Year: 2020

What I’ve done today:

* Put up 2 small pools to help local wildlife get water. I used kiddie pools and solar powered waterpumps. My sister and I added rocks and bricks to help both birds and insects be able to access.
* Refilled the hummingbird feeder.
* Weeded
* Added four stores to one of my RPG games
* 2 loads of dishes
* swept the floor
* applied for 3 jobs
* made herby potatoes
* checked on Smashwords. My books will become available on 10 different sites once the programming is done. WOOT!


Herby Potatoes:
Bake 1 very large baked potato (takes about 30 minutes while you are watching TV.)
Cut the potato in half, and chunk. Take off the skin.
Add to an electric hot plate with sprinkles of Mrs Dash or other herbs.
Add in handful of frozen broccoli
Add in 1 tablespoon butter, in small pats, to the hot plate. Close. Cook 10 minutes
Stuff your face.


I have a plan to keep up with the gardening over the next heatwave and get more plants in the ground. I am looking forward to mounds and mounds of basil. We’ve already attracted a few fireflies and hummingbirds.

My life is SO DIFFERENT than it was even just a few years ago. I am enjoying my days, without having someone drag me down, destroy my things, destroy my self-confidence, force me to his schedule, or suck the joy of my curiosity out of my day-to-day because he has to take everything personal.

I’ve met someone who is interested in me, who I am, and while shy, is willing to remain himself without running me over.

I’ve made my household cleansers that do an awesome job.

I may be scared out of my mind half the time, but there is such beauty all around me.

I’ve been told more than once that I am my own worst enemy.

The frustration I feel right now is something I am not going to spend a lot of time on.

I have faced lots of obstacles in my life. With very little help or understanding by others. Just the opposite, in fact. I know it makes me different. Goodness knows, I’ve posted about my narcissistic ex several times and mentioned the violence of my life.

I see a lot of posts on Facebook about how angry everyone is. How frustrated people are.

You have a right to have an opinion. A voice.

I guess I have to say that if you want to take and make all of this COVID stuff personal to your specific lifestyle, that’s your choice.

I have to say that dealing with workplace bullying and feeling ostracized is not something I talk about very much. I do live differently. I’ve had jobs that I am well qualified for given to someone else because I am different. I’ve been denied promotions. I’ve been treated as though I am a child because of my birth defects. I’ve been shot down or had my ideas stolen by others because I tend to see a lot of things my bosses don’t or because I keep things simple.

You don’t see me screaming about that. I think the worst I have said is that I am tired of being treated like a doormat.

Right now, as I am job searching, I’m just as scared about money as you are. My business won’t support me. I made career goal choices back in November that I am sticking to, as hard as that is to do- turning down a job offer- because I realized there are some limits that aren’t worth crossing for any employer. I realize that interviews go both ways, even if the HR people I talk to are judgmental or aggressive. It affects me even more right now, trying to go after jobs that better suit those career choices to support the care I feel for others, instead of treating people as disposable. Over the course of my life, I had to learn to be flexible, maybe too flexible, to support my family, to keep my home intact, to build skill sets. And now, HR people see that “moving around” I did as a contractor as “unreliable” when the normal before COVID was to stay in a position for 3-5 years, instead of taking care of clients or seeing that some of those clients can’t make up their minds about what they want or need and it’s time to let them get to it, instead of cramming my thoughts down their throat.

I understand your need to stomp. Because I have, too. I also have to say: be accountable for your life the way you’ve made me accountable for mine. I have to own my mistakes, choices, and successes. I’ve had to learn to adapt far beyond what is commonly acceptable in order to live with the choices I’ve had to make, whether or not those circumstances were under my control, which they normally were not.

I lost myself along the way. To my ex. To my family. To employers that enjoy seeing people crack out of their own feelings of helplessness or ego. To being forced to give up a career path I can never get back because I’ll never have the money to go after environmentalism or forensics. So you can lose yourself to your anger, to society, to the poison I see in the sniping of others. Or you can adapt. Make new choices. Let go. See what we all have in common and find NEW WAYS to make your business run. You can make yourself miserable. Or you can find ways to make those laws work for you. You can make yourself sick or you can open your heart again to love, and finding ways to take down your walls and limits. That choice is always yours.

WOOOT!

I may be a bit slow on this, but I have found an awesome place that will get my books on the following sites:

So HUGELY excited about this. Going for Google Books next. WHO-HOOOO!

Kobo

Apple

Library Direct

Baker & Taylor’s Axis 360

OverDrive

Scribd

cloudLibrary

Gardners Extended Retail

Odilo

Gardners Library

Grrr! I HATE it when people make assumptions.

Why does everything have to come down to gender and or race?

BLARG!

I care about people but I am really getting tired of dealing with other people’s sensitive natures while my own cares and concerns are just… trampled on. I know, I know. I say it alot.

I was really offended by the selfishness of someone I know who just… expects that all his needs will be served on a platter. He had resources given to him that others don’t have enough of and he complained about not having more. And when I spoke about it, as inappropriate that this person came at ME about it, (not to me.  AT me.) when I have nothing to do with it, it was taken as “crap, this is going to be a woman screaming about sexual harassment.”

Oh, just BULL. I am a grown woman. Not a child. How about getting to know someone before you start putting words in their mouth? It was about SELFISHNESS.

Don’t ask for equality and expect special treatment. It applies to me just as much as the next person.

I am really offended that a bunch of “males” feel they have to apologize for accidentally swearing in front of me. They’ve been TRAINED to think like that. That they can’t be human or themselves, just because I happen to be in the room. And I am aware that not all males swear. Just… no one asked me. No one got to know me. Just assumptions everywhere on who I am and what I’m about.

And if you have to ask, try a bit of an experiment. If you are around someone who drops the F-bomb a lot, mentally substitute the word “smurf” for it. Say those same phrases back. You’ll crack up laughing and will never be the same again.

I got real problems to deal with here. Real ones that are the same as everyone else’s. How to survive, how to find work, how to grow my business, and the sheer NUMBER of doors that get closed on me every damned day. I don’t sit here and scream about it because of my age, gender, or yeah, my race. I was raised different. Love and violence. I am klutzy, so I get treated like a child half the time. As though I am not paying enough attention to my limbs when it’s a genetic condition or severe scar tissue from childhood, which I won’t write about the reasons on that, but you can hazard a guess.

I want to be happy. Being pissed all the time is a waste of my life. It makes about as much sense as spending money on heat in the winter with an open window.  I know this. And this stupid crap is eating at my brain again. Even with the return to meditation and my knitting. Which, by the way, I’ve gotten the other sleeve 99% done. I was an inch short when I pulled it off the loom and now I have to figure on how to fix that. But, hey. Part of the process, right? I’ve started on one of the front panels.

I guess part of me is really irritated by all of this because I sense a possible budding friendship. Maybe. And it’s been impacted. By assumptions. Those damned assumptions that mess everything up and you never get that back.

Every time assumptions get made, everyone involved gets cheated.  Sighs.  People read into stuff that gets said or they overhear half a sentence and think they know what’s going on, when really?  It’s none of their business in the first place.

I have to remind myself that I am not in control of the world and I actually prefer it that way.  Because that very statement is the reason I actually wound up writing the Novo series.  I had a character, Eloise, in my cop series that I wanted to kill off because I made her so nasty.  I used every trick to show why someone would attack her.  Personality traits that grate on the nerves.  Like overly nosy neighbors or people who think they are “caring” but really, just are trying to correct you to only their way of thinking or style of dress.

I know this has really gotten under my skin.  Someone I love very much is gone from my life at the moment.  He complains about being forced into the Jones-lifestyle by his family.  But he just chose it for himself.  I don’t know if he realizes it or not.  It isn’t my place.  But, with everything this person knows about me and what was done to me, and we actually intimately understand these issues in each other’s pasts, he basically just asked me to sit there and keep my mouth shut.  Asked me to be something I am not until basically, I explode into “being me.”  He thinks it’s funny.  I miss this person so much but he really isn’t being the person I love at the moment.  It’s his choice.  I won’t make it for him.  But I can’t be around someone who says he loves me for who I am and then… asks me, in that pleading way, not to be that.

I think it basically comes down to grief and loss.  Again.  I feel the void in my life, keenly.  And, sensing another budding friendship of someone who might understand me, accept me for who I am, which is very rare for anyone, seeing it get messed up because of a third party’s assumptions and misunderstandings is more than I care to deal with at the moment.

SMURF.

SMURF SMURF.

smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf. smurf.

Maybe I will kill Eloise off afterall…

I had something wonderful happen today.

After the “I don’t know how to deal with this nastiness” that I wrote about yesterday, my co-worker made up for it in spades today. This co-worker is my polar opposite. He said “thank you for helping me.” It wasn’t gratitude, which makes me grit my teeth like I’ve chewed on tin foil. It was a genuine, heartfelt “thanks.” Because he knows how hard his time at work would be without the help. He didn’t exactly have the skills he needed and unless you are specifically in this particular office, someone outside of it wouldn’t know that.

I said thank you back. This person helped restore some of my faith in humanity. That there are people out there that DO care about their jobs. He is one of them. Even tho we are complete polar opposites. I see how he puts aside anything that he is doing to help- help any employee that comes through the door. Even if what he does is a colossal whatever. I like that about this person. We talk about what decisions and I show him easier, better, faster ways of getting the task done without causing more work for everyone involved. He gets frustrated, because he doesn’t see it at first. But he always listens. Applies most of what I show him. And he is having an easier time, each and every day. More time to get up and do other stuff and help others. He has to learn Excel. Which I am advanced at and he is just beginning. He said thanks for many things. Including how I write out instructions and how I do, do, do, then make him do, do do.

I think this is helping me step away from all that nastiness from before. It may be baby steps, but it’s part of why I said, thank you, back to him. Because he is open and so caring. It’s been a little teeth gritting, of my own, in this place, but most of the people I have had to assist in getting things back on track took offense at first, and have, slowly, come to understand that they aren’t being yelled at. That we are raising some awareness and helping everyone along the way. Some even come to joke with me about it, as annoying as it is. I can see there is an easing of tension. I like that, too. It’s what should have happened at the last place, but the people involved there had NO desire to stop running on the squeaky mouse wheel, refused to make decisions, made a lot of fuss over things that really didn’t need fussing about, made mountains out of nothing on a frequent, daily basis, and didn’t really appreciate anyone around them. I remember, more than once, being yelled at for saying “thank you for getting me that information.”

So, I think part of how I am going to deal with Ms. Know-It-All-Nasty-Who-Knew-Me-For-All-Of-15-Hours is to say thank you, correct my own behavior that may mirror hers, but not beat myself up. I’m allowed to have flaws and I’m allowed to be angry that I was dumped on so badly, being held to a higher standard no one else was and doing the work of 6 people while others got to just walk out of the office for the day whenever they felt like it. Yeah. I’m allowed to be pissed about that. And if Ms. K-blah-blah can’t see that, shouldering that burden on myself is just… stupid. Not saying it doesn’t hurt on some level or that I shouldn’t feel anything. I’m not a rock, after all.

I will just have to be more clear that patience, kindness, caring, and a willingness to help does NOT mean I am a doormat. If some third party, I should say fourth, since Blah-blah is already a 3rd party, listens to that garbage, well, I really don’t want to be around that person anyway.

It was very, very nice to have someone say “Thank you” today.

And I am halfway done with my sweater’s second sleeve…

I wish, in some ways, I could stop starting these as “It’s been an interesting week.”  But, as always, it has been.

My sister and I made some headbands for masks for our dear friend who is a nurse at a nursing home.  I wanted to share.

We deliberately chose white fabric, so it could be bleached.  (That was my sister’s idea.  Not mine.)  I chose the 4 buttons.  Every design I have seen is with 2 buttons, but that doesn’t really do what I wanted, which was to avoid ear chaffing completely, not just the backs.  We came up with 2 designs to start.  One- just a flat bar with 2 buttons, because there could be a lot of headgear and putting a headband in on top of that wouldn’t do well.  Also, for people with shorter hair.  Two is about 15 inches, with a  7 inch elastic band,  with 2 buttons on each side of the head.  That way, the elastic would go above and below the ear, hopefully completely.  I’m coming up with a design that goes around a pony tail or bun.  We also deliberately picked non-stretchy fabric.  Those fall apart or loose their elasticity in harsher detergents;  we wanted something a little more durable that could stand up to daily bleaching and washing.

Sighs… I had a massive scare at a local store.  I am allergic to cleaners.  Severely allergic.  Especially to bleach.  With our new laws here, go in one door and out another, everyone is forced to walk in a pattern.  The store was using a hand pressure washer to spray their carts clean.  Indoors and right next to (within a foot) the aisle to exit the building.  I barely made it outside without hacking my brains out.  Every other store around here has been carefully washing with cleaner and paper towels.  I have been assured by the store that there is an alternate exit, and they will consider putting up signage for people like me.  Woot.

I have been dealing with a personal issue that I can’t seem to let go of.  The nastiness of a person who replaced me at a position I was at.  I won’t say when or where.  VERY judgemental person, who took a lot of things personal because I wouldn’t kiss her feet.  As though she is the only person in the world who knows what asbergers is or has had to deal with it.  There was a lot more along that line, such as talking down to people like she is the “only person” who has ever taken in other people.  As I was training this person, I was trying to let her know there wouldn’t be a lot of assistance with more than half of the position, because it was a system I designed to deal with a massload of inconsistencies and requirements.  No one else would know it.  She took it solely as me touting my horn.  While I am proud of what I designed, she completely missed the point.  That she would have no assistance and no one would be able to answer her questions.  On top of that, she thinks I am cruel because I recommended that a new employee be let go.  For his own sake.  He didn’t have enough skills needed to do the job correctly and he felt like such a failure.  Every day.  It was a critical role for the business, and while he did have some very exceptional skills and was an absolute sweetheart to customers, the rest of his lack of ability crippled the entire facility.  I was, apparently, the bad guy, because this new person couldn’t learn the basics of the software he needed to do his position, not didn’t want to- couldn’t,  and because I didn’t sit with him all day, every day, I was being mean.  I had spoken with this trainee, many times.  I felt bad that he did feel like such a failure and I was helpless to stop that from happening.  But, again, I am mean for wanting the suffering of all involved to end.  No one should feel that way at work and I knew his situation wouldn’t change.  Unfortunately, I do believe this nasty replacement person, who knew me for all of 15 hours, total, has had a negative public impact on my life.  I’m not sure what I should do about that because I have no desire to sink to her level.

On a happier note, I have started an indoor veggie garden.  I have 15 pots of seeds started, two trees, and two new bushes.  My greenhouse project from last summer failed abysmally.  I also learned that I can, indeed, fix a sewing machine.  Said project above was put on hold, and we thought indefinitely, but it turns out, only a couple of hours.  I have 5 quilts that have been on hold for years because I never had the money to fix the machine correctly.  I may… may… at some point, buy a serger, too.  We’ll see.  But at the very least, I can get restarted on a beautiful double wedding ring, once spring chores are done.

Even better news, the city where I live will let me have a beehive.  They laxed on it, because there are enough people who want to do it.  Including my neighbor, whose grandfather taught him beekeeping, the old fashioned way.  Happy dance!  I have my first hive, that I will be putting together this weekend.  Once the land on the top of my hill is cleared out, I will be putting the hive up.  JOY!!!

And, I’ve edited a total of 63 pages out of Willow.  It’s been a painstaking process, but I am so much happier with the results.

It’s been… odd. I’ve been editing Willow for a couple of months now.

1) I can’t believe it’s taking me this long.
2) I can’t believe how bad my writing got while I was “Away From Writing As an Author” and why the hell I thought it was good enough to publish last October.

I’ve reread parts of Beth and Ash. Laughed my butt silly, especially with what’s been going on. Then… Willow. I wanted to turn the Novo series a little more serious, but damn. And long. Twice as long as Beth. I still need to trim 200 pages out. It’s been very slow going. I keep getting sucked into the book, which is good. But not. Very boring in parts. And I know I shouldn’t say that, being you know, the author and having a need to promote, not demote, my books.

Yesterday, I trimmed out 11 pages. Two or three words from sentences at a time. Brain dead by the time I was done.

I’m liking the changes, slow as they’ve been. Much more graphic about life in Taliville. Willow’s life. Coming up with more phrases used in the city. Tying in to both the first four books and the next four. I don’t want to slap Willow silly anymore. Not like I did when I went to publish in November.

I’m liking the change in direction for Ridge Lake. The war zone’s taking shape. I’m setting up for Hawthorne, next book, which is more than half written and very, very graphic. Tightening this novel up, I am rediscovering my sense of humor. Getting back in touch with actively defining. For those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s basically being scrupulously honest with the self. More than “hey, I want chocolate for dinner.”

I love my mother. Period. She and I didn’t agree on many aspects of life. It’s part of my story with Willow. There was a point, before Mom passed, that she began to understand. It did, unfortunately, come too late. I am grateful for the little bit she was able to come, to meet me halfway. That there was a glimmer of understanding that allowed her to accept massive differences in our personalities for the first time. Through all our difficulties, I never stopped loving her. Hated her, at times. But I always understood there were things about me that she could never understand because she hadn’t lived my life. I never walked away from her, not even when I had every reason in the world to do so. Because I love my mother. Period. And that was worth the hurt, anger, disappointment, and grief. By being honest with myself, understanding those decisions I made, it left the door open. When that day finally came, I remember standing in our kitchen, both of us bawling our eyes out, and I finally, finally felt like I had my mother back. It was one of the greatest gifts she ever gave me. It had nothing to do with her cancer. It had nothing to do with her dying, because we both knew her chance of survival was small. It had every thing to do with her love for me and my love for her. Period.

While many of you are having a hard time with what is going on right now, and this is not a snub, many have had to deal with these issues for years. There comes a point where you decide: this is not how I want to live. This is.

Kinda like how you don’t really want to piss off a 60 year old waitress from a 24-7 truck stop. She’s seen it all and has little tolerance for bs, but she’s still, somewhere deep inside, got a heart of gold.

It’s the same message I say every day. Live. Love. Breathe. Decide. Because living your life like you’re waiting to die isn’t living. Going balls out in the last week, sure, you’ve hit your bucket list. Because you know it’s the bucket list. Why not live life that way, before the bucket even has a chance to be seen? Love like you’ve got every dream still left in your heart. Dream as though you are fourteen, not eighty-seven. Tell the people you love that you love. Not from a disease or an ending. As a daily gift of pure energy. Connect. Wear the clothes you want. Go after the knowledge and education and profession you want. Because living like you’re waiting to die isn’t living.

So, today, among all the craziness going on, I had something very, very odd happen today. Someone I met online, not on FB, I had enough in common with, funny wise, to prefer the chat system in FB instead of where we were. This was months ago. I told him what I was about, what I was looking for in meeting/chatting with people, and that my FB page was for my writing/business. I wanted someone to share puns with. He wound up dumping about his life and ex. He did not appreciate the insight I gave, even though he asked for advice.

Today, after MONTHS of not hearing from this person, I get basically, a crank and run message about how we are different people and he didn’t like what I said when he dumped his issues basically in my lap, and wouldn’t buy his game, when I never asked him to do the same and then unfriended.

K. Whatever. I’d like to say just whatever, but that really irritated me.

So confused and I have enough other stuff to worry about. I think we all do. It scares me that this came out of nowhere. I mean, literally, NO WHERE. Weeks of silence and then… WTF?

Tonight, I spent a lovely evening in deep meditation. While that may seem boring to some, my heart is lifted.

I don’t share what I meditate about very often. The details have meaning for me. I know they wouldn’t necessarily make sense to someone else.

I feel a genuine need to help what is going on in our world today. Not to go out and combat the virus, like I have a shield and sword. I’m not a doctor, either.

What I can do is hope that this will change lives for the betterment of all mankind, worldkind, actually. It probably won’t. I write apocalyptic, so… yeah. Probably not. And this isn’t a plug for my books or games. I do know that it will change the lives for some.

It will make some people more selfish. It will make some people more aware of their surroundings. It will make some people connect in more loving ways to those oh so important connections.  It will make some people get divorced.  Others, married.

One of the questions I always ask with these things, whether its disease for many or cancer for one, check please, is: Is this the life you want to end your days with? How you’ve been living?

I don’t mean money or riches.

I mean everything else.

Is it that crucial that you put pressure on your co-workers or employees to perform above threshhold? Are you doing the same tasks, repeatedly, and getting no where? Are all the metrix running and compiling really that important to actually managing your business, or is it simply habit reinforcing reaction, instead of keeping an eye out for day-to-day as well as new opportunity? Do you even know how much time and effort you are wasting doing all that extra? If you throttle back, just a scooch, would your employees be happier and in return, give your customers a better experience? Would you keep employees longer? Is there more room for personalities to find an evening point, instead of a breaking point?

That may sound preachy. Shrugs. In some ways, it is. In others, not. I don’t mean lower expectations. I actually mean change and raise them.

Here’s another one.

Do you love someone but really can’t stand them? Are you spending your days biting your tongue? Is it better for you both to get distance? To allow each party to be who they are, because neither is going to change, and stop fighting and bickering? Is it more disloyal, if you do love that person, actually love them and want the best for them, to stay and beat each other’s brains with words of hurt and humiliation?

Is it that important that people remain silent? (Don’t get ahead of me here.) I found there are some personality types I don’t get along well with. Mostly those who are arrogant instead of self-confident. The other main: those who are full of denial of others. The two in combination are enough to make my head fly off. One of my current co-workers is body-loud. He drives me insane. Constant movement, mouth-clicking, sighing, tapping pencils and feet, and generally getting underfoot because I have to use his workstation to complete my work for the day due to the software on it. It doesn’t mean I am there to train him. I can deal with this personality type on a short term basis. Not long term. I find myself wanting to shout. He has been rather rude to me on more than one occasion. Patience and politeness count a lot with me. Some wouldn’t see that or agree with that statement. It’s the kind of patience and the kind of politeness I am talking about. There’s more than one of each.

If I had to work with this person long term, I would have to have a frank conversation with him, and our boss, and find some sort of solution. Because I can’t work in that environment and I am just as important. It’s not that I want to hurt anyone. For now, I deliberately wear headphones and listen to music that basically drowns him out. I changed my focus onto something more pleasant.  A simple conversation would, hopefully, make his life easier, as well as my own.  Because he is bored and doesn’t have enough to hold his attention.  It isn’t really my place to find him something to do.  I may have to start that, soon, even with the short term.  He doesn’t realize how rude he is being, by distracting me from being able to do the very things that buy him time for retraining, or the comments he makes that his wife is a very naggy person.  Is it really important to focus on that?  No.  Not for “end of days.”  But it is for day-to-day.  Because I am making mistakes at work because of it and I need to improve.

I’m reminded that there were days I was forced to sit in silence, smile benignly, bored out of my skull, just to be “polite” and respectful. It’s the wrong kind of polite. How is that respectful? It certainly isn’t to me. And, in a lot of ways, rather rude to the other person.

Do you scream at your teenager to get him to do chores for you? Or force him or her to come to the living area because your friend happen to drop by and dance attendance on you both?  Why is it so important that he or she is dragged out of their day, other than a quick hi, for your sake.  And, if he did that, instead of getting homework done, you’d probably be pissed.

If your spouse did that to you, when you had an afternoon of plans, maybe not fully set in stone, or your boss forced you to cancel dinner, how would you feel? Respected? Cherished? Cared about?

Is that really how you want to be living?

I had a conversation recently, one I’ve mentioned in this blog, that I finally do have a comfort zone. I was told to get out of it. Because of how I choose to live my life and how that person, while important to me, is struggling with trying to fit what he’s been told to want in with who he is. Those two things don’t fit nicely together.  I don’t see what’s wrong with having a comfort zone if it makes life better?  I don’t mean hiding out somewhere in fear or being stubborn about not leaving the house, ever.  I mean, being happy and comfortable, where you are.  I’m not robbing a liquor store.  I’m not playing beat ’em up with a street full of mailboxes.  It may be boring, but the stuff surrounding this virus?  Shrugs.  That’s part of what I study.  Herbalism.  How to take care of myself.  How to do some pretty neat things with basic chemistry, and I don’t mean making meth or extacy in my basement.

That if I wasn’t allergic to wool, wearing a wool sweater would help keep me healthier because it’s got natural antimicrobials.  How cool is that?  It may be boring to some, but hey, I have been looking into other yarns for my sweaters just on that fact alone.  And if you think that doesn’t mean much, you go ask a fashion-ficionado their opinion on Merino wool versus angora or cashmere.  I may not be a girly-girl or a shop-a-holic but I can get into some sweater factoids that might just change my mind on which skein of yarn I pick up next.  And that may make some of the local businesses around here happy.  Economy, chemistry, health.  All from a sweater.  You may not find that all that and a bag of chips, but I’m of the mind that’s pretty damn cool.  Or, er, warm.  So to speak.  All from taking control of my life.  And I get a funky, personal sweater out of that, too.  How many of you out there are some sort of yarn-crafter?  Oh, just maybe one or two.

With all the fear going on right now, the best thing I can say is to take control and re-create your comfort zone. Find out what makes you happy. If you can’t be happy, what makes you happier? You can’t control the chaos. Nor should you try. You can only control yourself, and sometimes, not even then.

We live in a world where Paris was bombed and set on fire. NYC and 9/11. A war in the middle east that seems to go on forever. H1N1.  All the shootings in our schools and churches and mosques and synagogues.  Economic depression like the 29 stock market crash and the 1930’s afterwards.

For those of us old enough to remember the 60’s or stories about the 60’s, we don’t have folk music like that anymore. We have music about 9/11. I see there is a generation out there, now, no longer willing to tolerate bullying behavior.

Our world is changing.

Don’t you think it’s worth learning the lesson we in the U.S. learned on 9/11, about the phone calls from the people on the planes, to give voice to love? To choose to call the people closest to us? To educate ourselves on how we affect others? To know what it’s like to be isolated and how to continue to reach out? We still have our phones, our email, skype, and if we are very careful, we can go back to writing hard letters.

It’s enough to control our own fears, not let them get the better of us, and just reach out and say to the person next to us: you are not alone. It doesn’t have to be any more complicated than that.

To take this time where we need to be more conscious of all, possibly be alone for a while, and get to know ourselves again? To appreciate what is around us, people, laughter, stories, our pets and gardens. To know there was history before us that survived these things. Not everyone did. We, as a people, have learned from that history. We can tap into that knowledge, from handwashing to taking probiotics to improve our immune systems to how we treat others.

I take comfort that I can still meditate. That I am growing and healing beyond yesterday. That, even with such a pandemic going on, I am still on course with my own heart and the journey I need to be on.  That I am aware of current day and it is neither more or less important than the other aspects of my life. That I can feel peace. That I am not willing to be hurt and forced into the life I used to live, not by anyone, no matter what they mean to me. That I can look up into the sky and find beauty. That I can use the pain of my youth to get me through this current health concern we all share, and leave supplies I can live without to those who can’t. That I am listening to the same songs that lift my heart into joy.

Bless you all.  May you find peace and a quiet space to launch into a better tomorrow.