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Bicycle lights, bicycle lights Riding with friends from the neighborhood after dark With the crisp spring air and the sounds of the night Getting that last lap in before bedtime My boys have those lights on their scooters and bikes And I wish they were around in my day But I recognize that feeling they give anyway It's a feeling we have all felt A Swagger; a JuJu A pep in our step and a smile from the rearview Remember being a kid? No worries, no stress No finances or relationships that need to be addressed I wish we, as adults, spent more time having fun and left more cleaning to wait more dishes undone If we all had bicycle lights and the feeling they give us We would dance more in the kitchen We would not be so serious We would tell those around us that we love them and that we need them We would sing and act silly Do you remember that freedom? Bicycle lights, bicycle lights Can I borrow you for a while? I need an hour of smiles and giggles I need the energy of a child I want the confidence of youth I ache for the ease of those years The innocence, the imagination Before all these doubts, hurts, and fears Let's go play in the neighborhood Until the street lights come on Let's soar on our bikes down a hill And remember where we came from
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A nurse's heart is broken and whole at the same time She mends, she soothes, she uplifts, and she primes She is a buffer, a translator, a fetcher, and a bridge Has anyone ever asked about her deepest wish? A nurse's mind is sharp and fast She intakes and outputs while completing her tasks She stores all the info and processes all the scene Has anyone ever asked about her hopes or dreams? A nurse's shoulders are steadfast and strong She carries your weight, she hums to your song She catches the emotions of all in her path From the doctors, to the families, to the new undergrad A nurse's feet are swift and on demand She will get it, she will do it, she will continue to stand They may ache, they may swell, they may beg for relief But she knows how many benefit from the work of her feat A nurse's back is used all day long By the weak, by the broken, by the scared and alone She can do it, she will help you, she will lift all she can Have you ever thought to ask her if she needed a friend? A nurse's hands are skilled and attuned They can hold you and heal you and clean up your wounds They don't waiver, they don't hesitate, they are always there She swells when she realizes all who have gained from their care A nurse's heart is broken and whole at the same time If you love a nurse, or you are a nurse, know that we are our own kind. We take love and transport it from our insides to yours. We take healing. We take knowledge. And we deliver unforced. Please share this with the nurses in your life. I see her. I am her. Our work matters. Godspeed. follow my nursing content on TikTok
Time Out Time Out I need to shout and push and pull and rip and tear but I can't do that, so I just sit here Time Out Time Out I need a time out I'm on the verge of eruption and I can't let it out because adults aren't allowed to throw tantrums or pout So what do adults do? We medicate or we shop We gossip or we party or we eat or we stop We stop what we are doing, we freeze, we lounge And rarely does anyone look up to notice we are down 😔 Because just like us, the ones that love us are just going through the motions They work, they spouse, they parent, but dare they notion?!? See adults, we aren't allowed to get loud or show passion We must color in the lines We must shape, form, and fashion Our lives and our minds and our hearts and our souls into everything They want from us into everything we were Sold Someone somewhere sold us a dream and we bought it, full stop That life would be perfect That the elusive shoe would never drop But it drops and it dropped and we watch it hit the floor So I beg of you, dear ones let's permit an Uproar Let us process our disappointment, our envy, and our fears Stop telling me I'm not allowed to be angry or shed tears I'm a woman, yes a woman, and you might hear me roar and I hope that doesn't push you away from my door because the rest of my house is full of love and joy and I'm getting too old to let you tell me to avoid all my truths, all my days that I've walked in these shoes so sit down on my couch, love... and appreciate these hues I'm the most beautiful colors - if you'll open your eyes Love is loud, love is mobile, can you handle my ride? To every other human
that is tired of sitting on their hands, I see you. It's 3 o'clock on a Sunday with laundry caught up and dishes done There's a wedding now to plan and a full household to run There are 2 in a hormone surge well 3 counting me We have been rushing for so long that we don't know what "still" means There are reels and shorts that lazily pass the time and make the tweens laugh while the husband and I just sigh See we are in The Middle Not the Beginning or the End We have pill organizers and good socks but we still eye the newest trends And we don't have grandbabies to rock Not yet, hopefully one day we will There are 2 still in the nest here So we can't yet seek every thrill We have jobs that we enjoy and hobbies we hope to do one day But on this Sunday away from the ballpark we aren't sure what keeps the itching at bay It's an itch we can't scratch It's a question about life and loss We are thankful for every moment we have but those uncertainties still come across So to all my friends who are also in the middle Let us lean on one another We are husbands, wives, friends, and family We are more than just father and mother One day at a time. One milestone, one crisis, one joy at a time. Let us hold tightly to each other in This Middle. The End will come no matter how we spend our days. Godspeed. Please consider supporting my fellow Hope*Writers by reading their work: The Resurrection and What it Means for Believers by Lisa Granger https://lisamarcelina.net/the-resurrection-and-what-it-means-for-believers/ Finding Meaning in Life … and Death by Dianne Vielhuber https://simplewordsoffaith.com/2021/05/14/my-most-important-3-ring-binder/ The New Stage of Grief: Finding Meaning in Hardship by Ashley Olivine https://www.ashleyolivine.com/the-new-stage-of-grief/ School colors like black and gold Varsity cheerleaders Marching bands with trombones Or school colors like yellow and black Lines of school buses Bring excited August students back School colors like green and white Chalkboard and chalk Now Chromebooks and a mic School colors like Crayola in a pack All the colors of the rainbow Glue sticks, play-doh, and papers stacked School colors like pink and purple Little girls' hair bows and backpacks On their devices playing IXL & now Wordle School colors like navy and grey Quarterbacks and point guards Breaking records, making their way School colors like off-white and beige Tile floors and cement walls Janitors mopping, cafeteria workers wave School colors like baby blue and white Pep rallies and pom poms It's homecoming tonight! School colors like silver and black TURN THE LIGHT OFF!!!! BE QUIET!!!! HE'S GOT A GUN!!!! DON'T LOOK BACK!!!! DON'T MOVE- JUST BREATHE NO NOISE - WE NEED TO STAY QUIET, SO QUIET COUNT 1, 2, 3 DON'T CRY, IT'S OKAY YOU WANT YOUR MOMMY SWEETIE JUST STAY VERY STILL, SO VERY STILL I AM NOT SURE IF HE WILL COME TO OUR ROOM POW POW POW SCREAM SCREAM SCREAM NOW NOW NOW IT'S SO FAST, SO VERY FAST IT'S SO LOUD, SO VERY LOUD yet so quiet and so lonely am I frightened or just zoning out or am I in? is it over? did we win? no we lost and school colors are red for blood shed and white for those who died and black for the marks on our souls don't look back School Colors, School Colors I don't trust you anymore. I am hiding behind a bookshelf with America's children on the floor. Honors Day comes every May and with it comes some pain Pain for those who watch from afar Pain for those who were never the star and sometimes, a feeling unnamed This feeling of reeling from dealing with life and school and kids and daily strife There's work and marriage and laundry and dishes and unfulfilled goals, broken promises, forgotten wishes And all of a sudden we are all 16 again full of both awkwardness & confidence with our acne and our hormones watching the principal hold the microphone And we wait for our names to be called 1 2 3 and the teacher didn't call it they didn't pick me Pick me or my kid? What's going on in my head? Am I rejected for their rejection? Is this about me instead? Oh Honors Day, dread Honors Day I love you when you call my name I hate you when forget about me Wasn't I good enough? Don't you see? The joke is on us friends for life is its own Honors Day Your boss, your friend group they always pick who they want to stay We want to belong we want to matter to feel seen and heard But what I have just realized What I have finally learned Is that I throw my own Honors Day EVERY DAY for myself for my kids, for my spouse WE are the trophy, WE are the shelf I won plenty of ribbons and plaques and awards But they're somewhere in a box And now my family is my sword to keep fighting this fight we call life every day so when your lovely looks up to you disappointed from Honors Day just tell them, no SHOW them, about the true trophies in life Like kindness and empathy and perseverance. Hold that baby tight. Look right in their eyes and tell them YOU are their shelf. And no matter how good someone measures them to be, they are HELD. Don't push your sweet lovelies to climb to the top. Let them be who they will be. Let them stop if they need to stop. Honors Day comes every May and with it comes some pain just let it go on and do its thing. Don't let it determine the gain. Brought to you by a trophy-winning, plaque-possessing, still-trying-to-figure-it-out 16 year old stuck in a midlife body. Honors Day is just another day. Your sweet babies are the TROPHY. Please be a kind and loving SHELF. Godspeed. Just like a plant first emerges from the soil, I feel that burst of energy after my labor and my toil I have prepared this new beginning that was written in the stars. Will I miss my sweet darlings? Will they always be in my heart? Of course they will for that is who God made me to be. A person who loves and stays committed to thee. ❤️ But I am so very excited to plant new seeds. To bear new crop, to have more reach. Will I miss my old garden and all my farming friends? Of course, but this is just a new plot of land. Some bare acres await me and all my ideas. How exciting to lead, to lift others, to calm fears. The doubters might think "yeah she is in for a treat." But the treat is in the soil, the gardeners, and the seeds. 🌱 I am not the treat. I am simply the sun, ☀️ the rain, and one of the tools to help the garden run. I am not all of that of course. I am no fool to this game. But to be on the team and be invited to play! 🥳 Is the best feeling in the world to be appreciated, to feel heard. The anticipation explodes inside me. No longer a noun, I can be a verb! Some tears will be shed over the last garden I built. I will see you all again. This flower just had to leave before she wilt. 🌸 There she is, bright red hair Big blue eyes, skin so fair All those freckles, my oh my Surely, she can never hide “Hey girl, hey”, the boys looked on Look at her with that black dress on But she’s not the same as the other girls She speaks her mind, she says big words You’re just a friend, Aim, it’s no big deal I can’t look at you as more, that’s just how I feel You’re one of the guys Aim, don’t get so mad Now why on Earth would that make you sad? Does she like me? Does she think I’m cute?!? All the boys would ask me about my friends in suit Will she date me? Can I make her mine? All the guys looked past me. I never crossed their mind. Should I play dumb? Should I change my ways? Am I that unattractive? Am I just that plain? I could dye my hair. I could bat my eyes. I could try to say less. I could minimize Myself for them. I would do it, I would. If I act helpless or scared, will that make me good Enough to touch and think about at night? Because I can change, I can dim my light Think small, do less, don’t let the boys see That you are the QUEEN, Her Majesty Just play it cool, don’t reveal your Ace Giggle at their jokes, soften up your face All the boys like a damsel in distress Stop keeping it clean, try to create a mess They can rush in and "fix" and make things nice Let them be the best; don’t forget they’re always right Change is hard, you know – it’s okay to cry I don’t cry though boys – I’m just one of the guys If I’m being honest, I’m more like you than them I’m an Alpha with a D cup bra, where does that fit in? Yeah, I said it, I can say it, I’m tired of playing along This is my little poem, this is my Fight Song I am done with placating; I am done being small This is me, Smart and Driven, this is me, Curves and Gall I will no longer apologize for my strength I will face you head-on, I do not hesitate There she is, bright red hair Big blue eyes, skin so fair Photo Credit: Annie Spratt I was eager and he was young I was ready but he was numb I was happy and he was still I was hopeful but he was nil We had some laughs We had some smiles I read to him at night Does he remember those times? Then I had his brothers and he backed away or did I hedge him out? who could truly say? Come to me sweet boy not you, I mean him I mean all 3 of you silly I mean all of 3 of them It's different they all say he's not your blood Is it different? Aren't they all different? It's clouded. It's mud. I'm stuck and he's stuck. He looks and I look. We smile and they smile. I ache and he aches. We give and we take and sometimes it all breaks. His daddy can't get it. How could he? It's pointless. But I have to get it. And do it. And "go on, sis" Keep going. Keep numbing. I didn't know it. He didn't know it. We didn't know it but we did it and here we are and we are in it. So I look at him, a product as much of me as his dad. And I don't know what to do with it. I have these other 2 on my tab. The deductions, subtractions, additions?, conditions? It's all hard and whoever says that it isn't just ISN'T telling the truth dear. See I try to be real. He's "not mine" but I'm his and we're each other's and how does that feel? Would I change it? Some days I would. In a heartbeat. Not a second thought. But does he need me and do I need him and are we better because we came together when we were both broken and wounded and bleeding and cold Now we're mending and warmer and dare I say, a little old. Was it easy? It's been the hardest thing I've ever done. It can push 2 lovers apart quicker than any weapon, any gun, any bullet to the heart that's how some moments felt I have wept, I have wailed, I have screamed, I have knelt But one day his daddy may find out what it took to hold it ALL together and to remain unshook in the quake of dysfunction and abandonment and grief of a sweet little boy looking helplessly at me. She didn't stay, sweet baby, and I'm so sorry. I can't explain it. But I'm here and I'm not leaving, and I promise - I wouldn't change it. To every little boy or every little girl who had a mama or a daddy step up outside of the DNA lines. This is to you dear ones and to the strong adults who have rearranged their hearts and lives for you. We wouldn't change it. My story is different than most step-moms. Almost seven when I met him he already had a mom. So I did what thought a step-mom would do. I had no child of my own. Lord knows I did not have a clue how to parent this sweet boy who slept down the hall every other week for a week. Thus we stumbled; there were falls. Those early years of homework and karate class. Parent-teacher conferences where I was often asked if I was his mom, since I was the only one who seemed tuned in who emailed and would come to all his events, I was all in. Meanwhile I had my babies 20 months apart, back to back. Boys upon boys, our schedules were packed. Those years of one on the hip and one in the belly and one hitting puberty. I wish THIS wiser me could tell THAT younger me that it would all work out one way or another; but his daddy and I we fought over and over. I saw coddling. He saw support. I saw side-taking. He saw retort. Step-son soon lived with us full-time and that was that. I was really his mom. She stopped putting on the act. So I again tried to treat all 3 the same "we have rules in this house" "If you did it, take the blame." But Daddy (to me) just couldn't allow his oldest who had been hurt to be kept in tow. Maybe by him, but never by me. Maybe on a Tuesday, but never consistently. So the marital battle of blended families began. It wasn't "yours, mine, and ours" it was "Me & The Little Two versus Them." And it divided us, collided us, excised us from the family that I had prayed for and dreamed of and waited for... But I didn't know how to fix it, The divide between the 5 of us. I was "always too hard on him," I needed to "chill out and stop caring so much." This passionate mama doesn't know how to do that. I see my children and I want them to try and to do their best. Thus the battle continued. There were wounds. There were scars. Being a full-time step-parent has left its mark. On our marriage. On my spirit. On my step-son, I'm sure. The war still continues as we are almost 2 years in to him being an adult and out of the house. I have certain expectations. I require a text or call now and then. I wish I could tell you it's easy or fun. Maybe for some folks it is, but not for us. Trying to glue us back together has been the hardest thing I have EVER done. But we keep on trying Keep on fighting Is it Fighting or is it Trying? The world keeps spinning The time keeps ticking The years seem shorter The road can seem colder... but sometimes on a Saturday when I watch my children smile and play, I remember that it's worth it and HE is worth it and WE are worth it. I sigh and sleep the hurt away. So if you love someone you didn't make You see their soul, and you feel their ache, Remember that they know the truth And love is really all they need from you. Keep loving. Love heals. If you love someone you didn't make, I see you. You are seen. And you matter. photo credit: Oluwaseyi Johnson Was it luck that the young mother of three bumped her head on the bed post and came in to see me? She was picking up a toy that had fallen into the abyss between the bed and the wall but I felt we better not miss an internal bleed in her brain those are rare but not good so I ordered the CT scan and we both went back to mothering our brood When the phone rang that night I can't remember if I dropped the phone It's a brain tumor, and it's big Can you call her at home? Was it luck when the car struck her from behind? Plastic and metal shredded and busted near the yellow line Her head hurt, her neck hurt to the doctor she went And the MRI that was supposed to check bones instead showed a hint of the cancerous tumor that was showing no signs it was in her thyroid, she had no symptoms God was definitely on time Was it luck when she came to tell me she was in pain? Her abdomen was cramping, her bowel movements had changed As the dutiful NP, I pulled up her old scans Has anyone ever mentioned your lungs to you ma'am? My lungs, why would they? My lungs are fine well it says on here that there's an issue - do you mind if I order a CT scan of them just to be safe? God was nudging me, directing me, showing me the way Pulmonary fibrosis? what in the world is that? Well, sweetheart, it's serious, sit down, we need to chat Unfortunately it's the same way my own disease often ends Here's my number, you can call me, I actually do understand Was it luck when she looked at me with frustration and contempt? Ma'am I'm sorry I just met you, let me see if I can help You can't help me she thought, they've already run all the tests God tapped my shoulder, I looked a little deeper, there was one thing left I'm sure it's nothing, but let's check this one last thing It's an ultrasound, I know you're frustrated, but let's do it, okay? Okay, she said, and I wasn't sure she would actually do it But days later the phone rang, there's an issue, there's fluid The young colleague who sent her to me called me for advice What do I order next? What do you think it is? I'm not sure what to try. So I made my suggestions and prayed I was wrong. Come on Lord, let's let this young patient just move along. But He couldn't and she couldn't and my colleague and I cried Another cancer, a bad one, it's not fair, it's not right Was it luck that I've found some of these things at the craziest times? Or was it God this whole time leading me with His light? I'm no saint, I'm a sinner, I get fired up, I have faults, I get loud But when I slow down and I pray and I look up to those clouds I can feel Him, sometimes it's so strong I just weep Like right now as I type this, and all those nights I've lost sleep These are a mere few of the miracles I have watched unfold in my tiny little town with my regular little folks Are we special? am I special? I don't claim any of it as mine It's His, I'm a vessel, I'm a sparrow, I'm a scribe Dear Lord, there have been so many times I have seen You. Why me? Am I doing it right? I sure do try, but I need You. When the going gets tough, and my stethoscope seems too much My alarm goes off again, and I feel Your gentle nudge You'll tell me when it's time. When my service is up. It wasn't luck, God. It's been You. Knowing that is enough. Amen. Author's note: Age and any identifying factors have been changed due to federal privacy laws. Please help support my fellow hope*writers by visiting their pieces using the prompt work LUCK:
You are Not Lucky You are Blessed by Lisa Granger https://lisamarcelina.net/you-are-not-lucky-you-are-blessed/ Luck by Dianne Vielhuber https://simplewordsoffaith.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=10672&action=edit What Does Luck Have to Do With It? By Lori Shoaf https://www.lorishoaf.com/inspiringstories/what-does-luck-have-to-do-with-it Luck of an Evacuee by Ashley Olivine https://ashleyolivine.com/luck-of-an-evacuee/ Dear God, show me the way I am on this road Lord Do I exit or do I stay? I was once a little girl Learning the Apostle's Creed and the Lord’s Prayer Now I am a grown woman And I have seen far too much despair I have healed some I have broken some Bodies and hearts and souls And as I travel down this road Lord I reach desperately for your hand to hold There are nights I feel so lonely I know you are there but I can’t find you There is an emptiness that can control me I try to fight it but it obscures you There is beauty in the absence Sometimes I see it and sometimes I feel it A tree that has shed its leaves A body beyond Earth's healing A notebook blank and waiting for a pen A shared glance between strangers where love will soon begin A happy baby waiting for his first tooth A hopeful high school senior full of ambition and youth My Mammaw’s vase waiting for its perfect bouquet My middle schooler’s energy as he starts every single day Do I notice the widow alone on the bench? Do I dwell on her grief - Do I absorb her heart-wrench? Or do I peek in the bird’s nest that comes every spring? And await its perfect eggs Soon baby birds with tiny wings There is beauty in the absence God For even sorrow and loss is proof of love I will travel the road you paved for me Gently nudge me in those quiet corners Lord Help me remember I am enough Amen. photo credit: Josh Hild Have you ever been in a crowded room Conversations buzzing Bass guitar, drums kaboom Fun is in the air Laughter all around Does anyone notice I haven't been found? Sure, I am talking pushing out a nod yes Does anyone notice my brand new dress? I have so many ideas, fresh perspectives, big dreams Does anyone notice my ship is moving downstream? Hey, Listen! Watch this! Help me decide what to do! Does anyone notice I have dilemmas and crises too? Take, take, take Always dolling out the goods But I want to receive Dear Therapist told me I could! How do I ask for it? I thought I told them what I need. They can't handle me needing them. For I am the Savior indeed. Not the Savior like Jesus but the Solver, the Lover The Healer, The Lifter The Fixer, The Mother I want to be picked up. I want to be tucked in. I want to be protected. I want to be the less friend. Did I say less? Oh wow. I did. I'm too tired to be the best. I'm too broken to always mend. And pick up and clean up and listen and console. I want to be picked up. I'm no longer willing to be told that something else is more important and you can't handle anymore. I need a net, a pillow, a soft spot. I need a knock on my door. So if you're sitting at that table feeling overlooked and used. I see you, my fellow Fixer, Let's blow up this one-sided ruse. To all the Takers in this world. From all the tired, used Givers.
2 steps forward 1 step back Don't look up dear Stay on track The path gets clear Then takes a turn The heat turns up I'm tired of the burn I want easy I want laze You choose chaos You like that maze My body is tired dear My mind is worn down But you love that adrenaline Too high to see my frown And all are watching All ears tuned in And you love that trophy Isn't the goal to win? My goal is tranquility My goal is to meld I want to feel seen babe I want to feel held Do you love me? Do you see me? Do you want me? Do you need me? Why am I asking when I should know? 2 steps forward 1 step back I can't look up dear I've lost the track For all the lovers of chaos from all the lovers of ease. He sat down, head in hands, downward glance She looked up, tears in eyes, uneven stance I walked in, low on sleep, high on caffeine They walked by, on the street, young love, just teens He stood up, paper in hand, PowerPoint prepared She fell down, learning to walk, not nervous, not scared I walked in again, ready to listen, ready to care Do I absorb it, do I deflect it... do I share? The first one has a heavy load, family stuff, he's overwhelmed The second one feels trapped, but she's 83, where would she go? The third one is me, with my own load and I'm trying to figure it out Do I carry their burdens or give them back? I was never told... The fourth one is the big boss and the fifth one was once us While the overwhelmed man and the trapped senior unfurl It's good to remember that someone somewhere is in charge and someone somewhere is just a happy little girl The teens are just teens and I remember how that used to feel The butterflies, the headrush, the lovesongs, the thrill While I dance between empathy and boundary and pharmacy Someone somewhere is getting married or at a funeral or in the hospital nursery And so I sit here replaying today's events and my children's faces and my own dreams Do I let the man's troubles and the woman's sorrow fall off of me? Am I a sponge? A shield? Sand through a sieve? Where do I put it? How do I move it? What do I need? Dear Therapist once asked me "how do you feel? what are you feeling?" and I just stared. I ask that question, Madame. How do you dare! She brought out the preschool book and reminded me the names: anger, sadness, anxious, scared, and my favorite- SHAME! So I ask you, my brothers, my sisters, my friends Where do we put it? How do we move it? Where does it end? We are connected. Are we a puzzle? Passing ships on the same sea? I am you and you are me and we are thee. What is the answer? I need the code. I need the key. I will take today. You take tomorrow. Let's give her next week. He can do the dark nights. They can do the long fights. Let's share the joy and spread out the misery. Next time you see him. Next time you see her. Next time you see me. Remember the pleasantries are just a mask atop the real things. The real beauty of the patient-provider relationship is the back and forth. Never stop sharing with us. It's why we got into medicine. But if you love us or if you live with us and we are quiet or distant... We are simply trying to figure out where to put it. Godspeed. 🎼 Cherish: My Love Letter to Music 🎼 I cherish the depth of a bass guitar It tickles my rib cage; it teases my heart My toes start tapping; my hips, they sway Whether I am sad or mad or lonely, it’s okay While the melody speaks to me, The harmony sees through me The drums set up space in my body and soul, Add brass and winds and keys, Now I am whole But the lyrics, the WORDS are what I cherish the most They pierce me, tattoo me, renew me, and expose Those tiny little pieces that we all try to hide The lyrics, the WORDS... they seep gently inside I cherish the music that built this life The staccato of pleasure, the minor chords of strife In my darkest hour or my coldest night I cherish my medicine of music; it shines the light The lights are on and the volume is up I cherish the music that yields me unstuck I am rhythm, I am blues, I am a crescendo of hues Oh music, sweet music, our wayward spirits be fused When I received the "CHERISH" writing prompt from my writer's group, I had a small chuckle. My small bloggers' writing group consists primarily of Christian writers, all of whom are women, and whose work I enjoy and admire. That said, I considered all the ways we can cherish God and our faith that these women would probably cover in their posts. My mind, however, went STRAIGHT to Kool & the Gang's song Cherish which was released in 1985 when I was 9 years old and full of hope. What can I say? Music is in my BONES. I wake up with it. I end my day with it. It is a constant soundtrack for any emotion I have ever had, and it seems to pour out of me without effort. I cannot imagine my life without music, and well... I just love it. Please support my fellow hope*writers by reading their work:
So here I am. 11:32 PM on a Friday night. Laundry is caught up. Dishes are done. I've been off work for 5 days for a knee surgery, and I'm wide awake. The house is fast asleep, but here I sit. Why is rest so difficult for me? I can't blame the pandemic, because this has been an issue for decades. I don't sit well. I don't laze well. I don't relax easily. I feel guilt when I am unproductive, and I'm not sure why that is. Oddly, I can usually relax on vacation. Sure, I bring a puzzle, books, journals, and planners to work on, but I can sprawl on a stranger's couch without hesitation. I can sleep late in a stranger's bed, and I can (sometimes) leave dishes in a stranger's sink. I love vacations where outings are limited and "doing nothing" and "not having a schedule" are the highlights. BUT I CANNOT SEEM TO DO THAT IN MY REAL LIFE AT HOME. Not a single person on planet Earth outside of my household would know if I had been a complete lump the past 5 days, but I would know. Am I judging myself? What is this all about? Busy-ness is a disease for sure. I am the first one to ask my patients if they are practicing any self-care or getting enough sleep. And I do practice some self-care and I really do want to be asleep right now. But my breathing is shallow. My pulse is approaching 90 and I'm seated. My mind feels scattered and my heart feels heavy. Yes, there are several things (and people) on my mind. There are unfinished projects floating around in my brain, and there are conversations I need to have. Writing is usually the best way to get all the "yuk" and "to-do's" off my mind, so I'm hovered over this laptop waiting for peace. Now I sit here, with this truth I long for the exhaustion that comes with youth For with each decade comes more woes My jaw won't relax My eyes won't close Perhaps I will run and jump and ride And dance in the kitchen and sit outside Can wind and sun and trees and breeze Steal my worries, my need to please? I see my children doze off with smiles Such hope and joy imaginations wild Come on, sweet girl it's still in you The hunt for knowledge, the quest for new Lay that body down dear girl, don't fight it anymore Put those thoughts to rest dear girl, stop that mental tug of war You are enough You've done enough My love is enough Today was enough This goes out to anyone anywhere who has watched the clock, felt the shallow breathing, or had feelings of guilt associated with REST. You are not alone.
Godspeed. She didn't clap for me He didn't clap for me Wasn't I good enough? Didn't I try enough? Stay in my own lane Focus on my own thing But I want her to see me Didn't he say he loved me? Nose to the grindstone Tidy my own home But she said that she loved me He said he would cheer for me Back to the grind girl Focus on my world Can they not see me winning? All this energy I'm spending On the wrong things Not the long game Just the short course I am now forced To admit I want your praise But you look at me unfazed And I have to go back now Try to understand why thou Hast control over my thoughts My mind cannot be bought I am not for sale today You shall not have it your way I will win in spite of you I will shine right beside you And you could have shone with me But you could not grow with me So I'm back to my basics It is time that I face this You can't handle my success You pretend you want my best But I see you not clapping and I know you aren't happy I must do this by myself I want but will not get your help I'll stop looking for your praise I am closing this sad case Best of luck to you dear one When I look in this mirror I will clap for my own growth I will smile until I choke I can make my own sunshine Will I clap when it's your time? I would like to say I will Jealousy is a steep hill I can climb, but do I want to? Your lack of applause spoke for you ***author's note: While he or she may not be clapping for you, understand that says more about them than it will ever say about you. Doesn't mean it doesn't burn. Don't give them your energy. Roses are red and
violets are blue There once was a girl who was told what to do She was born with a fire inside her it's true, But she had to obey and follow the rules So she did all her homework and made all the A's "Oh the places you'll go!" "All the lives you will change!" So she tried and she tried and she gave it her all Did she miss all the places? Did she forget to stand tall? Someone misplaced her invite Surely there was a seat for this girl Were her efforts unnoticed? Did her destiny unfurl? She is such a good girl Yes we love her, we do! But her volume was too much Someone quick! Press MUTE Back to her corner straight and in line Stay tuned, just wait it is almost her time ***author's note: this is not the original text for The Volume. If you would like to read the original, message me and I will be happy to send it to you. There are so many reasons a person should change jobs. I am going to discuss ALL the reasons a person should change jobs, and then I will discuss the specific reasons that I changed jobs after 15 years with a company. You should probably change jobs if:
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