Life in the Fishbowl


 

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I rise just before 6:00 AM. I’ve been sleeping just a tad longer these days.  Leaving the welcome warmth of my bed can be difficult at times.  This has been a cold winter and I always turn the heat down in the evenings before going to bed as I cannot sleep well when it’s too stuffy.  Having the air be a bit on the cool side is okay when I’m tucked beneath my down-filled comforter.

Pillows tucked around me,  just so, with just my wee head popped out the top.  When the alarm sounds to rouse me from my slumber feeling the cool of the morning air inspires me to press the snooze button a few times.

And sleep has been odd these days.  Constant waking throughout the night.

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My dreams have been fervent and harried.  I wake feeling as though I am coming a great distance to join the waking world.  Even as my eyes begin to open, I am often still very much in the dream state.

Caught between two dimensions, if not more.

I shake the sleep from me by way of a morning shower.  In and out, slap moisturizer on, apply a bit of make-up, brush my teeth, drink a glass of water.  Dry my hair, dress and put my lunch together then dash out the door.

When did it become necessary for me to arrive at work so early?  Usually by 7:30 AM I’m sipping my coffee, going through emails and organizing my work day.

I put this on myself.  And yet, I love the early morning.  When the weather is great I witness sunrises that are breathtaking.  If not, I enjoy the sound of the rain.  The torrential down pours, I must admit, are a bit much sometimes.

As I cross the Queensborough Bridge I listen to the news of the day.  These days a man named Trump seems to dominate the air waves.

And I pause to wonder why it is as humans we can’t seem to find that balance in terms of getting along.

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Why is it so difficult?  Is it just our nature to behave the way we do?

Trump is trying to save Americans from what, I cannot say.  He’s sees a threat I suppose and feels it necessary to build walls and keep people out.

I feel deeply saddened by this.  Living in fear is a bad place to be.  I’ve been there. This is what I see when Trump is insistent on building a wall along the U.S. / Mexico border and when he bans people from seven countries housing those who follow the muslim faith from entering the country.

I see fear.

Trump thinks he’s being tough, and sadly tough is not what any of us needs.

In fact, we need compassion, love, understanding and acceptance.

When a country the size of the U.S. elects a President to isolate them to the degree he has already implemented in just under two weeks, we really need to look at ourselves collectively and how it is we all got here.

And sadly the United States is deeply divided as well.

A travel ban has been put in place and a 5 year old boy was detained for several hours and taken in hand cuffs at the Dallas Airport.

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Why?

Here in Canada, a disillusioned young man went into a mosque and shot down six people of Muslim faith as they prayed.

Why?

I believe, must believe that we all basically good at heart.  There is a a percentage of human population that is not good, misguided and evil. This is displayed in so many ways.  And oddly enough history has a way of repeating itself.

Still we have in the last 25 years gone through an extraordinary changes.  When industrialization took hold back in the mid-1800 and early 1900’s the response was not good.  Two world wars and then seemingly this world embraced the industrial age with fevered acceptance.

We humans, by our very nature, like routine. And yet in the last 60 years this world has changed so dramatically.

The industrial age quickly gave way to the computer age.  In my lifetime, and I am only pushing 59 years of age, I’ve witnessed the introduction of colour TV to having a device that I can hold in my hands that will connect me world wide.  Technology has moved into our lives at a rabid pace.

We haven’t exactly embraced it.

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Socially we turn to our computers, our smart phones and connect in a totally different manner.

We date…online.

We rant…online.

We do everything…online.

Show our intimate bits, and say things typically we would not.

Yet there is this world out there and the space that surrounds us.  A triangle formed by the new Moon, Mars and Venus held me in absolute rapture as it did so many others.

Snow that had piled up over several weeks leaving local lakes frozen over drew crowds that pulled on their ice skates to enjoy skating under a full moon.

And there is a magic to it.  There really is.  When we feel connected to the world we inhabit, it is a grand thing.

When we work collectively as the human race…oh…it is such a beautiful thing.  And it is usually in reaction to a massive evil that brings us together.   These days we find ourselves once again caught up in what appears  a terrible thing.

Let me leave you with this.

There is a small boutique hotel in downtown Vancouver that has been around for a very along time.  I won’t go into the why of it  now, however, across the parapet there is signage that reads:

UNLIMITED GROWTH INCREASES THE DIVIDE

On the Community College that sit across from it a sign went up recently that reads:

LET’S HEAL THE DIVIDE

We have more similarities than we do differences. Let’s focus on our commonalities and see where that takes us.  Let’s heal the divide.

To those who’ve lost loved ones due to violence inspired by fear and ignorance, I feel your hurt, pain and confusion.

Find forgiveness as this will save you.  Continue to love as this will elevate you.

If I could I’d wrap this world in love, I would.

So why don’t we give it a go.

Namaste.

 

 

 

 

Silver Linings


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I am a person who will experience an epiphany and suddenly the whole world and my existence in it makes perfect sense.  Yet as quickly as the insight arrived it sinks faster than the Titanic back into the abyss of my subconscious.  And for me it is a shadow that I will try to pursue, try to recover and analyze.

Usually I have no idea what I’m doing or what I’m trying to discover.  And I just realized that is one of the absolute joys in living this life.

Being open and present.

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I would like to say that I’m open to new ideologies. new thoughts, however, I really don’t think there is anything really new about much of the information that draws me in.   The thing that changes is perspective.  Of how we see something, of how we regard our place in this world and participate in it.

For example, back in the day…way, way back human sacrifice to the Gods was acceptable and considered necessary.  The idea of having angry Gods was a frightening factor no doubt.

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And I often have these questions that creep into my mind’s eye regarding our existence.  How is it that we came to chart the stars?  How is it that we came to understand that they would never change and guide us on midnight journeys across foreign lands and oceans?

Back in 1632 Galileo would be tried and found guilty of heresy regarding his findings that the Earth was in fact circular and orbited around the Sun.

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And mathematics has had a long history in this world and just as I ponder how the written word came into being I too wonder how it is that the science of math began its journey as well.  I would think some of the first measurements would have been made by our own appendages of fingers, feet and hands.   Of course cycles such as daily, monthly, seasonal and birthing became recognized.

But how is it that someone decided they wanted to measure the speed of light from one star system to our own?

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Unfortunately a lot of information has been destroyed and lost to us over the millenniums.  And there is apparently information that the powers that be feel we should not be privy to.

I look for the silver linings in pretty much everything.  There is always a lesson to be learned or a fascinating piece of knowledge tucked away.

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If I rise each day with the idea that I’m open to learning, open to discovering more of what constitutes life and its infinite layers then this is a good thing.  And while I know that life has the bookends of birth and death…it is the fabric in between that we weave that fascinates and humbles me.

Namaste.

 

 

 

Talking to Myself


 

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This year has blown by like an unforgiving force of mythological proportions.  In many ways the perfect storm.

I look in the mirror and indeed the reflection that stares back at me shows the appearance of someone having weathered some rather extreme cold fronts.

But look a little closer.  The eyes are still on fire, the head has a million ideas running through it and this heart still wants to love, needs to love…

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I was at my last session with the kinesiolgist earlier this evening.  Jae pushed me hard.

And yet, in my head, I still can’t accept that this is all I can do.

I’m remembering such a short time ago when the exercises I did this evening wouldn’t have even broken a sweat.  I’ve got some work to do.

And I told Jae that I may never get back to the level I was at before…but at least I’m alive and I can move.  Sure, it still hurts but hell, I’ve got to keep trying.

And on the same note I can’t accept what’s happening to me.

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I will be competing in a speaking contest of all things.  Telling a Tall Tale.  Never saw myself doing this.  And yet, I’ve challenged myself to speak as well as I write.  To become a storyteller in every sense of the word.  To have fun, to share some expressions, to leave people I’ve shared my ideas with reason to pause and reflect.

My home is still under construction as am I.  Works in progress both of us.  Life being coy and whimsical.  At times I feel so inadequate and foolish.

I’ve worked so hard to move from such notions.  Perhaps its best to just embrace those moments when I don’t feel I fit into my life very well at all.  Reality can at times be a bitch when the dream seems so close to fruition.

Pulled back, teasingly.  ‘Work harder.’

Decisions are made.  Desperate, wanting…

Decisions are reached.  Calmly, with forethought…

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And I slip into bed with a sore arm, a back tied in knots and legs cramping.  Stories are rushing through me and chase me into slumber.

And I’m working, working, working…

Trying to organize my time, trying to organize my life, trying to just live, just be.

At the gym Jae instructed me to do crunches but to have ‘fun’ with them.

“Make a gun with your hands.” he instructed showing me and placing his hands over his head.

“Now come up, pause and shoot between your legs.”

This is weird I decided.

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“Think of someone you’d like to shoot, that you don’t like.” he encouraged. ” like…your husband?”

“No…”I didn’t mention I wasn’t married.  Mute point.

“I don’t like guns, Jae. And there really is no one I want to shoot…hypothetically.”

I spoiled the fun, I guess.

Still I’m in this odd space these days and like everything…I’ll learn and grow.

Peace.

 

 

The Moment in Time


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A few nights ago I attended a short story open mic event. I noted that many of us seemed to collectively be in a mood to reflect and ponder on this world and the space that surrounds us.

A few of my fellow writers’ shared those moments when they realized that the world was far bigger than they could ever imagine and that the space they were gazing out at could well be infinite.

This induced a rather deep and ponderous thought process for me.

I began to study a little deeper the time factor after writing the piece inspired by the phrase ‘Time Died.’

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I have been reviewing calendars and when they came into being.  I’ve been researching civilizations and when they too began to develop in earnest, and then of course there is my fascination with the written word and its evolution.

And all that I have read over the last few days has sparked the detective in me to try and find out some of life’s little mysteries.

I’m going to begin by following the importance of the Mayan calendar for the moment simply because there are some rather interesting facts that seem to correspond with this particular calendar and the manner by which it tells time and records history.

Five ages, each one 5,125 years approximately in length, have now passed in accordance with the timeline the calendar offers us. The most recent age to have completed its cycle occurred in December 2012.  We have now entered the sixth age.

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I will try to create a brief timeline based upon the Mayan cycle of an Age.

Mayan culture wasn’t around when these ‘Ages’ began.  How is it that the Mayans came upon this knowledge and how is it that they ascertained it meaning that resulted in an exquisitely detailed calendar?

So many questions are slipping through me at this moment.

When did humanity have its ‘Aha!’ moment?

When did we collectively decide to record certain events? When did we begin to see the patterns the stars had mapped out for us?

And then begin to move around this planet based upon their guidance.

What I’ve found is that when I referenced the calendar certain very critical events in our evolution occurred in approximation with the calendar and its timeline.

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The hunt was one of the first events to be recorded as many caves worldwide will tell us.

Several old caves containing Stone Age parietal art can be found in central India, South Africa, Australia, Namibia, Argentina and South-East Asia, among other locations around the world.

What occurred to inspire this activity?

When did we collectively begin to draw images of animals and tell stories through song?

Did humankind lay staring at the stars and have that moment of beautiful awareness of what they were and what they could become?

Or did something happen?

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Home Sapiens have been around for at least 200,000 some odd years. It appears our species didn’t rush into the idea of civilization.

Like much of the life on this planet they likely lived simply and instinctually.

Much has been said about the Neanderthal and how they in fact died out.

Sure, there were obvious similarities between Neanderthal and Homo Sapiens of the day. There is no doubt that they met and co-mingled.

What would that experience have been like?

Your tribe is roaming this globe in search of food and water. In search of shelter and you come upon another being that looks somewhat like you…but different.

Were they afraid? Angry? Territorial?

And at some point around 35,000 some odd years ago humans began to record things.

Hand prints also began to litter the walls of caves worldwide.

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Why?

(I was here)

That is the message that reaches out across the span of time. They had found an awareness of who they were and they didn’t want to be forgotten? In the images recorded what is it that they were trying to tell us?

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Fabulous drawings began to adorn the walls of caves worldwide.

How is it that this phenomenon struck the inhabitants of this globe collectively?

What event precipitated this sense of keeping records? What instilled the desire and necessity to make it so?

A hand print on a wall is most definitely a record.

The Cave Chauvet in France is one the most pristine caves filled with art in such magnificent detail.

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And I have to wonder how it came to be so popular worldwide at that time considering they did not have mass communications…or did they?

Perhaps they did, only it was in a very different format than what we might imagine.

Every culture, every cave dweller would come to know the stars and their importance and they would come to know how to read them in order to note where they were on this planet.

How did they come by this knowledge?

That is why I am convinced that at some point collectively all humans from all the corners of this earth witnessed something quite remarkable.

Did they witness the arrival of the Gods?   Visitations perhaps?

Early humans would not have known just how expansive space really was and I can see how they imagined the Gods sitting upon those lofty clouds gazing down at the lot of them.

The similarity in stories world wide regarding the advent of God is remarkabley close. What changes is the interpretation of what was witnessed.  This too speaks to human nature.

At one point a few cultures had twelve such Gods running amok.  These beings had a variety of skills and powers.

Civilization had been born at this point. A hierarchy had been created to feed it that still exists to this day.

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Somewhere along the way the idea of God was whittled down to just one entity.

Strangely or perhaps not, various cultures chose different definitions of this singular God to represent them, protect or define them.

It was in the fourth age that civilization seems to emerged and began form and develop.

And it was during the formation of this civilization thing that time was truly established and cycles were set down.

And how did we come to have the calendar that we currently have? This too has been changed over the course of time.

I had to smile as I read about the above as it seems we’ve really muddled through on recording time and its cycles.  From the Roman calendar, which was rather complicated as it only had ten months and the winter season was not included so there were 61 days unaccounted for. Curious.  The Julian calendar remedied this by adhering to the lunar cycles.  Still there were errors that were corrected when the Gregorian calendar was introduced back in 1532 or thereabouts.

Theories abound! And not all countries adopted the new calendar.

Geometrics then come into play. Between the 3rd and 4th Ages in accordance with the Mayan calendar a whole lot of building began to take place.

We are talking big building! Massive big, man!

Pyramids, temples, Stonehenge…

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Again…not just in one location but all over this globe and likely there were many that did not stand the test of time or may well have been destroyed.

Behind the erection of these monuments there seems to have been a underlying call of divinity? Is this when men began to equate themselves as Gods?

The misinterpretation of power.

And we today have the conceit and ignorance to say they did not have the technology to do what they did regardless of the fact that these monuments stand before us as testament that indeed it was done.

Power is and always has been an intoxicating elixir.

Those at the helm of these projects must have indeed felt like gods.

Was this our imminent downfall?

Did we hunger for the knowledge that was bestowed upon us? Did we, in our human condition, decide at some point that we knew better?

Was there some level of anger shown toward the children of the stars sent to instruct us? In our infancy did we demand to much?

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And at the moment my imagination is skipping back to the innocence of when awareness truly occurred.

I see a meeting between early humans and star travelers. I see an intense and beautiful curiosity from both.

Did our space travelers ignore their own ‘prime directive’ (i.e. Star Trek) and feed us information that may wall have been forbidden to give?

Were we an experiment on a grand scale?

Where did the knowledge of the early sciences come from?

Mathematics, charting the stars, masonry, architecture?

All of these are exact in their implementation. They must be else wise they fail.

Travel, velocity and art are but conundrums in the grand scheme of things.

This planet hurdles through space on a daily basis. Not two days are ever the same.

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And were we, as humans, seeds that were planted amongst the stars?

And I must wonder if we were forgotten in this expanse we know as space.

There are times when as I slip into sleep or begin my ascent from it that the whisper of a long ago time speaks to me.

I was there.

Peace to all of you.

 

Below are some of the websites I found of interest in putting this piece together.  Thanks.

http://www.historyworld.net/wrldhis/PlainTextHistories.asp?historyid=ab25

http://www.walkinthelight.ca/History%20of%20the%20Calendar.htm

http://www.todayifoundout.com/index.php/2013/04/the-origin-of-the-7-day-week-and-the-names-of-the-days-of-the-week/

http://www.evoanth.net/2015/03/12/retracing-the-evolution-of-language/

…When Time Died


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I watched the film version of the Broadway musical ‘Rent’ a couple of nights ago.  I enjoyed it immensely and found myself in tears at times.  Much of what this production is about is still so very relevant.

There was a line in one of the songs that said….”when time died.”

I pulled those words out and held them up for further evaluation.  The whole concept of time and how we measure it.

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It is a human thing?  Or it is something is embedded in the D.N.A. of all living organisms?

We all adhere to cycles.  We must, after all our very life is a cycle measured by an infinite number of events and factors but the two constants are birth and death.

When humans first began their journey in this world it was their tenacity, duplicity and rather conniving nature that assisted in the push up to the top of the food chain.  That we are so good and creative when it comes to killing speaks volumes about our species.  Equally our capacity to love and build a community is just as stellar a point in our evolution and its success.

Regarding the equation of time, however, our reign on this planet is but a nanosecond, a blip or a dot amongst trillions upon trillions.

Hell, we are not even a smudge.

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Every part of my being is convinced that ‘intelligent’ life exists in the space that extends forever around us.

What is forever?  And what is time?

Forever, by definition, has no beginning and no end.  Time is a measurement of cycles, nothing more.  Or is it?

Did forever and time have a beginning?  Did they consummate their union to begin what we know as this universe?  Perhaps combined they make up the energy and concept known as God.

Is this a logical contemplation?

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The Mayan’s developed a calendar that reflects a period of time, an era as it were that covers approximately 5,025 years.  How did they come by this knowledge and what was the purpose of trying to preserve it?

We all recall a couple of years ago the doomsayers who insisted that the end of world would come when the calendar ended and that time for us would then die.

Time will never die.  We will.

Time will never change.  We will.

Time is a constant just as forever is.

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In many ways they are interchangeable. We are all little specs of energy that collectively make up our consciousness.  There have been moments when time crawled or at least it seemed as such.

These days it feels as if time is speeding up and we are all running at a break neck pace to keep up with it.

The deceptive perception of time overall lies in our imaginations.  Or does it?

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The questions that this phrase ‘…when time died’ evoked are likely experienced by all of us at some point in our life.

We have all asked ourselves the universal question.

‘Why am I here and what is my purpose?’

What if the answer was simply ‘to be.’

Now I’ll go and ruminated on this for a while.

Have an awesome Sunday.  Namaste.

 

The First Time Ever….


 

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The traffic was horrible on this evening.  I left the office at 4:00 PM.  I would have to navigate over two bridges on this evening’s commute.  I listened to the first traffic report that indicated a few issues on some of the bridges.

As I passed through the Cassiar Connector. which is a tunnel just past the Iron Workers Memorial bridge (a.k.a. 2nd Narrows), the traffic was backing up and beginning to resemble a parking lot.  I opted to take the 1st Avenue exit and travel along Boundary Road to Marine Way and access the Queensborough Bridge via this route.

I was making a special trip this evening as I was on my way to pick up the books I’d ordered.

This would be the first time I saw my work in print.

I cruised along extremely well and motored to Big Bend shopping centre where the traffic kinda slowed to crawl and sorta stopped altogether at times.

I cranked the radio and checked the gas gauge.  I had a 1/4 tank and should be just fine.  I switched the engine onto economy the sat back and sang out of tune to the songs on the radio.

Time wise I really wasn’t worried as U.P.S. closes at 8:00 PM and it was just 4:40 PM.

The minutes ticked by as the gas gauge slipped closer to empty.  The wild imagination that inhabits this head of mine began to nibble anxiously as the possibility of running of gas surfaced.

I reassured myself and my vehicle that we would be fine.

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An hour and half on the road and I was now approaching the bridge deck to the Queensborough.

Several traffic reports confirmed that accidents or breakdowns had somehow occurred on every bridge this day seemingly.

Michael Jackson crooned, “I wanna rock with you, all night…”

“You’ll get there” I whispered and ran my hand along the steering column like I would a familiar lover.

I squirted past the accident scene, saying a prayer and hoping no one was hurt.  I needed gas and I had to pee!

I seldom venture into this part of the world.  Surely there was a gas station somewhere around here?  Hadn’t I noticed one at some point?

I was down to an 1/8 of a tank when I saw the U.P.S. building and pulled in.

There was a fellow in front of me wanting to courier a watch face embedded with diamonds.  He wanted to insure it for more than $500 which was the limit U.P.S. apparently sets.  A kindly woman was on the phone making an inquiry on his behalf.

Twisting my legs a little tighter, I really didn’t mind waiting, I just need to pee!

The woman gave the fellow the phone so that the individual with the expertise could better explain to him why there was a cap on courier insurance.

After a moment she smiled and asked “Are you picking up a parcel?”

I grinned back “Yes.”

I handed her the tickets then asked if there was a washroom I could use.

She showed me where I could find relief.  Ahhhhhh!

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Upon my return the fellow had left and the woman retrieved my package.

My heart suddenly skipped a beat and crazy excitement began to build.

Completing the transaction my final question was where I might locate a gas station.

She gave me directions and it really wasn’t far.  Now I had the car gassed up and a box full books…my books.

I got back on track and head home to New Westminster.

A warm pleasure ran through me then.  I had been on the road for just over two hours and that was cool.  I was now basking in a strange warm glow as I maneuvered back through rush hour traffic.

The euphoria was building as I crawled back over the bridge.  I pulled out my nail clippers and opened the box then fished about and pulled out a book.  Reaching out I ran my hands along the cover and felt the tears sting my eyes.

I needed to record this moment and I needed food.  There was no way I could cook as every part of my being had surrendered to the sweet emotions that had engulfed me when I saw my first ever book in print.

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I order some food and a beer then opened the book reverently.

I gazed down at the dedication page and burst into laughter.  My first grammatical error glared at me.

To my daughter I wrote, “Not a day goes by that I do not appreciate the woman you ‘has’ become!’

I shook my head and smiled.  That’s just me trying so hard to get it right.

My daughter did the cover and I love it.  It works.

I knew I would come across a few spelling and grammar issues but I did try my damnedest to get it right.

And then I was just so overwhelmed by all of it.  I did it!  I really did!

This is a first.  This is a moment that will never come again.

Mistakes and all I’ve put it out there and bared my soul in the process.

While writing this book I found a strength and truth in my vulnerability that surprised me.

In doing this I am experiencing a  rush so sweet and pure….this is the first time.

Let me savour this for just a moment or two.

Peace.

 

The Birth of a Dream


 

 

http://www.amazon.com/This-Mind-Memoir-Nancy-Pilling/dp/0993846025/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1424326821&sr=8-1&keywords=With+this+in+Mind

(Above is the link to Amazon.com)

Here I am on the edge about to plunge into the world of publishing.

I’ve crossed over from dreaming about it, to making it real.  The book has now been published.

(See above)

And there is this part of me that still doesn’t quite believe it…pinch me!

There was for a moment that insecure part of me that insisted ‘It’s not good enough.’  These are the demons that have bound me in ‘If only…’ for the majority of my life.

I am past ‘If only…’

I am past ‘I wish I could…’

I am at ‘I can and I will.’

I’ve been thinking about some of the past conversations I’ve had with members of my writing groups.  We’ve discussed success and what it means to each of us.

I can tell you this.  Any one who writes a book and wants to publish it really does want to see their work do well.

We want to reach out to the masses and emote, entertain, touch and inspire.

We want our voice heard, understood in whatever genre we’ve chosen to express our creative self.  We look for acknowledgement.  In all the words we writers’ pen, they hold a part of our soul.

I’ve read obscure books that were brilliant.  I’ve read books so poorly written that were best sellers.

And the difference comes down to marketing.

A  few years back a fellow who attended a couple meetings of our writing group had published a book on Amazon.  Excitedly I asked several questions and then he told us that he’d taken it down after a week as there had been no sales.  I pressed for more information wanting to know what his marketing strategy had been.

There in lay the problem…he didn’t have one.

You can write the best book ever but you still have to market it and let the masses know its there.

Books do not and never will sell themselves.

Nothing will for that matter.

Vince appears on our TV screen and slices and dices his way into our homes convincing us that our lives will be so much better with this little gadget he’s selling.  How we’ve managed to get by without this item in our lives is really quite extraordinary.

I’ve watched infomercials and purchased items believing that I will benefit.

When the Dermawand was being marketed I had just entered into my 50’s.  With the promise of aging skin being tightened I had to at least give it a try, didn’t I?

And I did.

We’ve been inundated with products that will make our lives that much better.

Kitchen, beauty, diet and fitness items top the list.

Take this pill  and lose all the weight you want.  Workout just 15 minutes a day on this machine and you’ll have that six pack you’ve always wanted…guaranteed.

Hmmm  Really?

And now I’m thinking how to market this book…honestly.

Will it change your life?

I don’t know but it changed mine.

I hope that my book will bring some insight into the issue of abuse.  I hope that it will offer comfort on some level to those who’ve experienced this.  I hope they’ll know they have choices and they are not alone.

I want to work toward a day where we move past judgments, move past negative energy and move past living as victims.

And while I’ve mentioned those demons that still haunt, still taunt, I do know that they will never take away what I’ve found.  They are simply echoes from another time.

I hope you’ll read my book and that you’ll take something from the words I’ve written and the memories I’ve shared.

I can’t ask for anything more than that.

Peace.