These ARE the times that try men and women's souls

The injustice. The unethical. The lack of compassion. The lack of understanding. The need to only look at appearances. The lack of true thinking. You all will know when I make sure it hits the news somewhere, somehow. Or wait for the book. I promise. I swear. The hideousness of life can be bone crushing. However, we will survive. My daughter will not only survive, but thrive.

Some day soon. Promise

Someday very, very soon there will be some fun posts. Maybe I'll cook and share recipes. Or maybe there will be pictures of me in a theatrical production. OR!!! I look forward to writing and posting pictures of my new home with Steve. In Seattle!!! I know I'll post pictures of my sacred mountain, Mount Rainer. Stay tuned. The black cloud is going to pass. It just has to, doesn't it?

This black to gray time started in December 2000. Ok, I did have a golden summer of sun, fun, great clothing, shoes, and slim, fitness, too! I can do it again. I can, I can. It all had everything to do with the fact that I had some money at that point. Now doesn't that sound just awful....but, really, REAL$Y ...being poor is no fun.

However, I'm also going on the premise that being in a fun, supportive, and loving relationship may be a ton of fun too. HEY!!! Steve shops, cooks, and does my laundry! So who knows just how happy I could be some day...!?! I'm willing to give it a try.

And, one has to know that I want to be NOT so worn out. I'm looking forward to a blog named, "Fun with Debbie". OK, maybe that's not such a good name.

Sunday, A true day of rest

Today started after a very difficult night. Nights are often filled with demons. Lately I sleep with all the lights and TV on. Last night nothing helped. Sometimes, especially at night,the world looks dark, unjust, and unforgiving. The demons took over. The demons try to destroy me by telling me lies. They try to make me believe that I am worth nothing. The demons try to make my mistakes a life sentence.

This morning I decided I could not let the demons destroy me. These demons do not belong to me. These demons are the people that want to hurt me and my children. I will not, I cannot let them win. My humanness and failings do not convict. They are merely opportunities to learn and to fix and not only survive, but thrive.

So this morning, I decided today was only about rest and serenity. And, so far, it's worked. Today, I even felt like dancing and dance, I did. I let the gentleness and the spirit flow within me. It wasn't difficult. It wasn't anything but goodness and love. I read once that the only way to be victorious over evil is to allow it to be absorbed into love.

It's that time, and I'm going to bed. Good night to everyone I love. Sleep well. We will win. Love.

What does one call those people?

Those people. Those people. Those beautiful, wonderful people that show up in one's life to light the way. Those people. You know them. Sometimes we can miss them when we aren't really looking. I have so many in my life. I can see them all now. I can see them on a daily basis. I can see those that are from before, those that were, still are, and stand before me as if in the present and in my future. Once they've brought me light, it never fades. I must confess that sometimes the darkness covers them and they appear to fade. Turns out it is fear that covers them. Just when we need them the most. But sometimes we need to walk that darkness only to find the light more lovely than ever before.

Those people. I love you all. Those people. Sometimes you are in my life forever. Mostly, though, they show up for a day or two or three. Sometimes it is for a few months. Sometimes it's a person who serves you breakfast at a restaurant and remembers you love orange marmalade and brings a jar of orange marmalade to work - just in case you come back for breakfast someday.

I sit on the edge of tears these days. Turns out that's not such a bad place to be. The tiniest of jars, the simplest of places and I was so unabashedly touched. In a world that seemed so harsh, bleak and filled with an unbelievable amount of injustices and yes, evil, there are still very, very small jars of orange marmalade given so sweetly and kindly to a virtual stranger.

I smile. I smile with me heart and my soul. The world deals such nasty blows. And it is those people , those people that keep the light on. I'm home now. I feel safe in my own heart, in my own soul. I'll keep the light on as well. One never knows when one can also be one of those people.

Forgotten? Unknown? Dismissed.

Just received an article about Labor Day. One referred to Labor Day as the Unknown Holiday and the other referred to it as the Forgotten Holiday. Got me thinking...

There are so many things that are forgotten (including Labor Day), but worse, these holidays,along with a vast list of events, values, ideologies, are merely ignored as being insignificant in a world ruled by egoism and narcissism. Regard for the past and those that have gone before, the lessons of history, are (no pun intended) things of the past. Respect is also an historical word. It is gone.

Gone forever? Today my answer is yes. I have hope for tomorrow on that one.......

Specific Request with Random Thoughts

Those of you who know me or at least think you know me, describe a job that would match the Debbie you see.

I'm an trying to stay focused and not rant and agonize over the dismal and pathetic state of this nation. And I am being very pragmatic. I will be moving to Seattle very, very soon. This is not a threat, It is a promise and it is going to happen. Not only do I have the opportunity to have a life with a man who loves and adores me, but there are jobs in Seattle. YES! Real JOBS! And lands alive, I NEED A JOB! The heck with retiring, I'm looking to find another career.

With the way things are going to go in this country, I'm figuring that all I can do is fashion the very best life possible and love my loved ones as much and as best as I possibly can. I will continue to do what it is I can do for my country. I so want to find an profession that will make some sort of difference in people's lives. Something, Something to help fight injustice. So much of it out there. It's not about fair or unfair. It is about the injustices.

Anybody as sad about life right now as I seem to be? And ya know, no matter what amount of cooking, or walking, or singing, or swimming that I do, it's still there. Maybe it's a grieving for an era gone. Senator Ted Kennedy's death affected me a great deal. Now that man had focus, passion, and courage. And did he have the ability to admit is humanness and then keep going every day or what? And did that man know tragedy, despair, and grief?

I'd love to be a Senator like Ted Kennedy, but that isn't going to happen real soon. I'd love to be in a position of power like that. But not happening real soon. So what do I do in my realm, in my reality?

Honest...I'm still hooked on the idea of a donut shop. I'd like to run a place where people gather to talk, relax, and be willing to express themselves in a civil and decent manner. Hmmm? Is that still possible? Ok so civil discourse is probably impossible. I still want my donut shop. I think.

Any input welcomed.

Outrage

I took a poll asking if President Obama should be "allowed" to speak to our school children? Of course I voted "yes". HOWEVER....allowed, allowed???? asking if the President of the United States of America should be "allowed" ..."allowed"??????? I am not outraged by the question. I am outraged that the question needs to be asked. Outraged and sad, extremely sad at the state of affairs.

Perfomance anxiety

I started this blog with excitement in my fingers and my heart. As soon as I saw that someone was following my blog as well as knowing that my boyfriend specifically told people to watch my blog, I froze. Complete blockage ensued. I don't know what it was today, but it broke.

Doubtfully most people are not aware of the extreme performance anxiety I experienced and to some extent still experience. I am a paradox. I love being on stage, but I really mind when people are specifically looking at me. I am better, much better.

So dear reader, if you are reading, thank you for your patience. I think the blockage has been fixed.

I am the embodiment of Marianne Williamson's poem. It is as follows:

Our Greatest Fear —Marianne Williamson

It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous,
talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world.

There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other

people won't feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of
God that is within us.

It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.

—Marianne Williamson

Perhaps...just perhaps that fear is what wears me out, what wears out so many of us.

Gratitude

for Senator Ted Kennedy's life and his dedicated service to this country, this nation. He is an inspiration.He worked tirelessly for all of us. He messed up his life and for a time suffered the consequences. (I suppose for some, he didn't suffer enough) However, he rallied and became a highly respected legislator, honored by both sides of the aisle.

And from what I could glean, he did it with passion and joy.

Thank you, Senator Kennedy. Be at peace. Job well done. We'll try to carry on for you and your brothers... best we can.

Arner's prayer addendum

And I still do not want to be an "old lady"!

My Arner's Prayer

I worked at the local family restaurant. Arner's, some years ago. I did NOT waitress. Arner's was my second job of which I had four: mother of two children, Arrow International,and a computer show on many weekends. I do not want to venture a guess as to the hours I would log in a week's time.

My manager once asked me why I didn't want to waitress. I told him I was fearful of dropping something like,let's say a full plate of spaghetti, on a customer. He said, "accidents happen." I said, "It wouldn't be an accident." I guess you could say my plate was full, so to speak. Customers at a restaurant could make me want to dump it...my full plate that is.

So often I encountered older citizens. Most were wonderful and fun. And then there were the "entitled" old ladies - grumpy, rude, and not fun to be around whatsoever.

..Which brings me to the prayer...."Please God, let me age, but please don't let me be an old lady."

The whole deal with growing older is to have a passion. It can be anything...reading, writing, ('rithmetic, for that matter)...art, music, crafts, bridge, cooking...whatever! and DO it with passion. And most of all, keep a well tuned sense of humor. And maybe biggest deal of all...do everything...with a light heart and joy. One really cannot take old age and infirmity as something personal.

Living in this world, being on this planet in this country right now is tough stuff. It was Thomas Paine that said, "These are the times that try men's [and women's] souls." It's been a long, hard 9 years. And I don't see it getting any better soon. And growing into retirement age right now, especially for me and so many is no picnic.

(At least I'll soon qualify for Medicare!)( Hmmmm??? Is that a government run healthcare system that is very pleasing and reassuring to most Americans?)

So maybe I need to change that Arner's prayer. "Please God, help me keep the joy in my heart. I'll need all the help I can get. I'm more and more worn out all the time."
"

Monday After the Accident

I am ok. I wasn't in the accident. I didn't even see the accident. However, I did see the aftermath.

The accident happened outside my mother's apartment. 3 children were injured and the man that tried to stop the car. No one seemed horribly injured. Everyone was extremely traumatized. I am still uninformed about the children's injuries. The man has a bumped up'd toe and a very introspective time ahead of him.

On lookers were gawking providing no assistance. Mothers were tending to their injured children. No one moved to get them water or towels. No one. Ok. That's not quite true.

.........when children are involved....I don't care what color or creed or how or why. Children. "Bless the Beasts and the Children....for in this world they have no choice, they have no voice."

.........to be continued later.........this is about my heartache when it comes to bigotry and racism....it's a hole in my heart....it scars my soul.

I'll continue with the details later....or maybe not but I certainly will have more to say....write...

Monday. The second day of the week. Going to IKEA.

Sunday

Yes, Sunday morning. The first day of the week and the first post on my blog. And yes, I am worn out.....

Most of my life...all 58 1/2 years of it (lawd, it just occurred to me that is over 1/2 century!) (I continue with dismay..) most of my life, the first day of the week was Sunday. I don't know when it happened, but now many calendars start with Monday. We all know "why" that is and has everything to do with corporate and "business".

For those that don't give a hoot or a holler about Sunday being the first day of the week for ohhhhh how many centuries? I suppose it is easier for the corporate types to track their very busy schedules. I guess. For those of us who know Sunday as the first day of the week, and have known that up close and personal for, yes, over half a century (!), as well as knowing it from the considerable reading and research one has done and does, it makes using a calendar with Monday as the first day, almost next to impossible to schedule anything correctly.

And, basically, it manages to turn this world of mine upside down...and wears me out.

I thought, mistakenly, that with so much change in this life, it might be "nice", it might be helpful at the very least, to keep the days of the week..the order of, that is....intact...to keep something, something consistent. Would it really be too much to ask?

Last year's purse calendar purchase was, I thought, perfect. However, and it really must be my wornoutedness that blinds me to the fact that I purchased a Monday start of the week calendar! Yes!!!! More to just wear me out, I swear.

And I swear that I checked and double checked. But, no! I tell you, I am worn out. My subconsciousness wants so much for Sunday back as the first day, that my eyes will lie to me. My eyes and my brain lie to me!

Well, those lies will get your appointments on the wrong day and will get you the reputation of being "disorganized" (ohh lawd there's another topic for this worn out optimist) confused, and, yes,ultimately, worn out.

There I leave you kind reader (if any) on this Sunday morning, my first blog post on this first day of this week.

still worn out after a night's rest (sort of...more on that as well.)