Safety First…or last…it’s whatever.

My Beloved Nephew and I were talking the other night about risk management. He was contemplating something that could change his life, but couldn’t decide which route to take. Which risk was worth it?

Some risks are acceptable, because they are very small, & not likely to cause a shift in your life. They’re easy, both to take, & to live with.

Example – trying a new food. This might end up as a foodgasm, & you’ll want to consume this again, or it could be an ashy dumpster fire, & you’ll wretch, vowing to never let this cross your palate in this lifetime.

Risk assessment? Low, go for it. ✅

Other risks are – possibly life altering, in that they could bring either positive, or negative equity into your life. These risks could move you forward into your goals, sparking joy & abundance…

Or they could draw you into an emotional, financial hole that would be difficult to crawl back out of again.

Risk assessment? Medium to high. Research, research, research. Maybe ask an opinion from someone trusted. Try to see what the benefit-to-loss ratio is. Write down pros & cons. Weigh & measure everything before deciding.🚧

And, of course, there are some risks that are simply too.

Too dangerous.⁉

Too embarrassing.❌

Too awful.⛔☢☣

Too deadly.☠️

Abort commencement. Please back away from the door…it’s on fire… and emitting noxious gasses.⁉❌⛔☢☣☠️

I’ve been rolling along, lately, trying to manage my life by taking only ✅ risks. Sure, it’s a whole lot more comfortable to live this way financially, geographically.

But, I’m left, emotionally, canceled.

This is bland, boring, quiet (which, yeah, I like my solitude & quiet, but sheesh), and I need something else. Something more than taupe, slate and oyster. Something a little more lime, crimson and onyx.

This is where I kind of fell down the philosophical rabbit 🐰 hole in the conversation.

What in your life is guaranteed?

I mean, rock-solid, certified, absolutely concrete, as a result of a myriad of choices throughout your existence?


That’s it. Everyone gets a one-way ticket. What’s at the destination? *shrug* No fricking idea, but we’re all going, sooner or later.

Nothing, and I do mean NOTHING else carries a platinum-plated guarantee like this.

Everything else in our lives is mutable, ever-shifting, transitory & possible/impossible.

Warranties and guarantees are for large appliances.

What does this mean?

Well, for me, this means I need to start getting off my ass, taking only the ✅ risks.

I need to start contemplating the 🚧 risks. I need motion, action, & research. Cause-Effect.

I’m tired of stagnating and waiting for something to come along. Waiting for my life to truly start.


I’m 50 years old.

My life started without me a long time ago, and has been chugging along, watching me sit on the sidelines. It’s been mocking me for years for my inactivity.


Comfort is a lie. The only way to truly be alive is to always be at least mildly uncomfortable.

Because if you’re not uncomfortable, you won’t shift to change anything.

And that, is death.

The only true comfort, is 6 feet underground, with your eyes closed on this plane forever.

-“Get busy living, or get busy dying, the only sin is lack of trying”

I know, Stephen King wrote the first part of that in the Shawshank Redemption, but I would swear another of my favorite authors, Robert Heinlein, wrote that in his classic Time Enough for Love. (I’ll have to go back & reread it for the 50th time to check)

Anywho, the sentiment stands.

‘Cause I’m not ready to be dead.

There’s Nothing Wrong With It

There’s nothing wrong with being “in the dark” for a while.

Even the sun sets every night.

There’s nothing wrong with being “down”, sometimes.

What goes up, must come down.

There’s nothing wrong with experiencing every mood that crosses your day.

It’s a sign that you’re mentally healthy if you are actually feeling things as they happen.

There’s nothing wrong with being in a good mood one moment, and not the next.

Even the ocean has tides it must adhere to.

Life is a cycle, live it as it comes to you.

If it’s dark…maybe you’re meant to learn to use your other senses for a while. Or maybe you’re meant to become the light. Only you will know what that darkness means for you.

When the light returns…

Rejoice in the colors that surround you. Because this cycle, too, shall pass.

EVERY moment is temporary.

Don’t forget this.

Translate Me

There’s a code,

Written into the pieces of me

Mysterious and complex

It speaks in forms unknown

Turning this on, turning that off

Flipping genetic switches at seeming random

Lighting fires within, only to douse them later, with no explanation or apology

It’s a book, 50, 100, 1 million volumes thick, written in a language I cannot read

My own body and mind, a saga I cannot comprehend without another’s key.

“The Divine Mystery” some may call it, as they turn away from the puzzle to things they can digest. The depth and breadth of the conundrum too much for them to contemplate, they have no further wish to attempt the struggle.

But for me, I wish to delve deeper, to try to understand the whys and wherefores, the hows and whats of Me.

I seek, not only to understand for my own self, but to translate – to gain understanding, the internal “ah-hah!” from others. To see the light go on when they understand that I am the way I am because…THIS. And THAT. And THESE.

Logic and science dance seductively with emotion and faith, all swirling in their patterns together, intertwining in hypnotic rythmns, only to break violently & inexplicably from each other for no apparent reason. Then, quietly meeting again in the middle of the dance floor, to touch hands & make apologies, while agreeing to disagree.

Where does the dance begin? How does it end? And what is the meaning of that complicated bobble of steps in the middle? These are things I seek, words I reach for.

But first, I must decode my skin, my organs, my brain. I must Translate Me.

And that…might take a minute.

*written in response to the Daily Prompt*

Wise Old Words


And now, for a few words from the “Wise” Old Witch…

Spend what time you have wisely, for once it’s passed, you don’t get it back, and you can’t change it.

Do what you love.
Do what makes you happy.
Do the things that stir your passions, that excite your senses, that fuel the fire that lives within.

Spend your time with people who encourage you, who challenge you & push you to be better, to be more, than you are today, for they’re the ones who will help you fill that time with love, contentment, happiness & fulfillment.

Walk your path with your head up, eyes open & heart willing, for you will never walk this way again.

As another wise old bastard once said :

“When the ship lifts, all debts are paid. No regrets.” ~Robert Heinlein

Word to the Wise

My nephew calls me The Oracle.
I don’t know about that, but I do have some insights.  And most days, I feel pretty old.

So, like it or not, I’m going to start sharing these with you, because it’s my blog & I can do that.

Cue the inspiring music…


Time for Wise Old Woman Says:

In regards to men needing someone to “look after them” all the time – I told a friend…

“What’s good for the goose– is good for the goose. Let the ganders sort out their own feathers. If you don’t make yourself happy first, you can’t possibly be part of making anyone else happy. If he’s being a jerk, he deserves all the ornery you can dish out, so give him both barrels!”

See how smart I is?
I’ll share again soon, you lucky lil whippersnappers!

There is no such thing as Pure Truth.
There are half-truths, opinions and theories,  little white lies, fibs and falsehoods.

All tinged with truth, shaded with it- saturated, sometimes,  but never wholly pure.

Truth is fluid and changing, flexing itself around the circumstances and actions of those viewing it.  It slides around corners, twisting itself into complicated knots; then suddenly unwinding into simplicity and clarity at the oddest moments.

But, never is there a pure and shining one and only Truth.

Opinion varies the hue of Truth, according to the person living in the moment of it.

Challenging to seek, impossible to hold onto, Truth squirms in the grasp of the Seeker, slipping from their grip, only to shine enticingly at them from behind the next tree, down at the end of the next forest path.

If only I could get to the Truth, you sigh and gaze longingly after its escape.
I’d be happy if I could just know the Truth.

But the Truth can be a hive of wasps for the Seeker. It stings and burns those who have not prepared, armored themselves against the possibility of pain.  It scars, Truth does.  Searing a path of light in its wake, it clears away all distraction, all the garbage we surround ourselves with in our daily lives.

It strips away the defenses and leaves you vulnerable and bare to its blazing light.

But it can also set you free.
As long as you don’t seek to keep it hostage.

Truth is subjective.  Your Truth and mine are not alike, possibly wouldn’t be friends, maybe wouldn’t even notice each other in passing or lift a hand in hello.

If you seek Truth, keep this in mind.
Truth is never pure.
It may cause you pain.
But along the way, if you let it…
It can set you free.

Philosophical Sunday

I’m feeling rather introspective today.

In the last few days, I’ve had occasion to take a long look at who I was, who I am, who I’m becoming.  I’ve thought a lot about what it was that I used to want, what I need to get where I want to go, and whether the “needs” and the “wants” really match up, or whether they’re incompatible.

And I wish I could tell you that I have any answers to the questions I’ve been posing to myself.

But *sigh* I don’t.

The questions are still all there, swirling around in my head, spinning me in a million different directions, and never letting me stand still long enough to grab a point of reference to hold onto.

But, funny thing?  Even with all the chaos inside my brain, all the questions and frustrations of the past few days – I’m oddly calm.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m ultimately happier when life is in a constant state of flux.  When changes happen one after another, I don’t have to sit and worry; I have to act – react – and adapt. 

Yeah, I like the quiet times too.  I love being able to sit, just in one moment and be.  I like the calm of a still afternoon, spent relaxing, listening to music, or my children’s laughter, or just the play of the wind through the trees. 

But, those moments aren’t meant to last.  Those perfect spaces of stillness and balance are transitory, finite.  It is their temporary nature that makes them so wonderful, because you know that they don’t last.  That forces you to stop, “smell the roses”, and enjoy it, because you know that it’s not permanent.  The winds die down, the flowers wilt, the sun sets, and the moment is over.

Things change.

Things stay the same.

Both statements are true.

I am in the middle of changing my life.  I’ve already made a few of the changes – and whether they’ll be positive ones or not, will remain to be seen.  There are more changes coming, I can see them working their way toward me from down the road.  Some decisions are going to be harder than others, and I don’t know yet how I’ll react to the situations.  Some of the decisions have me really frustrated, because of the variables that refuse to sit still and behave in predictable ways.  The logic circuits are not functioning at full charge all the time, which leaves me confused and exhausted.  And there are times when I think about just chucking those issues out the window, “turtling up” and hibernating while the storms pass overhead. 

But something keeps me moving forward. 

Maybe it’s the idea that there’s a better moment up ahead. 

Yes.  A better moment.  With wind in the trees overhead, flowers in bloom, the sun dancing through the leaves….. and a second of balance – before the next change.

I’ll be ready.  I’ll be waiting. 


Friday Filosophy 4/22/11


I used to have a lot of it. 

And I’ve noticed… it’s returning.  With something of a vengeance.

Which… is not always a good thing.

In fact, it can backfire, badly, sometimes, and leave me shaking my head at myself.

When I was a teenager, I was very intense.  Emotionally and vocally, I was out there.  When I was out with friends, I was the one jumping up and down, screaming, laughing, dancing, singing.  I could also be all “sharp edges” and short-tempered.  I was known among some of my friends as “The Dragon Lady” for my ability to cut people down with my vicious tongue and oversized vocabulary. 

I was also the one that my best friend called “The Terminator”.  And not just because I was a firm with my kids, once I had them.  I was the one to take down people who would get obnoxious with either myself or my friends.  I wouldn’t start fights, but I sure knew how to finish them.  Usually, just with words. 

I also had a strong passion for things.  When I found something to fall into, I would give my whole self over to it.  My writing was one of those things.  Stories, poems, etc. that I wrote, were things that I felt strongly about.  My heart and soul were poured into each line.  I’m not saying that all of it was good, but some of it, I’m still quite proud of.  Life was full of vivid colors and sharp contrasts.

Then, I changed. 

I became all about smoothing the way, for myself, for everyone else.  About making life easy for those around me, and compromising, sometimes to my own detriment.  I would shift like a chameleon, fitting into whatever crowd I happened to be around.  Talking about the same things, not pushing myself forward much, mostly just being the shoulder and the ear, there if anyone needed me, but not being too loud or obvious.

And inside, something started to wilt.  The passion I used to have for everything – dimmed.  And life was more about grays, muted colors, and whitewash.  Blend in, don’t stick out too far, don’t be too proud of anything you do, because that’s just bragging.

Until the day I woke up, and decided I wasn’t the person I wanted to be, anymore.

And then, slowly, at first, the intensity started to return.  

Now?  I find myself struggling at times to contain the emotions again.  With everything that’s been going in my life, the emotional ups and downs have been pretty high up, and pretty low down.

And some of the people closer to me… are starting to feel the strain.

I know that at times I can be an exhausting person to be around.  And I apologize for that, when I know that I go overboard with things that I say or do.

Just keeping up with my own mood swings gets to be a bit much some days.

But I know, that soon, very soon, things will start to balance again.  I’ll find that point where I can stand, and be open, honest, and out loud, without being obnoxious. 

Those that have seen me like this before, know that the tornado never lasts.  The storm blows over, and I start to pick up the pieces, calmly, happily, peacefully.  It doesn’t happen a lot, but the ones that have stuck with me through the storms, are valued and priceless people in my life.

They are survivors.

There ought to be a badge for that.

Friday Filosophy 4/8/11

Aristotle's School

Image by Ava Babili via Flickr

School is in – for me.

Philosophy is described by Wikipedia as: 

Philosophy is the study of general and fundamental problems, such as those connected with existence, knowledge, values, reason, mind, and language. It is distinguished from other ways of addressing such problems by its critical, generally systematic approach and its reliance on rational argument. The word “philosophy” comes from the Greek φιλοσοφία (philosophia), which literally means “love of wisdom”.

My philosophy when I was young, was pretty much to just be who I was, warts and all, and to Hades with anyone that didn’t like it.  There were times when I was rude, true, and there were times when I hurt people.  Not emotionally mature enough to take responsibility for my own actions, I stumbled and fell more than once – but I made it through that time –  In, more or less, one piece.

After I had my children, and got married, I settled down, learned how my actions affected others more fully, and formed a new philosophy.  That of “Service to Others over Self.” 

It was like taking a pendulum, and swinging it from one extreme to the other.  I stopped looking for what I wanted out of my future, or, at least, stopped really striving for it.  My philosphy at that time was, “There will be time for me…. later”, after I’ve helped my kids, and my husband, be happy.  Oh, and all of my friends and family, too, and anybody else that might come along, in need of something I can give, or have, or might have… etc.  I was all about doing things for others, in the hopes that that might fill up my own cup of happiness, and in so doing, make me happy.

Somewhere along the line, my philosophy got me very unhappy.

And, going back to the original definition of “Philosophy”, my way of living my life, wasn’t being true to it’s own defining nature.  Because, if philosophy is the use of rational thought to solve the problems of life, then I was not doing it right.

I wasn’t rational, nor was I truly thoughtful. 

That’s why, I’m working on a new philosophy.

Here are some random thoughts, that might give you an insight into why I need a new philosophy for my life.

1.  Since I told people that I was planning on getting a divorce, I’ve been constantly amazed with just how people on the outside – looking in – viewed the person I was, versus the person I used to be, and the person I am becoming now.  I didn’t realize that I’d changed so much, just in a few years.  It’s startling, and disturbing, all at the same time.  How could I not see… what everyone else seemed to?

2.  A gentleman tried to open a door for me just yesterday, and it confused me.  I’m so used to opening my own doors, or holding them for someone else, I didn’t realize he was trying to be polite.  I’m not used to others doing things for me, just because they feel like it, just because they feel like I’m someone worth being nice to.

3.  Last year, I was able to officiate at 3 weddings, and a handfasting, all right here in my city.  It felt great, being able to help others start out on new happiness.  This year, I’ve already been approached about doing 2 more ceremonies.  One, possibly a wedding on Halloween/Samhain in a city about 100 miles from here; and the other, a handfasting  (on my birthday, actually) in another city, in another direction, about 120 miles away.  Is this the universe’s way of telling me I need to branch out, or simply get out of town?

4.  This year alone, I’ve been contacted by no less than 4 people from my past, who I hadn’t spoken to in… what seems like decades, in some cases, and it’s been great!  Reconnecting has been, in every case, truly eye-opening, awe-inspiring, and revitalizing; and I’ve learned a great deal about myself, and them, in the process.  The people that are truly meant to be in your life, will be… even if they go away (or you do), and come back, years later.  At least one of these friends I only see every few years, and yet it’s like the time never passes when we talk again.  I call him “Cousin”, because I adopted him into my “chosen family” when I was just a teenager.  Sometimes, I was smart, even back then, during my “stupid teenager years”.  I need to learn to not let these people go in the first place.

5.  I want to be happy.  And I want to be “ME”.  Warts and all, I want to be able to be honest, and open, and still be content within my own skin.  I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror again… and smile at who I see there. 

The homework?  Is not easy.  But I’m working on it.  And that’s all I can do.

Phriday Philosophy 9/17/10

I’ve exhausted my stock of “Fun Facts” for a while, and my desire to post them is waning, so I’m going to change things up a bit.  Today, I’m starting something new.  Phriday Philosophy.  It may be actually thoughtful, or it may be a completely twisted take on something that has been rattling around in my brain.  We’ll see where this goes.

 Heroes, Villains and Sheep

A blogging friend, Laura, over at Fetch My Flying Monkeys raised a thought in my brain this morning.  She talked about an experience she had when she was a young woman, in which she had her faith in human nature and compassion shaken to the core. 

Which begs the question:  Why?

Why are there people that instantly rise to the occasion, doing what needs to be done, taking the hero’s role in the story – the “Everyday Joe – or Joan” that performs a heroic act of compassion?  What makes them dive in at the first hint of chaos, willing to possibly put themselves at risk for another?  Does this make them heroes – or just people doing what any “normal” person would do?

My parents were both Volunteer First Responders for years.  We lived in a rural area where the nearest ambulance and hospitals were 30 minutes away, in either direction; which meant that emergencies could turn to tragedies very quickly.  The First Responders were local people, trained, but not licensed, with big orange medical bags full of advanced first aid, that could get to the farms quickly, call for ambulance and rescue with their radios when phones weren’t available, and help the injured, sick, etc. until the ambulance could reach them.

My parents taught me that people are basically good, but that you shouldn’t rely on it.  Instead, you should rely on yourself, and your knowledge of right and wrong to help you make a decision when confronted with an emergency.  Can you help – or will you only be in the way?  If you’re in the way, do you need to be the one to call for outside assistance?  Is there ANYTHING you can do to help?   There are 3 choices, and all of them have lasting consequences.   For a lot of people, they freeze when confronted with these choices.

Choice 1: Villain-  Some, honestly, really don’t care, as long as it’s not happening to them.  They may not be working to make the emergency situation worse, but they are completely apathetic until dragged, screaming, into the middle of it.  I classify them as villains.  Apathy shouldn’t be tolerated, or it is condoning it.  And of course, they never see themselves in the “villain” light, they’re just “Looking out for Number #1”.  (more like Number#2, if you ask me)   

Choice 2:  Sheep-  Most fall into this category.  Really.  It’s an effect of Mass Hysteria.  People don’t like stepping away from the herd, they like predictability and safety in numbers.  And when that is shaken through tragic events, they freeze like an animal in front of the headlights.  They freeze, panic, and lose all functionality;  their thought processes seem to grind to a complete halt.  They have to be “woken up” out of their shock to respond to outside stimuli.  It’s sad, but it’s a fact of life.  Sheep need to be led.  Or herded.

Choice 3:  Hero-  They are out there, I promise.  You might not see them, or if you do, you probably won’t recognize them without their uniforms.  They could be doctors and nurses (active and retired), EMTs or First Responders, dishwashers, plumbers, furniture salesmen, secretaries, waiters and waitresses, cooks, bakers, candlestick makers.  You won’t know them by their faces, you’ll know them by their actions.  They stand up on the bus for the pregnant lady to sit, they help an elderly person load their groceries in their car, they’ll hold a harried mom’s little one while she writes a check at the  store.   They’ll go to another country to help teach local rescue people how to be heroes too.

They’ll stop whatever they’re doing to save a life.  They’ll push themselves to exhaustion and out the other side, if that’s what it takes to keep someone breathing until help can arrive.  They are the people that, when lightning strikes, they’re off and running towards the fire it leaves behind, ready to put it out, pull people from the flames, or whatever’s necessary to be of service.

And that’s really what’s behind it.  The big questions that decide what type of person they are.

Villain- What service does this do for me?  What do I get out of this?

Sheep- What?  Service?  What’s that mean?  Ooh, look, that’s so bad.  I’m scared of it.  Where’s the service that takes care of this kind of thing?

Hero- How can I be of service today? 

A Villain can be changed into a Hero, but not into a Sheep.  A Sheep can become either, given the right “wake-up” call. And a Hero?  Well, they’ll remain Heroes their whole lives.  Just ask my parents.  A Hero’s work is never done.

Thus ends today’s philosophy session.  Thank you for letting me explore this with you.  Questions?  Comments?  All are welcome.