Sunday, November 8, 2015

5 - What do I want to do when I grow up

 
5th Chapter assignment
I need to write for 30 minutes quickly what I read in 5 tabloids. I don’t read tabloids. I don’t like tabloids.
I like health and Energy and direction. I like reiki, chair massage, and oils. I am certified in the first two. Should I go for the third?  I like writing. Maybe I need another certification  for the credentials to write about the goodness of this stuff, no matter what age.
Maybe I should write on running in my sixties. How I loved it. Why I stopped. Why I am not doing it now. Or write about finishing a cabin when I didn’t know what the heck I was doing.  It’s still not done, either. I still don’t know what I’m doing.
Mellow Moments is the great new business Lynette and I are starting.  We do our first ladies' spa afternoon next Saturday in Sacramento from 2 to 5 pm.  We will see how we like it and how they like it. Each lady will get 15 minutes of chair massage and 15 minutes of reflexology. As a bonus, they will be tasting a couple Lodi wines, and or having some herbal teas with local honey.
It feels good to do nice things for people and get paid for it. Supply and demand? 
It also feels good to have a job that makes me feel valuable. I hope I can have a new niche with Adventist Health and still feel valuable. I enjoy troubleshooting people’s computer issues. I enjoy finding someone to help them further in an expedient time frame. That’s also helping people. (I see a thread here.)
I like knowing network stuff and wish I knew more.  I like contacting support. I like understanding what I do. I like checking backups and searching for problems.
What do you like to do?  If you like what you do and you can still do it well…cool. Keep doing it. What floats your boat, as they say? We all know that life can be way too short. So why not do what we love and what gives us value in our own minds?  It’s good stuff.
I myself don’t want to lose face in front of the people I have worked with. I don’t want them watching   to see if I can still "hold my own".  I want to know when to ease out gracefully. It may be sooner or later. I don’t know yet. I know I don’t like stress in my job.  Stress, when it weighs heavy on your shoulders, is not a healthy thing. However, there is stress that can be good if it inspires you to work harder and dig deeper.
I always wanted to be an expert at “something”. I wanted more and didn’t go for it because I didn’t know what to go for. I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grew up.   I only know I like to help and be appreciated.  I like people to think I’m great at what I do and I just saved their day. I get that response now and then. It’s nice.  We flourish with such rewards.
I was introduced as the one who answers the phone last week when some new bosses came into our department. Knife in the gut.  I have to remember my peers appreciate and sometimes rely on me for the things I know and they aren’t familiar with.  That makes me feel so good.  I am also proud to be trustworthy, positive, and a dependable team player. I feel that is huge, at least in my eyes.   
Where I’m at is where I want to be, when I really think about it.  I am not a slave to my job.  I like to hike, write, work and play at my beautiful cabin, and do a few crafts. And like my brother, who is an expert at expensive crafting, my stuff is given as gifts, whether someone wants it or not.  Funny.  My brother’s crafts could be in expensive catalogues and stores.  People pay big bucks for the kinds of things he makes. (One-of-a-kind knives and lamps, etc.) He gives it away!   It is worth so much.  He made me a lamp out of a log piece with elk teeth implanted in it. You, my reader, would possibly love to have it. And I have a vegetable chopper with and elk-horn handle you would also pay dearly for if you saw it in a catalogue.  To me it's worth an unquestionable amount of love. And love cannot be bought and paid for. 
Writing sure helps me sort things out.   You should try it, too.  

Saturday, June 27, 2015

A Broken Hallelujah

This song touches something deep inside me.  It's a meditative song. So much to think about.  Is it religious? Not really. A "broken" hallelujah.
It's that my life?  A broken hallelujah?
  When the love of your life, the one you trusted,  the one who made you feel secure and the one who made you laugh, died a hideous and painful death in three quick months, everything changes.  Your faith changes.  You still believe.  At least I did and do. But preaching to others? I can't hold up the Story. It's not for me to hold. God is for everything and everyone.  God cried and mourned with me, but he didn't heal or change the outcome.  He knew I was broken.  He knew I was angry.  He knew I could stumble on alone.  I have. I have stumbled. I have accomplished a few things.  It isn't enough.  I selfishly want more.  

Chapters two and three

What are writers?
Smart
Good vocabulary
Imaginative
Introvert
Intuitive
Appreciative
Satisfied
Happy
3
Pretending I'm sitting under a tree, my back resting against the trunk. A storyteller rests on the other side. What 5 kinds of stories do I want to hear?
1 peace in the mountains
2 bears dancing on the deck
3 the raccoon peer in the window
4 no water brings predators.  What to do?
5 joy in accomplishments