The Word

Tag: writing

  • Word of the Day

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    If aliens arrived tomorrow, what’s the first thing you’d ask them?

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    I am so excited to finally write about aliens.

    I spent hundreds of hours in the library all throughout my childhood. The library was, and still is, my safe space. When I was in sixth grade, I found the back corner that held all the “weird” stuff–parapsychology, metaphysics, and my favorite topic at the time: Aliens. I read all the alien books right there in the corner, my back against the bookshelf, like it was my own secret, exclusive club. It really was my personal paranormal reading nook. Despite my fascination with them, I’ve never thought about what question I’d ask them given the chance.

    Truthfully, I’d probably ask something dumb, like “How are you?” out of nervousness and being starstruck. One common question I think many would ask is, “What is the meaning of life?” 

    There’s a woman in her 30s, named Elizabeth April, who I would consider to be popular among the parapsychology community. She practices remote viewing, has extrasensory abilities, and claims to have spoken with aliens and other high-vibrational beings. She also said on a podcast episode of Acid for Squares that when she was in her astral body and communicating with Source (i.e., Higher Self, God, Christ Consciousness, whatever you want to call it) she asked that question: What is the meaning of life? My heart rate picked up and my breathing rate quickened when the answer she got was very similar to what I’d written for the daily prompt of the same question back in May: The meaning of life is to experience. In this life, on this planet, we have so much beauty, love, pain, sadness, joy, ecstasy, and anguish to drink in, to endure, and to appreciate. The “good,” the “bad,” all of it is a lesson of experiencing through the limitations this world provides.

    All that to say, I wouldn’t ask that question. 

    I might ask, “Why has it taken so long to show yourself to me?” or “Why haven’t I been abducted yet?!” But I already know those answers too: Everything happens in divine timing. I’m not sure I really want to be abducted by aliens, but when life, or society, gets tough, my like-minded friends and I joke about it. Like, “please take me with you!”, for example. 

    Here’s some of what I’ve learned about aliens and high-vibrational beings so far:

    • They’ll reveal themselves soon, like in the next year or so
    • They’ve been here forever
    • There are several different kinds of aliens, some of which are purely energy forms (without physical form)
    • There are beings already here on Earth that are more malicious than the ones coming from elsewhere
    • They’re here to help, not hurt
    • They’ve already protected us and our planet from annihilation and will continue to do so

    Loving and learning about aliens has been a part of my personality for my entire life. To be alive at the same time as Disclosure (the official revelation of extraterrestrials and more of the great secrets being kept from the majority of humanity) is happening is an unbelievable privilege. I’m actually sitting here in awe just thinking about it. Combine the lore of extraterrestrial visitation with learning about energy, frequencies, manifestation, astral projection, remote viewing, Psychokinesis, ESP–the fact that humans have been proven to have these extrasensory abilities, that it’s documented in declassified CIA and other government reports, and that now the veil is lifting on these formerly niche subjects–for me, it’s a buffet of delicious mind-matter, consciousness-expanding brain teasers.

    I am definitely one of those weirdos who eats up all the content they can about the paranormal. I always have been; none of these topics are new to me. It’s just now becoming less taboo to spout off about them. And the more I learn, the more I’m aware of how much I don’t know. I get so excited about the unknown that I almost find it difficult to write about, succinctly at least. My mind gets overwhelmed with how many directions my thoughts go. How do I pick and choose what to put down on this post?!

    Anyway, I still don’t have a question prepared for when I meet an alien. 

    We’re already in the midst of my stream of consciousness, so why not continue down that path–as I wrote that last sentence about not having a question prepared, one came to mind. I thought about the interaction: First I would be in disbelief, then scared, then in awe, and then grateful. Then, if they stuck around past the fear stage, I would ask, “What can you teach me?” 

    I imagine the lesson would be limited, since we have to learn so much on our own. I would be satisfied with that. Just seeing and communicating with them would be enough for me. Unfortunately for me, I think I have more work to do with raising my vibrational frequency before they’ll give me the visit I deserve. 

    I have one single UFO story, and it’s a pretty lame one: It was 2010, and I was sitting in my friend’s car late at night when I looked up through her windshield and saw a small red orb in the sky. It was abnormal enough that I turned to her and asked if she was seeing it too. When she looked up, the red orb jumped to another spot among the stars. It leaped around a few more times before disappearing completely. 

    I’ve had UFO dreams that felt more real than my lukewarm orb sighting, but it’s all I have in my catalog, and therefore I’m grateful for it. It’s been said that aliens are making visits in the dream realm, so I might as well add those to my repertoire. Next time I see one in my dreams, I’ll ask them if that’s okay.

  • Word of the Day

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    The genie grants you a wish. What is it?

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    My initial thought was, “I wish I’d win the lottery.” Then, thinking more about that, I wondered how that choice would impact me in other ways than the obvious freedom coming from unlimited cash. Seems like a dream come true, but there’s a whole TV show about how the lottery has ruined people’s lives. I don’t think I’d mismanage the bag, so the opportunities for ruin get very creative in my anxious mind.

    There’s also the fact that wishing for money speaks to a scarcity mindset that I evidently still have, which I’ve been working hard to shed. Just in the last week, I’ve gotten extra groceries and a massive package of paper towels for free due to errors of sorts. If I’m able to summon abundance, why can’t it be a truckload of hundred dollar bills? I suspect it’s that question alone that keeps me from winning big on my numbers–there’s more Higher Self work to be done, and winning the lottery won’t do it for me. Bummer.

    Beyond the lottery, I’d be tempted to wish for a steady writing career. Just a quick wish and then, poof! Instant success. When I overthink that possibility, I get the feeling that I wouldn’t be happy with that one, either. Being plummeted into a lucrative writing career without having earned it would be cheating. It wouldn’t feel fulfilling. I also doubt I’d enjoy it at all. I would be like SpongeBob with those inflatable, fake muscly arms. A true poser.

    So, my first two immediate options are out. I could wish for all of the landscaping in my yard to be perpetually pristine, but maybe wishing for my house to be constantly clean (without me having to do it) is the better bet. But then I wouldn’t get that pride from making my house clean, and my kid wouldn’t grow up with those values instilled, so the cleaning one is out. And there’s some true happiness to be harvested in a flower bed, so landscaping is also off the wish list. 

    It’s starting to look like hard work and experiencing authentic achievement is worth at least a lottery’s worth of money. 

    Maybe we scale it down a bit. A lifetime supply of free Dairy Queen? No, I don’t need that temptation in my face all the time. I have no self control over ice cream. What about having my pre-baby body back? If you’ve been paying attention, you already know that’s a trick question. I need my hard work and authentic achievement! Call me a glutton for punishment, but I love a hard workout, and no genie will take that grueling journey away from me. I could get really specific with it and wish that I could eat all the DQ, brownies, frosting, cinnamon rolls, and donuts I want without ever having a physical consequence…but that seems like a really dumb wish when I sit with that choice.

    So far I’ve ruled out having endless desserts, money, attractiveness, and success as my wishes. Oh, and a forever-clean house and nice landscaping without the back pain. At this point you may be asking yourself if I’m crazy, and my response would be “define crazy.” If having defense mechanisms so high it wards off White Walkers is crazy, then perhaps that’s me–but I also think I’m making a smart choice.

    Being granted a wish is having true power. What kind of person would I be if I had absolute control for a moment and I spent it on myself? A big part of me still wants to keep it about me by wishing for perfect health and happiness for my family, specifically my daughter. As a mom, I naturally never want her to experience any kind of pain or illness. Speaking of natural, though, that’s life–she and I will have to endure those difficult moments when they cross our paths. That’s part of the cruel beauty of this human experience. The pain and pressure turn us into the rare diamonds we are, and my family can’t be exempt from that.

    Finally, I think I’ve arrived at my wish. It boils down to something we’ve all heard before, so much so that it was written as a joke in Miss Congeniality: I want world peace. 

    This is unattainable in our current timeline, so wishing for “world peace” without being hyper-specific would be a mistake. My version of it would be: I wish for the ungodly billionaires and trillionaires in our world to have their Christmas Carol moment and change their greed into generosity by donating just 40 percent of their collective estates to eradicating world hunger, disease, for-profit healthcare, and protecting not only the populace but the Earth herself by ending wars, capping or redirecting investment into technology so that Earth’s resources are not only preserved but replenished, and apply that funding towards elevating our society into a higher frequency where we will all feel safe, secure, and loved, where competition amongst ourselves is non-existent, and where we all rediscover the sanctity of community because of the realization during this transition that We Are All One. 

    That genie probably wishes I’d gone with winning the lottery.

     

  • Word of the Day

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    • What is taking up too much space in your head today, and what is one small thing you can drop or delegate?

    This question seems like it’s asking about a to-do list, but I’m choosing to interpret it in more ethereal terms. Like the spider I saw descending from my ceiling this morning, for example, got me so deep in an existential thought pool that I figured I might drown if I didn’t get it out on the page today.

    I have a couple of angles that I see the spider from. The first one is quicker to navigate, so I’ll start there: When I saw the spider drop down in front of my eyes, I was reminded of my favorite poem, called Allowables, by Nikki Giovanni:

    This poem has made me cry. It’s so touching to me, it’s really a remarkable piece of writing. I’ve always taken it literally; I know some readers will read that and think it’s about war or something, but I felt deeply for the delicate spiders in the world after reading that poem. I did keep killing them, though.

    It was like after a dentist’s visit, when they scared you into flossing for the first few days afterwards and then you fell back into old habits. I was welcoming to small, waify spiders at first; then I fell back into fear-based habits. Whenever I’d see a spider, I’d think of that poem, though. And I’d feel guilty.

    This morning, the little wispy gymnast of an arachnid floated from high above, straight down onto the rug in my daughter’s room, a perfect ten landing. At least it had an audience to witness such an act. Much like the judges in a high-stakes gymnastics meet, I swiftly crushed the delicate beauty’s hopes, dreams, and, well, its life. I did say sorry right beforehand, and I explained my motive, as if that would absolve me of the guilt I tend towards. (Looking back on it, I do feel absolved–unfortunately for It, this is my house, and I cannot let even the smallest threat cohabitate with my baby.) After the murder, Allowables took second chair in my mind. My first thought was about witches.

    We turn the corner now into my second angle: It is incredible how easily and effectively we can be influenced.

    Today’s killing aside, my feelings about spiders have changed significantly recently. For the most part, I don’t look at them behind a fearful filter anymore–I see them as lucky, blessings, protectors, and a reminder that “life is built thread by thread through conscious intention.” And this is only because my algorithm brought me to Witches of Threads, on Threads.

    I had only read a couple sentences in one day that mentioned spiders. Supposed witches, who could be bots, said spiders were good and I now therefore believe spiders to be good.

    There’s a spider web on the hinge of my front door that I dare not get rid of because it supposedly acts as a filter and sifts out the bad juju before it gets into my home. There are two more intricate webs outside our house: One on the back of my husband’s car and one in our flower bed right where my head was just bobbing and weaving around last weekend when I was mulching. I look at these webs with awe and notice their beauty instead of wanting to destroy them. I try not to disturb the other webs in our landscaping when pulling weeds. I don’t bother the spider in our basement who has taken residency in our window nook. My husband and I even refer to him as “little buddy” and “cool guy.” All this because I was influenced online.

    I’m happy about this change in me, so it’s not this specific instance that gives me pause. It’s all the other times I find myself scrolling on Instagram or Threads (never TikTok) and coming out the other side with a new opinion, a new concern, a new product I want, or a new “hack”. Most of the “information” I absorb is likely not good for me. It sometimes causes arguments between my husband and I–the fact that I’d get riled up over a fake headline or take sides on an issue when my algorithm is purposely hiding an entire hemisphere of facts. It’s not just my algorithm seeping into my daily thought patterns, but his, too. He notices when I’ve been online too long, and the noticing is mutual.

    While I’m thankful for some of the tidbits I’ve gathered from doomscrolling, it’s overwhelmingly apparent to me that there’s an issue at hand: There are real-world, loving, strong, thoughtful relationships being affected by fake, online, polarizing, fear-mongering bullshit. None of this is news; we all know that doomscrolling is bad for us–just like we know alcohol, drugs, junk food, and unprotected sex are bad for us. At least there are meetings people can go to, with a real-world community, to heal that addicted part of themselves if those indulgences get out of control. Where are the “Social Mediaddiction” Anonymous groups? Where is there an opportunity for our community to seek support for this very real and harmful addiction?

    Nobody is influence-proof anymore. If you have social media, you’re primed for jumping off the bridge if your favorite influencer told you to. I find this to be dangerous, an unnecessary evil. This is the nature of our society because it’s been engineered that way–we choose browsing social media day after day, but only because it’s designed to be addictive. Billions of dollars are spent to make sure our attention stays captured. It would seem like we don’t have any recourse now that society is so smart-phone dependent, but I want to fight that narrative.

    The first step to breaking free from the chokehold is awareness. Notice when your thoughts start sounding foreign to you and actively change them to something else, preferably something positive and uplifting, like finding something to be grateful for.

    The next step is harder, and that is to take action. This is where the addiction will overtake your resistance. My advice, which I need to take myself, would be to make a list of things to do when the desire to doomscroll pops up. I already have a time limit on my apps, and that doesn’t really do anything to stop my urges. A to-do list and a goal for the day, with deadlines, helps keep my phone out of my hands. When I’m taking a break, having things nearby that bring me real joy (a book, sketch pad, my laptop, etc.) help with keeping my attention elsewhere. But the last time I checked, I was logging 14 hours a week on IG and Threads. That’s a gut punch–to admit that “I don’t have time” really means “I’m wasting it on bingeing mental junk food.”

    I get that sometimes we need a mental break to laugh at memes or watch some videos online. Like having too much junk food, though, I notice that I don’t feel any better after a scrolling session. I usually feel worse. Time passes at an unruly rate while my mind races about things I never wanted polluting my wavelength to begin with. What makes it so tough to quit is that there’s some content I really enjoy because it’s enlightening, uplifting, and encouraging. Like it’s Groundhog Day, I keep asking myself: Do I make that sacrifice?

    The question really is, “When?” Intuitively I know I need a detox from the apps. We all do. When scrolling on DoorDash becomes a form of entertainment, that’s a sign to take some distance from the billion-dollar addiction machine. While I no longer do that (praise be), I still need to be checked into scrolling rehab someday. I just need someone to help me build it–preferably deep in the woods somewhere, with nothing but fresh air and Mother Earth to ground us.

    In the meantime, I’ll do some research with the Witches of Threads. I have a bay leaf in my pantry that’s calling my name. Maybe that’ll bring my earthy, woodsy, campy detox facility to fruition. At this point, I wouldn’t mind living among the spiders.

  • Word of the Day

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    What’s one thing you wish you had started doing earlier in life?

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    This question feels like What’s Your Biggest Regret’s nosy neighbor, and that’s too close for comfort for me. Regret is weird, right? If I went back and changed a bunch of things, I wouldn’t be living this life that I love. 

    That’s not to say it would be a worse life, or even a better one. I think there’s some version of me in the multiverse that stuck to writing earlier on in life and made it big. One of many reasons I didn’t do that is because I was afraid my passion would turn into something I’d hate when it became a job. Was the cure for that completely hanging it up for the better part of 2 decades to go work as a cog in the corporate machine? No, probably not. But, I’m here now, writing what I want; I’m working that muscle out again on my own terms. And for that reason, I’m thankful. (Insert Shark Tank meme.)

    I did have a goal when I was in my very early 20’s to have my first book published by the time I turned 23. That turned into 28, which turned into “30’s,” and eventually it fell off my radar. The feeling of guilt I have for not honoring my goal is something that has stuck with me. However, on my healing journey, I can recognize that each moment propagates a new me. The Me back then didn’t know any better, and I can be proud of where Now Me is at. I can give myself room to understand that I was only working with the tools I had available to me back then, and I work to forgive the version of myself who’s judging her from afar. 

    At 35, I’ve learned so much about myself that it’s completely understandable why I didn’t start writing consistently and in a disciplined manner when I was 20. I could spend all day glamorizing that path, but ultimately it doesn’t feel right anymore. It’s not what happened for me, and I’m at peace with that. I could say the same thing for other habits that I’ve started fine-tuning just recently–I wish I started eating better sooner, working out consistently earlier in life, learned to go easier on myself when I was younger. But how could I have done any of those things, when I didn’t have that knowledge any earlier than I did? 

    What I’ve gathered at this point is that life is a classroom. There are lessons handed to us every day. We’re in the clinical trials as we’re learning. We’re bound to stumble and get the answers wrong sometimes when we’re learning as we go. There’s no sense in looking back on Day 1, Lesson 1 and being mad at ourselves for not passing Day 30, Lesson 30’s test. I appreciate my learning process more each day, and it’s part of what makes life beautiful; it’s never too early to see how lovely life really is.

  • Word of the Day

    Even the smallest things generate a ripple effect.
    A fallen leaf floats at the center of rippling water as the forest reflects the evening sky.

    Do you believe in karma?

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    I do believe in karma, in the way that I believe in energy. I think that what’s projected outward will in turn be attracted back inward. Is it a tit-for-tat type of deal? I don’t know. Probably not in the way most people think of karma. 

    I think if someone has negative intentions in their heart and then acts on them, they will eventually receive negativity in return. That being said, my high school bully ended up winning a whole house in a local YMCA fundraiser held in my hometown, so there’s that. For the sake of my own karma, I wish her nothing but the best lessons in life. 🙂

    Anyway, it’s my belief that the concept of karma is many things thanks to the blending of meaning and language. By definition, it’s “an impersonal law of cause and effect, not a system of divine reward and punishment.” Going by that definition, my own interpretation of karma bleeds out of the lines a bit. I maintain my belief, though, that an act of positivity leads to positivity in return. Engaging in positive thoughts, gratitude, acts of selflessness, etc., emits a frequency that has you radiating on a level that can only attract like frequencies back to you. That, to me, is physics; that’s cause and effect. 

    I write in these blog posts as if I’ve got it all figured out. I assure you, I don’t. I get sucked into bad moods and shit-talking like the best Negative Nancy in the pageant. However, what I can say is that I’ve absolutely become more aware of my thoughts. I do catch myself in one of these moods or thought cycles and at least try to break it. I actively notice things that I’m grateful for, and I do that on a regular basis. And, as of super recently, I’ve gotten back into an exercise routine. This alone helps regulate the energy within me that otherwise would get charged up throughout the day and have nowhere to go, except to my head, which is where overthinking and negativity breed. 

    So, do I believe in karma? Yes. Do I think it all comes back to energy and frequencies? Of course. I’m seeing now that most of what I have to say also boils down to those topics. Let’s see where that cause and effect takes us. 🙂

  • Word of the Day

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    Daily writing prompt
    What’s the best advice you’d give to someone younger than you?
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    Man, I wish this prompt was more specific. I was just thinking earlier today, “I would do well (and have fun) writing an advice column!”

    (Does anyone need advice on an oddly specific circumstance? Send me a message!)

    In the meantime, let’s see what advice I can cook up for this vast population landscape…

    My Advice for Someone Younger than Me: It’s pretty cliche, but it boils down to “don’t take yourself too seriously.”

    While I stand by that, part of me wants to point out that I’m very excited by where I am currently in my life, and I wouldn’t be here now if I didn’t take myself entirely too seriously in my younger years. I’m just now learning, at 35, how to be more fluidly goofy. I hope that by the time my daughter turns 2, I know how to be a silly goose–but I’ve always been old for my age, and it’s hard for me to comprehend not being serious.

    There’s a lot to unpack for someone who takes life too seriously. It’s not like it’s wrong, or bad, or you’re off to a bad start if you’re intense, focused, results-driven, or–dare I say–deeply anxious. For me, it was (and is) a fear-driven response to me needing control, mainly over my future. If I got good grades, pitched perfect innings, nailed my job interviews, got timely promotions, and was liked well enough through all those stages, I would have checked off all the boxes to achieve The Happy Life that I Should Have By Now, right?

    Wrong! Now, I wasn’t living a bad life, but I was wedged so far under my own thumb that I couldn’t breathe. If I made one mistake, I would have a meltdown (of which there were many!). Over time, I had somehow created this sense of self-worth that only maintained my own uncompromising standards as long as I never screwed anything up. Which, spoiler alert, is impossible to do! Imagine being in your 20s–no, any age!–and not screwing anything up. It’s literally laughable now that I’m so far removed from that era of my life–which makes it a pretty sad reality for me when I look back. I did not have to be so hard on myself, and I’m actively working on healing that part of me to this day.

    If you’re someone younger than me who is taking life seriously, I salute you for your grit and determination. There is nothing wrong with you. You’re doing what makes you feel safe. Might I suggest that you take some dedicated time to dance, alone in your garage, where nobody can see how silly you might look? Or go to an open mic night at a comedy club and tell a story? Maybe instead you’d enjoy parking your car and walking, with too-heavy comforters and a backpack full of snacks, down to a secluded beach with your friend for a sandy outdoor sleepover? (That may have only worked because it was in 2009 and before the Age of Surveillance…).

    All this to say, my advice is to keep up with your responsibilities, but add this to your list: “Do something silly, and love myself through it.” If you must work, work on feeling whole, even when you are perceived to come up short. If you must achieve, be the best at forgiving yourself for your missteps. If you must focus, zero in on how great you’re doing at any given point. And if you must be perfect, know with 100% certainty that you already are–not despite, but because of your imperfections.

  • Word of the Day

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    Daily writing prompt
    If you could have dinner with any philosopher, who would it be?
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    I took a lengthy philosophy class in college, and one takeaway from it was that I would never want to have dinner with Plato or Socrates.

    Dictionary.com’s first definition of philosopher is “a person who offers views or theories on profound questions in ethics, metaphysics, logic, and other related fields.” Based on that, I’d say Hell Yeah to a dinner with Pete Holmes. For those who are unfamiliar, he’s a comedian; he’s also a very deep thinker and has profound views on spirituality. He’s kind of my hero.

    Some quotes of his that I like:

    • “We’d all like to increase pleasure and minimize pain, but the truth is, suffering, even collective suffering that we’re going through, is often the earmark that some real change is happening.”
    • “There’s nothing you can do to increase or decrease the love that God has for you, but there are things you can do that increase or decrease your awareness of that love. That’s certainly been my experience.”
    • “I am a comedian. My brain is critical – it’s overthinking – but you can find ways to turn it down and realize that’s not who you really are.”
    • “I needed to let go of the idea of a God who was mad at me for feeling how I was feeling. Now, I bask in an understanding of the divine that delights in truth and the complexities of the human experience – even when it’s not very ‘clean.’”

    I’ll also leave this here. I mean, just imagine a conversation like this over some chips & guac!

  • Word of the Day

    Daily writing prompt
    What is the meaning of life?
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    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

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    Daily writing prompt
    What’s a word or phrase that annoys you?
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    “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results,” or whatever the stupid phrase is. There’s so much more to being insane than just doing repetitive things. Besides, don’t scientists do exactly that when running experiments? I wish I could crumple this phrase up and put it in a paper bag with a load of dog shit before lighting it on fire on someone’s porch. Get outta here with that lame ass “definition,” I CANNOT. Ugh.

  • 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

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    “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.