Blogging 101

“I believe that life is all about perception and timing. That good things come to those who act and that life’s about more than collecting a paycheck. I believe that the only person you’re destined to become is the one that you decide to be. That if you try hard enough you can convince yourself of anything. That having patience doesn’t make you a hero nor does it make you a doormat. I believe that not showing love proves you’re weak and belittling others doesn’t make you strong. That you are never as far away from people as the miles may suggest. That life’s too short to read awful books, listen to terrible music, or be around uninspiring people. I believe that where you start has little impact on where you finish. That sometimes the best thing you can do is walk away. That you can never be overdressed or overeducated. I believe that the cure for anything is salt water; sweat, tears, or the sea. That you should never let your memories be greater than your dreams. And that you should always choose adventure.” 

Todd Smidt

Today I began a course through WordPress on blogging. Yes, Blogging101.

My first assignment: write a blog about why I’m writing my blog.

I began my story telling several years ago, planning to write and learn WordPress as I went along. I have been telling my stories but somehow the learning part got lost along the way.

It’s not that I have not had the time.

Truth be told, I’m not very good at admitting I don’t know something. Lots of truth and history in that statement–which would make for an excellent story if I could get the details past my internal critics.

Which is why I started this whole process–to learn about my past and to share what I learn along the way. In the tales I’ve shared so far, I have discovered many readers have similar questions about themselves and their past.

Do I want to dwell in the past? No.

As a way to survive, I’ve buried parts of my past so deeply it’s going to take a lot of time and patience to pull them all out so I can finally let them go.

I can’t move ahead if I continue to trip over my past.

All my challenges brought me to this place and helped make me the strong person I am today. By sharing my journey I hope I can help others begin their own.

Along with the story telling it is time to dedicate myself to learning the tools I have in my toolbox.

Thanks for being part of my work–in my WordPress course work and as I begin to celebrate myself.

I am…

B…simply being. 

~Peace~

 

Unknown Stories

“Behind all your stories is always your mother’s story. Because hers is where yours begin.” 

Mitch Albom, For One More Day

I’ve thought about my mom a lot today.

Sixty-six years ago she was in labor, waiting for me to be born. I was her first baby and I was not waiting for my due date. This individualized perception of time is a pattern she’d battle and one I’d follow my entire life.

It’s only been the last year or so I’ve given myself time to think about my mom from an adult point of view. It’s been eye opening and heart breaking to look back with the knowledge I have from my own life experiences which intermingle with my childhood memories.

I miss her.

I love you, Mom.

“I didn’t get to grow up and pull away from her and bitch about her with my friends and confront her about the things I’d wished she’d done differently and then get older and understand that she had done the best she could and realize that what she had done was pretty damn good and take her fully back into my arms again. Her death had obliterated that. It had obliterated me. It had cut me short at the very height of my youthful arrogance. It had forced me to instantly grow up and forgive her every motherly fault at the same time that it kept me forever a child, my life both ended and begun in that premature place where we’d left off. She was my mother, but I was motherless. I was trapped by her, but utterly alone. She would always be the empty bowl that no one could full. I’d have to fill it myself again and again and again.” 

Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

I am…

B…simply being. 

~Peace~  

Time Travel

“Childhood is the one story that stands by itself in every soul.” 

Ivan Doig, The Whistling Season

Memories.

I’m so surprised at how unexpected things can stir up such powerful ones.

My latest trip down memory lane was sparked by three little bowls I found at an estate sale. As I held them I was immediately transported back in time to Aunt Marie’s house in Omaha.

In my mind I saw myself standing in the little kitchen in front of the large farm-style sink, drying dishes. The person who dried the dishes had to put things away. It became my job because I was the tallest. Little did I know then just how much I should have enjoyed that title! Putting dishes away was not an easy task nor was it something you could do quickly.  This was especially difficult due to the fact all the other kids in the neighborhood ate earlier. This meant we could hear them all running and we were being left out. The pressure was on me because no one could go out until we were all done.

To begin the process I had to duck in order to open the wide white cabinet door. Once open I was always amazed at the stacks and stacks of mis-matched china. My twelve-year old know it all mind could not grasp why anyone would choose to have all those different types, colors, and shapes of cups, saucers, and plates.

Today I realize and appreciate the fact that this massive cupboard held not only the original family china but pieces of sets from every family member who had died or moved away from Omaha.

As we got older, my sisters and I visited Marie when we could all get away for a long weekend. Looking back, it’s disappointing to me my young adult self did not have the insight to ask more questions about family and get details about that treasure trove of dishes. Now the dishes are gone as well as those incredible story tellers.

But, by the grace of God, I have physical reminders of Marie. Several times during the day I get to hold each one and thank God for her and for all she did for my family.

I pray she can hear me because I cannot imagine where any of us would have ended up without her.

“I do not miss childhood, but I miss the way I took pleasure in small things, even as greater things crumbled. I could not control the world I was in, could not walk away from things or people or moments that hurt, but I took joy in the things that made me happy.” 

Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane

I am…

B…simply being…

~Peace~