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 |   Second blog -- answers to an ocean of prompts |
 "Failure is unimportant. It takes courage to make a fool of yourself." CHARLIE CHAPLIN  Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet confinement of your aloneness to learn anything or anyone that does not bring you alive is too small for you. David Whyte        This is my supplementary blog in which I will post entries written for prompts. |
| Prompt: Have fun with these words in your entry: settle, continental, try, slam, level, nest, and day.  Celebration (For my 23rd on WdC) Today, my heart *settles in a *continental and worldwide embrace because WdC did stand tests of time and place. I *try to recall moments, big and small, and how for each stick in this *nest, I gave my all. The years did *slam like waves upon our shore; yet, we writers rose to a *level, much deeper than before. In this site of friendship where dreams and hopes play, Happy 23rd to me, on this special June *day. |
| Prompt: “It is easy to forget now, how effervescent and free we all felt that summer when we were young.” -Anna Godbersen Let this quote inspire your entry. ------- Good for Anna Godbersen, but a generalization of her feelings for summers and youth may be a bit overdoing it; although youth and summers could be linked joyously for most, it wouldn't apply to all. Still, memory always fools people. Even for those of us who didn't have the best summers, when we think back to our youth, our memories may take on a golden hue, tinged with nostalgia and wishful thinking. I'm quite sure that we, in fact, are remembering the reaction of our youthful, stress-and-disease-free bodies more so than our actual summers of teens and twenties. Therefore, ideally speaking or rather thinking back, every sunset becomes a promise of new adventures and every sunrise a reminder that this wide world is waiting for us, the young, to be explored. Some of us are taken by the magic of a starlit sky or the surf at sea while others like me preferred to get lost in the pages of a book. Maybe, due to the inexperience and innocence of youth there existed--inside ourselves--a lightness, a somewhat tangible wish for feeling joy. On the other hand, maybe not. Not for me anyway and not always, as not only was I an only child but also I was a lonely child. My happiness depended on other children like me. That was why, regardless of the season, occasion, or time, I felt the happiest when my cousins visited. Then, leave it to me to question anything including my own youth.  Between youth and summers, however, one thing is in common. They are both fleeting moments and so short. Maybe in our selective memories, such moments, like cherished snapshots, remind us of the importance of time and spontaneity and finding happiness and joy in those tiny sections of our lives. |
| Prompt: "We are never alone. We are all wolves howling at the same moon." Attica Write about this quote in your Blog entry today. ------- Here comes the moon! Our earth has one moon and we all end up watching it, some of us believing we are being so romantic with the moon idea. Yet, the moon is a symbol for so many things, starting with cycles, change, and the passage of time. All that points to our shared human condition and across the world and across centuries and centuries of time. Then, recognizing that we are all "howling at the same moon" points to empathy, which reduces feelings of isolation, especially for some of us lonely people. The idea that we're never alone also highlights our inherent connections, as we all go through similar experiences and feel similar emotions. This interconnectedness implies a collective consciousness or community where everyone, despite their differences, is united by certain basic aspects of life. In short, just as wolves are united in their howling at the moon, we humans can also find common ground in shared experiences and answers to existential questions. Since, being an oldie, I didn't know this song, I had to search for its lyrics to get the meaning, more or less. I guess it is only fair that I include them here, and also because I wasn't sure what phantogram was, I looked that up, too. Well, who knew! Here goes the lyrics, but first the phantagram From Wikipedia: Phantogram (optical illusion): Phantograms, also known as Phantaglyphs, Op-Ups, free-standing anaglyphs, levitated images, and book anaglyphs, are a form of optical illusion. I could run the show, cut the inventory too Howling at the moon Howling at the moon I could fire 45s all day into the sun And say goodbye Not the shooting stars Not the crashing cars Not the future past Was made to last I didn't know I didn't know I didn't- [Chorus] At night I cry and howl at the moon At night I cry and howl at the moon Say goodbye for now Never say it again All the stars at night Won’t save my friend Howl at the moon Howl at the moon Howl at the- See Phantogram Live Get tickets as low as $53 You might also like Bad Dreams Phantogram The Day You Died Phantogram Black Out Days Phantogram [Chorus] At night I cry and howl at the moon At night I cry and howl at the moon And if I ever fall asleep I’ll turn it around and face the scene Yeah, I will crucify my dreams to be on your side To see you alive To see you alive To see you alive [Chorus] At night I cry and howl at the moon At night I cry and howl at the moon And if I ever fall asleep I'll turn it around and face the scene Yeah, I will crucify my dreams to be on your side To see you alive To see you alive To see you alive |
| Prompt: What popular books are out right now that you have no intention of reading? ------- I just choose my reading from among the books I want to read. I don't go with what's popular in any area, in the first place. This is because, recently, what's popular in books usually ends up being low-grade. This is true for me especially for the reason that, during the last decade or so and with the addition of Covid that shut people in their homes, lots of new publications have surfaced. Some may be very good, literary, or useful; however, I'm now very careful with how I spend my hours. On the other hand, I'll read a WdC writer's new book anytime, due to my dedication to the site. Coming back to the issue of too many books on the market, I always think some of those are possibly very good, but I can't even trust the reviews posted on the bookseller websites anymore. And I have myself stopped posting such reviews when I found out that scammers can and do use them to get information on the reviewer. That and other problems with the publishers have added to any reader's nightmares. Most publishers today throw a whole lot of books into the market and watch what sticks, instead of being vigilant of the quality of the books they publish. Then, I understand the publishers' dilemmas, also. Due to the amount of submitted material, they are inundated and cannot possibly give enough attention to all the books submitted, let alone help the upcoming new writers with their craft. Also, even the better books lose their favor with the publishers after their first publication. For example, yesterday, after sending in a John Geddes quote as a prompt, I wanted to buy the book it was from and read the whole thing, but the book is off the market. I can only buy it in e-bay or Amazon's used books for about $45, which I stay away from. For many serious readers, these types of practices by the publishers and their industry in general don't work well as they depend on algorithms and very little human (literary expert) intervention. Simply increasing output for gain without offering quality is not a healthy sign for any industry, I think. |
| Prompt: Rain and Storms “...I don't just wish you rain, Beloved - I wish you the beauty of storms...” John Geddes, A Familiar Rain What do you think/feel about the storms or the rain? Would you wish them on anyone or yourself? ========= First about the quote, which claims a layered sentiment and depth of meaning. This author, or rather his protagonist, wishes for the one he loves, not only the experiences or difficulties (symbolized by rain), but also, the intense experiences (symbolized by the storm.} As an aside, I'm so glad that the people who loved me didn't wish such stuff on me. Back to the storm, there is something deeply transformative and enriching about going through extreme hardships, if you can believe that one! But then, this quote might only be about accepting and embracing all experiences in life, the most or the least challenging ones. In my old age, I feel I have been challenged just as much as I can handle. So, thank you very much, John Geddes, I'll remember to forward anything too challenging to you from now on.  As to the questions derived from the quote, "No thank you." I don't wish them on myself or anyone else. The other question about the rain and storms, I guess, they have some deep psychological meanings. Leave it to this author to read into the events of nature! Still, I can't help but think about all this, either. Rain, often, is a symbol of emotional release, likened to tears, to wash away sorrow, grief and troubles. It, then, creates an aura or feelings of sadness, melancholy, foreboding while bringing a sense of calmness. As the result, it also means growth and transformation, new opportunities, or renewal and rebirth. For some it may mean hope. For me, it means I won't have to water the lawn or the flower beds. As to the storms, as destructive as they are, they may represent an upheaval and change. I should know as I live in a hurricane zone, which to me. they mean something similar to actual battles in a war zone. If you wish, you can call them cathartic. I call them the wrath of God. Then, both the rain and the storms may have dual meanings, hinting at the complexity of our fancy human emotions and complicated experiences, which we ourselves tend to complicate them even more. Well, I tried to hint at the symbolic meanings, but after all, rain is rain and storms are storms, especially when you ask the weather people on the news who can never get the weather predictions close enough to the actual weather events. |
| Prompt: Decisiveness or indecision "If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice." From Rush's lyrics Do you decide too easily, or otherwise, what may be the cost of indecision? ========== I do decide quite fast, but outcome isn't always perfect, and at times, that decision could be the wrong choice. Still, I truly dislike it when something undecided hangs over my head. So, I accept the consequences. I mean who can always find the time and ability in herself to assess situations, weigh options, and arrive at conclusions perfectly! Decisiveness requires clarity of thought and judgment, confidence, responsibility, resilience, and timeliness. I applaud anyone who can come up with all those assets in time, all the time. Is this always possible? Probably not. Still, decisiveness is efficient, solves problems easily enough, and doesn't miss opportunities. Indecision, on the other hand, may mean lack of information, overthinking, and fear of making mistakes. Then, there's such a thing as analysis paralysis, which results from examining every detail until inaction sets in. People who cannot decide very easily are usually dependent on other people as they procrastinate and, let alone getting things done in a timely fashion, they also miss the opportunities; not to mention the stress and anxiety they feel with their reduced productivity and the loss of trust of the people around them. Maybe those who cannot decide at all or are late deciders should step back and think again, since deciding effectively means having clear goals, enough information, limiting the options as too many choices can be confusing, and setting time limits for themselves. Can anyone or I come up with those assets in ourselves all the time? Maybe not. But at least, those of us who decide too easily may avoid stress and headache at the moment. |
| Prompt: Olympic Trials are happening in Eugene Oregon for the Olympics in Paris. Are you going to watch the Olympics? If so do you have favorite sports? Alternate prompt: July is almost upon us, do you have any activities planned or contests you want to participate in? ------ I doubt I'll watch the Olympics fully. I might take a peek now and then for the sake of seeing Paris once more, though. My husband (RIP) loved the Olympics, especially the races, because he was a long distance runner and had earned some minor awards. Olympics was on his horizon, but while in his early teens, the Olympic Games of 1944 was canceled due to World War II and after that, he lost the will to compete; however, he ran anyway, locally, with his buddies. Because of all that, I used to watch the Olympics with him. I don't have any favorite sports. I used to watch basketball, Knicks specifically once upon a time, and soccer, again with my husband. During the time I was young enough to play tennis, I watched those competitions, also. Right now, I am into the sport of walking without falling or stumbling, and there's no such game in the Olympics, except maybe for that weird fast-walking; therefore, that too, is out for me. As to the second prompt, I so appreciate the activities and contests on our WdC site and I wholeheartedly applaud those who run them. Such activities and contests bring excitement to the site and encourage people to write more with the incentive of taking part in the activities and contests. Personally speaking, as to the contests, I never liked to run them, although at times, I did. This is only because I've never liked to choose any one piece over the others, since in each piece I read, I appreciated the work and toil of a writer. For me, better than contests are the truthful, helpful, and heartfelt reviews by the WdC members who send those to one another. In such reviews, I see the reviewer's authenticity and good will, and that makes me feel very happy and proud that I got to be a part of a site with such serious and wonderful writers. Reviewing well, with or without a group, deserves a huge applause; however, without using the same cliche review in all one's reviews since each piece merits its own unique appreciation by the reader. |
| Prompt: Have fun with this prompt: On your birthday, you miraculously survive a deadly car crash without a scratch. Later that week, you watch a small scratch heal and disappear right before your eyes. Where did this new power come from and what will you do with it? =========== Reader beware: This is a short story, only in imagination. I have no such powers. Powers Oh, my God! All this began happening on my birthday, believe it or not! So, what I am going to tell you I take it as my birthday gift from powers that be. Here it goes: I blinked, trying to make sense of the world around me. One moment, I had been driving home, singing along to the radio, and the next, I was upside down, hanging by my seatbelt in a mangled car. The airbag had deployed, the dashboard was a crumpled mess, and shards of glass glittered around me like malicious confetti. Slowly, I unbuckled my seatbelt, landing awkwardly on the car's roof. I crawled out through the shattered window, expecting pain to surge through my body, but there was nothing. Not a single scratch or bruise marred my skin. I stood up, shaking, and saw people running towards me, their faces a mix of horror and relief. "Are you alright?" a man yelled, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Yeah," I replied, my voice trembling. "I think so." Paramedics arrived and insisted on checking me over, finding nothing wrong. So they made me go to the hospital with them for a thorough check up. Guess what? Nothing was wrong. I was a miracle, the doctors and nurses said. A freak accident survivor without a mark. I didn't feel like a miracle. I felt numb and confused. The days that followed were surreal. Friends and family hovered, their concern was obvious. My son kept fussing, convinced I was in shock and it would all hit me later. But I felt fine. Better than fine, actually. I felt... invincible. Three days after the crash, I was at home, trying to get back to normal. I was making dinner when I accidentally nicked my finger with a knife. I winced, expecting blood, but what I saw stopped me cold. The cut was shallow, but as I watched, the skin knitted itself back together, the wound vanishing in seconds. I stared at my finger, then at the knife, then back at my finger. Did that just happen? I cut myself again, just a small slice, and watched in stunned silence as it healed before my eyes. I dropped the knife, my heart pounding. Was this some delayed reaction to the crash? A hallucination? I ran to the bathroom, searching for any other injuries I might have missed. Nothing. Not a single blemish or scar. Over the next few days, I tested it repeatedly. Cuts, bruises, even a burn from the stove—all healed in moments. I was invincible. The realization was intoxicating and terrifying. I had survived a crash without a scratch and now, my body could heal itself instantly. I didn't tell anyone. How could I? "Hey, Son, guess what? I'm like Wolverine now!" No, I kept it to myself, grappling with this new reality alone. But with this power came a sense of dread. Why had this happened to me? What was I supposed to do with this? One afternoon, as I sat on my La-Z-Boy, staring at the healed scratch on my finger, a thought struck me. Maybe this wasn't just about survival. Maybe I was given this gift for a reason. To help others, to save lives. But first, I needed to understand it. To control it. I took a deep breath, the weight of this new responsibility settling over me. Whatever this power was, it had chosen me. And I would not waste it. So I picked up the phone and dialed. "Could you tell me where I can volunteer to be a rescue worker, like a fireman or a paramedic?" |
| Prompt: "Today is the first day of the rest of your life." Write about this in your Blog entry today. ----- Isn't it obvious? Today is logically the first day of the rest of anybody's life. Numerically speaking, that is. On the other hand, if you really read into it, there is more to this maxim that sounds like a truism. I believe it first points to the potential each new day holds. It also offers hope and positivity, reassuring us that, no matter if we had a number of difficult yesterdays, today is a chance to start anew. From this angle, this saying may be a comfort during tough times. In addition, the idea of a fresh starts means a growth mindset. That is, our abilities and intelligence can still be developed further with hard work and dedication. To put it another way, resilience and further improvement. Decades ago, when my younger son came home from the first day of his kindergarten class, he announced, "I've learned enough. I don't need to go tomorrow." We weren't about to let him quit no matter what. So we told him he had to go because it was the law. It seems that this specific kindergarten teacher was a toughie and she believed in discipline from the first day. Later on, when I made friends with her and even helped her in class from time to time, my son changed his mind. He more than tolerated the teacher. He liked her. I guess I could have gone to the principal right away and changed his class to a different teacher. It might have worked or not. But this experience taught both my son and me to change our perspectives and work with what's at hand. To this day, he is resilient, possibly more so than I am. It may just be that, at a very young age, he found out that letting go of the unchangeable past and making the best of the present worked better. So, today always offers a fresh start. And I hope all our todays and new starts turn out to be fresh, wholesome, successful, and positive. |
| Prompt: A male friend wrote in my annual: If a book was written about my life, you would be the best sentence. Write about this in your Blog entry today. ---------- What a nice compliment! Truthfully, I wouldn't know what to say about that, Megan    . It is about you and your friend. On the other hand, maybe I can somewhat artlessly comment on what he said the way I understand it. Here it goes:Poetic and profound, these words beautifully state that amid all the complexities, events, and stories that make up this person's life, you stand out as the most remarkable and cherished part. Also, it means to say that a particular moment or presence with you surpasses all others in importance. It shows that you have brought an extraordinary value and joy to his life. Above all, this compliment goes beyond simple flattery, suggesting a deep emotional connection and appreciation of you. It may mean that you are a highlight who marked him with a profound influence. |
| Prompt: "The muse always has wings and nests in fire?" From the Wonderbook by Jeff Vandermeer What is your take on this quote and do you trust, distrust, and/or fear your muse, i.e your imagination? --------- Did your thoughts and imagination ever surprise and shock you by going from one end to the opposite of an idea? That is certainly the work of our trickster muses. I think this is what the quote is trying to tell us. What our muses do to our thinking and planning of a writing or art work is awesome, as it can be both liberating and demanding. Liberating and demanding, yes, for this can inspire the writer or the artist to reach new heights, engage with the deepest passion and deal with the dangers and challenges of the creative process. Creative process needs freedom and the ability to soar over the mundane limits of tried-and-true anything. This type of inspiration or "wings" can pop up from anywhere and carry the writer to the hilltops of imagination and creativity. Yet, at the same time, it is elusive and fleeting, never staying in one place too long. This kind of inspiration comes in bursts, especially for me, and before I can grasp it or jot the idea down, it flies away. In this way, it is difficult to capture and hold onto. Then, sometimes, a burning desire takes hold when an intense emotion strikes. That intense emotion is the fire that drives most writers, poets, and artists to produce their fantastic, original, and possibly best works. However, just as fire can bring new life and purify, it can also destroy. This duality is the creative process that burns off old ideas to make room for new, innovative ones. This, therefore, needs a nest to nurture and grow the new seedlings or baby ideas. And that nest is the art of the artist and the pen of the writer and poet. Muse is the one who brings the new life into that nest. Now, do I fear and distrust or love my muse? Both. For in either case, my muse is nutty and fun to watch, and I hope I may be able to, at least, appreciate his offerings. |
| Prompt: Fathers “If there is any immortality to be had among us human beings, it is certainly only in the love that we leave behind. Fathers like mine don’t ever die.” Leo Buscaglia What role has time played in your assessment of fathers and fatherhood? ========== Well, not everyone's relationship can be as fortunate as that of Leo Buscaglia's with his father, for each good relationship goes both ways. When I was born, the second World War was going on and my father was doing work for the forces and wasn't there. I didn't get to see or know him much until later, when I was six, which by that time, he and my mother had separated. He died a few months after I had spent a short time with him, about one and a half months. Then, partly through my mother's influence, I thought the worst of him as I grew up. In hindsight, however, I don't blame him for anything. He was doing his best with what life had thrown at him. For most other people, when they are young, their dads seem larger than life. They fix everything and they always know the answers. They act as a wall of strength and a shelter from harm. Yet, this appreciation may not last very long. When I was a teenager, I saw in my friends how their younger positive views of their fathers were beginning to shift. Suddenly, their dads turned clueless in their opinion. So the teenagers began to push boundaries with them. This is normal because as stormy as the teenage years are, they are the best years for people to figure things out for themselves. Except for few who get stuck in their teenage years, most overcome this phase and begin seeing their fathers as they really are. And if they are lucky and their fathers are still around, these sons and daughters can be friends with their dads. Becoming friends with one's own father is a good place to be, where one can talk openly with him, and laugh or cry with him, and support and be supported by him through the ups and downs of life. Surely, everyone's life journey is different, and for some, a positive relationship with a father can be difficult if not impossible. Then, fathers themselves are a complex mix of strength and vulnerability, wisdom and mistakes. Sons and daughters need understand that their fathers are people, too, as they see the lines on their fathers' faces and the gray in their hair. So they can realize, being human, fathers, too, are figuring things out as they go along, like the rest of us. Where the idea of fathers are concerned, we all need to keep in mind that the most important thing is the one constant through it all: the deep love of a father for his child. |
| Have fun with these words: temperament, determination, sensation, fleeting, energetic, Saturday, and beyond. ---* this *Saturday, the world is *fleeting away so I chase a *sensation *beyond my reach with *determination flimsy, *temperament flaccid, yet, if I can be candid, within each breath, a spark of will endures still, *energetic and seeking pure elation making me pick my pen to write a letter to myself -- to stop the world from fleeting, this Saturday |
| Let this quote inspire your writing today: "If you're not barefoot, then you're overdressed." –Unknown ========= I guess the approach to life of this quote has to do with informal and often playful way of expressing a laid-back, relaxed, and minimalist way of being. In my case, as much as I value simplicity and comfort, I was never a minimalist and neither will I be. Plus, I don't like being barefoot except for swimming and in the shower. I assume, whoever said it, meant--by barefoot--a natural way of being and attending more to comfort and casual dresses. Especially at my age, I do agree with that wholeheartedly. Then, even if I'm not a minimalist and think of people who advocate minimalism as fakes or misinformed ones, I don't like clutter either. Clutter refers to items that are strewn about in a disorganized fashion. Things we now use and those we may have a use for in the future are not clutter. Remember the time during the onset of Covid, when we had a toilet tissue shortage in my area? Well, I ended up supplying friends and family from my stash, particularly those who beat their drums to minimalism. Life can be more relaxed, authentic and aligned with our true needs and wishes, but without going barefoot and getting stubbed toes and being bit by the insects and snakes on our bare feet. This is true especially because we have armies of those creatures where I live. |
| Prompt: If you could dream any dream you wanted tonight, what would it be about? Write about this in your Blog entry today. ------ Any night dream I wanted? I think I'll pass. "I will not in grey hours revoke The gift I gave in hours of light" Just two lines from an unpublished Yeats poem, which says just about what I feel where night dreams are concerned. In my case, it isn't the dreams themselves, but the waking up from them that turns me off. I was never a good candidate for getting shortchanged with unreality. Also, let's face it, night dreams are often a blend of absurdity and wonder. Their illogical structures, bizarre characters, and situations aside, they also distort my reality, or rather the way I view it. This means they add some kind of an emotional inconsistency to my already mixed-up old mind. Then, of course, there's that problem of their unresolved plots that make me wonder through the waking hours if or when I recall them. Once upon a time, I had dreams with recurring themes that made me wonder why I did dream the same stuff cooked or boiled one way or another. Luckily, whatever they indicated, I must have overcome their symbolic nonsense. Having said all that, I did have some dreams that came true, which scared me. One such dream was about a much younger pregnant cousin who lived thousands of miles away. In a night dream, she came to me and said, "I have to go now. But I couldn't leave before saying good-bye to you." The next day, someone in the family called me to say that she had died during the night due to eclampsia while giving birth. Her child is in his late thirties now. Then, I had other dreams that came to be true that also scare me, to this day. Not all of them had to do with death, but still, that they came true has been something to be wary about. But such dreams are rare and usually there are months or years in between their appearances. Maybe, it is a better idea to embrace the foolishness of night dreams and let them drown in their own humor and whimsy, but I am not now or ever wishing for or ordering any night dreams. Unfortunately, they have a mind of their own and they show up unannounced to bug me at night. |
| Prompt: Write a poem that reflects on the beauty of everyday moments. ============ Moments to daybreak's peace, I wake up surprised to be alive still and will for a cup, brewed tea that is to revive me in its mist, and fill me with warmth, for in the plan, in a well-worn pan, breakfast sizzles then, I make the bed for a start and feed the cat, an old fart, like me and our ticking clock hurries its stride in a flowing tide, dancing through time with stories to tell, books to read things to do, until the dusk sheds its hue to her soft spoken meows, I dim the light and we sign in for a quiet night |
| Prompt: Childhood Joys Do you think childhood is the most enjoyable time of life or are we reading too much into it? What joys do you remember from your own childhood? ------ Not really, I don't think all childhoods can be the most enjoyable time, although some might be. For the simple reason that we're fish out of water in childhood. There's a lot to learn and a lot to mess up. Because human memory is so faulty that we tend to reflect onto childhood our best hopes and intentions. Then, of course, we don't have a say in most things including our own life and wants and needs and wishes. That is, if we didn't get a good set of parents who made us feel good about ourselves. In my case, I was an only child, but added to being only, I was also lonely. My father was away in Switzerland during the war years and the first time I recall seeing him was when I was six. He died in an accident a few months later, but I had a great extended family and my uncles took over the fathering business, the best they could do. Also, I had a very strict mother who meant well, and I now believe in hindsight, she loved me too much. I think, for any childhood to be happy enough, a good set of parents are needed. Some children are lucky with parents. Some aren't. Others don't even have any parents. So, yes, I truly believe we're reading too much into the happy childhood myth, in general. My childhood is so far away, but I still recall my grandmother's loving care and her trying to tame my mother's strictness. Then, of course, my best times were those that I spent with my cousins, who on my grandmother's insistence, used to stay with us for days at a time, especially when school wasn't in session. I love my cousins and our camaraderie to this day. My cousins and I did things together that were fun and sometimes full of mischief. Then, later during the teen years, one of them became my best friend. She still is, and although we're far away from each other, we keep in touch through the media. I consider myself very lucky with the entire family that I was a part of. Still, I see childhood as the goofy, dopey, foolish time of life, even though while we live through it, we are not aware of our own greenness and inexperience. |
| Prompt: "I sat with my anger long enough until she told me her real name was grief." C.S. Lewis Can anger really mask grief or is it just a stage of it? What do you think? ------ A few decades ago when a presidential candidate lost the election to his opponent, he said angrily, "You will not find (his own name) to kick around anymore." My late husband who was a psychiatrist knew immediately. "It was his grief speaking wearing the cloak of anger," he said. So true! We find such angry outbursts all over the place and each time, I try to see the grief under those outbursts. In general, when we feel angry, it is a good idea to identify the grief underlying that anger. It is the first step toward healing. Anger then, depending on the cause of grief, is not easy to predict. This search for what underlies the anger can be messy and imperfect, but it opens the way to self-discovery and self-compassion. Anger may be able to cover up for grief but it does not define a person for we are the sum of our emotions, including the pain of grief. At the surface, even if anger may appear fierce and tough, inside it lies a deeper, more complex truth. Especially with loss. Anger often masks the deep pain of loss, as grief. Most of the time, loss or grief needs a shield, for it may be too deep to handle for the moment. Anger thus becomes that shield against that vulnerability and pain. As an example for anger being a shield for grief, I grew up during the time when teachers didn't hesitate to to administer some kind of a corporal punishment. Especially one grade-school teacher used to give in to her sudden anger. All kids feared and hated her. Now, decades later, looking back, I can see that it was her grief at her own incompetence in being a good teacher. Also because, in hindsight, it may have been her grief of not being able to conceive a child, thus her anger at other people's children. I have all the reason to believe that she wanted to be what she could not be. I believe that because she even asked my mother, at a parent-teacher conference, for tips because she liked it that I did my homework diligently and behaved in class. My mother felt so bad for her at that time and after that, so did I, although her outbursts in class scared every student and friend I had. Grief is relentless and does not follow a timeline or anything predictable. It can ambush a person when least expected, making that person overwhelmed and powerless. Thus, steps in anger as a lifeline, acting as a temporary relief. Unfortunately, it can drive a wedge between us and those we love. Maybe next time, then, when we feel angry, it could be a good idea to dig in and find out what other insidious thing lies beneath that anger to cause it to jump up so suddenly. |
| Prompt: Use these words in your entry: bathtub, fill, customer, dictate, axis, essay, and dribble. ---------- the *bathtub beckons me as waters *fill while drops *dribble in a tranquil thrill but let me *dictate an *axis of peace I, the *customer, wish this wait to cease so bubbles can pen a gentle *essay with problems solved, and the world fades away |
| Prompt: Let one of these quotes inspire your quote: “Summer bachelors like summer breezes, are never as cool as they pretend to be.” ― Nora Ephron or "Summer means happy times and good sunshine. It means going to the beach, going to Disneyland, having fun." — Brian Wilson ====== Summer bachelors? Well, the only summer bachelor I met--in the summer of 1965--I stayed married to until death did us part. I still think he was the coolest ever. So there! As to summer meaning happy times, yes, that is true for most parts of the world. Where I live summer means getting fried by the sun and being served dry without the sides either. This means avoiding the sun or the beach even under an umbrella since an umbrella doesn't prevent a sunburn here. But this is my old disquieted self speaking. If I were to go back to my younger self, however... I do remember many a summer fun of yore. Yore for me, because then, it was a different location. Long Island, NY to be exact. Spending a summer at the beach on Long Island, NY, is a delightful blend of natural beauty, fun activities, and cultural stuff. One can surf the waves in Montauk--not that I ever did but I did watch the other surfers--and enjoy the beaches on Fire Island and the Jones beach as well as the smaller beaches of the shores up north, and browse the local farmers' markets and art shows, and delight in the music festivals. I did try my hand at beach volleyball a bit, then, and played frisbee with my kids, then topped that off with a vibrant nightlife at the beachside bars that served fresh seafood. My husband went fishing with a friend of his a couple of times, but he found out that fishing wasn't for him. He said he didn't like to see the fish in pain, trying to stay alive at the hook. Other than that, he loved the Long Island summers, too, for we both enjoyed the warm ocean breezes and our long walks on the boardwalks on some of the beaches. So, for me, where summer is concerned, "Those were the days"...and we "thought they'd never end," as the song says. |
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