Some days as I walk around I feel scattered. My mother in law, the psychologist (no, seriously, by profession she actually really is one, okay, okay, I know all the jokes coming… how perfect for me… etc.. lol.) and more recently one of my most valued friends… might call it compartmentalizing. But in a way, it is even more than that. Not just in a way of different feelings I am feeling and from what aspects of my life, they are coming from but a little more abstract than those different places where I find love and sadness and hope and joy…

I don’t know, maybe I am finally going crazy but sometimes I feel as if I am just the carrier of my soul. I mean, I get that my heart and liver and brain… and every other important organ come along for the ride… but there have been days that I have been so disconnected from “me” that I have felt like I am air traffic control, looking out as my eyes kind of navigate “me” around as I go on my daily journey.

I am tired. So very tired. And I know that though, this is not true at all, I sometimes, feel that there is not much more to my life than working a job to just pay the bills. Yesterday, I took two cold pills. One had broken, so I took another. So all in all I took two and a half and it knocked me for a loop. I had to leave early, and go to bed. I slept for seven hours I was down for the count.. Though this was not planned, it made me more aware of the way I kind of just check out in my life. (And pleeease, NO lectures, I learned my lesson!)

Today, I feel drugged and wiped out but a little better. Cold-wise.  I am sure I needed the rest. I guess my point is that I miss a lot of the joy when I just let my life go on auto-pilot.  I think that I have been doing that a lot lately. But yesterday, before my self induced drugged coma happened… I learned an amazing thing and almost missed out on it….

There is a young boy that I work with. He has an incredible story. (And by now you know, that I am all about everyone’s “story.”)  He was an orphan from Russia. He is quiet and I guess if I had to describe him in one word, it would be gracious. He is grateful for everything he has and it is humbling to be around somebody who never complains or talks bad about others, who always has a smile and is patient and kind to even the most frustrating customers. And over the months I have grown to know him. I have not found a glitch in the grace he exemplifies. And to make the story even better,  he is by no means spoiled, but lives a privileged live in comparism to where he came from and remembers it all and so he is grateful for everything and his attitutude is refreshing.

I think that the kids I work with truly like me. At least I hope they do.  I know that they don’t forget me. I most likely, am a character in their memory that will remain and hopefully they will smile when they are my age… remembering me. I ask a lot of questions. They know it is because I am a writer and I am genuinely interested and care, so they all have slowly opened up. And I have been blessed by their trust.

This young man has been different. His story is different. The questions I have asked have been much more sensitive. I have been more careful and respectful in waiting and letting him share rather than barging in and asking. And the most amazing friendship has formed. I told him that he has a wonderful story. I never truly knew if he heard me when I said that because he just smiles a lot. I told him that everyone has at least one “book” inside of them but he has something even more valuable in his memories, an amazing story many others would be interested in hearing and that writing it all down might even be a kind of therapy for him.

writing in a notebook

Yesterday, I noticed in my haze,  that he was seriously writing and writing in a notebook during the slower times at work. Finally I had to ask. “What are you writing?” Never dreaming he had even really listened to what I said in our conversations many weeks earlier. Until…. he turned to me and said… “I am taking your advice and writing it all down.” Perhaps it was something he had heard on the news recently about Americans not being allowed to adopt from the Russian Orphanages any longer that prompted him to consider my advice but it made me realize that no matter where I am, I can still make a difference.

“I am taking your advice” Five little words that changed my day. And my outlook on how I view each new one….

Each day is an opportunity  to make a difference where ever God has me… and whatever job I might be doing.

19 thoughts on “Where ever we happen to be, we can make a difference

    1. I love it here because most readers or writers on these blogs understand the passion of writing. Not so much in my reality, I have encouraged people to write and gotten a lot of wierd responses…. And I get it… my mom has tried to get me to learn how to knit for years…. it is just not my thing. And I just don’t feel that passion to knit that scarf and don’t really feel that everyone has a blanket inside of them ready to be knitted! (though I appreciate the talent of those who do!) But everyone has “a story” worth telling and it just baffles me that they don’t want to. Isn’t that what it’s all about? But like knitting… to each his own… but it is so much more than knitting… ya know? lol.
      When my daughter went away to drama school, luckily she loved to write as well and so she thrived but a lot of kids had no idea how much writing was involved… researching characters, interpretations, reviews, etc… a lot didn’t make it past the first year, even if they had talent in acting… but they didn’t like writing. To me I don’t understand it…but I GET that it is not everyone’s thing. So when this kid not only listened to what I said but took my words and applied them… it was pivitol for me and made me re-think my outlook on how I can make a difference… maybe not in a job “title” maybe just by example… ya know?
      Thanks for reading my little story of the day! 🙂

      1. Hi Diane,
        I just discovered how to find all the missing replies to my comments, like this one! Hehe, my mum thought I should sew clothes but I only sew soft furnishings. That’s so interesting about drama students having to write. It’s like singers now having to write songs – it’s not enough that they have a beautiful voice. So much more is expected these days. I’m like you, I am baffled by the fact that none of my friends or family or acquaintances blog (or read mine). Seems so obvious to write. And THAT is why are ARE writers Diane. We can shout it out 🙂

        1. I just found this reply cuz someone LIKED this from my archives! And saw your reply! We keep missing each other! I am in LA doing a retail buying trip for the spa and so just signed on here for a second… Thanks for always being around! I love it!

  1. I so understand and empathize with you..My energy level is rather low this week, maybe over work, not enough color, who know.. thank you for this post and reaffirming HE will set things right..
    Happy almost weekend to you!!

    1. Thank you for reading it~! I know… the low energy can really effect our spirit!… I might as well be in a bucket of mood. I used to look forward to the next event or party… now….My highlight of the day is coming home. WHEN THE HECK did I turn into my mother?

  2. We can always make a difference, Di, and sometimes it only takes a well placed word or a smile. Other times require a little more effort, but worth it.

  3. Nice story Di. I live for those moments of making a difference. I have found a blog on adoptions that look at adoptions from all sides. One point I noted was the article ‘Somewhere Inbetween’ where an Asian adoptee didn’t feel Asian and didn’t feel American, but somewhere inbetween. And possibly this is where this boy is at. I think writing it all down is great therapy and advice! I hope he is close to his ‘forever family’. If either of you want to check look at: for others views on adoptions.

    1. Thanks for stopping by~ And thanks for the link! My friend has an amazing story that I am just now learning about. He is grateful to his parents and though remembers, I don’t think misses anything about where he came from. His sisters were adopted first and he was left behind and then when his dad realized there was a brother, he was nine years old and he remembers his dad going back to get him and being retained and in front of him said; “I am not leaving without my son.” That father can do no wrong in his son’s eyes… over ten years later. You can imagine the story. He wants me to help him once it is all written down!!!!

      1. That is an amazing story. I can’t imagine being in those circumstances. Its great you can be a resource for him. Luanne, at the web site I sent, could be another resource for youif you need one. her kids are grown and spent alot of her time on issues like this it seems. Nice work!

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