For Posterity

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “For Posterity.”

Your blog just became a viral sensation. What’s the one post you’d like new readers to see and remember you by? Write that. ~ Daily Prompt

We have only one world and we all need to work together to make this world last; not just last, but become better. We need to love each other more. We need to be kind to each other more. We need to care about the animals of this earth. We need to care about earth. We need to care about peace and create a world of peace.

People, stop the hate. Stop the violence. Stop the greed. Instead, stop and think. What kind of world do you want to leave behind for your children and your children’s children? Do you want to leave behind a world filled with hate, greed, and violence? Is this what you want your children to remember you by?

Do you want to leave behind a world where certain species of animals have gone extinct because of your greed and hard heartedness? Look at how we are treating the animals of this earth. Do we want to be remembered for this?

What do you want your eulogy to say? What do you want your children to think of you? What type of world do you want to leave for them?

Me too.

Change the World

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Be the Change.”

What change, big or small, would you like your blog to make in the world? ~ Daily Post 1/2/15

It is highly unlikely that my blog would make any major changes in this world. But if I can make a difference for the better in even just one person’s life, it will have been worth it.

This world has too much hate, bitterness, and ugliness. What is needed is people who love, care, and understand each other and the more this happens, then this world becomes a better place.

My blog may not make bells ring or fireworks explode, but when I feel I have made the difference, for the better, in someone else’s life, then those bells ring and fireworks explode for me. (And hopefully, also for the other person).

Who knows? Maybe we can end wars, stop hate, bigotry, and bitterness in the world – just one blog at a time. My blog and your blog.

All of us together as one, can make all the difference that this world needs – to change.

New Person Me

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “New Skin.”

If you could spend the next year as someone radically different from the current “you” — a member of a different species, someone from a different gender or generation, etc. — who would you choose to be?

Given this choice, I would choose to be me. I would be the me I was in the past with one exception. Knowing what I know now, I would change all the things that I could change. (Hindsight is 20/20).

First, I would not have gotten married quite so young and second, I would quickly dump the marriage counselor that my husband and I went to. I would know that all our marriage needed was better communication with each other and certainly not what the “counselor” suggested.

I would have that third child that I wanted to have. (My medical professional talked me out of it). However, at that time I was not aware of his dubious intentions.

My more mature self would know that happiness is inside myself and not outside myself. I would have more fun with my family and work harder at being a better wife, mother and person.

Going back to my past, I would take a mental health professional with me so I could get the medications and professional help I needed that were not available during that time.

I would know that true fulfillment is knowing you are doing the very best you can in your circumstances, contributing to the betterment of this world, and raising and nurturing a wonderful and loving family.

After making these changes, there would be no other changes (that I am currently aware of) of which would need to be made.

I am a brand new person now, and this is such a wonderful way to start a new year.

Happy New Year!

HappyHappy JoyJoy

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Happy Happy Joy Joy.”

The last time I cried tears of joy? Frankly, I don’t usually cry tears of joy, with the exception of the birth of my children. Those tears came each time I held my beautiful and healthy new baby in my arms. They were tears of joy mixed with tears of relief (the painful labor was over) and the wonderful result was lying in my arms.

I do remember crying tears of joy and relief when I realized the severe depression and paranoia I had been suffering with for years had finally lifted and I could, in fact, feel joy again. My depression had slowly consumed me. It felt as though I was in a pit and suddenly the bottom fell out.

I will never take feeling joy for granted. Not after what I went through. For a very long time I felt that I would never smile again, much less feel joy again.

Many people do not realize that those who suffer severe depression do not have the control to shut it off at their own will. It consumes you and takes control. It does not allow you to “just turn it off.” Particularly if it is caused by a chemical imbalance. In order to overcome it, it takes an enormous amount of work and the correct medication. I believe doctors have become better trained for mental illness and chemical imbalances and that medications have evolved to produce much more satisfying results than they did in years past.

This post is suppose to be about joy and not depression. But, how do you know what joy feels like if you do not also know the pain of sadness?

I can safely say, without a doubt, that true joy is priceless.

To each person reading this, I wish you a very Happy New Year and I wish you the best of everything wonderful.

Peace, Love, JOY and Hugs

PJ

The Life of H2O

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly writing challenge: “Ice, Water, Steam.”

Among all the other little droplets of water, high in the sky was I. There were so many of us that our cloud became too heavy and it rained many of us onto the dry clay earth.

The earth turned into a puddle and many of us swam around in the puddle for awhile until the earth became so cold it froze. We were no longer droplets of water. We became crystals. Beautiful mesmerizing crystals.

Then the sun came out and melted the crystals back into droplets of water. Some of the drops remained on this earth and others turned into gas and some of us floated back up to the big sky to become part of the clouds. Every time it rained more and more droplets of water stayed on the earth. It has rained many times and therefore there are many water drops on this earth.

There were so many water drops on the earth that it became crowded. And, the water drops began to soak into dry clay and became a muddy mess. There were many wars during this time. Many wars and many mud people that died. Still, they didn’t learn. They didn’t learn not to hate each other or not to try and control each other. They didn’t learn how to love one another and make this world a beautiful place. Instead, they remained mud. And the world remained muddy. The more crowded it became, the messier it became. The world was a very messy place. Hate, anger, bitterness and vengeance ruled this muddy earth.

Then one day the Sun God came out and it was very very hot. The mud dried up and became clay again. The mud people cried for the lack of water and their thirst was mighty and awful. They cried and begged for water. The sun continued to beat upon them until they turned into sand. (Me and the others that are still in the cloud in the form of a drops of water are told to stay there for a very long time). We could hear the terrible cries of the mud people to the God of Moisture and Life. But still, it did not rain.

The Big Winds came from the Wind God and blew all the sand around and around until each piece of sand was somewhere different upon the dry earth. Land masses and islands began to form and Mother Nature God came and controlled all the animal and plant life upon the earth.

Animals began to roam the earth. Many and various kinds of animals. They walked upon these land masses, made by the mud people, and it is this land that give these animals life.

The God of Moisture and Life decided it was time to rain and the rain fell and fell for many days and nights. The mud people that were now land masses cried with joy and many beautiful plants and flowers began to bloom from their land form. The God of Moisture and Life was happy and became one with the God of Mother Nature.

Rain forests, mountains, valleys, and more beauty than one eye can hold grew and became solid upon this earth, from one end of this earth to the other.

Then the God of Humans said, “I am going to make people from these drops of water and clay. But, this time, I will not give them possibility of knowing evil because there will be no evil. Instead, they will only know Love, Joy, and Peace. They will play with all the precious animals of the earth and tend to the beautiful plants, flowers and trees, and they will all love one another.

And all of the Gods, the God of Wind, the God of the Sun, the God of Moisture and Life (now one with the God of Mother Nature) agreed, “This is indeed good!”

The End

You Can Make It Anywhere

If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere,” goes the famous song about New York City. Is there a place — a city, a school, a company — about which you think (or thought) the same? Tell us why, and if you ever tried to prove that claim. ~ Daily Post


There was a time in my life when I became swallowed by severe depression. Each day I remember thinking, if I can get through this hour, maybe I can get through the next hour, and maybe, I can get through this day.

There were days when I felt I had taken one step forward and two steps back. There were days I didn't think I could make it through the hour much less the entire day.

The suffering experienced by severe depression is immeasurable. The pain is just as real and painful as physical pain, maybe even worse.

In my opinion, this is the reason there is so much suicide in our world today. From my own experience, I believe it is because of this pain. The very act is the desperation to escape it.

Did I think of suicide? Sadly, yes. I too wanted to escape the pain that had seized me in it's consuming and hideous grasp. Pain that wouldn't allow me peace. Pain that seemingly wanted only to destroy me.

With perseverance, I finally made it through it. I had finally climbed that difficult mountain. I climbed it one minute at a time, one hour at a time, and one day at a time.

Anyone who can climb this mountain and make it to the top, can make it anywhere.

Today, I may not be perfect, but I am 90% better than I was.

If you have severe depression, or even, depression, please, don't give up. Don't ever give up.

 

Spinning Yarns

What makes a good storyteller, in your opinion? Are your favorite storytellers people you know or writers you admire?

This is my take on this writing challenge. I am pretty sure it isn’t what The Daily Post had in mind. Hope you like it.

 

Once upon a time in a land far far away lived an old woman in the pages of a book for children. This old woman entertained these sleepy children every single night when their mother read them the stories she had told way back when, knitted together like a sweater that fits nice and snug, but not too snug, and keeps you warm at night while it spins you into dreamy sleep of fantasy maidens and hero knights.

Dragons lived during the time she told her stories during which she did indeed knit sweaters from the wool of the sheep which lived in the fields that were green rolling hills, dotted white with the wooly creatures that lived off this beautiful and dreamy land.

On top of the highest hill stood a castle tall and steep and magnificent it stood among the green rolling hills of this far-far away land, the land which the story teller lived in a time of long ago and far away.

The story teller wove her tales as she wove the white wool and entertained the people that lived during this time. She told the tales of the castle and of the maidens that lived there and of the knights who did indeed love these beautiful maidens who went to war against the dragons to protect them.

She told tales of these battles and the destruction of the dragons and how the maidens would celebrate when the hero knights returned, battle weary. There would be feasts and music of harps and flutes, dancing and merry-making.

She would tell these tales so well the listeners were among them, battling the dragons and winning the eternal love of the fair maidens. They could see what the knights saw, hear what the knights heard, and smell the smells the knights could smell. They too were a hero knight riding upon the back of their magnificent steed over the rolling green hills of this wonderful land or they were a fair maiden that waited inside the magnificent castle, for her own beloved knight to return safe from these terrible dragon wars.

The old woman wove many yarns both in her story-telling and her sweater weaving and entertaining these people of this far away land long, long ago. I know this to be true because I was one of the maidens that loved one of the knights, that battled against these terrible dragons, as I drifted off to sleep among the knights and maidens and rolling green hills in this dreamy far-away land.