Sep 202022
 

She was not my Queen and aside from a fascination at the whole idea of a monarch and the royal family, I have no vested interest in Queen Elizabeth II of England. Yet… I have followed her passing and the pomp that has surrounded the process of allowing her physical body to finally rest with those of her family.

What amazes me, aside from the impressive ceremony that the English have put together for the first time in over 70 years, is the pause of the world to show respect for her life and legacy.

We have been witnessing history. We have been witnessing the end of an era, a standard, a balance of role and duty as held by a leader of the free world. It is also the end of a female monarch for the somewhat foreseeable future in the UK. So, as we have seen the world begin to shift, we also feel it embodied in the loss of her Majesty’s presence. Now, we can only hope that what she inspired is not quickly forgotten amidst egos, power struggles, and the pursuit of fame and fortune.

I would have liked to have known her. I think that who she presented to the world was just a small window into who she was behind closed doors. Although she was but a mere mortal, I imagine that she would have been hard to find fault with in her humanity – but perhaps that is just the unrealistic, now irrefutable, ideal that I apply to the little I know about her.

In any case, while I have not really ever had a list of those whom I’d like to meet one day, I think I do now.

Until then, rest in peace, Your Majesty.

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Sep 152022
 

All I can think about right now is how I want to be like the puppies, stretched out on the sofas comfortably snoozing away. πŸ˜΅β€πŸ’«

With a late-ish bedtime (for me) last night after a couple of evening video calls and a 9pm start webinar, I had already altered the biorhythms for the night. Then, a 4:20ish abrupt awakening to the thunder, lightning, wind, and massive downpour jolted me 😳 out of whatever dream I was in.

Whenever I am in the middle of a dream and rudely taken out of it, I am never right the following day. I’m sure it is normal, but I’ve always been this way – thus, also why I absolutely hate to be woken up by others. 😑

So, the storm triggered my brain to run through a mental checklist πŸ€” of whether or not all the doors and windows were shut around the house. Since it is still warm, we tend to forget about one or the other being opened for airflow. Luckily, the cleaner had been yesterday and everything had been closed up afterwards. Still, I ended up getting up to check everything as I was home alone.

Assured that all was closed up, I was able to take a few moments to watch as the sky lit up and listen as the rain poured down before trying to return to sleep. It took a bit of help from a book, but eventually I went back to sleep from 5 to about 6:30, when some noise again woke me. My drowsy state 😡 was not eager to be shaken off, but an inner voice shouted that I needed to get up for the animals. With that, I forced myself out of bed, made the bed to avoid getting back in, and started the day.

Between feeding the cats and then the dogs, taking the dogs for a walk, doing training with the dogs, having some breakfast, coffee, etc. and then trying to settle down into a creative writing state, I am still fighting with the voice and my body that is whispering – “…that sofa is soft, the puppies look warm and sweet, wouldn’t it be nice to curl up with them and have a cuddly nap…?”

Alas, I am using my willpower to give myself a 3pm reward of that coveted nap. Until then, I will write. Even if it is about the thing I want most at this moment – sleep 😴. Even if it is only a few sentences on my novel. I will write.

So, this is written – on to the next! πŸ€ͺ

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Sep 132022
 

On an individual basis, humans can cause a feeling of great respect – like for the late Queen of England – or grave disappointment. Recently, I lamented a sense of discouragement in the actions of someone I know. Yet, I haven’t quite figured out the root of why I feel this way.

Truthfully, I hardly know this person. She is really barely more than an acquaintance despite her long friendship with M. However, after investing quite a lengthy period of time in conversations with her during a visit this summer, I somehow started to feel a sort of kinship with her. Despite our age difference, it was clear through discussions that it is not the number of years that defines one’s maturity or knowledge of life, but more about experiences and an ability to learn from them that gives us the wisdom and courage to alter the repetitive tendencies we have to make the same mistakes or stand in the way of our own life’s evolutions to a happier existence.

These days, with the #MeToo movement, defense of women’s right to have a say over their bodies, ongoing battle for gender equality, and the like, it is important to support one another to feel empowered, independent, and courageous to show that humanity is not based on our gender identification.

However, breaking generational barriers that have brainwashed a section of society to believe that women need men or that happiness can only be found in a perceived companionship despite what may go on out of the prying eyes of others is something I do acknowledge as not easy. Still, I feel it a duty and responsibility for those who come after us to make an effort to raise the standards rather than succumbing to an arbitrary, unreliable, ever-changing status quo.

So, let me be more specific about this particular situation.

A self-made, hard-working, successful woman who raised two children mostly on her own is still seemingly feeling the need to define herself with a relationship. A relationship with someone that NO ONE who has met him whom we know likes. A relationship that she, herself, has questioned, let go of, and ranted about from early on. A relationship with so many red flags that one wonders when the other shoe is really going to drop to reveal what many of us believe to be his hidden true nature. A relationship that, in accordance with the last time we had spoken, was over – much to our relief and support.

Then, thanks to, or unfortunately because of, a social media post, we discover that he is back in her life smiling away and looking ever-so-smug that he has once again snaked back into position where he can continue, what I personally believe, is his long game into conning her into helping himself to her money, house, etc.

Let me be clear – I do NOT think he is a nice or good person. I do NOT think he has the best intentions. I DO think he is deceptive and ruthless. But, hey, who am I?

And, that is the crux of it.

It is not my opinion, nor even those others who all have similar opinions, that matters in the end. It is her life and her decisions; and our job, generally, is not to judge but to support what she does according to what she feels is best.

Or, is it?

So, this is my contemplations of late. I will likely not see her again for many years. After all, it had already been about five or six since I first met her. Therefore, what she does and who does anything with has basically no bearing on my life whatsoever. Thus, that voice shouts out “Stay out of it! It’s none of your business, lady!”

But…

There’s that other voice, the one that wants the world to be more just and right. The one that wants humanity to be better and for individuals to actively work on evolving into their greatest potential. The one that expects more and continues to raise standards – because we all can (including myself, before you think I’m on a hypocritical soap box) do more and be better. The one that believes that we should not encourage nor condone the behaviors of those whom we know in the deepest, darkest parts of minds and souls are not up to snuff.

Thus, this post of pondering and pontification.

In the end, I cannot do anything. I did express my disappointment and then removed myself from having to see any further of her sharings with him – for that is my prerogative. My hope is that we are all wrong about him, and that he will turn out to amaze all of us with his genuineness and love for her. Perhaps, I will then be able to just blame my current sentiments on my obsession with true crime and an overactive imagination.

Only time will tell.

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Sep 082022
 

For as long as I can remember I have had a very unattached mentality towards the idea of mortality. Perhaps due to the forced acceptance of loss at an early age, I have always kept a logical and unemotional view of death – for death is just a loss of the presence of someone from our lives.

Still, to be fair, I have not had to face the actual death of many who are near and dear to me. I remember my first experience being my last foster father who shot himself when faced with having to be held accountable for his heinous acts against young girls. While I was very sad about his death, I had already detached myself from the idea of him and so it did not touch my core. However, I am certain that I saw him in my sleep on the plane as we returned home from an east coast visit at the time that would match the moment in which he took his own life.

The next death was the sudden loss of the father of my childhood best friend whose passing left us all in shock, and severely rattled the lives of his immediate family for years. I felt his disappearance from this world deeply, but perhaps my frustration at having been iced out of the mourning process with my friend and her family where I had thought I had a second home helped me to cope with the grief initially. It has only been in the past year or so that he said a final good-bye and stopped regularly visiting me in my dreams.

That same year, my maternal grandfather also left us in the physical world, but I saw him for many months in my dreams until I felt sure that he was in a better place, and that he was OK enough for us to wave good-bye to one another with a final “With my looks and your brains, we’ll go far” from him.

Next came my grandmothers and while sad, especially as I didn’t get to see them much due to choosing a life abroad, I felt OK with their passing as life had been long and full for them. I have always believed that when one dies from age, then it is acceptable so that mourning is not so much required. Still, both visited me briefly in my dreams, but I was able to say good-bye to them easily knowing they were in a good after life.

Recently, a former TIUA student (Japanese exchange student of the sister university to Willamette) passed away seemingly because of C19. I hadn’t seen him in years, but he was always a smiling guy with a warm attitude towards me and others. His wife posted on his FB account about his death and I found myself moved by the loss of his spirit in this world. I will likely not dream of him, but it does make me stop to ponder this life and those remaining in it.

The most obvious concern is for my parents. They are no longer young and though I like to think of them as active and vibrant, I am well aware that dementia is a genetic disease, and that the body wears down so that a change is required in accepting the inevitable slower phase of life they shall have to enter sooner rather than later.

My mind is already starting to prepare for the unstoppable end that will eventually come. In doing so, I have realized that my detachment towards mortality does not apply to those who are the closest to me. So, I am mulling this reality over without much joy.

Further, as I type this, I am listening to the live coverage of the potential loss of the Queen of England and it just continues to reinforce this notion of contemplating mortality.

Quite possibly because now I am older and realize that death is not necessarily a welcomed sojourn, I find the idea of losing anyone upon whom I count whether near or far, a heart-dropping and suffocating idea. I suppose it is better that I wrap my head around these things now before I have to face them in real time, but I still welcome distraction….

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Sep 062022
 

**Spoiler alert – If you are watching this series and haven’t yet finished it and don’t want to know what happens before viewing, then skip this post!** πŸ€·πŸ½β€β™€οΈ

Until I watched the final episode of the six-season series, This Is Us, I would have said that my favorite series of all-time is still Little House on the Prairie. The latter did have a longer run and it still stands as one of the best stories ever, but I think my ‘modern-day’ choice is This Is Us. ❀️

First of all, the editing that gives us forward, backward, and current time perspectives of the characters – with sometimes different episodes around the same event but from each character’s point of view – is amazing. The storyline is beautifully put together for each character, overlapping the generations and growth of the individuals. It’s got ups and downs that are so relatable, but finishes with a realistic yet sappy ending. I mean, what more can we ask for over six seasons?

I appreciated the adoption storyline of Randall on a deeper level than if I were not also an adoptee or one assimilated into a culture and family of another race. His biological family search is profound and, for the first time since the adoption of Albert in LHOTP, has not been a strong central storyline in current TV dramas.

The decline of Becca’s mind hit close to him from the dementia of my grandmother to the potential reality that it might be or might happen to one of my own family members since it is considered genetic. The idea that it is a family disease never sunk in until the final season and the story works itself to a core understanding of what I/we may have to prepare for eventually.

The twins are a little less relatable to me, yet I also watched their own paths and journeys into adulthood, maturity, and confidence in navigating this crazy world with the same kind of curiosity and hope that I might with those who are close to me.

The ending was absolute perfection with no loose ends, revisits from previously seen characters, and an idea of the final moments of one who is dying that makes it okay to let them go despite the heartbreak and sadness of those who remain behind.

So, as I continue to process how to all connects and how I feel about what the actors, writers, producers, etc. created I highly recommend watching this show in its entirety, if you aren’t or haven’t already! ❀️

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Sep 012022
 

The hubs and I were discussing our future activities this morning as he has returned refreshed and recharged from the buzz of city life. He has a renewed optimism about all things, which gives a bit of light into being able to discuss and plan our next steps.

We have agreed that country life is still a bit too remote for us as we both like the energy that is found from the city. I noted that one of the reasons that I always like to write in a cafΓ© is because they are almost always full of people coming and going. The joy of sharing a cup of coffee never fails to create a light for inspiration and motivation. Few people are ever unhappy after they’ve gotten their shot of caffeine.

So, with a few things in the works that will release us from the self-imposed prison of not being able to leave our house much, we plan to get ourselves back out into the world where I can have “intellectual” conversations, we can pop in to a local dive for an afternoon drink, and we can walk our dogs on the sidewalks waving our hands to friendly passersby. Knowing that we will always have our “country home” to retreat back to as a home-base will be comforting for both of us, but we are still wanting a bit more adventure and activity – after all I’m still in my 40s!!! πŸ˜…πŸ€ͺ

Thus, stay tuned for how things play out over the next month or so. In the meantime, we have a final month of visitors and plenty of activities going on around town now that the weather has become pleasant again – not too hot, not too cold. Mostly, though, it’s just nice to have some plans forming that are not ridden with guilt and worry. 😬

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Aug 302022
 

Technically I am not alone as my puppies and the kitties are with me, plus there is the constant sound of nature all around, but for the last 24 and next 36 hours I am in the physical presence of no other humans. M has gone away on his own retreat of sorts in Brussels where he will hopefully feel refreshed and energized from his preferred city of choice.

While I have had conversations with people, I am enjoying my solitary way of life. First of all, I am extremely productive when left to my own time schedule and daily activities. It takes me back to the early pandemic lockdown days when M would still be able to go off to work, but I was able to work from home.

There is something very satisfying and comforting to have a space all to myself. For one, I know that the kitchen will stay clean, surfaces devoid of clutter, and items still put in their designated locations. 😬πŸ€ͺ However, even deeper than that is the freedom in knowing that no one is going to come interrupt a thought, or there is no need to negotiate time in how it is spent or things that need to be done. Even words do not need to be wasted. 🀫

As I did my yoga this morning and sat for a few minutes (until the dogs decided it was time for a walk), I acknowledged the need for balance in finding time for and with ourselves as well as with others.

There is no doubt in my mind that I love my married life and sharing time, space, and words with my partner gives me a sense of place in this world. He makes me feel meaningful since I do often question what it is that I am doing in this life. In contrast, as someone who loves being in my own company and head, I am most comfortable on my own lost in my contemplations, creations, and conscious.

Yet, too much of either can create an imbalance.

I feel graced by the fact that the Universe took heed to my list requirements in a partner and put someone who understands the importance of a balance of alone time and together time in my life. Although we are so different in many ways, it doesn’t matter because we always strive to find the middle ground that works for both of us.

So, though, I might complain about this or that when it comes to getting my introverted voice heard by the extrovert in my life, I am definitely not doing so when it comes to enjoying the solitude I get to have for a momentary while longer. πŸ˜…

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Aug 232022
 

The art of expressing through the weaving of nuances and piecing together of words has always been a skill that I appreciate. One reason that I prefer reading or writing over speaking is that time can be spent on the creation and appreciation of the work. Don’t get me wrong, though, if I hear an orator who can wax rhythm and lyric together on the spot, I am in awe.

I just recently finished listening to Atlas of the Heart by BrenΓ© Brown. She outlines the different pieces of language that we should use to describe our emotions. It was both surprising, and not, to learn that most people only use three or four words to express how they feel – happy, sad, or mad. Yet, we have 87 (known) different emotions and actual words to describe them. After all, if we didn’t have the words, how do we know that we have them?

One of my favorite classes in graduate school was one on semantics. We would chart out the different nuances of words that are similar in meaning, but why we choose one over another in a particular expression. Words are important.

When learning languages through DuoLingo, I am fascinated by which words are taught first. One might assume that the first vocabulary is the same, but some thought has gone into the fact that in French I learned how to ask for croissants and baguettes before knowing how to talk about my family. However, in Italian, I learned about family and mealtimes before the actual dishes or items to eat. Words are important.

Words express culture. Words express the norms of a society, group, tribe, etc. Words are important.

I always know a non-lover of words when the phrase, “it’s just semantics!” is thrown out during a disagreement. This usually signals that the person has no more excuses left to justify why they are ‘wrong’, and so when backed into a corner, the only thing left is to accuse the other person of focusing on the wrong thing. Ironically, the accused may actually be trying to understand the person better through the seeming ‘nit-picking’ on the meaning of the words being used.

For me, I prefer that the most accurate words are used for expression. In this way, less room is allowed for misunderstanding or confusion. It is hard enough to communicate well without having to parse out what someone really is trying to say with the wrong words. Since we all come from different groups/families, words are used differently for various meanings; thus, it is all the more important that we create a common understanding of the words that we are using.

In other words, expanding our vocabularies is meaningful and necessary to express ourselves clearly and openly so that peace and order can reign. Or, at least, this is what I believe. πŸ˜…

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Aug 182022
 

It has been a while since I have had the chance to go on a solo writing retreat due to being busy and also being careful with money. πŸ’° As there has been a lot of stress in trying to get the house paid off and my sense of frustration with the whole process, it seemed wise to have a break from the environment for a few days.

Whenever I share that I am away people always just assume that it is a holiday, which it is, to some extent, but really I consider it more like a “work trip”. πŸ’»

In one of our heated discussions about money, I suggested that I should go back to work. We had fewer challenges when I was working full-time as we always knew that we had enough money to pay the bills and I had some sense of control over my own ability to spend on things. These days, I feel like a kid again having to ask for money to go shopping, justify it, and then nag until I get it. I understand why there is reluctance and resistance, but it doesn’t make it easier nor more enjoyable.

Still, as M reminds me, it is really a temporary situation as it is just about getting the house paid off. Our monthly income more than covers our expenditures and M wouldn’t be as stressed if we didn’t have the house hanging over us. Normal people get a mortgage and make house payments, but not us. πŸ€·πŸ½β€β™€οΈπŸ˜¬

So, that aside – as it will work itself out – we agreed that rather than me going back to work as a teacher, I can work to make money as a writer. This is my dream life, really. I travel and I write. Now, I just need to make some money out of it. πŸ˜…

In the end, I have agreed to write another book. While I am plugging along with my fiction novel, which is my main focus for writing on these “work trips”, I am also going to write a book on Umbria, where we have settled. This will be what I work on during the week until it is done. Then, we will see what kind of money we can make from it as M knows how to market it.

Even though I had a massive meltdown recently, I now feel more hopeful and happy with the idea of writing to pay the bills. 😁

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Aug 162022
 

People are a strange lot. I often wonder what other life forms think of these Earth crawlers as I am both amazed and dismayed by my fellow humans.

While I maintain my spiritual beliefs, my greatest faith remains in the power of mankind to have the potential to create the awesome and also total destruction. If one ever needs further proof in the balance of yin and yang, I recommend spending some time studying their fellow humans.

I sit writing this in the Piazza della Signoria in Florence, which borders the Uffizi Galleries where the statue of David resides. Here, in this town, Michelangelo created one of the most beautiful representations of the human form in the early 16th century. Over five centuries later, we see a diverse collection of forms that are considered attractive in the eye of a beholder.

People ramble en masse taking in the remnants of the past in whatever form suits them. Some appreciate through the lens of their cameras. Some learn in group tours following the crowd and flag of their guide. Some singularly wander with eyes toward the heavens unaware of what is below. Some pass by with their heads down not caring about the footsteps of those before.

Yet, what I find dissonant is the idea that some among those who walk by carry the souls of Michelangelo and other artists, inspirers of the future, or whatever new idea takes us into the next century.

While the β€œold” version of me wants to lament at the changed times and suggest there is a lack of appreciation for the beauty that has survived the centuries, the more open-minded part of me is excited and awaits what new beauty shall come forth.

Still, as I consider the state of the world and watch the individuals who stumble by, I question whether my faith is misplaced or if I just need to be a bit more patient for humanity to reveal its highest potential.

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

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