A quote or two or three

[Day 17 of 30 day writing challenge - A quote you try and live by]

There are a few quotes that tumble around in my head over the years. It's hard to say which one guides me the most. 

Most recently asking myself  "Who am I?" and "What is true?" can reframe my mind or confirm my intentions in just about anything I am considering. This one I would like to keep in the forefront of my processes. Thank you to Steven Barnes for that (among many other things.)

from Miguel Ruiz' The Four Agreements I have these taped to my bathroom mirror:

Be impeccable with your word. 
Don't take anything personally.
Don't make assumptions.
Always do your best. 
From Dawn Callan I was given: 

Wake up! 
Don't complain.
Don't Take Any Shit. 
From my mom: "Walk a mile in their shoes." Or "Put yourself in their place" has gone a long way in teaching me compassion.
"Ain't nothing to it but to do it." Is something my sister is fond of saying. I grew to like it too because of its straightforwardness. 

I love this bit attributed to Thoreau "Go confidently in the directions of your dreams. Live the life you've always imagined." Ah, that 'confidently' has been the tricky one.

Many of these seem like they are beyond me sometimes. But the fact that they refuse to fade away like other bits of advice I've gathered over the year surely means they are part of my path. I may stray often, but when I remember to look up these are the lanterns that will guide me home.

Bullet Your Day

[Day 16 of 30 Day Writing Challenge - Bullet your day]

Wake up
Go to work
Navigate stress mines dropped by the boss
Leave work
Go to the grocery store
Ditch dinner plans because Inlaws want fam to come over for dinner
Get home late
Make a valiant attempt to write
Fall asleep some time after that

3 Pet Peeves

[Day 15 of 30 Day Writing Challenge: Three pet peeves]

“Eww!” – I find that I have little patience for people who are fond of using the two-syllable utterance of “Eww!” to decline something or express that some mundane thing is not for them. Alright, it is not just the word -although that phrase in particular instantly sets me on edge- but the utter pretentiousness of putting people down for something they might like and you don’t -ugh!

Celebrity gossip/news. – I don’t care who is getting in trouble or dating/marrying/divorcing who. Do not waste my time or airspace with shit that’s not my business.

Morning Talk Radio  – I find it hard to express my seething hatred for drive time radio. Take my two peeves above and get obnoxious people to talk about nothing but that. Oh, absolutely, that’s how I want to start my day.

7 minutes

Day 13 of 30 Day Writing Challenge: Your commute to and from work/school.

A short roll of the throttle gets you out of the cul-de-sac to the corner.  The first right hand turn of the day rolls you right through the Stop sign. You never stop at the sign -no call to, plus it’s horribly inefficient, you just got rolling after all.

A short jog then a Left-and-Right (both turns are other Stop signs to ignore -judiciously!)  and you are leaving behind the hive of houses proudly named something fancy to gussy up the ticky-tacky.

The first Stop sign you obey is the gate to the arterial flow of morning rush hour. Find your gap and scoot on in. Up over the bridge then and peeling left into the onramp that has you joining the inferior vena cava that is the 215 Beltway. The lane never quite merges. It becomes the off-ramp for the next exit which is, fortunately, your exit. You don’t get to shuffle and jive with the rest of the freeway commuters. Pity, that.

Shoot across the intersection at the exit and you are on the frontage road that’ll lead to the business park to your office. You are running along side the freeway again, but this time there’s a barrier between you and the pulse of rush hour. Though not nearly as packed, this leg of the trip is less carefree than the flirtation with the freeway rush hour. No, now you get to mess with the build up centered around the elementary school.

The road that leads to the turn in to your office is clogged with cars that move erratically in fits and starts, like a herd of cats each chasing their own individual red dot. It makes ignoring three Stop signs at the beginning of the commute seem downright earnest and thoughtful. That is why you ride right past it to the next block.

That’s where you discover favorite morning ritual: the Riley curve. The road that borders the business park goes from west-east to south-north in a smooth radial sweep of asphalt. A nice little right-hand sweeper where the concrete crawl butts up against tumbleweeds and creosote. As you ride up on it and burn off the speed as you lean into it you think It really is a good morning.

It’d be perfect right-hander if it didn’t have that little hiccup of a rain wash running across the road. With no room to savor the curve as you exit you have to snap upright to attention and reign in all that speed you spooled out so that you can stand in the stirrups and let her ride motocross style over the gutter. Soon enough you are at another Stop that lets you onto the street you avoided to go play for a minute.

In less than 15 seconds you will be rolling into your parking space a little sad that your commute is over.

Nary A Fuck Nor Spoon

Day 9 of 30 Day Writing Challenge: Your feelings on ageism

It sucks. Obviously. The young and the old discounted and diminished in the eyes of the other. That’s just lovely.

I feel this another of many -isms that are tossed into the bonfire of Whats-Fucked-Up-With-Our-World-Today. Shit that gets under our skin and makes us shoot sparks from our teeth we’re grinding them shut so hard in our seething of how WRONG it all is.

And yet, if there is a scale of magnitude similar to Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, I figure ageism would not be the worst -ism out there.

Still, it sucks.

I feel I have a dog in this fight. Rather, two frothy rabid dogs. I kinda get stung from pitchforks weilded by ageists on both sides.

I am both too old and too young to be me. I have developmental and dissociative setbacks to thank for this strange place I find myself. I don’t even know if I’m where I’m at due to circumstances of nature or nurture. Both? It doesn’t matter. This is arrested development. Failure to launch. A samsara merry-go-round.

I used to think it didn’t really matter. I guess it didn’t until I had a kid. It was fine if I fucked up my life but now -Oh god. Now.

I am too old and too young for this and I have nary a fuck nor spoon to spare. Anybody want to come at me with ageist bullshit is gonna want to think twice.