc, saturates us with quick-fix options rather than encouraging the quieting of one’s mind in order that they themselves might find what they’re seeking.

The next time you find yourself searching for answers, remember, “If you desire wisdom greater than your own, you can find it inside you.”