The Word

Tag: writing

  • Word of the Day

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

    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.

    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.

    Not only that, but what’s Me is You. I’ve heard it described as “we’re all made of stardust.” I think that we’re essentially all One. We all come from the same Source. Call it God(s), Universe, Love & Light, whatever name we want to use, but we come from Source and go back to Source when we “die.” (Fun fact: Energy never dies, and we are all made of energy. Therefore we never really die. It’s not woo-woo. It’s physics!) How lucky we are that our souls 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 energy and consciousness is all there is; our frequencies that we emit are the most important thing we have.

    I feel my heart bursting with love and gratitude for my life every day. I did have to quit my job that was literally sucking the energy out of me in order to get there, and that was/is scary; but, “life has a way of working out.” I needed to make that decision for a long time, but what made it so hard was that I had it really good there: Great boss, coworkers who became friends, and a lucrative salary. Somehow, though, I was progressively more unhappy no matter how many perks I had there.

    I was convinced that I couldn’t leave because it would be stupid to let all of that go. Then I had a baby, and I’d semi-joked that she was going to save my life. After a difficult six-week NICU stay and then loving my transition to new-motherhood, the decision was made for me. Deep within my gut, my intuition said I absolutely needed to be with her and cross the line from “I need my job” to “I’ll do whatever it takes to be home with my baby.” To that end, while being home with her, I’d found my inner peace again. I started a gratitude journal and wrote down anywhere from five to twenty things I was grateful for every day.

    Finding gratitude is the first step to raising your frequency. High vibrations lead you to the meaning of life. 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 know I’m fortunate to be able to stay home after maternity leave. None of my luck is lost on me. It’s added to my gratitude journal every single time I write in it. I do 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 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
    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

    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.

  • What’s the Deal (with my dreams?) Part 2

    Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

    In the last two days, I’ve dreamt about:

    • A buffet of cakes and chocolate “samples,” seemingly awaiting consumption; my present-day friend Becca, a girl named Taylor who I haven’t thought about in decades, and a current neighbor/former coworker Kat and I walked into the place expecting to buy a chocolate cake and peanut butter pie for an office of about 78 people. The dream tasted delectable, with strawberries and cream flavored chocolate bites and thin custard-filled yellow vanilla cake slices up for grabs. We all binged on what we assumed were free samples in this abandoned high-class bakery we were sent to. The chocolate cake we were commissioned to purchase for the office party was the same cake I’d missed out on eating at a real-life Indians game back when I was a preteen. I had another chance at this cake in dreamland. Sparing a lot of the sweets-feast details, since they’re repetitive, I’ll jump ahead with this: I never got my redemption cake. I also knew that one cake and one pie wouldn’t be enough for the office party, but my pleas to up the ante were ignored. I wound up with a sweet donut and a sour attitude.
    • This one I remember less about, but apparently it’s very similar to a Dr. Who episode. I have never seen Dr. Who. In this dream, I was again with a small group. I did not know these people this time, which was for the best since we were being hunted. Eventually the hunt ended when I saw a wet-cement looking live statue of an archangel sneak up on my group mate, place its hands on their shoulders, and turn them to stone when they didn’t react fast enough. I woke up shortly after that, but I also remember there being a speedboat and a long dock and the weather was a cool, misty gray.
    • I think I was at a convention in this one. It wasn’t in a convention center, though; it was in someone’s house. My trusty crew this time consisted of Stacey, a former friend/coworker; Scott, a repeat contender in my recent dreams who went to elementary school with me and hasn’t been in my waking consciousness for eons; and two others that I can’t pull details from right now. This house had a windy staircase that was lined with old, dusty, leather-bound books that should’ve instead been compassionately released to a library. The bottom of the stairs led to an eclectic room where all the important convention discussions took place. One such discussion was Stacey and I talking to Scott about why he was so bummed out and trying to give him life advice. The rest of the dream was our group walking merrily (except for Scott) around this convention house, which resembled a combination of CoSi science center and Big Fun toy store with its endless knickknacks and rooms to explore. We eventually ended up in a parking lot. Just like in present reality, the parking lot is where we all parted ways, but not without giving Scott more earnest life advice. I hope he’s doing well these days.

  • 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.