Archive for April, 2012

This is a verse from one of my all time favourite songs by the amazing Joni Mitchell (who happened to grow up only 3 hours from my hometown in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan). The song is called A Case of You , it is beautifully written and Joni delivers it so well with her unique voice and style. I have added the file below and I recommend you take a listen. (This is my favourite verse from the song and holds one of my favourite quotes)

Oh I am a lonely painter

I live in a box of paints

I am frightened by the devil

And I’m drawn to those one that ain’t afraid 

I remember that time you told me, you said,

“Love is touching souls,”

Surely you touched mine

Cause’ part of you pours out of me

In these lines from time to time

A Case of You

Sometimes when we are struggling and suffering in our lives we tend to become angry at the situation we are in. Often times asking The Universe “Why me? Can it get any worse? How did this happen?” As I have gotten older (even though I still consider myself a kid, even though I’m not) I have realized that becoming angry at any situation does not make it better. Being grateful however, can make your mood about the situation change. Next time you are facing adversity stop and take a moment to be grateful for all the things you do have and the things that bring you joy and happiness. I know it can be extremely hard to follow this advice and I too am one who can be known to fight gratefulness. Sometimes when your down you don’t want to focus on the good because everything around you appears bad. So next time you’re having a difficult time in life, struggling or just being unhappy think about these few words below. Think about all that you do have and not what you are losing or fighting. Just being grateful for breathing can have a powerful affect on your psyche.

“Change your Attitude to Gratitude.” (These words just popped into my head this morning, I love it when that happens!)

Zen Einstein…..

White

Posted: April 22, 2012 in story, writing
Tags: , , , , , ,

This is the beginning of a story I started to write. The story ended up morphing/growing into something else and this no longer fit with the idea, but I really loved this opening and even though it’s not finished and slightly abrupt I still had the urge to share it with you all.

White. White. White. White walls, white ceiling, white floor. If a color could make a person go crazy, white, would be that color.

White clock, white pen, white file. White.

Sitting surrounded by all the blankness that is the color white made her anxiety grow stronger.

Tick.

Tick, tick, tick.

If an object could make a person go crazy, a clock would be that object. As if people didn’t notice the passing of time enough, they had to add an insidious ticking sound to keep you informed of every second lapsing.

The combination of the whiteness and ticking was pushing her over the edge. She closed her eyes to avoid the horrid glare and lifted her hands to hers ears. She tried to relax but that was a lost cause she hadn’t felt relaxed since she was five. After years of emotional distress she had virtually lost the entire concept of what it meant to relax. Her hands began to sweat and she could feel her heart pounding in her ears. She couldn’t sit there much longer, she began to bounce her knees, nausea crept up into her stomach like a familiar stranger lurking in the shadows. She wouldn’t be able to last any longer, she needed to get out of there before she hurled all over the ugly white walls. Just as she was about to get up a muffled voice saved her and pulled her back into reality.

“Ms. Brooks?” A hand reached out and touched her shoulder, she flinched and opened her eyes, she stared at the woman stunned by her contact.

“Ms. Brooks, are you okay? Do you need a glass of water?”

She couldn’t put together any words just a simple vertical nod. The woman, a short redhead, with far too much make-up for her age, scurried across the white floor with her white sneakers; they squeaked as the rubber collided with the linoleum. She reached the water cooler, filled a cup and shuffled her way back, squeak, squeak, squeak. Tick, tick, white.

“Here you go Ms. Brooks,” she held the cup in front of her face.

White. A white cup.

How did she expect her to drink water out of a white cup? White is what go her into this position. She took one look at the cup and without thinking swatted it out of the redhead’s hand. Oxygen was simultaneously extracted from the air and pulled into everyone’s lungs, a gasp was heard from all mouths.

“I’m sorry, I just– I just don’t like the color white,” she stammered, sounding slightly confused by her confession.

“No need to explain Ms. Brooks, I don’t like it either. Dr. Willows will see you now.”

She rose from the chair, but she couldn’t move forward. She was stuck in this white box, that ticked, that squeaked, that blinded. The box held her, consumed her and deprived her of rational thought.

Tick. Tick. White.

This is a Quote from a woman by the name of India who was on an episode of Oprah‘s LifeClass featuring Gloria Steinem. After the woman spoke Oprah’s response was I could just weep over that.                                                                                                                                                I did.

“People always ask can you have it all? And I think one of the questions we need to start asking ourselves is not can we have it all, and mean marriage, children, career, but do we have the power to do the things that will make us happy?”

Do we?

I haven’t always loved to read. As a child I was very stubborn and despised being forced to read in school. I found that the educational system took all the fun out of getting lost in a story. However, when I was 11 my aunt gave me a book to read for fun. It wasn’t really an appropriate book for an 11yo but I fell in love with it. The book was called A Child Called It by Dave Pelzer. It is the true story of a young boy who suffered immense abuse and cruelty as a child. After reading the book I felt a burning inside of me, I wanted more, from that day on I was focussed on reading anything I could (although I still hated reading in school). I am always looking for new books to read and suggesting my favourites to others. I thought I could share with you some of the books I most enjoy and hope that you will in turn share your favourites with me.

Abduction By Robin Cook

Flowers for Algernon By Daniel Keyes

The Book of Not Knowing By Peter Ralston

Room By Emma Donoghue 

The Hunger Games/Catching Fire/Mocking Jay By Susan Collins (ignore the hype about the movie, the books are awesome!)

A Child Called it/Lost Boy/A Man Named Dave By Dave Pelzer

The Midwife of Venice By Roberta Rich

Glow By Amy Kathleen Ryan

The Art of Racing in the Rain By Garth Stein

Night By Elie Wiesel

God is Dead By Ron Currie Jr

The Birth House By Ami McKay

This is a very condensed list as I could dedicate a whole blog site to the books I love! I am always looking for new books to read so please do send me any suggestions. I don’t really have a preference for genre, I will literally read anything once (and have a tendancey to read my faves over and over!)

What is this life? Is it nothing but loving and losing? Is this not a life for the damned? Am I damned, are we all?

This life, this life is only living, only loving, consistently growing.  You can never lose love, you can only lose the living. The reality of death is not losing someone but rather gaining them whole. Their whole heart, their whole soul, their whole being. That is this life, and the next. If that makes us damned then let us all be damned.