A Minute with Meg

I have never had a Face book account. I never felt the need for one, and was always leery of some of the things that those who have those accounts would tell me about their Face booking experiences.

 After listening to them, I didn’t understand why I would want to tell people, friends or acquaintances, at any given time, what I was eating, when and with whom. Nor, did I really want to know that about anyone else, and from what they would tell me, it sounded like everyone was stating that they had an awesome mate, kids and life. Really… always?? Come on!

 I might be wrong about this, but I have a hard time believing that this is an accurate portrayal of what is really going on in people’s lives out there, based on my own lives experiences and talking to real people. I thought that it must make everyone else who may have been honest with how their lives were unwinding feel that they were somehow inferior to the fake lives postings on Face book.

 I am by nature a fairly private person who only shares things about myself with a small group of people, and then it is still not as detailed as what I am doing at any given moment in the day, so when I started to think about writing a blog about things that I was passionate about, (including the above statement about making people feel bad about themselves due to not so honest postings), I did so with apprehension and nervousness, but it was something I felt that I needed to do.

You see, I am also a very creative person, who loves to write, correction, needs to write.

 It started with a diary when I was just old enough to write, (still have that little red diary) and continued with journals, poems, songs, you name it; if it crossed my mind with any sense of passion, then I had to write about it, good or bad.

 Writing is my release from all of my emotions good to bad, all of my experiences, happy to sad, and chronicles of not only my life, but those around me as well. Usually my writings are kept to myself, for just me, so when I decided to start my blog; it was due to an overwhelming need that came from somewhere deep within me that urged me to share my writings.

Very scary stuff for a private person like me. Share my inner most thoughts on everything from my views on society to nature, with people I don’t even know? Oh My!

It was going to be a big step to say the least. What if no one read it? What good would that be, and how would I be helping anyone if no one read it, or worse, if they did read it, but didn’t like it. GULP!

Doing good for others was the feeling that got me started to want to write a blog to begin with, so that fear of not helping anyone due to lack of readers, kept me from proceeding with this goal for quite a while, but then one day, BAM, out of nowhere, I just went for it. I set up my page, and published my first article titled free. I had written it more than a year earlier, but the contents still applied, so it became my Guinea pig.

 I felt accomplished that I had gotten that far and past my fear that no one might ever even read it or like it. I was going to go through with this even if no one read it. (Here’s to you Mom- Give that IF a jolly good biff and set it stiff in the corner! Thank you!)

 I asked my sister, who is an avid reader, to read it and review my blog. She did and loved it. Now I know that she might be partial, but I continued on with adding more and more articles. She continued giving me feedback on each one, each time stating that she liked them and they were really good stuff. Thank you Laura!

 All I had really hoped for is that the passion that I felt for each article written would come through to the reader. That is all I still care about when I write.

 If I can help shed the light on something, make someone feel better and not so alone in a struggle they may be going through, laugh and maybe look at something in a different way, then I feel that I have done what I felt the need to do with each article.

 My number of followers on my blog are still small, and I know that some of my writings are pretty deep reading, but some things just need to be said, so I will continue on this journey in hopes of making this world, or at least someone’s world just a little better, one article at a time.

One of those days

 

It’s been one of those days where nothing in particular bad has happened, nor did I get up on the wrong side of the bed, but I am still feeling pretty down. No reason why, just am. It didn’t really start out as a bad day, but then again, it didn’t really start out as a great day either, just a day.

Oh, I have pinned more inspirational, motivational, upbeat quotes onto my pinterest board, than I have pairs of shoes, so according to all of those quotes, I know I shouldn’t feel down, but the fact is I still do.

I am so grateful for all the blessings that I have in my life, so feeling down makes me feel even worse that I would have the audacity to feel this way! AAAHHH!

I am used to being a cheerleader for everyone in my life, but not used to trying to be my own cheerleader. Not sure how to play this role, and am pretty sure that I suck at it.

I have to believe that tomorrow I will feel better, and it will once again be sunny for me, but today, BLAH…

I am pretty sure that this has something to do with me liking to be in control of things. In control of a lot actually, including my emotions, and right now, that is just not happening, for if it were, I would not be writing about this.

So, what to do to get through this? What advice would I give someone else in this same situation? Been there done that already and it’s not working for me. GGRRRRR!!

I guess that’s just life, it’s just one of those days and I have to quit beating myself up for not feeling happy.

As the saying goes,

“Momma said there would be days like this!”

I am going to look at this like I do so many things, look to nature. I am sure that all animals have down days, and they don’t feel bad about it, they just go with it as part of life, so I guess that’s the approach I will take too. Besides, only about 2 more hours and I can go to bed and hopefully have some great happy dreams. Tomorrow is another day. Sweet Dreams all!

See Me

Today's post is a poem not written by me, but found by my mother years ago when she worked as a nurse in a nursing home.

The message is strong and still true to this day. It is titled, See Me.

What do you see, nurses, what do you see?
Are you thinking, when you look at me --
A crabby old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with far-away eyes,
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply,
When you say in a loud voice -- "I do wish you'd try."

Who seems not to notice the things that you do,
And forever is losing a stocking or shoe,
Who unresisting or not, lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill.

Is that what you're thinking, is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse, you're looking at ME...
I'll tell you who I am, as I sit here so still;
As I rise at your bidding, as I eat at your will.

I'm a small child of ten with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who love one another,
A young girl of sixteen with wings on her feet.
Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet;
A bride soon at twenty -- my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep;
At twenty-five now I have young of my own,
Who need me to build a secure, happy home;
A woman of thirty, my young now grow fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last;
At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn;
At fifty once more babies play 'round my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead,
I look at the future, I shudder with dread,
For my young are all rearing young of their own,
And I think of the years and the love that I've known;
I'm an old woman now and nature is cruel --
'Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.

The body is crumbled, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone where once I had a heart,
But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells.

I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living life over again,
I think of the years, all too few -- gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last --
So I open your eyes, nurses, open and see,
Not a crabby old woman, look closer, nurses -- see ME!

This poem was found among the possessions of an elderly lady who died in the geriatric ward of a hospital. No information is available concerning her -- who she was or when she died. Reprinted from the "Assessment and Alternatives Help Guide" prepared by the Colorado Foundation for Medical Care.