I Wouldn’t Do Anything


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Blogger With a Cause.”

If your day to day responsibilities were taken care of and you could throw yourself completely behind a cause, what would it be?

Honestly, I probably wouldn’t do anything. I’m such a whimp. Any causes I’ve felt passionate about I’ve kept secret. All the things I would do, no one knows about. I’ve gotten my foot wet a time or two, but nothing more than that. So for now, I let other people speak out while I sit quietly by the sidelines.


Do clothes make the person?


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Clothes (May) Make the (Wo)man.”

I was that weird person in high school that would wear dresses and long skirts. I’d wear blouses and vests. I got dressed up for picture day. I met my partner while sitting in a field wearing a blouse and dress pants while waiting for movies in the park to start. He said I stood out from all the other students there. Yes, the weirdo in dress clothes at a very informal student event where every other person was in shorts and a tank top. I’m not sure that I prided myself in my looks or anything like that. I think at that point in life I was too uptight to relax, actually. However, I’ll admit that I did learn to feel pretty when I was in professional attire so I continued to wear mostly dress pants and nice blouses after having my first children. My husband would tease, a little, about how I’d get up and dress for work each day. I think because I never imagined having children, I never thought I’d find myself at home full time. I was keeping my identity of a professional woman alive.

However, we eventually decided that I was going to homeschool the children. Then we moved away from any professional work that I did partake in on occasion (I was an active member of a rape crisis and prevention centre and also a relatively active doula). We moved to a small town community. I had another baby and jeans and oversized sweaters became my clothing of choice. I only wore dress pants and handful of time and once it was to a funeral. I’d even occasionally don the traditional homeschooling outfit of a long denim skirt, but that was as far as my “dressing up” would go. We’d started to go frugal with clothes before we’d moved (and got some flack for that from people who felt we could do better), but at this point I started to only buy second hand clothing for the children and myself.

We’ve since moved even future away from from civilization. I have not purchased an article of clothing in the last two and a half years.  My mother and law gave me a bunch of stuff when they moved full time into an RV, but we aren’t the same size so I am virtually swimming in her pants and I’ve started to wear mostly my partner’s old t-shirts. There are days I don’t actually make it out of pyjamas.

I’m actually going back to school in the fall and want to reconnect with the professional woman I dreamed of becoming. I have thought quite a bit about how clothing gives me the feeling of being put together and I really want to go out and spend some money on myself, but then I think about my real life, dogs and messy (but happy) children, and it all seems pointless. It would get ruined or be covered in fluff all the time. That being said, I think that getting dressed in the morning, brushing up my hair and smiling would do a world of wonders for my mood. However, I don’t think that looking down at myself in new clothes covered in fur and paint would, so I sit here in my paint splattered shirt and jeans that are 3 sizes too big, wondering what happened to the person I was..

Crash and Burn


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Green-Eyed Lady.”

I admit it. I am jealous and sometimes it feels suffocating. I’ve left, for the most part, facebook, because I am jealous. I see families doing things together. I see Daddies hugging their little ones. I see people in love. I see people interacting with their friends and I get jealous. I’m so very tired of feeling so alone in life and I often wonder how I got here. So, I don’t really change things, I just do what I can to isolate myself even more so I don’t have to see other people’s lives rolling by. I know, realistically, that their lives are not what they share on facebook, but all I want are moments, mere moments of the connectedness they share.

So yeah, I’m jealous. I’m jealous of those who are living life – those who are connected.

It’s so odd. I happened to have a playlist (songs from 2000) playing on youtube while I was writing this post. This song was one of my favourites. I fell in love to it. How did I end up feeling so alone?

You Never Forget


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Forgive and Forget?.”

It happens that I have survived a number of unfair, cruel, and sometimes criminal acts. Forgiving and forgetting is utter nonsense. You don’t forget. You aren’t the same person you once were. As far as forgiveness goes, if that floats your boat then go for it. I have forgiven myself and I have forgiven those around me, but I will not forgive the perpetrator. I do have compassion and understanding, but not forgiveness. I’ve been changed. That isn’t easy to forget.

I guess all that being said, I wouldn’t be who I am without these events, and that isn’t bad. I’ve gained compassion. I’ve worked with a number of wonderful women. I’ve healed. It’s opened doors for me, but there’s still pain and there will always been pain, but I’ve accepted that this pain is a part of my life. There are still areas that need work as I often allow situations to progress beyond my comfort level as I don’t feel like I have a voice. I didn’t then, and it is hard to make that voice heard now. This is why I cannot forgive. The work does not stop because I have accepted what has happened. I’m not allowed to forget…..however, there are times where this feels like an excuse, so I keep pushing ahead and keep going.

When all is dark around me, forgiving and forgetting sounds good, but that’s not the way that life works.

Gee, What Good Timing

Today’s The Daily Post prompt is It’s a Text, Text, Text, Text World.

How do you communicate differently online than in person, if at all? How do you communicate emotion and intent in a purely written medium?

What timing! I actually just wrote a post on facebook explaining that I am stepping back from there.  Yes, it’s a text, text, text, text world and I feel it is isolating me even more from the real world. I think that, while I’ve met the majority of people I currently communicate with over the internet, it’s time to step back from the voyeuristic aspect of facebook. It’s such a weird phenomenon – constant contact with people, but only very rarely a feeling of real connection. It actually promotes a feeling of aloneness. A whole group of people swimming around on the internet in circles. It’s a medium to share, certainly, but people don’t need to know all, and actually, knowing all about others is quite uncomfortable.

In addition to that, I feel it has gotten to the point that our brains are changing. I used to be able to read for hours on end. A textbook would hold my attention for the whole day. Now, I find myself skimming articles (even if they are interesting) thinking just make your point already. I don’t like it, but I’ve learned to think in facebook statuses and twitter tweets. It’s not working for me anymore and I want real communization with people. I remember the days when letters were sent by mail and you had to wait for weeks for a reply. I also remember when e-mail was the go to thing. Yes, it was quick, but letters were still letters and there wasn’t pressure to reply right away. No one seems to write like that anymore. It’s all quick, quick, quick, quick comments, likes, and statuses.

I could write a whole lot more about intent and how to make that come through one’s written work, but I seem to have stumbled upon issues with that in the past little while, so I’m not the one to ask right now. I just do the best that I can, I suppose. I hope that is enough. I tend to mirror what everyone wants both online and in person, so my own real intent and emotions seem to get lost in the fray, but I’m always doing my best to give everyone what they want and that can be a bit exhausting. It’s a game I play online and in real life, and is a stumbling block to most of my communication (and likely my existence). It’s probably something to work on. I guess communication is just not one of my strong suits.

As far as purely in real life communication – I am notorious for not doing that. As I mentioned above, everyone I currently communicate with are folks that I’ve first met over the internet. I don’t go out into my community and try to meet people. I have some social anxiety and always worry that I am come off as weird or stupid. I think that the only way people will like me (or at least put up with me) is if they’ve gotten to know me over the computer screen. So when we change communities I join local online groups or I see people around town and think, hey, you might be cool and then I find them on facebook. Back before facebook, I joined local online playgroups on good ol’ Yahoo!. I’ve met awesome people this way that I never would have met as I don’t do real life, but I’m going to try to push myself a little bit more with that. I am pretty sure that people will not bite me and I do want to show my children that they don’t need a device to meet people!What a novel idea – walking out of the house, looking someone in the eyes, and saying hello!

Oh yes, it’s a text, text, text, text world and I don’t like it. I’m not sure we can change it, but I’ll certainly try.

Love, Sweet Love

I’ve been thinking about, and writing some, about love this last little while. Love is something that I have a bit of a love (ha ha)/hate relationship with and I’ve struggled to define it. Of course, because there’s no such thing as just dipping your feet, the daily prompt for today is Want to Know What Love Is. Yes, what a way to make this whole let’s get back into blogging thing easy.

If you asked me before this last little while, I would have likely described love as putting the ones you love before yourself and doing whatever you can to make their lives easier. However, I’ve been there and done that, and it’s not really love. Or rather, if it is, it’s a bit misguided. That kind of love is a good way to just burn out and get to the point where it feels like you’ve just given it all and there’s nothing else left in you.

I actually spent many years just going through the motions of love without feeling much of anything. I cared about those around me. I did all I could for them, and yes, I loved them, but I was also completely spent. I felt very much like I could give it all and get very little in return and it got the point where I felt pretty resentful much of the time. I just didn’t have anything else left in me to give.

Right around that time, I was given a most wonderful gift in the form of sweet boxer dog. I always say that she taught me how to smile and love again. Sweet Penny was there for me. She didn’t judge. She was happy to see me. She didn’t care how silly I was. She stayed close to be without being demanding. She knew when I was sad and needed someone (or rather, some dog) to be close to. She was so, so special to me, but sadly she was only in our lives for a very short time, but yes, she taught me to be open to love and what it’s all about – being there, being patient, knowing when to be close and when to stand back.

She’s been gone for over a year now (it’s actually very close to the two year anniversary of us getting her….so she’s been on my mind lots these last couple of days), and I’ll admit that it’s been a struggle and I so often get back into the rut of doing stuff to show my “love”. Last summer I posted on facebook about how very spent I was and how I didn’t want to do anything anymore. I couldn’t. I was finished. I talked about how I couldn’t be loving. I didn’t know how. A very wise woman told me that I didn’t have to do anything, that I was love, and that really resonated with me. Love is a state of being, it doesn’t have to be an action where you give and give of yourself to no end. You can show love in all those ways, but really to feel love, you have to be love, and I strive for that every day. It’s beyond challenging, I’ll admit, but one day I’ll really believe and I’ll just be love. Then you’ll see what I can really do. No more waiting for love for me, I’ll have it within myself.


My son told me today that I should write.

I am not so sure.

He says that I would be good at it. We had a bit of a chuckle when I asked him what I would write about. We’d been watching a vlogger on youtube that posts a video EVERY day about his various adventures (or sometimes, lack there of). What would I write about? Doing the kitty litter and wiping poopy bums? Yeah, he agreed that those topics might not be the best idea, but that I could certainly find something interesting to write about.

I’ve spent the last weekend going through all my old e-mails (yes, from waaaaaaay back over 15 years ago right up the the present time). A topic that came up regularly was my writing and what I was doing with that. I guess that at one point I’d thought that I had something valuable to say and that I had the words to express those feelings. I’d also regularly write fiction and thought that maybe one day I’d finish a manuscript and maybe, just maybe, get published somewhere.

So many years have passed since I was that person. I pretty much gave up writing almost fourteen years ago when I met my husband. I’d tried from time to time, and of course, I’ve sort of kept a blog (or two), but I’ve felt that my writing was always strained and not very authentic anymore. I don’t really now what happened, but I repeated over and over again to people that the worlds just didn’t flow anymore.

Since I’ve been dealing with pretty significant insomnia, I’ve decided that maybe I would make use of those hours to post something on here as regularly as I can.

I’m warning you now that I am coming from a place of pretty significant isolation and I’m trying to get my stuff back together as it has been a rather rough go for the last, well, while. I’m not sure what is going to come out here. Maybe I’ll be authentic or maybe I’ll try my hand at creative writing. I really don’t know where I want to go with this. I do know that my son thinks that I have things that are worth saying, I think. Maybe he likes my daily musings, or maybe he thinks that if I am busy I’ll get off his back and let him program in peace. Who knows?

I just know that maybe it is worth giving it a go.