Blanket

From February’s Writing Prompts, February 20, 2016

A blanket always warms you, most often in more ways than one.

How great is it to climb under that blanket in bed when you’re cold and tired? To get that chill out of your bones makes you sleep so well. The warmth and coziness…heaven.

Then there’s the blanket of security. I admit, I had that literal security blanket with me when I was little. I carried it everywhere I went. I had it for years, and it became old and tattered. It was time to throw it away.

As adults, it would be considered a little strange for us to carry around that blanket. But we all have one, if not the actual blanket. Security doesn’t have to be an object, it could only be the idea of something that makes us feel safe and sound.

We all need to feel that sense of security. When we lose that security of love or friendship, it wreaks havoc on our feelings, emotions, and our lives.

What is your security blanket?

“True friendship is like a warm blanket on a cold winter day…” ~GB Life

“Listen, Charlie Brown, that old blanket soaks up all my fears and frustrations.” ~Charles Schultz

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Frozen

From February’s Writing Prompts, February 19, 2016

Sometimes it feels like we are all just frozen in time, but everything flashes before you in an instant.

It’s how I feel about those years spent overseas in Europe as a kid and teenager. It’s how I feel now as an adult as well.

When I was that young person, spending time walking the streets of Naples and Bagnoli, I almost literally felt frozen in time, with all of the history surrounding me. I spent 6 ½ years in the midst of that, but it went by in a flash, and I don’t feel like I appreciated it enough while I was there. What I wouldn’t give to be back in that place and time again.

Today, as an adult, that frozen feeling comes in a different context. It comes in the form of fear or grief. It’s the fear of what comes next, and feeling frozen in time and not able to move forward. It feels like you’re living in a nightmare that’s never ending, yet the days, hours and minutes go by so fast.

Still, I think about what I wouldn’t give to be back in that foreign country as a kid again, with not so many cares or fears, just like it used to be. I’m sure I would fully appreciate every moment, and not let any of it slip by.

“Alice: How long is forever? White Rabbit: Sometimes, just one second.” ~Lewis Carrol

The Moral of the Story

I am deviating from February’s Writing Prompts once again.  Maybe in the middle of March, we will get that finished.  Sometimes another topic takes over for the day, so I need to share it.

The Moral of the Story

I have a bookshelf full of books, most of which I’m still trying to read. What most people don’t know is that I have a good portion that would be considered for children or young adults. I don’t read these kind of books because I have the mind of a child. I read them because I learn something from each and every one of them. I find that there’s a meaning or a lesson to be learned in every story that’s told, whether it be a children’s book or a book that adults would read.

Aesops Fables

Take Aesop’s Fables, for instance. This book has been marketed as a children’s book of morals to be learned, but it was originally written for the adult reader, not a child. Each fable is written in a way that each individual can respond and interpret these morals according to their own needs and reach their own conclusions as to what the fable means in their own lives.

It’s quite fascinating when you look at a “children’s” book in this way. I’m sure most of us have either not read this book, or just brushed it off as entertainment for children; but how many of us have really read these and really thought about what they mean to their everyday lives and how we live it?

There is something to be learned every day. Sometimes a fable with a moral is the greatest thing to learn in life…

Go read. It’s ok to feel like a child while you’re doing it!

A pink tutu

From February’s Writing Prompts, February 18, 2016

ballet collage

I always wanted to dance in that pink tutu. A little girl’s dream! I got to dance in a yellow and purple one when I was young, though. The time of my life!

I don’t know why, but I didn’t dance after this. I was put in Brownies instead. Later in life, I asked my mother why I never danced anymore when I was a kid. She said, “You told me you didn’t want to.”. I’m not sure what would have possessed my brain to think that way. Brownies wasn’t for me. I never even moved on to Girl Scouts when I got too old for Brownies. I also turned to music, which I was very good at, but I still loved ballet.

When I started college, I enrolled in a ballet class, which was taught by a German woman named Heidi. She had been a professional dancer in Germany before she moved to the United States. Being 18 years old, I was already a little too old to be dancing. I did it anyway. I certainly had a difficult time, but Heidi always kept on me, and she was tough! She always called me “Re’gee nah”, with that guttural sound in her throat when she was pronouncing the “g”. It always made me giggle, especially when I frustrated her, as it was more pronounced. I could never seem to get the distinction between Pirouette en dedans and Pirouette en dehors…I was always going in the wrong direction! But in the end, she always gave me a wink and a smile.

Within a few months, Heidi had me on Pointe. That was my dream, and it felt so good! The feeling of putting on those pointe shoes cannot be explained. It was a double-edged sword – so painful, yet so exhilarating!

I couldn’t dance for very long. My already damaged back, hips and a weak left ankle were my enemies. Even so, it was one of those things that I was happy to have had the opportunity to experience. I never got to dance in that pink tutu, but I gave it all I had.

Years later, I’ve turned in the pointe shoes for a pen instead.

“Dancing in all its forms cannot be excluded from the curriculum of all noble education; dancing with the feet, with ideas, with words, and, need I add that one must also be able to dance with the pen?” – Friedrich Nietzsche

Stiff

From February’s Writing Prompts, February 17, 2016

Every time I turn around, it’s something different. Being a Diabetic, one expects their immune system to give you some crap from time to time. It can be a bit much, and I wonder why I’m continually given these challenges to bear.

I’m trying to make changes – to keep that stiff upper lip. Granted, it hasn’t been easy, and everyone has heard me complain when it gets rough.

Everyone has their own adversities, and I’m no different. Time to display that fortitude in the face of it.

I’ll keep it stiff.

“And though hard be the task, keep a stiff upper lip.” – Phoebe Cary

What a jerk

From February’s Writing Prompts, February 16, 2016

We go through life and our days trying to be good people, thoughtful and considerate of others. I believe this of most people I encounter, but things in this world sure have changed, and a lot of us are beginning to question our trust in humanity.

I see more now the “me-first” behavior, with most people portraying a sense of entitlement to everything.

The one question that came to mind as I was thinking of a “jerk” was, does it really pay to be a jerk?

In business, most would say it does. Why do those jerks get ahead? Are they on to something here? Those jerks at work tend to be perceived as those with the power because they portray overconfidence. Those of us who try to be the nice guys end up last, as the saying goes.

I find myself looking around me at the general public too. More often than not anymore, the jerks are prevalent everywhere I go. At the grocery store, in the parking lots, on the road. I don’t see these kind of jerks as powerful; I see them as quite the opposite. They are weak people, and just plain rude.

What happened to greeting people with a smile and talking nicely? What happened to opening up your eyes and looking around you and having courtesy and respect for the other people around you? Common decency has seemed to disappear these days.

I feel like walking around with a sign that says – PLEASE DON’T BE A JERK – THANK YOU.

It saddens me, but once in a while, I do see that one good person out there, and it changes my view for just a while. That one man who didn’t think twice about buying coffee and a meal for the homeless man who just came in to the coffee shop to see if he could get some water; the person who helped the older woman get something from the grocery store shelf that she couldn’t reach; or that one generous person on the road that gives you the signal that it’s ok to change lanes in front of him/her.

Wouldn’t it be a better world if we all just quit being a jerk? Be nice. It probably takes less effort anyway, and you might even feel good about yourself.

No, I won’t

From February’s Writing Prompts, February 15, 2016

No, I won’t accept the silence, I need answers. Time passes…still nothing. It’s frustrating, even maddening.

No, I won’t give up my quest. Nothing makes sense, but I will continue to search for the knowledge that I need to keep moving, to keep creating. The inspiration is there, I know it…I just need to find it.

No, I won’t be the same. The journey has taken me a completely different direction than years past, and I only hope it’s the direction I’m supposed to go.

It’s all uncertain, but no, I won’t stop.