There are many challenges to writing. One in particular is finding it difficult to write about something. We can always start with "once upon a time", though that phrase applies to almost any writing, I think. So, what if we start with a phrase and write from there?

Phrase

She stared, unblinking, out of the window, absorbing the darkness of the night, until she felt the searing visceral pain deep within her soul.

I am thinking about starting a writer's journal here. Anything goes. If you have poems, short stories, or novels in the oven, feel free to post. Comments should be welcome. Remember, all works belong to the authors. Anyone interested?

Anyone up for a challenge?

Yeah, I'm in this funk that I cannot get out of. I also cannot put my finger on an exact cause for this feeling. I haven't posted in awhile, but I have decided that writing helps me to feel better, so here I am. Anyone out there with the gloomies and no known reasons? Let me know. Maybe we can figure this out together.

I am not happy with myself. I am better than this. Who am I? What can I do to make a difference? I have some great thoughts, it's the actions that elude me. So, here I sit. Waiting. For something.

Just Me

I just found out that my daughter has been granted funding for her continuing on to receive her PhD. I am so very proud of her and I hope she knows how much I love her. I also hope she hasn't forgotten that beach house that she promised me for my retirement. :)

So I had this dream. It was a bit wacky, but I can probably explain it through real life experiences, but for now, I prefer to remember the innocence, fun, and peacefulness of it all.

I lived in an unfamiliar, yet familiar house with my mom and my dog. FYI, my mom passed away several years ago. Anyway, we were outside in the backyard and there was a cement patio just outside the door. I was looking around at so many things; yard ornaments cast aside, plant pots, planting soil, buckets, gardening tools. So many different things, all bent and broken, but usable. The yard was also overgrown with plants of all kinds. Funny, no flowers, just green and very interesting plants. As I was searching through the plants, I discovered several plants that had eyes. I knew they were harmless, as they blinked when I looked at them. I felt the need to be very careful. I didn't want to hurt anything growing there. Then, along came Moo. I'll explain. A squirrel was playing and laughing (yes laughing) in the tall plants. He came up to me and we began to talk. I don't recall the conversation, but I told him I was naming him Moo. This because he had the exact same markings as a dairy cow. Black and white. Very cute and such fun. I was laughing and he would perform these antics, which were a joy to watch. My mom was always there and watched us, but said very little. She was not distressed by Moo's appearance, though she seemed a little concerned about rabies when he nipped me on the nose. However, Moo apologized and assured me that he did not have rabies. I believed him. I had no reason not to. Sadly, I woke up after that. I want to go back to that garden and play with Moo.

So I get a phone call from my best friend last night. We are both about the same age. Lets just say we're baby boomers. And she proceeds to tell me that she had a minor heart attack a few days ago, has been hospitalized, had stints placed in 2 arteries, and is now home. I am numb. And a bit frightened for both of us. I am so happy that she is doing well and will return to work next week. I do keep thinking, however, are we old enough for this stuff to happen already? So after we hung up last night, I made a mental list of all the things I need to stop and start doing. Only this time, I need to take things very seriously.

"To see the absurdity and contradictions of an actual infinite number of things in the real world, imagine a library having an infinite number of black books and an infinite number of green books alternating colours on the shelves and numbered consecutively on the spines."

"Does it make any sense to say that there are as many black books as there are black plus green books together? Not really, but that is what you would have to say if you want to claim the infinite is possible in the real world."

“Suppose we withdrew all the green books. How many books are there left in the library? There would still be an infinite number of books in the library even though we just withdrew an infinite number and found a way to get them home! Suppose we withdrew the books numbered 4,5,6... and so on. Now how many books are left? Three! Something surely is wrong here! One time we subtract an infinite number of books and we're left with an infinite number; the next time we subtract an infinite number and we're left with three-a clear logical contradiction. Since our hypothesis leads to a contradiction, the hypothesis must be false-a library with an infinite number of books cannot exist” (Author Unknown).


http://powertochange.com/questions/qna7.html

I received a call from a mother last night. She was very upset. Her daughter is 12-years-old and has been the target of bullying at school, including verbal and physical abuse. It is my job to counsel people who call me and to help them find solutions. It is also heart-wrenching to hear their stories. There is something terribly wrong when a parent fears that his or her child is depressed and the word suicide comes up in the conversation. I know several parents who have lost their children to suicide because the bullying became too much for them to bear. The youngest was 11-years-old. A problem? Most definitely. A solution? None to date. The new laws do not work because the schools do not abide by the laws. Losing one child to suicide related to bullying or for any reason is just one child too many. I need to figure this out. Maybe that's one of my life purposes? I don't know yet. All I can do right now is listen to the parents and the kids and let them know that they are not alone in this crazy world.

It's beautiful outside and I am being lazy. I have a ton of work to do, as I am trying to finish up my thesis in psychology so that I can move on to my PhD. Oh well. I also start working on the 30'th at DHMC. I am excited and nervous. Medicine is my love and my life. It took many years for me to come to that realization. However, psychology is also important to me. People are fascinating. I am learning that people can be difficult to understand. Many times there are alternate meanings behind the words that are spoken. But, I always love a good puzzle.

Me