The Word

Tag: family

  • Word of the Day

    Daily writing prompt
    What is the meaning of life?
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    Photo by Mikhail Nilov on Pexels.com

    Bold prompt! I’ll take a shot at it. I didn’t name my blog The Word for nothing.

    It’s interesting–being asked this question a decade ago was almost rhetorical, in that nobody had an answer and accepted it that way. I think some of us today have finally figured it out. Maybe. It’s all relative, of course.

    My belief is that the meaning of life on Earth is to fully experience being human. The human experience, meaning: Learning, growing, loving, hurting, healing, and doing it all through appreciative eyes. To live means to see the world for all its color, both bright and dark. Eventually one lives to learn that the whole color palette exists for enrichment; gray, black, bleak, and dreary do the same thing for us as the pinks, yellows, sunsets, and rainbows.

    I like the phrase “we’re all made of stardust.” I think that we’re essentially all One. We all come from the same consciousness. One of my favorite comedians/people in the public spotlight, Pete Holmes, does a cute bit in his everyday life where he refers to those he interacts with as “other me’s.” For example, he could be checking out at the grocery store and think of the cashier, “That Me is being super efficient today!” I love that exercise. It makes the Golden Rule make a lot more sense.

    I subscribe to the notion that in this life, the higher power is within us. Call it God(s), Universe, Love & Light, whatever name we want to use, but we come from “that” and return to that when our lives here come to an end. I call it Source. This gives me great comfort in understanding the meaning of life and “death”; the fact is, energy never dies. It only transforms. Everything here on Earth is made of energy. Our bodies, our minds; we’re 100% energetic beings. We don’t die, we transcend. We’re here to Live, Laugh, Love, cry, build, learn, choose, survive, experience, feel, hurt, grow, heal…I could go on forever. How lucky we are that we were given the opportunity to come to Earth and be human.

    I believe Source is probably Heaven–no pain, all love. We were all a bunch of energetic mish-mash in some light-filled bliss arena, waiting for our calling card to Earth. The concept of Heaven/Source is hard for us to understand after a while of being human. We forget about the value of our energy and consciousness once we’re conditioned enough. But, today in 2026, we’re waking up to the fact that our energy and frequencies are lucrative currency. The level at which you radiate energy attracts the same level back to you–low frequency attracts more low, high brings more high.

    Finding gratitude is the first step to raising your frequency; high vibrations lead you to the meaning of life. The part of your brain that lights up when anxious is the same part that lights up when you’re practicing gratitude. Therefore, they can’t be used at the same time–you can’t be anxious while you’re being actively grateful. Try this, and soon, you’ll be in awe at the richness of the color green of the grass and trees; wondering who first told you dandelions were a nuisance when they add so much color to the world; feeling your cells drink in vitamin D from the sunlight on your skin; thanking your lungs for the favor of fresh air. All that and more just from existing, and there’s still all that you have in your possession to be thankful for. It’s stunningly beautiful, this life on Earth.

    I feel my heart bursting with love and gratitude for my life every day. It didn’t happen overnight; I lived on autopilot for a long time, feeling stuck and unhappy and suffering internally. My story, if it ever gets told, needs its own post because it doesn’t fit in here. It boils down to this: I had a baby, quit my job, felt scared about it, and subsequently started a gratitude journal. I wrote down anywhere from five to twenty things I was grateful for every day, building up those new neural pathways. Doing this really did help me in my spiritual awakening (and ongoing journey). My mind now looks for things out of love instead of fear. I feel more at peace than I ever have before, and I’m so thankful that my daughter gets this version of me.

    I think that the goal in life, for everyone, regardless of circumstances, is to name those five to twenty things to be grateful for everyday. It’s finding that beauty, that excitement for living; it’s listening to your body, your higher self/inner voice/intuition, even though it can be scary. That’s what I think the meaning of life is: Knowing that no matter the path you take, the scene around you will always mirror the scene within you, and the opportunity is there to make it like Heaven on Earth.

  • Word of the Day

    Daily writing prompt
    How do you plan the perfect road trip?
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    This time, I’m making the writing prompt into a story.

    The Road I was Made to Travel

    Photo by Jonathan Cooper on Pexels.com

    “If you wait until the last minute, it only takes a minute.” These words echoed in my mind on repeat. Beads of sweat gathered on my brow and my heart raced as I tried to remember where my suitcase was.

    I didn’t put myself in this position. My boss did. If it weren’t for him, I’d be able to stay in town and keep making a lukewarm salary bookkeeping for his mid-sized company. Instead, I’m packing up my life into my mid-sized luggage to get away from him.

    The truth is, I did put myself here. It was my choice to take the bet–name the winner of this year’s PGA Championship. I’d picked Rory McIlroy because his name was the only one I knew, given that he won the Masters for the second time a couple months ago. Apparently that was the wrong name to say and now I’ve lost my comfort in life.

    The wager wasn’t about money for him. He needed a new deck. I stupidly told him I would build him said deck if McIlroy lost this weekend. He said he would give me a $20k bonus if he won. This guy, he’s such a prick. He makes more cash in an hour than I do in a week, and that’s 100% under his control. So yeah, I took the bet. Choose the new It Guy in golf, probably win a lucrative bet; lose and get exposed as a deck fraud, have a good laugh. Seemed like an easy decision at the time.

    It wouldn’t have been such a big deal if this boss of mine knew how to take a joke. Sure, he can laugh mighty loud as long as he’s at the winning end of it–but I set myself up really poorly here. Not only is his sense of humor questionable, but he’s one of those people who makes you follow through on your word. “You’ll build me a deck if Rory loses?” he’d asked. “I sure will!” I’d answered. Obviously that was a lie! Do I look like a deck builder? He should’ve known better. I have a beer belly the shape of a large desk globe and I pant after walking up the single flight of stairs to the office. I couldn’t build a deck with Legos.

    Being the jerk he is, he just has to see the best in people, so he believed me when I said I’d do it as long as he’d fork over that twenty grand when Rory won. This Rory guy really screwed me. Who is he, anyway? He should know he lost me my apartment, job, friendships, and lifestyle simply from not showing up to win this tournament. How hard could it be? Just win it, buddy! My life is in your hands!

    Since no one gave him the message, and since my boss insists on having integrity, I’m packing up my most treasured belongings and hitting the road. I refuse to face the music that I didn’t start playing. It’s the deck’s fault that it needs to be repaired, anyway. I can’t believe it started falling apart and needed to be fixed up for him. Thanks to Rory, Boss, and Deck, I have a road trip ahead of me that wasn’t planned at all.

    In a half hour, I was able to get my car packed. I only had a few things worth taking, anyway. I got a playlist of about 15 songs ready, three snack baggies of Doritos, and my cat in his carrier settled on the passenger seat. My boss planned on cashing in on his deck before tomorrow’s morning meeting, and I’ll be damned if I show my face on that zoom call. I can only cross my fingers that I have enough with me to last this life transformation.

    My car felt uncomfortable. I didn’t put any gas in it when I had the chance yesterday. I could tell my cat was getting restless since I hadn’t fed him yet that evening. Road trips are supposed to be fun and whimsical, so I bet on myself and my spontaneity; this was one bet I was sure to win, as long as my car, cat, and landlord don’t create any problems. If anything goes wrong on this trek, I know who to blame.

  • Inaugural Post, Part 1 of Series: What’s the Deal (with my dreams?)

    Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

    As I write this, I have a crick in my neck on the left side. It’s tense enough that I can’t comfortably bring my ear closer to my shoulder. It could be from how I’m sleeping; from my pillow and positioning on the physical plane, or from the intense dreams I’ve been having in the metaphysical realm. 

    I found out late in life that not everyone has dreams. Most people dream but don’t remember them. Fewer people dream and can recollect some of the nonsensical settings (“I was in my house, but it wasn’t my house…”). In this way, I think I’m abnormal. I’ve always had vivid, detailed, and sometimes lucid dreams. I can remember the settings in such artistic terms that, if I was a talented painter, I would create visual masterpieces of texturized landscapes emitting colors that we have yet to know on Earth. I can identify faces of people I haven’t thought about in decades. I could pick out of a lineup those who I’ve met for the first time in my dream, usually trying to escape them in a frenzied thriller-type, movie-esque dash across an unknown town, through buildings and alleyways and stadiums and pyramids. 

    When I was young, probably ten years old, I had my most memorable lucid dream. I was inside a pyramid, and everything in it was solid gold. It was a single floor with pillars supporting what could have been a second floor. I was inside a swimming pool with my neighbors, Lisa and Emily. The pool was filled with snakes.

    The three of us were immersed in the snakes, looking at each other, seemingly unbothered by what we were surrounded by. I remember thinking, “This isn’t what I would’ve figured snakes felt like around my legs…” and, shortly thereafter, one of them got bit. I think it was Emily. She cried out in fear, but not pain; once the fear subsided, she feverishly tried to convince Lisa and I to get bitten as well.

    “OUCH! I just–wait, that didn’t hurt. One bit me! It doesn’t hurt! Try it, guys!” Lisa and I looked at each other, each of us wading in the pool chest-deep in snakes instead of water. Lisa was easily sold into the opportunity, which I found strange, as I felt the opposite.

    “Ah! Me too, just now. Emily is right, it doesn’t hurt! Try it, Shannon!” she said excitedly. I gave them both a look and said, “You guys are nuts, I’m not falling for this,” and made my way to the ladder to exit. They kept goading me to experience this apparently blissful bite. 

    I eventually said to them, “I’m not doing it, you’re both stupid. I’m not stupid,” as I grabbed onto the round chrome ladder handle. When I noticed it was the only thing in there that wasn’t gold, my calf felt it–I’d gotten bit. They were right; it didn’t hurt. What hurt more was admitting this to them after I’d called them stupid and affronted my superiority. I did admit it to them, though. It was pretty cool after all.

    Not as impressed as my neighbors, I continued up the ladder and left the pool. They stayed in, loving the bite thing way too much. I walked out and around to the head of the pool when suddenly a massive, absolute giant of a king cobra shot up out of the center of it. I had this dream way before Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets came out, but that’s what this creature emulated in its size. It was a monster.

    Being the only one not in the pool, I stood to witness the king cobra violently reaching up towards the ceiling, lashing its head side to side, and spotting Lisa in the pool beneath it. I watched as this Godzilla-like serpent reached its jaws down to swallow her whole, lift itself back up toward the golden bricks above it, and set its sights on Emily.

    Emily was already halfway out of the pool before she was spotted, so I yelled to her, “RUN!” She listened to me and ran like crazy into the center of the pyramid. It was at this point that I felt truly scared; luckily, she was luring the predator away from me, so I found a hiding spot behind an L-shaped pillar and leaned into the corner to catch my breath.

    I remember it being almost cartoonish, but still I felt afraid. I peered out from behind the golden structure shielding me to see Emily running with arms flailed, the serpent following suit behind her, somehow without urgency. She cried out to me, “What do I do?!” I felt right then as if I’d been put in a pressure cooker, faced with evading a giant predator while also figuring out a logic puzzle. At that moment, I found the solution–and also became lucid. 

    “Emily! On the count of three, scream ‘WAKE UP.’ Ready?” I yelled. She was still running around in circles in the middle of the pyramid but was able to respond in the affirmative. I bellowed out with such eager intention: “ONE…TWO…THREE…” then both of us in unison, with all our might: “WAKE UP!”

    My eyes shot open and I saw the white ceiling above my bed. My heart was pounding. Yes, the big snake was scary, but what did I just experience? I knew I was dreaming? And I could control it?

    I was fascinated, excited, and slightly regretful that I took such a quick exit. It being one of my first lucid dreams, I can’t blame myself for jumping the gun like that, but I did wonder what else I could’ve explored in there had I let the fear subside. Actually, it wasn’t until I typed this that I made the connection between that fearful reaction and the one from inside the pool, when I was so sure being bitten by the dream-snakes would be “stupid.” Fear had stopped me from experiencing–both in the beginning, and in the end, of that dream. 

    There was no plan for my first post in my revived blog. I just felt a need to write something down. My dreams lately have been so energetically charged that writing about them, and starting from the beginning of my lore, was the obvious choice. Now, after getting that out, I see an eerie tie to my present state of mind and how I have a lesson to learn. Fear is nothing but the uncomfortable ropes holding me back from the essence of life. 

    I had nothing to fear in the pool before the snake bit me. I was even told as much, but I resisted it. I had nothing to fear when the giant cobra was hunting us. And I have nothing to fear now, whether I’m asleep or awake. “Life has a way of working out” is a common quote, one that I’ve more or less dismissed because of such commonality; its being popular has no bearing on its truth, though, and I feel like I’m just now waking up to that fact.