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.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
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.
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.
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."
"
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, August 10, 2009
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.
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, August 9, 2009
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.)
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.)
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