Tag: writing

challenges, change

Letting Go

2chicksandapen

It’s hard to let go of something or someone you have invested so much time, money, mental energy on. A job. A significant other. A sport. A car. A pet. A treasured keepsake.

Unfortunately we all have to let go of people, things or even places for one reason or another. It can be hard. It will be hard. It is hard. Time doesn’t stop but healing of sorts begins. When you let go, there is a release. A release of pain, tears, anger amongst other emotions or feelings.

I am in a letting go phase of sorts. Letting go of things I don’t control. Letting go of things that consume my mental energy. Letting go of stress. Letting go of people who suck the joy out of me. Letting go of places with not so good memories.

Letting go is part of life. Writing for me helps with the letting go process. Sometimes it’s a journal entry. Sometimes it’s a calendar note. It could even be a blog post or a book chapter. As 2022 approaches I am focusing on mindset challenges in blocks of time in which I measure my progress. Some examples are below:

100 days of fitness

50 days of meditation 

25 days of travel

25 days of positive praise

22 days of generosity 

Now I haven’t decided if I am taking up all 365 days or if I’m putting a 2022 spin on my number or if I’m choosing the number 50 as that’s how old I will be in 2022. Or maybe I will do some combination thereof.

Either way I am focusing on me. My progress. My ability to tune out the people, the places, the obstacles of life that are weighing me down or stealing my joy. I’m letting go or cleansing in 2022.

perspective

The Rumor Mill

2chicksandapen

Recently, my name was put through the wringer. I was the subject of the rumor mill. Three different conversations on the same day and they all got back to me.

#1: came in an email “…a group of us were talking about this and…”

It was an unpopular decision I had made. A decision people had known about for weeks that came along with a deadline. Finally, on deadline day, someone decides to let me know that they didn’t like or understand the decision. And, they were speaking on behalf of some unknown group of people as well. Great timing, long after anything can be done about it.

#2 came a couple of hours later…same decision, different group chat, more complaints. Again, I hear about confusion, “I don’t wannas” and so on. Of course, it is all just second hand, so really there’s nothing I can do about it. After the initial complaint, other people in the group chat piled on with things that actually weren’t true. I did go to the adults involved and got an update so I knew what was said. But if a friend hadn’t clued me in in the first place I’d never have known.

Finally, #3… yet another decision I made ruffled some people’s feathers. Feelings got hurt. Actions got misinterpreted. People made assumptions that were wholly untrue. My name kinda got dragged through the mud on this one.

All of these on one day eventually brought me to tears. Most days I can ignore what people think of me. If I find out and it’s negative, I just blow it off it for the most part. I can’t do anything about it.

This day was different. All of these were decisions I made with reasons. I made them with doing the right thing in mind. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone or take advantage.

I am glad I have friends who look out for me. Who keep an ear open for how my name is being used or misused. And who take the time to tell me if it is important.

I’m also thankful for person number one, even if they did speak on behalf of a bunch of people who did not share her courage. I was able to explain myself and my reasons, which then helped her understand. We happened to run into each other later that night, and she thanked me for taking the time to explain. Overall, a win.

As for the others, since I technically didn’t know about either of these conversations I didn’t have the chance to respond. It makes me sort of sad, but what can I do?

Back to not being bothered by what people think or say.

adventure, family, fitness and nutrition

Blue With a Hint of White

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I see an abundance of blue. A sea of Carolina Blue near and far. Maybe some white but far more blue. University of North Carolina blue. That soft powdery-colored blue that is easily recognizable as the UNC symbolic color. Nestled deep in the heart of Tar Heel territory on the UNC campus, it’s hard to miss the waves of blue everywhere.

I am here for an event which involves the wearing of the university colors and uniforms. Trying to find a needle in a haystack is a good reference for finding my kid in the sea of blue jerseys. My child is one of of 400-500 immersed in an elite field experience for the sport of lacrosse, which she loves. Last college event was big but not this big.

Hundreds of highly skilled athletes looking to standout while improving their individual and teaming skills on such a big stage. Such an experience to live through as both an athlete and a spectator.

My lens is clearly the spectator but obviously I couldn’t be more proud of my athlete. Spending hours on the field for days with new faces and personalities. Determining if a college athlete life is for her or not. Learning how to adapt and overcome while avoiding injury as well. Training on and off the field. Fueling the body for competition. Resting the mind amidst finals and semester-end deadlines. Challenging herself to be a better version of her. It’s all relative. It’s a process. It takes dedication, determination and a bit of badassery.

I’m a copilot of sorts. The errand girl. The roadie. The fan girl. It’s still a hard job. Navigating maps, finding fields, lugging gear, packing sustainable food for energy, being prepared for any weather, traveling to unknown places, finding accommodations and so much more. I’m in the muck of it all. I’ll wipe tears if they are shed. I’ll pull out the bandaids when needed. I will snap the all the photos allowed to capture the memories as well. I even deal with the nasty attitude when fatigue sets in and nobody is watching but me. No shame in my game/role.

It’s also funny to wade through the cemetery of bags, sticks, jackets, coats, sweats and so on. Where else could you experience the awkward smell of stinky feet and body odor in the cool crisp air? These are the memories I will cherish no matter how gross they sound in my writings.

Our crazy schedule is not for the weak at heart. We spend many days on the road. We spend time away from family and friends. We wake up early. We get into bed late. We battle rain, snow, wind, cold and heat. All to chase a dream. Her dream at the moment. A dream many may not ever achieve and many may never attempt. This is our journey or path right now. Our time together. Wherever she ends up she will know I supported her dream.

As I wrap up this post I take a deep sigh. Reflecting on how grateful I am to be able to take this walk with her. To support her. To praise her efforts. It’s a one of a kind opportunity for both of us. I share this post to provide a glimpse to others who may not have the opportunity to see this lens of life. 

Fourteen states she has played competitive lacrosse in. The sport of lacrosse has allowed her to meet people and see new places while mastering her performance as a woman in sports. I’m not sure how many more states will be visited as she narrows down her college wish list. 

challenges

Jail Time Revisited

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Recently I had the opportunity to experience a county jail with an added twist. I’ve written about visiting the jail before as a contractor recounting an inside view. I visited the exterior as part of a jail run a few years back that included running the officer obstacle training course (so much fun) and the campus which bordered the barbed wire fences and guard towers. Both experiences were memorable and offered different views of the same place.

Over the past week I had yet another view. An unexpected view. I needed to try to visit an inmate. What started out as a simple endeavor ended up extremely complex. So many things I didn’t know, didn’t expect or just couldn’t wrap my arms around.
the first big blow is no in-person visitors which is the exact opposite of the county website which states visitation Mon-Fri and Sat/Sun for under 18. I guess they are still under Covid protocols even though most other places are not. This was funny in itself as you don’t need a mask to enter the jail but you can’t visit. The next option is a fee- based video visit, but figuring this option out almost requires an IT degree and a lot of patience.

That’s right. Get the app. Download the app. Set up a user ID. Add funds. Upload identification documents to prove who you are. Now wait. Wait until somebody in an office somewhere approves you. This took three days in my case. Once you have access, you can schedule a call. I almost forgot you need to deposit more money for the call and pay more service fees. Just when you think you are at the finish line you have to be patient again. It seems the schedule is not the same day. That means you wait longer and the person inside has no idea how hard you are trying to make contact. Big sigh.

What’s the other option? Send a letter. I was told happy mail is very uplifting. Okay, what’s the address. Well the address you mail to is far away. It has to be sorted to make sure there is no contraband. Well over the holiday, mail delays, etc. would lead me to believe this would be another dead end.

How about a phone call. Can the person make a call? Only if they have money they tell me. How do they get money? Glad you asked. There is a jail ATM. Never seen one of those before. You have to upload your picture, your social security number, address and so much more. Then you can pay money and exorbitant fees. Again, it’s not instant. It takes a day to process and the funds need to be deposited by 8am. That means if you put money in the ATM on Sunday at 4pm the inmate won’t see it until Tuesday after 8am. Delays galore.

Four days it takes to get any form of contact. This provides so much insight into what folks deal with when they are immersed in the jail system. I can’t even imagine if my parent was in jail, how a young adult could handle all the chaos associated with saying hi to somebody who probably needs some extra support during their incarceration.
This experience has taught me I for sure don’t ever want to spend time in jail. I also don’t want to have to visit anyone I know in jail. I like my freedom too much. I like to choose what I do and when I do it. I thought visiting somebody in an assisted living facility was hard in the heart of the pandemic, however I would definitely say visiting a jail is 1000x harder current day. 

With mental health issues challenging society today, it is bothersome to me that inmates lose not only their freedom but their ability to get compassionate care. I define compassion to include communication with willing visitors vs starving them of hope and friendly faces.

In summary, I’d always tell somebody think carefully about actions or inactions that can land one in jail. It’s not a place i’d recommend at all.

perspective

I’m Back

2chicksandapen

I took a writing hiatus. It was just a couple of weeks but that means my funnel is thin. Things could be worse I suppose.

While I was away I was doing a bunch of this, that, the other, and then dealing with some unneeded bullshit. It happens but it sucks when it’s from sources who should just keep their ugliness to themselves.

That statement in itself can be all encompassing.  Unfortunately it’s life. Life has ups and downs. For instance I’ve had some moochers in my life. They have been around for a couple of years now. I’ve exercised patience. I’ve trimmed back on kindness. No matter what olive branch is offered the mooch status remains the same. Take take take. I’m sure after the holidays my patience for ignorance will expire. I can only hope the moochers have a plan. A plan of being self-reliant. Fingers crossed for the moochers.

While I noted moochers above I also deal with a stalker. Not just any stalker. One who creeps. Persistently puts their presence in my path. The sole reason for the stalking is ludicrous at best but I guess I’m that person’s entertainment or fascination. Out of an abundance of caution I change the vehicles I drive. I change my arrival times and locations. I avoid certain places. Hopefully the stalker enjoys my life show but I have no idea why one would be continuing to follow me for so long. It’s a shit show most days but any individual stalking me should know I am well aware of their presence. It’s clear my life is far more interesting than theirs. I’m sure they even read this blog. Oh wait I know they do. Funny, right? Maybe this is a hint to move on. Or more like a subtle nudging to move along.

Oh, my fall travel spots. I’ve hit the cold up north more than once. I headed out west and lived my best ranch girl life. The airports. The car rentals. The hotels. The people in my path. The experiences as a whole were remarkable. I learned. I grew. I laughed. I smiled. I ate way too much. I even shopped til I dropped. No regrets despite being a roadie for many weeks.

Thank goodness for FaceTime. I had many strategic calls but also many puppy chats with my two main ladies. Teddie and Bear were always treated like royalty while I was away and the pet sitters always made times for FaceTime chats. As I sit at the airport waiting on a holiday flight delay I know my girls know I’m on the final leg of my travels and will greet me as soon as I open the door at home. The excitement they will have will be beyond description here. 

Until my next post I will leave you with this tidbit. 2022 is on the horizon. A new year. The pandemic has begun to fade. As the new year rings in I will be shifting my online post writing to pen and paper for my next book series. The muck and crud had us focus more online since early 2020 but as the world shifts so will our brand. Back to the basics. Back to writing. You will still catch a rant here and there online but the bulk will shift to secrecy until you can flip the pages of the next book.

Now the big question is what’s next up? That’s hard to say. Many projects were mid- stream but some sit on the cutting room floor just because they seem so yesterday or pre-pandemic. Or better yet the time before I am the me I am now. 

The me I am today may choose a different creative path than I would have in 2019. A little older.  A little wiser. I little more fascinated about writing for different audiences. Kids books will always hold a sweet spot in my life but so do many other projects. Guess you will have to see what’s next up. Whatever it is it has to fit in with my crazy life that runs on warp speed most days.