encouragement, Human Behaviour, Human Nature, Humanity, inspirational

Nothing Prospers Yesterday

Nothing in the world will prosper yesterday. Yesterday does not exist save for our memories. It cannot be taken back and tweaked, and yesterday is a reminder that we live in the present.

No future plans will be turn out as we imagine, and how can we imagine anyway? The future is out of our reach. Planning is healthy, but expecting the perfect result may always disappoint. And it may surprise us. Humans were not designed to know the future, and there’a good reason for that. If we know our future, it could very well blow our minds. No psychic can truly see your future. Some people are truly gifted; however, the future events of our lives are not entirely predictable. There are too many variables. It’s my belief psychics can pick up impressions from the present, and guide persons into a decision, but who has learned the exact future from a person who is sensitive? In my experience, I paid too much to raise my own expectations.

Focus energy on today. Our days have twenty-four hours, and those hours are split into dark and light—to be awake and to be asleep. Fill days with hope, find solace in a good days work or play. Get a good night’s sleep after a busy day.

Today will turn into tomorrow—what have we done to enter into tomorrow? Have we succeeded at something? Will we? Tomorrow waits, but for today, dream, because dreams and goals are healthy. We enter into tomorrow with that dream.  What takes years to do always happens in our todays, and it could be this day we reach a lifetime goal.

Thanks for reading.

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Addictions, Human Behaviour, Human Nature, Humanity, parental losses

Dear Unpublished Name

PRIVATE PAIN

Please come and share with me,

I promise not to judge.

I see the pain in your eyes,

so young… I hold no grudge.

I care to know about you,

what takes way your sun,

and I wish to be there for you,

if dark days have begun.

I ask your pillow sometimes,

why tears have run from you.

I wonder what each stain there means,

and then I cry some too.

Nothing you could ever do

would turn me away from you,

so never be afraid.

I have much love for you that’s true.

You are changing

and I am too.

Do you know

that I grow with you?

Each step that you take,

I am there in shoes

that lace up with your learning days

with double knots tied for two.

God has placed you in my hands.

He blessed me to teach and love.

So always know I do,

and no matter what happens to you,

in my heart, it happens for me too.

Always remember, I love you,

I know you and I need you.

We shall reunite again

because I filled your heart

with teachings of loyalty

to last your lifetime long….

© Lynn P. Penner, 2003

Some things just don’t end well no matter what anyone does to help.

2018

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ADD, Cat lovers, Human Behaviour, Human Nature, Humour

Who Could Know?

Every scrap of paper I’ve written something important on, I keep, but I can’t find them. I have filing trays with printed off information, non of which are organized yet, but will be as soon as I finish working on another project. My sticky notes are mostly expired, but if I trash them, there’s a chance I’ll still need a couple or three. I get uptight when my hubby comes into my writing lair to borrow my stapler, because, bless his forgetful heart, he won’t remember where it belongs afterwards.  I have two overly furry cats who shed remnants of fur in here, and I put up with it because they own the place. That can be distracting. I’m only able to thoroughly focus on writing or editing my novel or story. Anything and everything else seems to lead to other things to think about. I’m either suffering from ADD or ADD is symptom of writing. Who could know?

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ADD, Dyslexia, encouragement, Human Behaviour, Human Nature, information, inspirational

Breaking the “Bound” Barrier

So dead ends lead to new directions? Sounds legit. They say, “Don’t give up. Find the opportunity in loss.” But who are they, anyway? Those who have stabbed a flag in their goal?

It’s easier said than done, isn’t it? Clinging to a goal and hanging on in savage winds while sharp edges of crumpled old leaves fly in our wide open eyes? Is it possible to endure that pain but not become jaded? Sure, only thing is, going against all odds is an arduous journey, which includes our personal barriers, like being bound by time, finances, criticism, learning differences, etcetera, plus the ever present competition also.

I have barriers I needed to accept before I could continue with my project, but I’m not complaining. Not anymore.

As you can see, I write. As you cannot see, I have dyslexia. My spelling errors, which are a lack of ability to retain many word spellings in my brain, and mistakes due to reversals, are seemingly endless to edit. Nonetheless, dyslexia serves me with a mind movie kind of imagination. I constantly think in images, creating story scenes with  ‘people’ you can’t forget in realistic fiction. I also turn things and images in many directions, obviously letters and numbers. But I don’t use a measuring tape to hang pictures or curtain rods because of my spacial ability. I know if a piece of furniture will fit a space, and I’m within an inch just by eyeballing. A three demential view of two dimensions is common. Hence, I don’t complain about dyslexia.

ADD is Another Directional Daydream. My mind flits. I form multifaceted stories with this barrier/ability. While writing, I perceive the present, future and past, quite similar to a movie. In the end, just as any daydreamer does, I come back to the present. This forms my plot, subplots and brings the story to a plausible conclusion.

However, beating the odds to have a manuscript accepted is an ongoing battle. This is my last draft—time to find a publisher! Not so fast. It can never be fast. Haste is waste in my world of dyslexia, and ADD takes the scenic route. Uh oh, so not my last draft. Throw on more coffee.

However, I did my time—I did it! I broke the “bound” barrier by respecting my barriers. Accepting what I’m bound by released me. My novel manuscript is back with my traditional publisher while I wait to see if she is pleased with my edits according to her instruction. This is an exhilarating and nail-biting good time!

I studied dyslexia and ADD and discovered what I should expect, and what I should respect about these gifts. My imagination is rich; I must be patient with the side effects. There sure is opportunity in loss.

 
Thanks for reading.

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encouragement, Human Behaviour, Human Nature

The Gradual Shock

When it first shows, we either deny it, embrace it, or cover it.

The off-white ceramic tile floor held tables, chairs, and persons. New, round tables were dotted with various beverages and paper plates of colourful food. Emotions varied according to each person’s experience, connection and memories. Laughter peeled through the community room; so did sniffles and polite nose blowing.

Unlike family reunions, yet actually similar, are funerals. Saying good-bye isn’t like the hellos of a fam-jam, yet the gathering is similar in the way a lot of people haven’t seen each other for a number of years.

I sat with a coffee, and a rumpled tissue pushed under one eye then the other. The acoustic guitar tribute got me. I noticed not just me. Afterward, I watched mostly well dressed feet going in purposeful directions on the clean floor. Some headed back to food and beverage tables, other strode to greet people who had nearly become strangers.

I recognized many, and the surprise was subdued, because people grow older, I know. Nonetheless, it grows where a once proclaimed illusion of never ending youth is taken for granted. The gradual shock of grey hair.

The shock got the spirals of my long lost friend’s rock and roll pride. The grey strands mingled with intrusiveness in his soft brown length. Bit by bit, some were tentatively welcoming maturity. Others, years behind my age, the gradual shock left them entirely white. Silver graced the crowns of many, working its way to temples and tips. The gradual shock is a respecter of no one.

How did we all get this old? We’re only in our fifties.

I mingled, my silver stripes demoting me from childhood golden locks. My peers silently brought me to a realization this February: it’s okay to look older. It’s all right to let the gradual shock cajole me into aging gracefully.

Funerals are the celebration of lives lived. Weddings, a celebration of lives joined. Both of these events demonstrate how time waits for no one, starting with matrimony; babies, grown children, then funerals of parents, and next our friends….

I observed. I said good-bye. I cried. I viewed photos. I mingled. I hugged. I laughed.

I wondered how it is going to be for me.

Thanks for reading.

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Human Behaviour, Humanity, millennial children, undisciplined grandchildren

The Changes Regarding Parents’ Rights

Baby boomers, both my husband and myself. We grew up with rules, and we didn’t make decisions about what we ate and when, about bedtime, or if we went to school or not. And if we disrespected our parents and other authoritative figures, there were most definitely consequences.

Why did the rules change? Why do little children get to decide so much these days? When did it become all right to show little to no respect? Why are parents giving up the driver’s seat? Why are they surprised when their unmanageable little ones become manipulative, defiant teenagers? And why does everyone have to get a trophy in competitions?

Moreover, why do parents turn to the internet to raise their kids now rather than asking a parent. Grandparents are called grand for a reason. Grand experience, skill, knowledge, understanding, background, maturity. Wisdom.

Why is my daughter teaching her kids to scream it out when they get frustrated? My grandson could’t get his zipper undone. “Just scream… and breathe.” Scream? Are kids no longer being encouraged to cope at five years old? I’m the grandmother of twins and I’m telling you, it’s double mayhem. There seems to be a confusion in this day and age about the difference between discipline and abuse. And we grandparents are to step back and watch the decline of our future adult population. If we offer our opinion, we’re given twenty-five excuses as to why our logic, which has sustained society for  centuries, is terribly wrong.

I’m not the only one who feels this way, yet it’s one of those things we don’t talk about much. Although our grandkids are not our children to raise, isn’t there still an element of shame in our cheeks when we see how those we did raise well are failing at the essential task of being in control of their own kids? Didn’t we teach skills of coping with frustration? Didn’t we teach manners, like being grateful for birthday and Christmas gifts with a thank-you said rather than a gift thrown to the floor in distain? Didn’t we teach about eating proper food before getting dessert? Did we not teach our kids to greet company and say good-bye also? I’m sure I’ve not mentioned it all, but I bet you get the point if you have grandchildren whose parents think we and our ways are old and outdated. Silver hair, invisible being. Wasted wisdom.

Perhaps not. It could be your grandkids are well behaved, and you’re comfortable taking them anywhere. If this is the case, I must say I feel exceedingly glad for you. You have sensible grown children who’ve accepted old-school logic.

What makes the difference? Why are some millennial parents better at getting good results? Well, I can only assume your grandchildren are being raised not by the internet, but instead with your input when needed, and good information in published books by reputable publishers. Good parents these days know how to say no and stick to it. Consistency outshines giving in to fear of children being displeased and not being their parents’ buddy.

I’m genuinely interested to know who out there finds the discipline lacking and tension growing. Who, despite raising your own children to the best of ability, are experiencing the hardship of keeping your mouth shut while watching chaos develop?

Thanks for reading. Leave a comment to agree or disagree. I’m looking for input.

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Bipolar, Human Behaviour, information

Bipolar Season

The disability of the bipolar mind aches for sunshine.

Unaffected people don’t understand how the dim days have such an impact, and even our doctors cannot be empathetic, only sympathetic. But we can understand each other.

We know the reason for trying to stay in bed as long as possible is counterproductive to our condition. But it’s the season. Winter sucks in more ways than one. Everything takes longer in the winter. Clearing snow off cars, driving in slush and snow shaves time off the precious few hours of daylight we have. More layers of clothes take longer to put on. Walking takes longer. Coffee shop lineups take longer, because more people need that hot caffeine—and we with bipolar need more than that.

The problem is, treatment for depression in persons who have bipolar is dicey. Antidepressants can push the brain into mania, and no treatment with medication keeps us in the pit. So we must be carefully monitored by our doctor either way.

It’s bipolar season. We must be prepared each year if we live in areas where winter manifests with gobs of snow and breathtaking frigid temps. It’s cold, the sun makes a rather brief appearance, and the whole world looks grey in our view and in our heads. We need to work on our mood skills. And we can. It’s the middle of January, we have enough winter left for us to work on feeling less like we’ve died and are waiting to be put to rest. We’re alive, our brain needs our efforts. C’mon, let’s get up.

There are things we are able do to help ourselves. Sometimes it dreadfully difficult, but it is not insurmountable. What’s the alternative anyway?

Get up and go to bed around the same time, even on weekends. Our brain needs consistency.

Take medications as near to the same time as possible. Meds work best if the distribution to our bloodstream is regular.

Avoid alcohol. It’s a depressant. A sociable drink or two when you’re well isn’t terrible, but alcohol is easy to become addicted to because of its legal availability and the illusion of remedy.

No one who is depressed wants to go out unless a job pulls us out. If you don’t work outside your home, make yourself go into a mall. The stimulation is more than you’d think. Any reasonable stimulation for our brain is good even though we may not feel it. Go have a coffee or tea somewhere, preferably with a friend. If a friend isn’t available, go anyway. Sit in, finish your coffee or tea while listening to alive sounds of conversation murmurs and dishes clinking in the kitchen. It’s a small step, but it makes a big difference in our human brain, our weary mind.

Play some favourite music. I know it won’t feel like it’s your favourite, nothing really does during depression. So just do it. While it’s playing, go make your bed so you’re less inclined to get back in it. Watch a movie or surf Netflix. It’s helps with mind racing if there’s something to focus on.

Remember to eat properly. It helps to combat fatigue.

Text a friend or two and tell them you feel empty. Ask for a voice conversation. Don’t hide the fact you’re depressed. It shows in your eyes, voice, and body language anyway, so tell a friend you need support.

Accept company even when you’d rather hide in your jammies and mindlessly scroll past Facebook ads. It need not be a long visit, but it’s reassuring to not feel like the last human on earth.

Write yourself a note about how you’re feeling before and after doing something to stimulate your mind. Eventually you’ll see what makes the biggest difference.

Do some housecleaning, especially in the room you spend most of your time. Clear surroundings declutter the mind, too. And colour! Adult colouring books are the best invention ever.

If you’re having racing thoughts, remember it’s just the depression speaking. If you have thoughts about taking your life, call for help. Don’t second guess yourself, call immediately. There are different numbers for various areas, so jump on Google and type in suicide hotline and your city, province or state. Your life is worth way more than you think. No one is going to be better off without you, including you.

If you live with someone, tell them you are depressed. If you live alone, make sure a friend or two knows. It’s a pretty hard secret to keep. It makes us feel very alone.

One of the most important things to do is remember this is temporary. Even a long temporary is still not forever. And you have bipolar, you are not bipolar. Keep your identity with your given name. Remember this always.

We have bipolar. We are creative. We are survivors. We are strong, and we all love it when spring comes—winter is also temporary. We have so much to offer. We have talents and maybe they’re still hidden, but we do have talent; it is a magnificent gift to share. Check out “famous bipolar people” on Google. I could hardly get my fattened head through the door when I saw who I share this big ole bipolar with. We can do this bipolar season. We’re nearing the end of it. Keep your chin up. Give yourself a smile in the mirror. That tricks the brain, believe or not, into thinking we are happier than we feel.

We matter. Bipolar, bipolar, let wellness come over.

Thanks for reading.

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