Postulating the Creative Process.

It seems that once a year, maybe twice, I will get an insatiable urge to put pen to paper, (or in this case, fingers to keyboard), and let my thoughts flow from my brain down through my fingertips and create a new blog post. This is one of those times.

I have been in a creative stupor for some time now but recently there seems to be something brewing deep within begging to be released. Let me give you an example of what I mean:

late last week I was driving home from work the other day and I noticed the colours. I don’t mean, oh look, there’s a green tree, or a blue sky, or a white pile of dirty snow. I mean hues of all sorts. The different tones. The contrast between dark and light. It was a very strange awakening that was not encouraged by any sort of drug usage either. I don’t get down like that. Now I can’t stop noticing these colours and all of a sudden, everything has become extremely overwhelming. I can’t help but wonder if this is what children who have Autism experience?

Then, as I lay awake searching for the moment I could drift away into unconsciousness, I couldn’t help but to go deeper into my thoughts and I began to hear all sorts of things that go bump in the night. From the furnace rumbling, the wind gently finding its way through the trees, to the flags in front of the lending office flapping hurriedly along. I lay there attentively listening and suddenly began to speculate as to why I can’t do the same thing when I’m trying to meditate?

Now, the downside to all of this is I seem to be craving the toxicity of shitty relationships. I was thinking back on all of the associations I’ve had with various men and women alike, sharing my deepest most most intimate parts of not only my body but my psyche as well, and began to postulate about the connection between my creativity and my need to be in a virulent relationship. I always found that those relationships were full of fire and passion, was rarely dull, but created a lot of PTSD moments as well as quite a bit of distrust when it came to any future involvement, no matter how positive I thought it may have been. The closest I’ve gotten to this in the last three years is a fascination with villainous characters; think Joachim Phoenix’s or Jared Leto’s the Joker, Penn Bagley’s character in Netflix’s You, even Denzel Washington, Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, Idris Elba, Gary Oldman, and Christopher Walken just to name a few, in all their criminal roles. These men ooze with a sensuality that reminds me (sadly), of the criminals I spent various bits of my life with. Who doesn’t love a good bad boy?

I do also recognize that when I am in a state of severe depression and/or chaos, my creativity flows forth with great abundance, like the wine Jesus made during the wedding at Cana. I put out some of the most beautiful pieces I could ever compose during those times.

For whatever reason, my senses are heightened and the artistic cravings are growing, but I have no desire to pick up a brush or camera. The closest I’ve been getting to a creative outlet is with food and my hips are none too happy about this.

So…what’s a girl to do?

I feel as if I am in a horrible catch-22. Give up what’s left of my sanity and just create like never before which would mean I stay in a dark place OR, I stay in the light and quell every creative thought that attempts to come bubbling up through any cracks it can find because my art is never as good as if I’m in the dark. It’s challenging to find a happy medium, it’s not a black or white thing (no pun intended). I wish it was as simple as that. It would make the creative process a whole lot easier, but I doubt I could produce something that wasn’t dull. I don’t know, maybe I need to get laid. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt lustful touch of another person. Maybe I need to delve head first into my art and never look back, the consequences be damned. Maybe, just maybe, I’m dealing with yet another mid-life crisis. My birthday is fast approaching and I will be remembering my 46th trip around the great yellow orb in the sky.

Any other creative types that deal with this kind of thing? How do you deal with it?

Lifting the veil…

In just under a week, I will be part of the masses that will return to “business as usual” by working in the office again, but it won’t be just business as usual.  Things have changed and those changes are here to stay.

Am I nervous? You bet your ass.

I absolutely adore working from home; I feel secure in my fortress of solitude. I can control my environment and those around me; I can’t do that in a public setting. I have everything I need: privacy, safety, a fridge full of food, lack of disruption and noise. I won’t get that in the office.

I can’t even begin to say just how grateful and thankful I am to have had such an opportunity, and if presented with another, I won’t hesitate to act on it; whether with this company or another. It has really eliminated my stress levels to a near-minimum, even with stringent deadlines to meet. I’m able to break down emotionally when I need to, nap when I need a rest, and my house has never been cleaner too. (I’ve really found a great rhythm in getting the dishwasher unloaded/loaded, or getting a load of laundry or getting the bathroom cleaned up within my break/lunch periods, and it has been so fantastic!)

As it stands, we aren’t required to wear a mask all day, which is good and bad, but I’m nervous about the repercussions of that action. But here’s the kicker. We have to wipe down everything we touch, but not wear a mask? I’m so conflicted.

We can’t control the actions of others, and we have no way of knowing whether or not they are answering our covid protocol questions 100% truthfully. (I’m not saying everyone will lie about their answers, but all it takes is for one person to fib and spread the virus and this is what does not sit well with me at all). We don’t know if they are sanitized properly, unless we watch them when they come in and they do it in front of us, we just don’t know. And with the internal staff, there’s no way of knowing where they are laxing on the practices, since some of them are behind closed doors. I however, live in cube farm hell, so there is more chance of contact with anyone who hasn’t been “washed” properly. There are too many variables that make this whole thing seem very unreal.

I saw a post on FB the other day that said, “We are drowning in a world of information, but starving for wisdom”, or something to that effect. That resonated with me, especially in these times, where there is so much information, good, bad, true, and made-up, that it’s a challenge to differentiate what’s what. This is a big part of my anxiety. I have done everything I can to limit my exposure to all of the so-called facts that are being thrown around, but there is still some that gets through, no matter how hard I try to prevent it.

Depression has played a major factor in all of this, and I have been on the struggle bus lately keeping it in check. Anxiety sets in as I count down the final days of my at-home work life.

Yes, I am reminded that things could be so much worse like not having a job at all, not getting unemployment when I needed it, and not knowing what is happening from one moment to the next. Like I said earlier, I am extremely grateful to be afforded these opportunities, and I probably shouldn’t “kvetch” about it, because truth be told, I have a lot of what many don’t. While things seem fine for the moment now, an email went out today that had some potential tell-tale signs of “this is just the beginning of the storm”, and this has me even more on edge.

Bottom line is this: I’m thankful for what I have, I’m not looking forward to yet another change, but I’ll just continue to roll with the punches as they come. I’m usually pretty good with change, but covid is making it difficult. Still, I’ll do my best and that’s all I can offer.

What about you? How are you handling change these days?

Until next time, darlings.

~Mama

 

Prayers Answered.

Today we heard a sermon on Matthew 13:33, which talked about preparing leavened bread. While she spoke, she talked about yeast, and sourdough starter, and how it all intertwined with today’s pandemic. The speaker kept mentioning something about leading simple lives, and finding God’s kingdom in it.

Then it hit me.

I prayed for this time of simplicity, and it is something I have prayed for repeatedly, for many, many, years.

I can remember standing in the shower on some mornings before work, praying for things like being able to be a stay at home mom (to my now-grown children), being able to bake bread, make much more healthy (or unhealthy as it were) and interesting meals, keeping house, and finding joy in the simplicity of it all, and not having to deal with the hustle and bustle of the rushed world, slowing down to really enjoy the prayers God answered for me.

Four weeks into an epidemic, and I’m finally starting to understand just how much of an impact my prayers have had on my life, not to mention the prayers that were prayed for my family!

This is what has finally brought me a sense of peace. It’s a remarkable feeling of relief and a real lightbulb moment that the Lord really DOES answer prayers. Granted, it may not be the most opportune type of answer, but the rest of the world is also forced to slow down as well. Yes, I know. It’s not ideal for a lot of people to be out of work, and have to struggle so hard to make ends meet, some people don’t even know where their next meal may come from. But the resources, at least in this state, are huge, and you just have to pay attention to know where to find them, instead of throwing up your hands and giving up.

The biggest resource, is God. I’m finding that if I can just sit in the stillness, meditate, and pray (which again, I know isn’t always ideal for families with young children or a houseful of people, etc).  Believe me, I know what it’s like to struggle, I’ve definitely had my fair share. It took a LOT of years to get to this point of relying on God and the power of prayer.

Let me back up. I still struggle with depression and severe anxiety, but it’s not only an emotional thing, it’s a DNA thing. I still get hit with news that is negative and distressing, and I lose my faith in an instant. (at least, I think I do). But I’ve noticed that my first inclination is to send up prayers. I have friends who are like-minded folks of faith, and they always seem to show up right when I need them most; whether in the form of a call, text, or bible study meeting (recently online only, but still…). God put those folks in my path. I consider them angels. I can only say I feel like they are the reinforcements He sent when I am feeling out of sorts. I can only hope that others feel the same about me.

While this moment of chaos is extremely frustrating and difficult for a lot of folks, I’m choosing to take this time to enjoy my removal from the craziness. For once, I’m thankful that my own compromised immunity is working in my favour. I am feeling very blessed that I have an opportunity to work from the safety and comfort of my home, and that technology is still allowing us to connect in some way. I love the creative ways people are reaching out to each other and I am happy that I have the opportunity to be a homemaker too.

I love having the freedom to be in the kitchen more regularly, to work in my garden, to do little home projects I’ve neglected because I lacked the time and energy to be a worker bee AND a homemaker.

I am, in a word: happy.

Until next time, darlings.

~Mama

Appreciating the Little Things.

Quarantine. I know that we are all knee-deep in the Shelter in Place order. But it doesn’t have to be all bad.

Here’s a short little list of some of the things I’ve grown to value during this crisis:

• Sleeping in. This has been difficult for me to really get behind because I’m so used to starting my day between 4:30-5:00am, but I absolutely love sleeping in until 730am-8:00am. (Any later though, and I feel like I’m wasting the day away).
• Not wearing a bra daily. Since this whole thing, I’ve only worn a bra maybe once a week. I feel so much more comfortable! Men won’t understand this, but women, do you feel me on this??
• Not having to wear makeup every single day. Don’t get me wrong, I simply adore how makeup accentuates my features, like my eyes (I think I have lovely eyes), but I’m happy not to have to worry about making the perfect “wing” every morning at 5:30am, or whether or not my brows are twins or just “sisters”.
• I don’t have tummy issues like I used to! Seriously, while I’m at the office, I am constantly having to take way more antacids or charcoal tabs to digest properly. I’m regular again! The stress is real, and I know that work plays a huge factor in that.
• Not having to start most mornings with coffee. Since I’ve been waking up naturally, I don’t need to run to the kitchen for a cuppa joe to kick-start my brain into waking up. Wanna know a secret? I’ve switched to decaf! I love the coffee, but save the good stuff for when I need that extra boost, which isn’t very often anymore.
• Nasal spray. This is a weird one, right? Not really. Most every single morning I walk into the building only to have to pull out the bottle and give myself a couple of spritzes. I don’t know what it is, but it’s like my nasal passages instantly block up the moment I pass through those doors and breathing becomes a problem fast.  Seriously, what is up with that?
• Traffic jams. When I worked in the big city, it would take sometimes two hours to get home. My current commute is not as long per se (on a bad day it could take an hour or more, and on a good day, it takes 40 minutes. On a day with no traffic it takes a measly 25 minutes), but having to deal with bad drivers, road rage, etc., was wearing on me. Now, there is a lack of wear and tear on my car and it is a blessing in disguise. I don’t have to put gas in every week and now I actually look forward to a ride in my vehicle!
• Windows. Yes, windows! Monday through Friday, I sit in a cube and face a wall. There are no windows to watch the trees sway in the breeze, or the birds shitting on the cars. I decorate my cube with my own brand of art and little things that bring me joy, but it’s not the same as having a window to look out of.  At home, there are not only windows, but there is a lovely porch and a patio to enjoy nature! This is my happy.
• Food. Instead of snacking all day long, and trying to fit in three squares, I eat a good breakfast, a large lunch, and have small bites before its time to retire for the evening. Holy cats, I wake up feeling SO much better!
• Showers aren’t a mandatory, daily thing anymore. My hair feels so much healthier and I don’t wake up looking like I haven’t washed in 30 days.

the bottom line is yes, the world seems to be falling apart, and at some point, I’ll have to go back to being a productive member of society, but there are things I will cherish right now. I have bigger issues of course: depression, anxiety, and a huge fear of the uncertainty of our future, but I’m taking this time to give thanks for what I have. No matter how long it lasts.

Is there anything that you are finding peace with or anything that helps you in this time of lockdown, feel a little bit better?

Until next time, darlings.

~Mama

Skee Ball.

One of my favourite memories I have as a teenager was going to an arcade in Allentown, PA with my high school love, Chris. It was on the main drag and a very popular hangout back in those days. They had all sorts of boardwalk/arcade type games, video games, the claw, and of course, skee ball.

I didn’t really have much interest in any of the other games except skee ball. I can still remember the sounds when we walked in, the laughter, the electronic chimes and bells from the machines, the squeals of delight from other patrons.

As Chris and I walked up to the machines, my heart leapt with excitement at the thought of all the tickets that would pour from the slot.  We approached the machines, I would pick a lane and he would pick the lane next to mine. He gave me a look of friendly competition, with a dash of an evil grin that no matter who won or lost, we were both winners.

We inserted our coins into the slots, the balls rattled down the shoot. We picked up those smooth, wooden orbs and I held mine for just a moment. I gently caressed it and felt for the smoothness, the slight divots, and became familiar with them. I could envision the globes becoming an extension of my arm, and as I released the first one it made a loud clunk as it hit the pad. It then rattled loudly as it made its jump from the ledge to find its appropriate home on the board. The lights on the board lit up my score and I could feel myself getting more excited with each roll.

At the end of my 9 ball roll, the tickets I am promised finally make their long-awaited appearance.

I look over at Chris and smile; he glances back with one of his own ever so sweetly with just a hint of flirtation. This is just the beginning of our evening of good clean fun. Who will win?

We would play for a while, each game scoring tickets for our big prize. Once we’ve had our fill, we decide that instead of using our winnings for a prize for each of us, we combine them for something special for my son instead.

Once we left the arcade with our prize in hand, we would hit up one our favourite eateries: the traditional diner down the street that looked like a silver train car with seating so tight you’d take special care not to bump into the other patrons, the $.59 hamburger stand for 20 of their famous cheeseburgers and deep fried pierogies, Martellucci’s for pizza, or Pott’s or Yocco’s for dogs.

As an adult, I will always smile back on this memory. I’ve gone so far as to even download the game on my smartphone, but it pales in comparison to the memory I cherish with my high school beau.

Until next time, darlings.

~Mama

Red Hat Society

One of my dreams in life is to become a member of the Red Hat Society. Have you heard of this? It’s an awesome group of lovely ladies who meet and celebrate each other on a regular basis. They are typically for ladies 50+, but they added the Pink hats for the “babies”. Once you hit 50, you can graduate and move up to the red hats. I’ve adored this group for so long, and as a woman of 45, I would love an opportunity to connect with a local chapter. I’ve included a link if you’d like to read a little more about them.

click here.

So why the interest? The answer is simple. Friendships and a sense of sisterhood, with ladies who share a similar interest. The get-togethers. And of course, the hats. Since I’m not quite a “big girl” as they say, I would have to have a “pink hat”. I am very fond of this one:

This has been added to my Amazon wish list.

In some small way, I already have some friendships that I would consider to be in my own “personal” version of RHS, but I am not entirely sure if they would share in my affinity of being in this group. I have a vintage way of thinking that not everyone else does however, I still think it would be a hoot to have them all in!

One of the things I love about my circle of friends is that a great deal of them are of an older generation, and I’ve always felt much more comfortable in their presence. There seems to be much less stress and competition, no women trying to undermine another to feel better about themselves, much more laid back and apt to tell truth than spew honey from their lips.

I feel it might be rather challenging to hold get-togethers at this time for obvious reasons, but why not celebrate each other in creative ways? Write letters, hold virtual meetings, pick up the phone (remember party lines? Sometimes I wish those were still a thing).

Maybe one day my dream will become a reality, maybe I’ll get lucky enough to find a chapter in my area. Or maybe, juuuust maybe, I’ll be lucky enough to start my own RHS chapter.

Would you care to join me?

~Mama ❤

 

Continuing Lessons from the world of Confinement.

I’m conflicted. I wrestle daily with bouts of anxiety, depression, worries regarding the “what-ifs” of the future. I am also, happy and calm some times with the possibility of being able to just do projects I’ve been putting off. So far, I’ve organized both freezers, organized my cupboards, deep-cleaned my main bathroom, and shampooed carpets.

Still, I have many things I lament over:

• I’m really grateful to have this downtime to decompress and get my mind right.
• I’m freaking out because I don’t know if I’ll have a job or not.
• I feel downright guilty about having this time to relax.
• I know there will come a time when life will change, and going back to work will happen in one fashion or another, but am I doing what I am truly meant to do? 
• Does God have a different plan for me, or am I doing exactly what I am meant to do? (I heard something recently that resonated within my very soul, “It is a struggle and a real challenge, knowing I have all of these wonderful talents, and they are going to waste on things I don’t really care about, or have a passion for”).
• I should spend more time in my art, but I haven’t the guts. Why?

My hope is that once all of this is over, we all have a better sense of appreciation of the world around us; that we won’t take for granted the little things, like Mondays for example. (I get it, Mondays can be challenging, but we should all be so lucky to see another).

I hope that there will be more visits from friends, more of the phone calls, and weekly check-ins. I know that “life” gets in the way, but our friends and family are a part of our lives. Let’s not forget that! The spirit of helping one another seems to be strong right now as well. Helping our fellow man in this journey we are all on, making sure we are all doing okay. Granted, we can’t save the world, but we can make a difference in our own backyard. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have a strong support system that loves me enough to make sure I’m doing well. I hope I am giving them the same sort of comfort they give me.

I just want to touch on a few other things. I mentioned in my bullet points about wasted talents. I am an artist. I’ve been an artist for many years. I feel like slowly I’ve lost interest in being creative because being a productive member of society doesn’t mean I get to be very artistic. Bills have to be paid, chores have to be done. My mind yearns to have that release, but my body is unwilling. I lose energy much too quickly, which is very discouraging, to say the least. I wish I knew how to fix it.

Maybe I’m thinking too big. Maybe I should focus on smaller bites so I don’t feel so overwhelmed. Pulling out the sketchbook, instead of getting my rig out, focus on making creative meals, instead of pulling out all of the paints and canvas. But even that seems like a daunting task at times. Now that I have this downtime, I’m spending a little more time spilling words all over my blog, whereas before I felt like I spent too much time in front of the screen for a paycheck. It kind of takes the magic out of blogging.

There are only so many hours in a day, and I want to use them wisely, however, there are days where I’m not going to do anything but become one with my couch; I guess that would be considered self-care? (as long as it doesn’t turn into a bout of depression, which unfortunately has happened more times than I care to count).

I spend a lot of time in prayer or as much as I can, and most days I lose my thoughts. I gave up trying to make sense of it all. I just ask God to just look at my heart, it is all there. I’m numb and my brain hurts, but some days, I’m okay. That’s all that matters, right?

I would apologize for being all over the place with my words today, but I won’t. All my messy thoughts are just what I have right now.

Until next time, darlings….

~Mama ❤

 

Dreams

I’m a very vivid dreamer and have been since my late teens. Here is an example of a dream story I had a few years back.

So, in the continuing saga of wtf does THAT dream mean, i had yet another doozy of one last night. Warning, this post will be wordy, and again, it’s more or less for me to remember, so I won’t be offended if you don’t read it. 😊

This one had to do with a big, old, victorian house, with many rooms that were being rented out to various people. I really needed a room, as I was working in this small town, I had just moved to. The house was very victorian, massively high ceilings, decorative staircases, tapestries and trophy game heads hung from the walls. Ornate lamps and tchotchkes littered every corner of the house. It was quite gaudy, but lovely in its own right. The colour crimson seemed to be the colour of choice here, but there were also many other rich, deep, colours as well. From royal blues and purples, and deep, dark, mahogany for the wood. Each room was decorated in old world fashion. The common room was typical; large fireplace, uncomfortable looking love seats, that seemed as if they were more for looking, not for sitting in. A wet bar, that held various potions in crystal bottles. Cigars that were ashed out in fanciful trays. The whole house smelled of must, like days gone by.

The old woman who owned the house had an aire of stodginess about her. She was not very warm. Very uptight, like she had not genuinely smiled in many years. She acted as if she really did not want boarders, but had no choice because she needed income stability. I was one of 4 other boarders, one of which was a couple. They were all a lot younger than I, but it didn’t matter. I need a place to stay for the time being.

The house mistress showed us to our rooms, and as we dutifully climbed the heavy staircase, the air seemed to change. It felt much colder. Not like air conditioning, but rather that cold you feel when the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you get an uneasy feeling in your gut that someone was watching, or even following you.

Every door the house mistress opened, was done with a loud creaking sound, which was eerie in its own right. As she droned on in a monotone voice about the history of the house, and the rooms we were about to occupy, the doors opened with a fast breathe of air that passed through us. It was so fast and strong, it almost knocked the wind out of me for a moment. As that happened, I noticed a white mist that moved just as quickly with the air, that almost seemed to have a high-pitch scream as it dissipated into nothingness. While I thought it unusual, it didn’t frighten me, not yet anyway. I don’t believe any of the other boarders noticed this, as they were all too busy on their cell phones, texting, and snapping selfies for their IG profiles, or other various social media apps. They seemed rather disinterested in the whole thing, and seemed more interested in being “plugged in”.

After the formalities were presented by the house mistress, we each retired to our designated rooms for the evening. Some of the boarders played music loudly, some laughed and giggled, not taking notice that there might be something sinister within the walls that they now lived between.

As I changed out of my day clothes and into my sleep wear, I felt a sense of total exhaustion. Since I recognize immediately that if I don’t respond to my body’s cries for sleep, I would be an utterly unbearable person in the morning, I decided that, rather gathering downstairs in the dining area for a bit of late night noshing and getting to know my new “housemates”, that my time would be better well-spent just turning in for the evening. And with that, I climbed into the oversized bed, with all it’s lavish spreads and pillows, nestled in and drifted off to slumber.

As I peacefully slept, I was awakened by an almost arctic breeze that seemed to blow in from out of nowhere. I didn’t understand where it could have come from, as I knew the window was latched and covered by those thick and dusty curtains. Suddenly, from the furthest corner of my room, I heard a loud, ear-piercing scream and a thick murmuring sound. I tried to flip on the lamp next to the bed, but it wouldn’t turn on. “stupid lamp”, I grumbled to myself. I fumbled for my cell phone to turn on the flashlight app, and as the light flipped on, to my shock and dismay, there was not just one, but SEVERAL black shapes that stood in my room, holding down a white-haired sexless child. The figures were chanting and singing over this child; Their words were inaudible, but the tone was there. It was strong, forceful, and authoritative.

It didn’t seem like the objective was to save the child, or even sacrifice it. It was more like they were devouring it…not in a cannibalistic way, but more in a way that caused its body to vapourize into thin air. Each syllable, each sound, caused this child so much distress, that it had no place to go, so it simply, vanished. As the childs body disappeared, its screams became louder and louder. It affixed its eyes upon mine, as it became more and more ghost-like, but the child’s eyes turned from innocent and wide-eyed, to dark, and very menacing.

Once the child completely vanished, it became quiet and the room still. It was so quiet, it was almost deafening. Then, all of a sudden, a shrieking sound ripped out of the silence. I became utterly paralyzed. I was unable to move any part of my body, including my limbs. I had no voice. I tried desperately to struggle for freedom, but it was no use. I was completely frozen by fear.

The words from the black figures became more coherent now. They were performing some sort of ritual, to rid the home of dark forces. These dark forces I could see more clearly. The old house mistress was leading the ritual, and her stodginess disappeared into something much more sensual and open. The other boarders were laughing and screaming maniacally as the other random black figures continued chanting and singing.

The white mist and cool breeze that escaped the rooms earlier that day, had found their way back here and were entering my own body and mind. I remember, screaming “Leave me be! Leave my body! Go back to the hell from whence you came, Mother F*cker!” As the forces enveloped every part of me, the sexless child reached out for me, inviting me to come play, but this time it wasn’t a child, it was a wrinkled, old figure, grinning ear to ear, with rotting skin, dripping off its face and arms. At this point I awoke from my dream, in a state of total panic and uneasiness.

Like I said…wtf is my subconscious trying to tell me now? Or do I just have an overactive imagination?

What skills do I have to offer?

Being on temporary lay-off has me pondering the “what-ifs” of life as well as all of the possible outcomes of what the future may hold. For example :

What if i don’t have a job to go back to?

What if my skillset is not in high demand?

What if I can’t get work because I’m too old?

All of these things weigh heavy on my mind, because I’m not college educated (I chose to raise a family instead), because I am a 45, middle-aged woman with no new skills, because I’ll have to fight harder than the average young person looking for work (ageism is unfortunately a thing). I’m concerned about the employment gap that will show on my resume (which could be a long or short stint depending upon how this whole COVID thing plays out).

I started wondering about what my path really is in life, career wise. Since I don’t have the luxury of being a housewife (no husband, no prospects, not wealthy enough to be philanthropic), what is it about me that would make me stand out? I have many different skills due to the many different positions I’ve held over the years, so I suppose you could say I’m a generalist, not a specialist, and unfortunately now that I have a greater understanding of how the job market works, a generalist is not necessarily in high demand. Everything I’ve ever done I’ve acquired a minimum of 1.5 years experience (or more), but nothing that has stuck for longer than 6. The only exception to this is my photography, but I’ve been out of the game for so long, I’m unable to compete with the “regular professionals” (nor do I have the desire to compete. Its too high-stress and my physical won’t allow for high stress any longer).

So, what can I offer the world and get paid for it? A few ideas that came to my mind are:

*Resume writing (As a Talent Acquisition Specialist, I’ve gotten really good at knowing what a resume should look like).

*Ready-made meals. I’ve been thinking about this one for a while now, and really think this might be something I could build on. I’ve seen kits that sell for $20-$30 in the supermarket that say they can feed a family of four, but after buying one for my family of four I’ve come to the conclusion that whomever came up with the idea that a family of four will be satisfied with a portion the size of an appetizer, doesn’t even have a family of four, or has ever fed a family of four.

*Social Media marketing. There was a time when I helped some of the small businesses in my little town with their SMM. It was fun, it helped me to make connections within my community, and business owners didn’t have to stress about getting their specials and advertising up, because they knew it was being done, and done right. In my current role, I do a lot of this anyway, and have been able to streamline my abilities in this arena.

*Product Photography. I’ve done this in the past for local businesses, and on occasion still get calls for this type of service. It’s a very low-stress job, and something that doesn’t take a lot of extra work. The subject matter is cooperative, and as long as I set my shots up correctly, I can get these done quickly, and make decent money.

I’ve also thought about going to college, (accepted to three different art schools, but due to circumstances at those times, was unable to attend. Now two of those schools are defunct). Sadly, I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. I like variety, but I’m lacking in a strong specific skill. I’m a creative person, who has to conform to whatever the world wants from me, and hope that the skills I do have, are transferrable to other positions.

Of course, all of this “daydreaming” may be for naught because it’s quite possible I will have a job to go back to. However given my history, planning for change is better than sitting back and waiting for things to fall into my lap.

Now, I must take my leave and prepare my own resume, just in case.

Until next time, darlings.

Mama ❤

Slowing down

It’s another fun-filled day here in the great Pacific Northwest, it’s raining and gray, and like most non-essentials, I’m here, hanging out within the confines of my beautiful home. However, not like most NEs, I’m writing my thoughts in a blog that no one will probably ever read, in the hopes of making some sort of sense in this crazy, mixed-up world.

Non-essentials. Sounds like something out of a sci-fi dystopian novel. I personally love a good futuristic dystopian novel, but then once the COVID crisis hit, I don’t particularly care to live in one.

One of my favourite stories is a book by Ninni Holmqvist called The Unit. Here is a brief synopsis, as found on Amazon:

Ninni Holmqvist’s uncanny dystopian novel envisions a society in the not-so-distant future, where women over fifty and men over sixty who are unmarried and childless are sent to a retirement community called the Unit. They’re given lavish apartments set amongst beautiful gardens and state-of-the-art facilities; they’re fed elaborate gourmet meals, surrounded by others just like them. It’s an idyllic place, but there’s a catch: the residents—known as dispensables—must donate their organs, one by one, until the final donation. When Dorrit Weger arrives at the Unit, she resigns herself to this fate, seeking only peace in her final days. But she soon falls in love, and this unexpected, improbable happiness throws the future into doubt.

While they don’t use the term “non-essentials”, they do use a similar term, “dispensables”. I started to think about this book recently and began to wonder about how our society is slowly, but rapidly to a degree, turning into a very dystopian-like society.

Quarantine- Being politely asked to stay within our homes to stop the spread of infection, but its “ok” to go for walks, just not in crowds.

Rumours of possibly needing a “pass” to show “proof” that you’re allowed to be out and about, with possible repercussions if you’re caught without one.

Social-Distancing – Again to slow the spread, and keep trips to anywhere, at a minimum. No touchy-touchy!

People hoarding supplies because they are scared, leaving an “every man for himself” mentality.

Rounding up people and keeping them in a designated quarantine area until they are symptom free. (Here in Everett they are using an arena for that very purpose).

Do you think the world will ever go back to normal? Do you think that once the government has all of these new power moves in place, they are going to relinquish them willingly? Will our economy ever be the same?

And now that good ole ‘Murica said here hold my beer as our infection rate just surpassed everyone else’s in the world, I fear this will get a whole lot worse before it gets a whole lot better.

The world is turning into a very frightening place.

But, I digress.

I’m not here to spread fear into the world. Instead, I want to focus on some of the things my friends and neighbors are doing to ease the tension. I’m not turning a blind eye to what’s going on, because believe me its difficult to do such a thing in a world where the information (real AND fake, is prevalent at every turn). Today, I’d much rather take time to share some of the random acts of kindness in my life and what I’m doing to help ease the stress of the craziness.

*Writing. Yes, I’ve taken up writing again. I can’t even begin to describe how much I’ve missed being able to get a few thoughts out on paper (virtual or otherwise). Writing is cathartic for me and I’m happy to have this time to do it again.

*Cooking. Yes, food is becoming scarce, but not entirely. I’ve been kind of a food hoarder for many years, probably because I’ve grown up poor and have wondered many times, even into adulthood, if I would have enough to feed myself and my family. But, my cupboards are stocked, and I’m thankful I have it for now. It gives me an opportunity to be creative also.

*Gardening. While I haven’t quite started it yet, it will be worked on in the coming weeks. We’ve got all we need to start it, minus a few things. (Trelis for the tomato, soil, fencing to keep the animals out). We’ve got seeds, ground covering, and planter boxes, AND a designated area for all things growing). Example of what we will grow: Tomatoes, beans, sugar snap peas, lettuce, squash, zucchini, corn, peppers, sunflowers. We have a couple of fruit bearing trees, apples and plums. I’d love to grow berries too, if we can get them to fit.

*Sending random messages to people I love. Its the equivalent of sending a hand written note, and for a whole year I did this for people. Everyone loved it. But, since I can’t get stamps right now, I’m gonna send messages to let people know they are loved and cherished.

*Dream Translation. I know this sounds peculiar. I vowed not to do this anymore, but I’ve had a change of heart. I had a really good one the other day that absolutely resonated with me. I’m also trying to paint or draw these out, if I can’t find the words to put down for them.

*Virtual meetings and facetime (sort of). I love and miss my fellow parishioners/church family, and just my family and friends in general. While our future is dystopian-like, I’m thankful for the technology we have to at least “see” each other in some strange way.

*Prayer, and lots of it. This one is self-explanatory, but I do believe in the power of prayer. It not only gives a sense of hope and calmness, but it also gives us a focal point and something to hold on to when life gets rough.

So, even though life is crazy, taking the time to find the joy in the little things helps keep me sane.

*Bear Hunt. Okay, so this doesn’t pertain to me, but I’ve seen this pop up all over Facebook. People are putting teddy bears in the windows of their homes, and parents are taking their children for drives to search for them. Super cute idea!

What are you doing to keep the sanity in your life?

Until next time, lovelies.

Love, Mama ❤