I have to wait my turn to pee

ghosts

In my house there were two adults and four children, all on the same floor, all sharing the same bathroom. Those were the days right? One person in the shower, one brushing his teeth and one having to pee; everyone minding their own business and keeping on schedule….nothing to see here, just keep moving.

My bedroom was only three short steps away from the bathroom but during the night it seemed like a dark wooded scene from Sleepy Hollow with miles before I found a place to assist me in my quest for relief.

As I stood in my doorway, I could feel the fear of anxiety fill me. Darkness. Who knows what lurks in the darkness. It can’t be seen and the thought of the unknown is usually more stressful.  I had little to say in the matter for Nature was calling but hated to leave the safety of my bedroom. So as I stood there contemplating my situation, I would picture ghosts passing in front of me like cars and I was the pedestrian waiting for the crosswalk sign to light up indicating my turn; only then would I take those quick steps into the bathroom. True story.

I think that was my coping device to handle my fear of the dark. If I had to wait for the coast to clear the ghosts would abide and let me into the lane when I got the green light without incident; that’s how the adults typically do it when they drive anyway….

In reply to the Daily Post nudge… #5 your childhood fear

(photo: theguardian.com)

MMM smell that earth

I remember distinctly while growing up, my mother making sure I had enough fresh air, no matter what the weather. She also taught me to appreciate nature around me.

In the autumn, the leaves that had fallen to the ground always smelled warm and smoky; even before being thrown into a brush fire pit.

The winter brought sledding outside down whatever small hill would lend itself to us. Traveling down the hill at what felt like the speed of light and the thrill of hitting a bump, tossed into the air, and the laughter of being covered from head to toe in the glistening white powder.  Sometimes you would inadvertently hit a tree no matter how hard you tried to steer away from it (and if you were on a small plastic saucer you didn’t have a prayer to not something), and then BAM, thrown off the sled into a bush (if you were lucky) or onto hardened snow, ouchies.  No one wants cold boogers frozen to your face, so the tears would have to just wait.  All in all, the cold fresh air made us feel alive and the scars are always a conversation piece.

In the summer when the sun shone through the windows, it is a no brainer…who wants to stay indoors on a beautiful sunny day? We have such a short summer season as it is so get out there and enjoy it. (Plus it is always better than doing house choirs like dusting!) The blue sky, cotton ball clouds, and leaves so green they hummed with life, blew in every gentle breeze. Even on rainy summer days, I could be found outside, cartoon character umbrella above me, in the gutter of the street, trying to build a dam or floating a few pieces of grass in a race, and then looking skyward for the rainbow.

But the spring, well now, this is a very special season at my home. The new arrived robins who would sing songs of their travels and birth of their young yet to come would resonate throughout the morning. The hundreds of flowers my father painstakingly spent all winter to cultivate the previous year, from cellar and then to small, but adequate, flower hut would begin to rise through the earth frozen in time by the longer winter past.

It is this freshly opened soil that, when soaked with the springs rains, smelled the most beautiful earthly smell you could ever imagine.

From the Daily Post question: home, soil, rain

I alone

I alone love you

I alone tempt you

I alone love you

Fear is not the end of this

From the moment I heard Ed Kowalczyk sing these intense lyrics, I was just blown away. My interpretation is that fear is not the end of this (life implied) but fear can most definitely paralyze you and as many cultures and religions will tell you, death is only the beginning.

Although money is required for existence, love truly is the power behind all that we are. It guides us to support others, to have the strength to move forward when it seems all is lost, it is found in hope, and trust, and would have us throw ourselves in front of a train if it meant saving the ones that we love most from getting hurt. Hmm I guess I have to add that love is also blinding, both in a good and bad way.

“The greatest teachers will not hesitate to leave you there by yourself chained to fate” = what better way to make ourselves stronger than by the strength in love and in ourselves. Who makes it happen? You make it happen. If you decide to give up, the situation hasn’t changed, it is still there taunting you, poking you with a stick until you get back up and knock it on its butt. So you can’t give up, you just can’t….

This song ebbs and flows in a very powerful way and bring me through a series of emotions; love, a smidge of sadness, longing, but in the end, I always seem to feel more powerful and resilient and more courageous for hearing it.

Weekly Writing Challenge: Music – – As a writer I have many inspiration cues.  A smell, a color, a photo from the past can all be a good launching place to write from.  But today I want you to think about music as your guide.  Let it flow and take you somewhere else today as you dance with your fingertips and write from your soul.