Monthly Archives: June 2015

Micro-epiphany time.

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This story is so non-story that if you don’t feel like reading nothing, stop now.

You have been warned.

Okay.  So I started walking a mile when I get up in the morning to get a jump start on my pedometer climb to 10000 steps.  Which I rarely make, by the way.  I try to enjoy the morning sun (or clouds, as it were, this morning), the fresh early breeze (or stagnant 93% humidity, whatever), and the feel of my muscles pounding the pavement (and the claw of hunger dragging its nails in my belly and slowing me down).

Basically, I go up and down my street.  The street is a half mile long, and so a full lap takes me to a mile.

This particular morning, a woman in a small sized sedan, pull into the cross walk as I was about to cross.  No, she didn’t almost hit me.  I just thought it incredibly rude to pull into the crosswalk when someone is standing right there with a white WALK symbol right there.  In fact, I mentally called her an idiot.

Let me preface this by saying that there’s this thing I do to prevent road rage.  My own road rage, not anyone else’s.  When someone cuts me off, or whatever else annoys me while I’m driving, I make up a story in my head.  Maybe they have a family emergency.  Maybe they are late for an appointment at the proctologist.

That didn’t work today.  I couldn’t think of a single good reason for someone to block me at the cross walk, slowing down my power walk.

So I prayed a brief prayer of forgiveness for calling her an idiot.  At first I tried to do what most humans do.  “But if she hadn’t….”  “It’s not my fault.  Someone else….”  Prayerfully passing the buck, we’ll call it.

Also one of my biggest pet peeves.  In real life, I own up if I’ve made a mistake.  But don’t expect me to take the fall for someone else.

So then I confessed the next sin, of trying to lay the blame on the wonderfully kind woman in the car that simply didn’t see me in my bright pink t-shirt and truly didn’t me to mini-interrupt my morning constitutional.  The second oldest sin in the book.  Adam blamed Eve for making him eat the apple, remember?  It’s not my fault!  My brain fought with me the whole time, too.

So.  Yeah.  To sum up.  Took a walk.  Got cut off.  Prayed.

I told you it wasn’t very interesting.

~wavygirl~

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I feel isolated tonight.

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Maybe I’m isolating myself.  Maybe my worries just caught up with me suddenly.  Maybe no one actually likes me except for when the timing is right for them.  Maybe it’s PMS.  Maybe it’s all true.  Maybe it’s all a lie.  Maybe.

Maybe there’s nothing I can do, and so I worry.  And maybe I should stop.

Anyway.  I feel alone in the world. I know that’s just a feeling, and it will pass.

But, it’s my truth at this moment.  Writing all this just made it worse.  But tomorrow is another day, they say.  Maybe they’re right.

~wavygirl~

Blessings today

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1.  The sky is blue.

2.  Because the torrential rains that were meant to strike our area veered south instead.

3.  My mind and body are fully functional.

4.  I have a husband I love and trust.

5.  My daughters are in good health.

6.  I live in a safe country.

7.  The smell of freshly mowed grass is wafting into my window.

8.  On the same note, I’m not allergic to grass pollen.

9.  My bills are up to date for the most part.

10.  I have Jesus in my life, and it makes all the difference in my perspective of the world.

Because, honestly, I’m feeling a bit stressed today.  I had a long weekend, and I hope that certain people make good choices.  I can’t imagine what it must be like to go through something like that, on either end, and I hope and pray that my lines of communication between my daughters and myself are open enough that it wouldn’t happen.

I can’t go into more detail than that.  I love my family, but communication is key.  Not yelling.  Not ordering around.  My family could use a little less of that and a little more hugs and “How was your day?” and then actually sitting and listening to the response without going off onto some wild tangent about how much your day sucked.

So, I’m praying for my family.  I’m not directly involved in the situation, and there is little that I can do at this point.  I believe that prayer can change things.  However, I also think that the parties involved have to think that as well.  I don’t have the words to change their thinking.  But I can pray that they meet someone someday, in the hopefully near future, that does.

In the meantime, I’m going to count my blessings, breathe, and pray.

~wavygirl~

Calm

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It is time to wait.  Time to enjoy some peace.  Time to have a brief moment of solitude, if I can.

My daughter’s baby will be arriving in approximately 6 weeks, and, while I haven’t done much writing, I am preparing our little corner of the world for the addition that is coming.  With the help of all who live here, of course.

I am in a sort of behind-the-scenes occasional meditation mode on what the next writing project on which I will be working.  It’s almost my favorite part of writing.  The day-dreaming, the lazy organizational mode.  I plan on writing a memoir.  I’m not sure that the story I have to tell will be one that anyone wants to read, but I don’t care.  I need to write it, and forgive everyone involved.  I need to tell about how these incidents affected my life, and mistakes I’ve made because of them, and good choices I’ve made because of them.

But I am having trouble organizing my thoughts on the matter.  It’s easier when it’s fiction.  Some of the time, anyway.  Especially a rough draft.  You go from point A to point B and so on.  You make sure that your characters are wonderfully flawed.  You make sure your nemesis has one redeeming quality.  You have a pivotal moment, a climax, and then it’s all wrapping up from there.

Sure, that’s overly simplified.  When I do Nano in November, I usually fly by the seat of my pants.  I think about my story and decide what needs to happen next, and then I go and write it.

My memoir is based on reality, but I realize that some fiction will go into the writing of it.  Because how much can you really remember from fifth grade?

Actually, when it’s painful, you can remember a lot.  Maybe that’s why I’m dragging my feet on this project.  Because I know it’s going to hurt.

In the meantime, I’m going to enjoy my lazy, daydreaming days (in the midst of a full time job), and I’m going to continue to relax before the next phase of our lives continue.

~wavygirl~