I have so many excuses for why I haven’t written for my blog as often as I would like.
I hurt my shoulder. Broke a fingernail so low I can’t hit the computer keys very well. I have writer’s block but not the usual block where I would look at a blank screen and freeze. It’s that I have so much to write about and my grasshopper brain takes over and…… the end.
Even the book I’m writing. Nada.
However, that will change as my IT man (and grandson), Aidan, has installed Dragon Voice so in a few weeks I’ll be at it again. All those excuses are valid except for the truth, which is, I just couldn’t do it. I was caught up with things I can’t change, and they immobilized me.
Then the feeling most writers suffer with, which is very few responses to whatever they write. I am truly not alone with that. It puzzles me that some people manage to get their essays/blogs/articles out in the world. I suppose I need a manager. This is what I decided to do with this blog – write about some of the things I have observed and have happened to me and going on from there. So, before you read this, understand that the grasshopper rules. At this point I don’t know what on earth is going to come out. I believe I need a manager – any suggestions?
First, I have gratitude. So many people have given me ideas on how to get moving. The ever brilliant Patricia Gallagher had advised me on writing and even though I have had three books published, one in Chinese of all things – it was a long time ago and circumstances were different. I had my lovely office in Willow Grove, which was more like a sitting room, and Lydia my secretary and John my muse. I had a radio show, which meant advertising wasn’t necessary since I was speaking nationally and internationally and was completely spoiled that I never had to promote myself. At my stage in life I truly am lazy!
Patricia Gallagher is one of the most adventurous women I know. She is the Flower Lady, if you have heard of that activity, and she is much more than that. She created the Angel Pins and is a published author herself. She drives into the city of North Philadelphia at times with her 95 year old friend Ellen, (whom I was honoured to meet recently), and distributes flowers to people hanging at the corners. Amazing.
She doesn’t care because she is on this earth to distribute joy. She came up with some ideas. I told her I was being blah – even my wonderful Jody has given up on pushing me. I am sure you can appreciate my dilemma – laziness.
These are some of the changes since I last wrote. Some are very mundane, and others are earth moving.
There was a leak in my kitchen floor (instead of my $40 bill, it was $180!) so I had a new floor installed. At that point I decided that I wanted the brown cupboards removed and a brighter colour painted. I thought of purple at one time and the painter suggested that although it was all right in the bathroom, the kitchen might be a little overwhelming.
Hmmmmm, I thought, so I decided on bright yellow – two shades in fact, like sunshine. Some of my friends remarked at how lovely it was and then there were other comments.
“‘I never saw you as a yellow person.”
“You need a small table and chairs in here.”
“The pale yellow is okay. I don’t like the brighter colour.”
“Really? You chose these colours yourself? (no, I’m a friggin’ idiot who is colour blind!)”
The rest were similar.
These remarks took me back to my marriage and extreme codependency. When I got married in 1956 my husband was an architectural designer for businesses in malls. I never chose as much as a teaspoon….EVER.
When I was divorced (yea, yea hip hooray) I moved to a lovely little house and again, wanted a new floor. I went to the tile shop and drove the man nuts. I couldn’t make up my mind. I was there for two hours until I chose three possibilities. He began to breathe normally until he asked, “Which would you like?”
I replied that I had to call my sons, who at that time were still living at home. He plonked himself down on a chair and yelled, “Choose a tile lady!” At which point I did! Now you know how great I am with people who are codependent. I used to be the worst kind, so I know.
I’m astounded at how people speak their thoughts and do not listen to others. It seems there is no longer free speech and people don’t know how to agree to disagree.
I have some friends who have a different political preference to me. I tell them that I do not discuss religion or politics especially with those I care about. That doesn’t work anymore. I have never removed people from Facebook (except myself when I need a break) although I have been shunned by several people.
Hey – toxic is toxic, and it is no longer a part of my life.
I made a brief statement about the assassination in Iran was it? Very brief. Something like, “We shall see what happens.” I was asked by someone, “WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?” This was followed up with a lengthy tirade on my attitude.
Then a man wrote, also indicating there was something wrong with me, and that he would be willing to travel to a war torn country with me and that when the troops came to rescue us he would advise them not to bother with me as I didn’t understand.
After that I received an unkind remark, like “Yvonne Kaye is in LaLa land. Whenever there are conflicts there is always a call for the troops to be sent to the rescue. I can only assume that she has never served (I think she wrote that no one I knew did either, but I can’t be sure) and some other stuff. OOPs! That’s where the phrase came into my brain which I use often – DON’T MISTAKE MY KINDNESS FOR WEAKNESS. I informed her that assuming is not a good thing and proceeded to write the following.
“14 members of my family fought in combat in WW2. One died in Dunkirk, another in the Royal Air Force was killed shortly before his 21st birthday. He was my protector as a child, and I miss him to this day. Another much loved cousin was taken prisoner by the Japanese and sent to Camp 39 pictured in the film The Bridge Over the River Kwai, returning weighing 110 lbs. at 6’2” tall. My beloved John lied about his age and joined the Royal Navy going directly into combat at 17 years old.(I didn’t know him then of course) In London seven uncles who were taxi drivers during the day became ambulance drivers, fire fighters. air raid wardens and Home Guards when London and other major cities were burned to the ground. I don’t know how many times I was almost killed and was bombed out twice, sent away without a word only to return when the bombing was at its worst. We were hungry, homeless and very scared until some amazing people took us in, and it is those people who made me who I am today.”
There was a lot more and then the man apologised to me most graciously and asked, “If you went through all this how it is that you do not respect the military”.
To paraphrase, I told him that was another misconception because I hate war but will defend the warriors, that I volunteer working with veterans, etc. That brought another apology from him and then two others said what a great man he was – no apologies from them to me.
I took this all to heart and what it did was strengthen my resolve to do what I have to do in this world and not be concerned at those who have never suffered war in their own country. I hope they never do.
It also revived my enormous respect and love for those who served from my family. Some of them were women serving in the WAAF – The Women’s Auxiliary Air Force. The way hatred has risen in this world is what I saw as a child so backing down isn’t something I do.
hold onto this stuff and using my humour as usual I have purchased three
stickers for the back of my car. I’ve had the Royal Navy sticker for a while,
for John and have now ordered the Royal
Airforce and the British Army. Hah! Makes me feel better. The only challenge is that I don’t have any more room on the back of my car. It makes me feel more like an eccentric and that’s one of my goals. Who said that? I can hear you. Someone said – you already are! The voices are working, and they don’t scare me anymore.
The very first blog post I ever wrote was regarding politics and the void they create. In that blog I wrote, “I will never let politics come between me and the people I love.” And so, it is.
I do admit that the state of the world does disturb me somewhat. It is global. The way the politicians have behaved in Australia with these ghastly fires is disgusting, much the way the statement was made that the fires we have here was due to mismanagement. Give me a break. IT’S GLOBAL WARMING FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE.
Look, I have an outsized sense of justice, which had gotten me in trouble for years. The tragedies over the years have been prolonged because of silence. This is what gives me hope today. The American people are not silent. They are criticized for their protests by some. Why I wonder? Because they are making their feelings known that scientists are crucial, that facts are facts and misconstruing them is creating havoc with the environment.
I must admit that I have been very angry at this downright stupidity because that is what it is and together with ignorance and power hungry attitudes this is a crisis. The stress caused pain in my shoulder, neck and back, so this is what I did – I went to an Acupuncturist. Smart move. This decision has changed my attitude to life.
Let me tell you about the Acupuncturist. His name is Dr. Ian Cyrus. Look him up. Eastasianmed.com. Amazing.
I have been to others before and a friend told me about him, so I took a chance. She is in remission from cancer, but the meds are causing major discomfort and pain. He helped her with that.
First, part of his history. He was an active Marine for six years, 22 years in the FBI and now is a Buddhist Priest or something like that. He has been in every kind of martial arts since he was very young and is dedicated as I have not seen in too many people. Because of Dr. Cyrus, I have a serenity I haven’t known for years. Currently I am studying Buddhism and my attitude change is remarkable.
The simplicity of this is what I learned from the programme I have been in for 49 years – acceptance and living in the moment. It has intensified since treatment began and I have never felt even a pinprick from any of the needles. I don’t know what he does but it is astonishing. When I asked him what I should read so I could grasp the philosophy he told me to get The Idiot’s Guide to Buddhism. I wasn’t expecting that! What a relief. So, I am very grateful for this introduction to something that makes sense to me. All this means is that at last I am caring for myself.
People like Joe Weldon, Dr. Michael Kaye are very special men and help me enormously. Look them up too.
Be well and prosper.