The Really Ugly Duck

The other day I stumbled upon some stories inspired by popular childhood fairy tales.  These stories in Jon Scieszka's collection were quite similar to the originals but ended with a twist.  Amongst the slightly perverse stories was one titled, The...

Whenever I am lost...

Whenever I am lost computing what is lacking in my life, I am miserable.      Considering my mind's warnings, listing what was missing as an important process of qualifying my existence,  my misery was insured.  Subtly without realizing it, ...

Is Everyone Doing Their Best?

Most people argue when I say, "Everyone is doing their best." They do not agree that 'everyone' is doing their best.  They believe that some people know better but choose not to do better. This view however as I see it, lacks the question of who is...

Practicing Letting Go

Saturday.  I am not energetic but it's the day we have decided to clean out the basement; we have vowed to de-clutter.    My life has entered the letting go stage.  Amassing no longer a wise choice, the current project is to execute a lighter...

Every Day: a promise

The advice is the same from differing venues.  Write every day.  Whether it's for improving the art of writing, the art of creativity or the art of being, the suggestion does not differ:  write every day. Sit in front of your blank page and don't...

Memories, shhhmemories!

Wondering what could have been, I have learnt, is the mind unsatisfied with its present circumstance.  For in energizing a focus on what could have been, eventually taught me how futile, inane and a waste of time this particular line of thinking is. ...

To Be Heard Or To Listen... that is the question

I once thought blogging's purpose was about being heard. Then I thought it was about freely expressing ideas that could not be expressed elsewhere.   Then I thought it was about relationship with others.  At times I thought it was about distraction...

Blog Number 1000 (give or take a few)

A day,  currently a non living entity, has passed into yesterday.  It lives only in my memories.  It lives in recorded glimpses in my camera.  It lives as others show me replayed stored memories, recorded slivers. Once again, or more accurately,...