the strength of character I seek

In my life, I seek to be like my late great-aunt Vi, who never stopped in her practice of her faith.

I have unending respect for Vi. She was a teacher who, in the 60s, taught her fourth-graders lessons about human rights and dignity, issues people were dying for daily in those years.

My great-aunt, Violet Panzram, 1910-1996
My great-aunt, Violet Panzram, 1910-1996

She did more than teach those children. She sent money to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., as evidenced by a letter now in the archives of The King Center, dated April 20, 1967.

“You have been in our fourth grade Hall of Fame for many years,” she wrote to this great leader, “but never have I held you in such high esteem as since your strong statement against the war in Vietnam.”

She went on to refer to a slide show she’d seen of children affected by napalm. She was appalled.. In response, she sent a check to Dr. King “for (his) peace efforts,” and told him she prayed for him daily.

If she said she prayed for him daily, that’s what she did. There was never a truer Christian than Violet Panzram. Her faith led her to action and compassion, and a kindness that shown like a beacon.

In her 86 years no doubt she faced trials that tested her strength, character and faith, but I have no idea what they were. A few years ago, I found myself wishing I knew more about how she worked through her dark days as I faced my own.

I’d been betrayed by someone I trusted to a point where I’d lost my career, my home and my trusting nature.

I’d been betrayed by someone I trusted to a point where I’d lost my career, my home and my trusting nature. Thankfully, I didn’t lose my friends, nor did those who knew me best stop believing in me, and never did they believe the horrible lies that spread through our community.

I realize that because of mental health issues, I’m limited in some of the ways I can change in my behavior. There are times when the beast within me takes control, and I struggle to fight without fully realizing what’s happening.  I’ve sought changes in my life, but some won’t come until I learn other hidden truths & solutions, or until I die and shed the constraints I’m bound by in this life.

Me
Me

Yet thankfully there are changes no amount of depression, anxiety or the multitude of issues I deal with can halt. Some of those changes include the excellence of character my great-aunt demonstrated, so I pursue that through the choices I make every day.

Surely Vi had her good days and bad, perhaps not in the same manner I experience them, but with their own restrictive features.

I move forward, and trust I’ll be a better person tomorrow, and even better the day after. I’ll always have my faults and my failures that anger and frustrate those around me, but I pray the good in me will be what’s remembered when I’m gone.

Featured image credit: (candles) © 9comeback — fotolia.com; (background) © lpopba — Dreamstime.com; (background) © Leksustuss — Dreamstime.com.

moving slowly

“It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.”
― Confucius

I’ve been moving slowly for a very long time. But, I’ve been moving.

The clock dawdles, or so it seems, when you’re waiting for change. If you’re watching and waiting, it may be times are hard and you’re looking for a better situation. Something that makes you happy to wake up in the morning.

At times the challenges may be so overwhelming you need time to recuperate. Recovering from an unfamiliar and frightening situation can be difficult, to say the least. We seek safety and comfort first, and change second.

That’s what happened to me a few years ago. I found myself overwhelmed by circumstances over which I truly had no control. I wasn’t sure who my friends were, and out of fear they’d all deserted me, I avoided everyone.

Eventually things began to right themselves.

A close friend reached out to me and told me the truth about what others were thinking. It was good. I found new friends, a new job, and for the first time in 15 years, I bought a new car.

I learned something through all of this. Before we can truly move forward, we need a level of security. Simply finding that solid strength within ourselves can be moving forward, despite how a lack of change in circumstances may appear to others.

There were those in my life frustrated by my slow recovery. Thankfully, others recognized how lost I was and how much healing I really needed.

If you’re struggling,

sunrise in savanna_

whatever your situation, allow time to restore your energies, and forgive yourself for not bouncing back like a child’s punching toy clown. Some things aren’t meant to be rushed. The smallest step is enough.

When times are hard, our hope is in anticipation of a promising future. It’s there, waiting for us. Life works that way. Can I guarantee that for everyone? No, that’s not within my power. But it’s what I’ve seen in the lives of those closest to me, especially friends I’ve known for decades.

Every move forward, now matter how slow, is taking you where you want to go. And really, we don’t always know how far we’re going to have to go anyway. The next step may surprise us with unexpected joy.


Image Credit:(top) hourglass © Alexey Klementiev; sky © Pakhnyushchyy; lights © mehmetcanturkei; background © averroe — All, stock.adobe.com. (Bottom) © GraphicStock.com

the art of being my mother

Centered on the living room wall when I was growing up was a drawing that tore at me. It was of a woman, clearly weary, her head in one hand looking off to her left, a sleeping child draped over the other arm.

Not sure what was going  on here, but it was clearly important.
Not sure what was going on here, but it was clearly important.

While I now see the beauty in this art, as a child I believed my mother identified with it because of her own weariness with her lot in life, namely, me, and I felt a great deal of guilt over what I’d done to her.

We didn’t get along, my mother and me, until after my stepfather died when I was 28. By her own admission, her focus then changed from wife to mother.  It took us years to work through all the barriers. Issues remain today, but they aren’t the structure of our relationship.

I see her getting older and I’m constantly mindful of the fact she’s only a few years away from the age her parents were when they died. She’s on a fixed income and can barely afford her own needs month to month, yet she still jumps at the chance to give to me.

That’s what moms do, I guess, at least it’s what my mom does. I resisted it inside myself until I realized how important it was to her. I turn around and send her money when I can to help her in any small way.

A few years ago I went through terrible times, and it left its mark on me long after that. I was so deep in the pain of it myself I didn’t fully realize what my mom went through each day, wondering what I was undergoing and imagining the worst.

I need to keep to myself what is mine to know.

I hold back on telling her everything because it is too difficult to express. I don’t know that she should know all the details. I need to keep to myself what is mine to know.

Perhaps she did identify with the woman in that drawing, for reasons I’ll never really know. As one of the few pieces of art she’s kept through the years, it seemingly has meant something to her. Just as I don’t fully involve her in my experience, certainly she hasn’t fully involved me in hers.

I told her once, in a moment of reflection, what it had made me feel, and she simply said, “Really? I never knew.” Then smiled a little. “I always loved that picture.”

Dream a Little, Then Dream Bigger

Life is getting better.

Path through a mysterious dark old forest in fog

A few years ago the future seemed bleak, unpromising and frightening. I tried to believe things would get better, but I couldn’t imagine how that could happen. I just had to believe, though, had to keep my faith in God. He knew the way out.

There was a point, perhaps the lowest, when I was so broke I couldn’t afford toilet paper, and I’d used the last roll. Even if I’d had the money, I didn’t have enough gas in my car to get to the store to buy it. It was December, and it was snowing. I walked two miles to the food bank, where they gave me a roll of toilet paper, and a few other things.

One roll, that was all they could give me. Normally they would have had more, but it was a bad month for many people.

These days you can bet I’m always well-stocked in toilet paper. It’s a thing with me. I get below a back-up supply of four rolls and I panic. I even have a spare “hidden” for emergencies. Thankfully, I have the income to buy as much toilet paper as I need. Which may not sound like much to you, but as God is my witness... (GWTW fans will get that last line).
Beacon in the Storm-1
A year ago, I wrote this post about finding a new home I could afford and getting a part-time job to supplement my current income. Well, yesterday that first part happened. I’ll be moving in two months to a townhome that offers so much more than where I’m living now, for an affordable amount each month. It’s — dare I say it — perfect. I’m holding my breath, it doesn’t seem real.

What’s more, I got another housesitting gig that will cover the cost of moving. Did I mention my current least is up at the end of August? The timing, for me and my new landlord, is perfect. I have to believe God has something to do with all of this. And yes, credit to my friend Deb, who negotiated the townhome deal for me, on her own initiative. After seeing where I was living, she wanted me to find someplace safe.

Life is a journey, and some stops are better than others. I know if I’m blessed to live long enough I’ll face hard times again, but I also know I’ll have gained wisdom to get through them. Wisdom, faith and God. Thank you, God, for all three, and for friends & family who care.

Image Credits: (forest path) ©denbelitsky — Bigstock.com; (lighthouse) © Sharon B — Bigstock.com

Now Let Us All Limbo!

AdobeStock_111646585 [Converted]You  have your goals, you have your dreams, you are even taking steps to achieve them. Yet due to circumstances beyond your control, whatever they may be, you are currently in limbo. Someone or something else has power in your life right now, and you cannot move forward in the way you wish because of it.

What do you do when your dreams have to wait?

  • Keep the dreams alive in a concrete way. Maybe you save all your pennies, literally, toward a class you can take someday. (I get it, that’s all you can afford, and even that’s stretching it. I mean, you need new underwear, and you’re saving for a dream? Yes.)
  • Read a book, take an online class or webinar (there is so much out there!), find a website that specializes in what you’re seeking and keep up on the latest. A lot of what’s free has a bias or may be trying to sell you something, so keep your wits about you. But build your expertise by keeping up-to-date on the world you dream of, maintaining and growing skills, and learning about related subjects.
  • Find those who support your dreams and keep in regular touch with them. Whether it’s a college friend, a clergyman, or your grocery store clerk, maintain contact. That doesn’t mean you gripe about your present circumstances with them, rather, you dare to voice the dream is alive while you’re waiting for circumstances to change.
  • AdobeStock_110260540 [Converted]Look for other fulfilling options. Unless your dream is incredibly specific, there may be multiple ways to make it come true. If you have a particular talent, look at all the ways you could use it. You don’t have to seriously consider all opportunities, but don’t cut yourself short due to a limited focus.
  • Consider what your dream really is. I want to write, but what do I want to write? Not poetry, I determined that a long time ago. Probably not the Great American Novel. Do I want to use this skill to further a message? If so, what’s the message?
  • Build supplemental skills. Any person who wants to live on his or her creative talent had better have a bit of business sense, or be closely related to someone else who does. Generally creative people need someone more pragmatic by their side, but learn enough to know who can fill that role adequately.
  • Cry a little. Some days, it’s okay to wallow. Just set the timer.

If you’re in limbo, rest easy. I trust it will end someday in my life, and yours as well. In the meantime, one step forward is better than standing still.

 

Image Credits: © geosap — Fotolia

Keep Going

“If you are going through hell, keep going.”
― Winston S. Churchill

 
It hurts. It gets old. It’s a dull pain one day and a sharp pain the next. Getting through the bad times wears you down and shapes you at the same time. You can’t see your way out and you’re convinced it will never end.

I’ve been there, and it’s hard. There are those saying, get it together. And you think you should have more together than you do.

Several years ago I was the victim of a horrible injustice, the target of powerful people convinced of a truth that did not exist. It ruined my life, no doubt about it. I was in a shambles. There seemingly was no way out of my situation, no way around the binding realities.

Whatever my part had been in the events that led to my despair, it was disproportionate to the result. I didn’t know who my friends were, who I could trust and who trusted me. Who cared for me?

Little by little I came to realize that the people most important to me cared. Yes, I’d lost some friends who bought into the half-truths and manipulated stories, and there was nothing I could do about it. Some of those people were important to me, and I mourn the loss of their friendship to this day. But I had to move forward, and rely on those who proved themselves true and kind of character.

My family saved my life. If nothing else, these events brought me closer to all of them, and for that I am grateful.

As time went on, things changed. I got a job, one I’m good at with people who care about me like family. While I still live in a less than desirable apartment complex, I have a new car (well, it’s a year old now) that has given me the opportunity to visit my mom on several occasions, both for pleasure and to care for her when she needs it.

And the future doesn’t look quite as grim. There appear to be options that will end all of this when the time comes.

Are these good times? Actually, I’ll be disappointed if that turns out to be the truth. These are better times, and hopefully good times, joyous times lie ahead. But I don’t know. I’m content with what I have now.

I fear the return of bad times, likely not the same bad times but something else, before experiencing truly good times again. If that’s the case, so be it. I can only take what I’m given and seek what can be found.

For my friends who are suffering, it can last an eternity, I know. Some of what gets you out of the pain is your own spirit, some is good fortune and some is dumb luck. I have no magic formula. But believe in the future.

Keep going.


Photo Credit: © EcoView — Fotolia

I Made Up My Mind … but Forgot What I Decided

Ah, life. If it isn’t one thing, it’s another.

AdobeStock_100009763 [Converted] c geosapI finally figured out what I was going to do with the next ten years, and what do you know, a few other people had some input into those ideas…people whose input matters. So the figuring is starting all over again.

But these are people who love me, so not to worry, right?

Yes, I’ve figured out a few things. Life is going to get you, one way or the other. You’re going to have good times, bad times and a lot of everyday, ordinary times.

You’re going to learn and grow (or not). You’ll think you’ve made it, only to find the rug pulled out from underneath you. You’ll think all is lost, only to have it given back to you again.

Those you think are for you will betray you and those you think could not care less about you will save your life.

It’s not all that mixed up, to be sure, or unexpected. But I made up my mind.. and forgot what I decided. And realized, it’s all a process leading to a destination we can’t imagine.

So here I go again.


Image Credit: (Cat) © geosap — Fotolia

Forgive, Forget, Phooey, Finally

I really want to forgive you. Maybe. Frankly, that’s a gift you don’t deserve. You turned a blind eye to even the possibility of the truth, and instead chose to believe weak stories given to you by others, people who had a clear motive to convince you of falsehoods. You used unprofessional conduct and gross abuse of power in an effort to raise your profile before others. You preyed on my weaknesses, and I’ve paid a high price for it.

Who are you to do this to me?

Justice is blind ( ... or maybe not )

The problem is, all that my anger is doing is making me unhappy. Yes, I revel in the thought of your undoing, but that’s not likely to happen. Is there karma at work in this world? Is it true “what goes around, come around”? As comforting as those thoughts are, I’m not sure the world is that equitable.

And if it is, what did I do to deserve what happened to me?

ForgivenessYou’re not worth my thoughts, my passion anymore. Forgiveness isn’t a matter of grace from me, it’s a matter of moving forward. Of course I have constant, in-your-face reminders of what you did. It continues to jolt my life today.

It minimizes my life, and my future. It puts me at risk. That frightens me, and now I’m angry again at your arrogance in thinking you had the right to do this to me. Then I remember the people I respect think the same thing of you I do. They know who I am, and they know who you are.

I hope I’m truly able to forgive you soon, for it’s the best thing for me. It gives me back my power, and I plan to claim it. Soon. But by the same token, I hope you’re held accountable by the ones deemed proper to do so.


Since originally posting this I’ve come a long way. Yes, there’s still some anger, but it’s a tiny pest now, not a hulking monster. Time and a desire to move forward help. I won’t say forgiveness is easy, especially when the unwarranted damage has such serious and long-term consequences. And I stand by my last sentence above.

 

Image Credits: (lady justice) © Kanvag – Fotolia; (key to forgiveness) © Ksishchenko – Fotolia

Different than I Expected

I’ve found life isn’t getting harder, or more challenging, or more difficult than I expect it to be. But it’s getting more difficult in ways different than I expect.

I seem to be able to divide my life today into several parts:

making the same mistakes with the same predictable results; facing the same problems but with new challenges; blazing new, hopefully more productive trails; and dealing with the unimagined, some of it wonderful, some of it sad.

Dad, me, Beth
My Dad, me and my sister

Then there’s always the predictable, of course. My parents are aging; both will turn 80 this year. On my dad’s side of the family, that’s nothing. On my mom’s, it’s a little more meaningful. While today they’re healthy, the reality is, it doesn’t matter what you might reasonably anticipate, they are at an age when death might be unexpected, but you can never truly say it’s shocking.

I don’t worry about them dying, but I’m acutely aware they will someday, and I’m not looking forward to it. From time to time I’m made aware of the possibility that something I never thought of could happen, and one of them would be gone, just like that. I can’t dwell on those thoughts. Awareness it could happen is enough.

My friend Sandy, looking at family history, had no reason to believe her mother would live past her early 70s.

Now her mama is 90, and in reasonably good health, but little by little, her memory is diminishing. Sandy didn’t anticipate facing all the problems of finding care for her mother, who’s become increasingly incapable of caring for herself.

Fortunately, she found a good assisted living residence, and that will greatly take the burden off her shoulders. Believe me, she’s happy to have these problems, thrilled to have her mother with her. When she gets a chance to put it in that perspective. So often, she’s so tired.

She’s also dealing with the declining health of her husband, who’s doing well at this point but could turn at any moment. Or, live for years. That man is stubborn. In the back of my mind (okay, I have said it out loud once or twice) is the thought maybe we should worry a little more about Sandy’s health. She’s almost 70, but you forget it to look at her. If she died, a lot of things would fall apart for her husband and mother. Quickly.

That’s the sort of twist life seems good at turning. We expect her mom to go, we’ve been preparing, mentally, at least, for her husband to leave us, but one day she could just be gone without warning.

Many years ago my then-boyfriend’s childhood friend Dan had a rare form of cancer and was given months to live.

Because of his prognosis, he was asked if he’d be willing to take part in an experimental drug treatment. He did, and it extended his life long enough for another experimental drug program to come along…and then another. Eventually, Dan was cancer-free.

Dan had been prepared to die. He was left instead struggling with how to live, and floundered while adjusting his thinking.

Some days the little things throw me for a loop.
Mimi looking out the window
Mimi looking out the window

Today I reached over to scratch my cat Mimi behind the ears, and she cowered, terror in her eyes. I had no idea what was wrong. I held out my hand so she could sniff it, but she would have none of it. She walked away and sat five feet from me, staring in apparent deep contemplation.

That was three or four hours ago. Just now I got up from my desk and walked over to her, and she was fine. I have no idea what was wrong before, and I likely never will know. It upsets me. It’s never happened before.

If my cat is terrified of something, that’s not a little thing. Certainly not to her, therefore not to me.

I didn’t expect my life to be the way it is today,

and sometimes I’m at a loss with how to deal with the sense of sadness that surrounds me when I think of what I did expect and did want from life. Those moments don’t last, however, or dominate my thinking.

I’m proud of the skills I’ve developed in dealing with the pain and sorrow I’ve felt over the years, in the unexpected as well as absolutely foreseeable events that have transpired.

So now I’m going to cuddle with my cat. If she’ll let me.

 

 

 

Photo Credit: (Winding Path) © PetarPaunchev — Fotolia

A Quiet Celebration

Every once in awhile, life throws us a curve ball — a really cool, out-of-the-blue,  unexpected, happy curve ball. Now, I’m not really sure that as a sports term, curve ball is the accurate phrase here, but you get what I’m saying. Something we didn’t expect.

Most of the time, it seems, those unexpected events knock you off your feet with their negative consequences. You don’t know what to do at first, you’re floundering until someone or something helps you get it together. In this case, initially I was cautious. If I celebrated, did I break the spell?

Then I thought, if this is good news, it’s going to stick. If it only seems to be good news, if it turns out to be something else, then why not enjoy the momentary sense of relief anyway? I’m certainly well aware things can change. It’s not as if they did, I’d be disillusioned or destroyed.

So I’m going to celebrate. Quietly, and just with the kitties. But I’ll have a good evening. Because when good things happen, we need to mark the moment.

Victory Girl sm

Let Me Tell You ‘Bout My Best Friends

Friends sNot long ago, a friend of mine told me he had a tremendous amount of respect for the way I’d handled a challenging situation a few years back. This was someone who, more than just about anybody in my circle, knew what I’d dealt with, and recognized the struggle I faced overcoming the pain and resulting obstacles.

He didn’t presume to know what I’d gone through, but listened and learned, and in that way was able to lend me the support I so desperately needed. It meant a lot to me. What was even more significant was his offer to help me move past my current situation and on to a life more suited to my needs.

When we go through a painful time, friends can either help or hinder us. Not everyone has the same gift of a heart that listens; some help in other ways, perhaps not as profound but ultimately part of what makes us whole again.

cat with mauseThere are the friends who believe in you because they know who you are, and the friends who believe in you because the facts add up in your favor. The friends who just met you and say, “I’m sorry,” when there’s a setback, and mean it, but don’t let you wallow in self-pity.

The friends who call others fools for rejecting you because of rumors.

I don’t believe “all things happen for a reason,” because there is no justification for some behavior, some deliberate actions that hurt people for no sound purpose. (In particular, you can’t tell me the horrors of war “happen for a reason,” but that isn’t really what I’m talking about here.) I do, however, believe the character of a person is found not in their success, but how they handle life’s hardships, whether it’s their fault or not.

A young woman I know, about to graduate from college, had her heart set on a high-profile, prestigious career, and she was well on her way to achieving that goal when she was diagnosed with a chronic disease that will prevent her from pursuing that path. I don’t know her that well, but I imagine she felt stunned, confused, angry, perhaps a little lost. No one’s at fault here; illness is part of life. A painful part, sometimes, physically and emotionally.

3 birds pyramid. Watercolor

While I feel for her, at the same time I believe in a way she’s lucky. I wouldn’t be foolish enough to say that to her now, and it may be years before she reaches that conclusion herself. I believe, however, she’s savvy enough that she will.

To face a setback like this when you’re this young, and to overcome it, which she most certainly will, brings phenomenal strength. It won’t be the last disappointment she encounters (I wouldn’t say that to her now either), although, perhaps being the first of its kind, it may be among the hardest.

I hope those closer to her than I am, those who know her better and know what she needs, are giving her the empathy and support to help direct her onto the right path. No doubt college counselors have seen this sort of thing before, the details different, the results the same, and they have practical advice. Her sister knows her better than anybody, and can put her arm around her and hold her. And so on.

Life’s a journey. Thank goodness for friends.

 

Image Credits: (All)© Wegener17 — Fotolia

the elusive perfect gift

I’ve completed my Christmas shopping. In fact, I was done before Thanksgiving.

giftsNow, before any of you say (sarcastically or otherwise), “Well, good for you!” or mutter under your breath, “I hate you” here’s the whole truth: I only had to buy Christmas gifts for one person.

That’s one of the few advantages of being truly broke, the burden of picking the perfect gift is lifted. Nobody expects gifts from you. In fact, they don’t want them. My family knows I struggle to pay my utility bills, especially this time of year, and they couldn’t really enjoy anything I spent money on. Their concern would go so far as the money spent to mail the gifts to them.

At the same time it makes me incredibly sad. These are the people who are doing everything they can to help me get back on my feet, financially, emotionally, whatever I may need. They’ve been there for me in what was truly my darkest hour, suffered silently imagining what I was going through, and believed in me no matter what the cost.

My relationship with my mom has been strong for years, but events of recent years have established and reinforced a healthier, closer bond with both my dad and my brother. While times have been terrible, results, at least some, have been overwhelmingly good.

I long for the day I’m able to pay them back, if only in the simplest of ways, a Christmas gift or two.

Of course I have no idea what I’d get them. My brother lives on one coast, my dad on the other, my mom in the Upper Midwest, me in the South. We couldn’t be more widely dispersed, that is, in this nation, and as such, we don’t really know what gifts would be most appreciated by the other. Not even what gift certificates would be preferred.

Not to say anyone fails in their gift-giving. We figure it out and do just fine. It’s just that those special gifts you know someone would value because you’ve spent time with them elude me.

So this year I’m looking for a way to say “thank you” and “I love you” that will cost me what I can afford and be valued by the recipients.

Knowing me, I’ll think of that perfect gift in January. Fortunately, my brother’s birthday is just a month later.

giving girl

 

a run is better than a re-run (revisited)

I’ve decided to run a 5k. My first run, ever.

woo-hooActually, I didn’t really decide to do it. It was somehow decided for me. In the course of idle conversation with a friend whose husband and kids ran a 5k the morning before, suddenly the two of us were committed to running the same in exactly eight weeks.

I may not be sure how I ended up making that commitment, but I’m glad I did. I believe I can and I will. Yes, I’m scared of making a fool out of myself – mostly by having a time comparable to the world’s worst marathon runner. Yet I got on the treadmill this morning and did surprisingly well. Maybe, just maybe, I can get through this and not only have a successful run, but within a moderately successful time. After all, I can walk it in less than forty-five minutes.

Wow, that’s more than I ever would’ve thought I could do

only a few short years ago. But since then I’ve been through hell & high water and survived. Now I’m ready to willingly take on some challenges outside my comfort zone, even my general “desire” zone. I’m picturing myself crossing that finish line with my friend’s teenage daughters, who finish well before me, cheering me on.

This will involve some other challenges for me as well, such as tossing a few dearly-held habits. Maybe coming to terms with one or two medical realities. Probably should invest in some running gear. I know I’m going to have my ups and downs in my desire to run this thing, but I am going to do it.

When I was going through the aforementioned hell & high water,

I frequently would hear the frustrating words, “everything happens for a reason, and someday you’ll understand.” I still don’t know if I believe that. Years ago my dad told me this: whether life is good or life is bad, we always think it’s going to stay that way. Meaning, life has its ups & downs and we tend to be pretty short-sighted when we’re in the middle of either state. I think I follow my dad’s way of thinking a little bit more. Not that I have to discard one belief to accept the other, but my pragmatic side is overruling the mystical in this case.

Still, lessons learned and applied during hard times make the good times better, and challenges taken on as a result of growth keep life from being re-runs. I’ve faced tough times before, but never those that changed me as deeply as what I faced three years ago. I think they changed me for the better, and that will make the good times really good. I just hope the good times last a while. I’ve earned it.

 

Time IIUpdate:

Since I first ran this piece in January, I’ve tried training for a 5k twice, and found my body won’t go for it. I can walk endlessly at a very brisk pace, but shift into running and everything falls apart. I’m proud to say I tried and I’m also glad I was smart enough to quit before trying a third time.

I’ve also started to see some possible purpose come into my life

from those trials of recent years. I continue to resist the idea that “everything happens for a reason” because it hurts to believe there could be justification, if you will, to the malicious deeds of others. But life goes on in a good way, and I continue to grow.


Image Credit: (clock) © Jakub Krechowicz; calendar © Stillfx — both, DollarPhotoClub.com

oh you know what I meant to say

Today I was struggling over writing just the right comment to a fellow blogger.

The blog is Problems With Infinity, and she’s known for being a little outrageous and terrifically funny. Her humor’s pretty edgy, and I’ve come to appreciate her wry wit and always look forward to seeing what she has to say & draw.

Anyway, I was trying to come up with a less-cliché’d word than “hilarious.” Looking at other comments, there had to be a less oft-used word, something that would stand out. She’d done a particularly clever, farcical drawing (now why couldn’t I think of those words when I was leaving a comment?) that could have crossed a line, but didn’t.

After struggling with my comment, and saying something less than what I wanted to say, I began to think about how a) online thesauri are rotten and b) you really do have to remain an avid reader to maintain a good vocabulary. For the last few years, I’ve lost my motivation to read.

Stick figure in a pink dress

That’s a result of some highly personal issues in my life that would understandably lead anyone to an aversion of books. If that sounds strange to you, stick with my blog, maybe someday I’ll have the courage to talk about it (it will be a long time down the road, however, so that’s not a ploy to entice you to keep coming back).

Blogging has brought some of that motivation back, if for no other reason than I’m tired of using the woosy thesauri found on Microsoft Word and through Google. I need my mind to be own best reference.

So thank you, all of you bloggers with original, crazy, thought-provoking or simply entertaining posts that have pushed me back into something that was always an essential part of my life, something I thought I’d lost. I wish I could come up with a HILARIOUS way to end this, but it would probably fall flat, and I mean, how embarrassing.