The End

Just wanted to share with all of you who have follwed this project that I am finally letting you know that I think that I have finished my book!

keris journal

Keri felt as if the air was being siphened from her lungs as she swallowed, trying to breathe. Her head pounded as she tried to filter out the background noise. The pain was the kind  you feel that stings when something smacks you in the face. It was a surprise, so unexpected. She closed her eyes as she tuned out the voice booming somewhere in her head. There were no blows. Nothing physical about it, except for maybe when he yanked her arm. But that was not the pain she was feeling now. It was the humiliation and the shame. It happened more often now, and lasted longer and it exhausted her.

 

They’d been driving. It was a beautiful morning. Their day began with passionate love making and Keri believed that today would be a good day. They’d just been laughing minutes before. And then like a ball in her face, things turned, Jack’s…

View original post 253 more words

You had the power all along my dear

There are rules in life. There are loyalties that we choose and disregard. There are boundaries that we must set and discipline we must follow. As parents we teach our kids right from wrong. In life we have to give up things to gain others. Professionally, we hire and sometimes have to fire, we have guidelines that make life much easier if we insist on consistency.

Standing by our scruples, may not always earn us popularity but in the end, doing the right thing makes us win. In my life, I’ve wanted everyone to like me. I wanted to be everyone’s best friend. Favorite Aunt, Cousin, Granddaughter, Grandma, whatever the title, I needed to be the favorite. My mom used to tell me, “Not everyone liked Jesus.” Her point was, why should I expect more than He had?

I realized a while ago that I was not being true to who I was if I didn’t stand up for what I believed in. If something was being handled in a way that I didn’t agree with, I’d sit on it and wait it out. Nothing is worse than feeling a lack of validation and manipulated in feeling wrong about being pretty darn right about something.

I learned a powerful lesson in my recent transition, and it has empowered me! I was right. I won’t go into the details but I will never again allow someone to take the power away from me. What did I  gain from this experience? Perhaps to be a voice to those still stuck. Where ever you are, in a job, in a relationship, in a goal… Only you can find your own yellow brick road. As Glenda said to Dorothy…”You had the power all along my dear.”

My dream job would be to just write someday. So I know I am not there yet and may never get to do exactly what I invision as the perfect job. But I do know that I am happy now. I am working hard and really do enjoy what I am doing. I work with amazing people and look forward to everyday. A few years ago, I was diagnosed as being clinically depressed. I just needed to get my butt out of the hole I’d dug for myself. Was I depressed? Heck yeah! I was depressed with the situation. Nothing Organic about being in a situation with dumb people running the show! There are amazing people and there are toxic people. Who do you surround yourself with? People who value you or people who cause you to be in a state of constant depression? Think about it. Only you can change things!

And you my dear have the power to do it! There is no yellow brick road, nor an Oz that is a wizard that can give you courage.  But there is something much more powerful… YOU! And God! And me and God “GOT” this one now!

Who have you given the power to?

Oh little man behind the curtain I have discovered you

You no longer have the control of what I say and do

I am not sure why it took so long to see I had a choice

Perhaps I couldn’t see  behind your magnifed little voice

But slowly I began to see it was nothing but an act

As I began to gather some pretty clarifying facts

I took the power back now and I can clearly see

the power that I believe in now is through God in me!

by

Diane Reed 2015

Pausing

Several years ago, I titled this blog; The One Thing I Know For Sure. Being in my early fifties, and having lived a half a century, I set out to share what it was that I thought was worthy of the time it would take you to read what I wrote. I know how busy all of our lives are and when anyone takes the time to read anything I write, it is like a gift to me. I know your time is valuable and I appreciate every second that you take here, inside my little world! I guess I wanted to share something, perhaps a little wisdom gleamed from my years, and experiences with those younger than me or those evolving, to save them from the same mistakes I’d made.

If you actually go backward and read some of my first posts, I feel like I was still a bit trapped in my cocoon. I am not sure when or why people started reading my ramblings. But as I look back, it took a while for anyone to even find me. I think in the beginning, I was just writing for me. Trying to find myself.  A good friend likened my  recent ephifanies to a butterfly. I find it sad that it has taken me so long to try out my wings.  And now soaring over my life, I wonder, why did it take so long?

I am in a space in my life right now, where I am truly evolving. Where I listen more and pause before speaking. I truly feel that there is an art in the act of pausing, to have someone look at me and feel free to talk because they KNOW that I am reeeally listening. I want to write a story that has this sentence in it: He looked at her and continued telling his story because of the way she listened to him. And I want that character, the one listening, to be me!

I don’t think listening was ever that important to me. I think because I was so unsure of who I was that I never took the time to pause and hear. I was so busy talking, trying to prove who I was or wasn’t. What a waste. What did I miss by not pausing? What did I have to say that was so important?

And as she paused, she learned more than she ever knew! Listening is an art! And that my friends is… The one thing I know for sure!

Most people do not listen with the intent to understand

Most people listen with the intent to reply!!

Stephen Covey

Join me, next time someone is talking to you, really look them in the eye and make them feel that they are really being heard! It is kind of enlightening to see someone’s excitement when they look you in the eye and know you are listening. It’s empowering to listen, to give someone the gift of knowing they are being heard.

in my own skin

“Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.)” Those were words written by Walt Whitman. I read them in one of my literary magazines that I recieve monthly, and it really spoke to me. Recently, I have become more comfortable in my own skin. I may not have understood that sentence a decade ago, but now it sings to me. I am who I am and I am okay.

I think that I have always liked writing because I have a chance to backspace and delete. When I am out there on my own answering questions and making comments, I am not always as funny and as insightful. My words don’t run as smoothly as the ones I write and get to read and then decide if I want to keep them on paper or suck them back with the click of a key. You can’t do that once you “speak” the words that you say, they are just plain out there, no sucking back allowed.

In a weird way, I feel the writer part of me is the real me, like washing your face at the end of the day, the core me is beneath the layers that I rinse away, the words I speak are not always from my soul like the ones that rise up in me that cause me to stop and sit and share even after I’ve worked a 10 hour day and have to turn around and do it all again. It is that part of me that finds that being rich is in the million words still inside of my soul that are there for the taking or the giving.

“Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself.” It is all so simple and yet wildly powerful in the accepting of ourselves. In a way it is like being born again when you finally reach that place where you are comfortable in your own skin.

I’ve Always Remembered

When I started my blog I presented a question in my ABOUT section asking; “How old do you feel right now?” I suppose that I still don’t feel as if I am in my fifties, but slowly I have finally felt like a grown up. It took quite a while, but I’m not a kid in my head any longer. I do feel that I have experienced enough of life to contribute wisdom and a resource of memories to draw from to offer some kind of worthy advice and to have valid opinions about things that come up in life.

I think that because I’ve had such a clear memory from so far back, it has always been hard to feel a certain age. When I was a very small baby, I remember lying in my grandma’s bedroom by the window in a crib that had a raised mattress, the kind that you put a baby that can’t stand up yet in. It still blows me away that the memory is so clear. And then I remember standing up in what they called a bunting in a crib in my own bedroom. I remember getting potty trained, and I remember when my Aunt had to change my diapers and how mortified I was, or as mortified as a two-year old might feel!

I remember sitting on the counter baking with my mom, I remember going to Sunday school when I was in pre-school. I remember getting very sick and having to go to the hospital for a long time because of some infection called nephritis that attacked my kidneys and by the time I got out, all my friends had their training wheels off of their bikes! And my grandpa teaching me how to ride a two-wheeler!

I remember favorite teachers and mean teachers, I remember conversations with friends, I remember Christmases and birthdays, I remember getting up on Saturdays and watching cartoons and then going out and playing all day until the street lights came on. I remember sledding in the winter and coming home and watching The Wizard Of Oz. I remember digging a hole with some boys in the neighborhood one summer and making a fort we could actually stand up in! I remember planning neighborhood clubs and carnivals. I remember slumber parties and spending the night at friends and falling in love with boys.

I can stand in the shower now and a million memories can run through my head, weaving me into who I am today. I guess my biggest point is that now that we are adults, with kids in our lives, what kind of memories are we making for them? I tried to make memories for my kids and now my grandkids. I hope more good than bad. Some children may remember like me. Some of them may not remember a lot but it makes you realize how important making memories are. Whether it is just the experience you are sharing at the time, or the ones that they will carry with them for a lifetime.

How far back can you remember? I’d love to hear about your memories!

I Remember

I remember the smell of fresh cut grass, and watching cartoons at the crack of dawn

I remember our dad’s hanging out in the garage, after they’d cut their lawns

I remember hopscotch and roller skates, and running home when the street lights flickered

I remember slumber parties, favorite teachers, and the mean one that used to snicker

I recall getting sick and a summer lost, and I also remember getting well

I remember talks with my dad, and the things he’d give me, to share for show and tell

It seems like a lifetime ago, though my memories are still very clear

Some I wish I could forget, and some will always be quite dear

Sometimes I long for those remembered days, when it all just seemed so carefree

And yet I’ve learned that even today, will someday be tomorrow’s memories.

Diane Reed 2015

It Doesn’t Matter Anymore

Like a vapor in my past

or a thought that doesn’t last

it all comes and goes so fast

dancing inside my mind

all the things I’ve left behind

seek and you shall find

though better to let go

to not always have to know

to leave everything just so

it doesn’t matter anymore

don’t need to settle any score

I’ve finally shut the door.

Diane Reed

2015

“The turning point in the process of growing up is when you discover the core of strength within you that survives all hurt.”

― Max Lerner