Category: struggle

Music soothes the mad poet… 

*image found on Google and only used for inspiration. 

            Recently I read a blog done about music and the effect it had on the life of the blogs writer.  It got me thinking.  So often life for me has revolved around the music.  The sounds of life have always been a rich and full part of who I am. I remember my Dad’s deep baritone singing “Amazing Grace” to me as a child. I remember going to see my great grandfather at his radio station and being enamored by it all.  I loved the poetry in the songs,  how it felt like your soul was understood by the person singing. 

          Grandma Ethel,  my Mom’s mom,  used to sit and listen to stories from her youth and she would share those with me.  Radio shows from another era.  She taught me to enjoy classical music,  how to close my eyes and visualize the music. 

         Music for my mom was such a rigid thing.  If it was not country,  she would not listen to it. And as a child,  in her house I was not supposed to listen to anything else either.  But daddy had records of all manner of song.  Stray cats,  and soft rock like it.  She would eventually learn to bend,  she grew to enjoy some bubble gum rock along with the country.  

                      I still remember the first time I heard real rock. My soon to be step brother had a cassette tape of Dr Feelgood.  I was eleven.  It felt wild and I was hooked.  I still enjoy country,  but I am eclectic in my music tastes. 

                Mind you I am skipping over bits of music and memory. I am trying not to ramble here.  The next influence was my first day of high school.  I was six weeks late because I had a child at fourteen.  I was scared to death of what high school would be. My elder step brother was dating this chick,  and man I looked up to her.  She was confident and sexy and badass. All of the things I knew I would never be.  Well she met me at the cafeteria doors holding a boom box.  It was blasting so loudly that the windows in the building were rattling.  Pink Floyd;  Another Brick in the wall part 3…Aka We Don’t Need No Education.  I can’t tell you how much better I felt about high school.  It was not that school was actually any better.  In truth it was a nightmare.  I just suddenly felt braver,  more secure.  

       Looking back,  every person who was ever a intimate in my life has a song.  My playlist is often a minefield of memories.  Some of which I have not even explained to my boyfriend of over twenty one years. Not because of anything other than the fact that I am done with the one who was once attached to the memory. 

        I may have been a singer and put my love of music to use,  except for the fact that I am unfortunately tone deaf.  I was not gifted with the beautiful singing voice that I would have loved.  It has not stopped me, i sang to my daughter.  I refused to deny her that bond,  both with me and with music. She still will ask for her lullabies when she is feeling bad. 

I sang four main ones to her.  “Hush little baby “,”the greatest love of all “(slightly mangled as i forget one verse), “rockabye baby ” (altered so mama catches as the original bothered me)  and the last is called the puzzle song. 

Lyrics for the puzzle song: *note I learned this is a chorus class in school and have no freaking clue who wrote it. 

I gave my love a cherry that had no stone,  I gave my love a chicken that had no bone,   I gave my love a ring that had no end,   And I gave my love a baby with no cry-in. 

How can there be a cherry with no stone?  How can there be a chicken with no bone?   How can there be a ring with no end?  And how can there be a baby with no cry-in? 

A cherry when it is blooming,  it has no stone,  A chicken when it is peeping it has no bone,  a ring when it is rolling it has no end and a baby when it is sleeping has no cry-in. 

What songs have made a difference in your life?  I would love to hear about them. 

Struggles, Beginnings and the peace gained 

     
           This is the garage door that started the journey for me.  I took this picture yesterday.  Six days from now I will have been with my boyfriend for twenty one years.  Some days that feels like a century… But I digress.  When we first got together,  his “grandma” (who was actually his adopted mother)  let us live in her garage.  She had a bathroom put in on the back porch of her house (and had him pay her back for it to teach the twenty one year old us about bills) but she never charged us for the utilities. At the time I was to headstrong to see the gift that she was giving us… She was stern and slightly scary to me.  I have learned that she really was an amazing woman since. 

          I can say that it was a struggle to make the garage into a home.  We ran gas lines for a stove.  We acquired a refrigerator from a local mission.  He and I slept on a large sofa we were given. I failed to appreciate the struggle then,  because at twenty one I was ignorant of the way of the world.  I had seen the darkness in man,  but I had really never had to do the housing thing.  When my family didn’t have a home I lived with my grandma.  So I always had a roof over my head.  The garage wasn’t even the worst place I have ever lived. I have lived ten people in a two bedroom trailer with no running water.  That is another story though. 

      Now Joe is working on getting the house.  He inherited a fourth of it and his adopted sister is giving him her share.  So we have only two halves to buy before it is ours.  This is a convoluted and stressful time for me.  I want to keep the memories of this house.  I want the stability for my family that the house will provide. But the house also has baggage.  Baggage in the form from of people who are currently in the house.  People who we are trying to get settled.  There is a lot involved with this. Add the fact that we are not able to settle in and you have the chaos of my life. 

      Then I looked at the garage door and felt like it had come full circle. Which is why I took the picture.  The feeling of peace came through in the picture. 

Stress and the results 

We all go through moments of stress. How we deal with said stress is how we are as a person. Now don’t get me wrong,  I am not judging anyone for the way that they deal with the stress in their life.  All that I am saying is that we as a society tend to see dealing with stress as a character definition. 

           However sometimes it is beyond our capacity to deal with.  Then stress becomes mental illness and nervous breakdowns. There becomes physical symptoms.  And it varies by the person. Stress is not something that is wanted by anyone.  It does however,  on occasion sharpen the mind and make clarity easier to achieve. 

            I,  myself,  have found that for example the stress of a deadline can get the creative juices flowing in some.  I have also seen others who freeze when placed under such stress. How do you handle stress?  And what are some relaxation techniques you have for dealing with stress when it shows up? 

Viewpoints 

Rain is the perfect weather to think in.  There is two sides to every story. That is something that we often forget,  especially when we are fighting.  When we are fighting,  all we want is to express our views.  We want to show that we hurt,  and that we believe strongly in what we are saying.  We forget that we love,  and that we may not be the only one who is right.  Two sides to each story does not always mean just right and wrong. 

          Sometimes,  an argument is about two people who have valid points and neither know how bend to see the other view. It really is normal.  However during the fight,  it is not something that anyone thinks of. I myself have been guilty of this.  We get so involved in ourselves that we find ourselves alone with hurt hearts and confused minds.  

          Still in the moment it is very hard to step back.  It is not a thing that comes naturally to most of us.  So we have to decide whether or not to back down or to feel like we are untrue to our own truths.  Standing our ground can cause friction between us and whomever we are arguing with. Sometimes backing down is allowing our truths to be ignored.  

            It is possible for both sides to be right.  So when you deal with the hurt from an argument,  keep that in mind. If you do not want to back down from your view,  it is fine.  Just consider that you are not the only one involved.  Consider if the other party could be right as well. 

Group programs that take the social out of social media 

Yes,  I am slow sometimes in responding on Twitter or the like.  Doesn’t mean that I am less likely to do so.  The problem with apps like crowdfire and similar is that it takes away from the socializing.  You are sending out blanket messages and showing that all of your concern is the numbers.  People are not numbers…. And they never should be. You can miss some amazing interaction and the amazing ideas behind the individual by using those apps.  As a writer,  I love stories.  Each person is made up of a unique set of stories that came from their unique life.  Why would anyone deny themselves the opportunity to hear them?  Of course you will find the occasional troll. But if you are willing to allow them,  even trolls can teach you about people.  Social media outlets are for being social…. Quit automating that. 

Commodity 

Another day, 

Just like the 

one before. 

Freedom a lie, 

In the land of 

the free. 
Stolen from life, 

Forced to live 

this strife. 

No longer human, 

A bought toy

Forced to endure. 
No one sees

What is left of me. 

Nothing remaining 

Except a commodity. 
(Just a note) 

Human trafficking is a crime.  Unfortunately one that happens too often.  The sites below are filled with information on this crime and how to prevent it. 

Need help? United States:

1 (888) 373-7888

National Human Trafficking Resource Center

SMS: 233733 (Text “HELP” or “INFO”)

Hours: 24 hours, 7 days a week

Languages: English, Spanish and 200 more languages

Website: traffickingresourcecenter.org

http://www.truckersagainsttrafficking.org

planning and prompted writing

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I have been writing more lately.  This is a good thing.  my poetry is flowing. And the stories are trying to do the same. this is where my issue is.  I am not a planner when I write.  So when I have a dozen stories vying for space in my mind and am only one person…. well it means that I get so far in a story and lose track of where it should go. which is entirely frustrating. Planning the story only causes me to loose focus quicker. I am not saying this to whine.  it is just the way that I am.

So I am feeling that frustration with my current story and I set a deadline with my editor.  What that means is something ends up being forgotten in my struggle to make the story fall into line. For me… I am sorry to say… it has been this blog. I wanted to apologize for this.  I will likely be lax in posting until I am finished with this one and sent to the editor. I hope that you understand and return to see me after the 27th.

Labels

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So I have my entire life been unable to fit exactly any label. I was sporty,  nerdy,  geeky,  a loner,  a bookworm,  social,  antisocial,  introvert,  extroverted,  a joiner…well you can see where I am going with this. It was not a true issue for me,  and was all in the same breath. I always felt like I was on the outside.  I laugh… I collect labels… But then I would hide the fact that it hurt.  Why should I be a label?  I have never been very good at limiting myself…

That being said…. My twelve year old is very much like me.  She is fluid in who she is and what she does. She asked me today…. Mama why do people have to label each other?  Why can’t they just accept that each person grows and change with each passing day? …….how is it that this child who has not yet reached even a decade and a half umderstands something that eludes over half the human race?

Perhaps we need to learn instead of separately labelling each other,  to instead celebrate the uniqueness that is the human race.

Define Art

According to Wikipedia… An artist is : An artist is a person engaged in one or more of any of a broad spectrum of activities related to creating art, practicing the arts or demonstrating an art. The common usage in both everyday speech and academic discourse is a practitioner in the visual arts only.

I find myself so often considering whether or not I should use the title of artist.  I know that I am an artist… But I feel like what I do doesn’t seem as good. Yes this is my anxiety talking. But part of the issue is art is truly subjective. I can look at a picture and feel like it is genius,  and then you can look and see it as garbage. The same thing goes for any kind of art…. Paintings,  poetry,  yarnwork, music.  With no baseline to measure the art against,  is it really any wonder how many artists fail to have strong self esteem?  Add the fact that you then are expected to,  if you want to make a living from the art,  find the way to sell these small expressions of your soul. It takes a huge amount of courage to even show another soul what you have done. Then deciding what you are worth?  Bah I see it as nearly crippling.

Seasonal Blues

Screenshot_20161214-060114.pngso this time of year it is so hard for many people.  I often feel like it is the worst because of the expectations we are put under to be nice to people who we can’t stand the rest of the year.  Or the fact that we are separate from the ones that we love and have no way to remedy this. Sometimes it is just the weather changes and the sickness that seems to linger about making it even more difficult to be social.  I just wanted to reach out and say that you are not alone.  If this is a difficult time for you,  reach out.  There is always someone who you matter too… Whether you know it or not.  And in the holidays we some times forget about telling the ones around us how much we care.  For some the inner voice is not a kind thing.  Trust me when I say that you are not alone.  ❤