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Personal Forgiveness

There are times in life I am left bewildered. This past year those moments have been often. In examining the events I have looked at my life and have seen where my behavior played a part, but playing the “what if” game did nothing but amass great guilt. Guilt I pointed directly to myself, allowing the blame to land at my feet. Well in good in taking a personal responsibility, it still did not change what happened. With not being able to change the past nor the events which transpired I had to come to a solution. Personal forgiveness. I was not brought up to side step my responsibility or to evade the consequences of my actions. I was suppose to remind myself daily all my wrongs and make sure I held myself accordingly. Unfortunately there is a fine line in knowing, admitting, and learning to let it go, something at the age of 51 I have not mastered. I want to be a good person. I want everyone to see a person of charm and goodness, but as long as I see myself as a monster a
Recent posts

Journey of Shyness and Social Phobia

I suffer from shyness to the point it has left me isolated. According to a variety of information I have read my shyness is borderline social phobia. I have always been shy; however, it has escalated over the years. Earlier on in my life I was able to “functional” in social situations. I did this by simply “acting” a part, the person I thought I should be in any given situation. Sadly, it came a time when this no longer served me and I simply withdrew. My shyness, as I have discovered, has lead to a multiple problems. I am unable to correctly read body language or respond with correct body language myself. It has been pointed out to me the non-verbal clues I give out is one of being unapproachable. Though in reality, I am just scared hoping no one will see it. As for small talk, I find myself unable to think of anything semi-intelligent to say after the basic “hello”. Of course, again, the clue is given I am not interested in conversing. Far from the truth for my thoughts keep me from

My Return

It has been a long time since I have posted due to my return to college has kept me busy. Stay tuned for my musings on my life since I left, things from the distant past, the future, and current.

No Child Left Behind

There is much to be thankful for, living in rural Alabama. The trespassers upon my property are deer, possums, raccoons, and turtles. Occasionally, I can hear the cry of a bobcat. While I should be more cautious trekking in the woods behind my house, I can't help but feel a sense that I no longer have to fear gang members but the animals of the wild. Blessed with the opportunity to rear my children in this idealistic setting, I have found that for my daughter the biggest obstacle has been the education system. I am the first to acknowledge she is not a strong academic student and still has a long way to mature in her general attitude. Yet, it is in the nature of youth to be raw, needing to learn to adopt the gentle responses in which the "adults" in her world are supposed to have mastered. My daughter has always had a good idea of herself. There was a time when she became withdrawn and tremendously shy. With intervention from a wonderful program at the elementary school s

Solitary

Writing for the most part is said to be a solitary occupation. In my case and many others I have found this to be true. I find i am not one to surround myself with people, and crave the seclusion. Infact, most of my occupations I have worked by myself with little or no interaction with others. When I do mingle with friends and family I find often I feel drained, left with no energy. Being human, I have cycles where I crave to be around others. Unfortunately, being shy I do not have a circle of friends at my ready. The friendships I have been able to gather are long term relationships but sadly they live in other states or countries. It's these times I find that I spiral into a depression. The longing for kinship is overwhelming. The simple pleasure of meeting with my peers to simply enjoy a cup of coffee and exchange banter is often taken for granted by most, but for me it is an impossiblity. During these times I have to force myself to stay focused. I do have ha

Finding My Heart

The years that I did not write were painful. For as a writer I found my desire not to be of my choosing but something I has been born to do. Just like air I needed to fill my lungs, stories clamored to be told. When I decided to finally give in to my torments and dabble once again at writing I had hoped to return to writing on two novels that I had begun in my youth. Each Time I tried to write on either novel, clumsily trying to define my plots, my subplots, and breath live into the characters I continually failed. Between these failures I wrote brief scenes for my on line writing classes, some decent while others should have been trashed before I even let my fellow writers read them. Of all the writings that were deemed decent by my "critters" they all said something appeared missing from writing. My heart. Purposely in those first few months I intentionally left out the "heart" and "soul" of my writing abilities. I left it out for many reasons. One

Beginnings

I have started this to record my journey of returning to writing. I started to write as most children do with poetry. I remember well in first grade when most children were writing poems for there mom's on mothers day, they always started out with "Roses are Red..." I did not do this. I can't quite recall exactly what words I used on that first mother days card, I just remember my refusal to start a card that way, instead using a different format that impressed my teacher. I remember that year and consecutive years until I reached junior high my parents always received a letter from the instructor and principal of my school outlining my writing talent and encouraging my parents to encourage my talent. As time continued on I wrote my poems.. The first poem I remember writing had been during the winter of my fourth grade year. Winter is ugly and mean It locks children in their grave And they cry very long For a beautiful song That's why we