Category: Prompts

Yes!

I solve problems of various different types for all sorts of people. It’s challenging and dynamic – i don’t really get bored.

Now, that’s not to say that every day is full of metaphoric cookies, puppies and rainbows. I have bad days, long days, frustrating days, days when i wish i could resort to violence – that’s just part of living as a human being. But overall, i love my job. I also understand how lucky i am in that regard, and am grateful.

Closing a chapter in your life can be bittersweet, or it can be exhilarating, but it can also be obscured by the events that turned that last page…

Such is the case with me. Due to circumstances far outside the realm of my control, i left the innocence and relative feelings of safety that come with childhood far too early. At the time, i had no concept of what closing a chapter of your life even meant, much less realize that that was what was happening.

I was a precocious little girl – an old soul, my grandmother would say. perhaps that’s why i didn’t notice my childhood waving at me, teary eyed, as i walked away. Of course i didn’t notice something as “insignificant” as my childhood – there were more important things that needed to be done to help my family. I could get back to playing and imagining after, when everything was back to normal… right? Wrong. oh, how very wrong. the blissful days of running around in a sun shower, Saturday morning cartoons, and playing hide and seek or Miss Mary Mack all disappeared in the blink of an eye, and I didn’t even know it had happened.

Later in life, i had to deal with and process this goodbye, and it was hard. Probably one of the hardest things i’ve ever had to do for myself. Even years later, i was wholly unprepared for it and the emotions that came with it, most of which i had thought i had buried deep enough that I’d never have to deal with them again. Oh, the charming ignorance of childhood…

Oh my, where to begin….?

I would tell her to speak kindly to herself, even if she misses a goal she set. Failure is merely a learning experience – a chance to do better next time. It is not a condemnation of her worth or skill.

I would tell her that reactions are bullshit. A thoughtful response is far greater than a knee jerk reaction.

I would tell her that compassion, sympathy and empathy are important, but that no level of any of them makes you responsible for or capable of managing someone else’s emotions, nor do they obligate you to please anyone.

I would tell her that life is hard, but in most cases, you get to choose which hard you have to deal with, especially if you make that choice early enough.

I would tell her that not only is she a descendant of stardust, but that the fact that she even exists is a statistical miracle, and she would do well to honor that fact.

I would tell her that other people are entitled to their opinion, but that that opinion is nothing compared her opinion of herself.

I would tell her to be herself – say the weird thing, take up space, rant about her passions. If other people don’t get it, that’s fine. Find the ones that do.

I would tell her that the nonsense she obsesses over most likely had no lasting impact on anyone else – they are all too busy obsessing over their own foibles.

I would tell her to trust her gut, and that little voice in her head that whispers oh so faintly.

i would tell her that treating anyone else better than she treats herself is an act of betrayal and should not be tolerated.

Having said all that, would she listen? Would she take the advice of someone who knows better? Who knows? She was a stubborn thing for sure!

Bullshit conversation and small talk.

Politics and/or history (with some exceptions).

Waiting longer than i should have to for an appointment.

Writer’s/Artist’s block. (this is more frustrating than boring, but boredom is definitely a factor depending on the length of the block)

Being stuck in traffic.

If someone else wrote a biography about me, they could call it anything they wanted. It could be Bob Smith’s Life Story. Not fitting, realistic or sensical, but still. Anyway, the first thing that came to my mind as to what someone else would consider a fitting title was this….

The Wayward Pilgrim

Like so many other things, i find myself caught between opposing sides of myself, each with wildly different ideals.

On one hand, i want a small, cozy house full of nooks and mysteries. A root cellar and an attic crawl space where roly-polys and spiders lurk in the shadows and tell each other secrets. A kitchen just big enough to move about in freely but not so big that you can’t get from one side to the other in two or three steps. Rustic, dark fixtures – lighting, plumbing, decorative. A fireplace in the living room hugged on either side by bookshelves. Windows with dark shutters and warm, dim lighting or candles throughout. A backyard with a soft hill, and a stream behind the house.

On the other hand, I want a spacious ranch type house with lots of natural light. Large kitchen with a butcher block, hanging pots and pans rack, and a short breakfast bar with stools to one side. Stainless steel appliances and fixtures, complimented with darker counters and floors. Instead of standalone bookshelves, this house would have a library in a separate room, with a big, cushy armchair for reading. Skylights. A large bay window with a daybed overlooking the back yard, which is edged by forest.

These things that i’ve described are just the houses – structures with particular aesthetics. What really makes a home is the love that dwells there. For that, i would need two things, regardless of style. Dogs and an art/writing studio. I can’t say which, because I dream of each at different times, but these are my dream homes.

Since I was a kid? Riding bikes. Roller coasters. Catching frogs, toads and tadpoles. Painting rocks. Having tea parties with my imaginary friends…. Growing up can have that effect, i suppose.

As an adult, the answer is a bit more complex, because though I cycle through different topics, i have never outgrown my love of learning. And i didn’t lose interest in drawing, but I did let it fall off my top priority list.

Like many other things, the day to day nonsense can crowd out the things that make your heart sing… if you let it, that is.

The answer to this question really depends on when you ask the question. Before the age of 17, I wanted – at different times – to be an astronaut, a paleontologist, a vet, a doctor. So yeah, sciency something or other it seems.

Since 17, I’ve wanted to be a trauma surgeon, a tattoo artist, a drummer, a philosopher, an anthropologist, a diagnostician, a physicist, a technical writer, a certified financial advisor, a neurobiologist, an author, a think tank member, an independently wealthy, off grid intelligent recluse… I mean, pick a freakin lane, right?

I don’t know that i have a dream job. i want to be happy and fulfilled, and that doesn’t necessarily include a job – dream or otherwise. At this point, professionally speaking, I am happy. I love my job, though it has its difficult days just like anything else. Would I or will I change my professional path? I have no idea, but I’m certainly interested to see how things progress!

I’m going to assume that this question refers to physical places, not my mind…because that would top the list if it did.

Aside from those things with sentimental value, I, just like most adults in the world, have things stashed in various places that I don’t need, don’t use, and kept simply because I thought they would be important or useful at some point in the future. During a recent “clutter purge” I found notes and forms related to a bank account that has been closed for the better part of ten years.

Truth be told, I have been making an effort to remove things from my environment that have no use or sentimental value. Old notebooks from work, items I obtained with the intention of using them but never did, trinkets that I thought were “freaking awesome” forever ago, but really are just crap. It’s actually serving to tame the daily level of anxiety that I experience, which is an unexpected benefit. My environment is not, has never been and will never be hospital-grade organized, to be clear. Even at its best, my mind is too chaotic for that.