Okay, I suspect the answer is thanks but no thanks, I already have enough struggles in my life. Well, if that’s the case, fine. Thank you for your politeness but I’m gonna give you a few more anyway. They might make you scream and pull even more precious hairs out of your head. If you have any hair that is of course. And heck, some of you might even thank me for them later on.
Change happens when the pain of holding on becomes greater than the fear of letting go.
Spencer Johnson, author of Who Moved My Cheese?
For some years now, that quote has been a favourite of mine. Though I have read Who Moved My Cheese?, I actually first heard it when I was in a treatment centre for drug & alcohol abuse. I can still feel the jaggedness of the lump in my throat, the barrenness of the pit in my stomach, and the sting of the tears in my eyes as those words penetrated my entire being. But that’s how life goes sometimes, doesn’t it? It hits you like a ton of bricks.
At first, that ton of bricks knocked me down. And I fell hard. But that’s the thing about hitting a bottom isn’t it? Once you realize where you are, there’s only one place to go from there. Up. And one of the best ways I’ve learned how to move upwards and onwards is to embrace the lessons that are in the very same bricks that knock me down. And so I did with those words. And I changed. And for that, I hope to remain eternally grateful. Continue reading
I’m a numbers gal. Math was my favourite subject all through school. I have a honours Business degree and a good chunk of the courses for that degree were in accounting. I have been a treasurer for non-profit organizations. I have done bookkeeping here and there and I, get this, LOVE to do my taxes. I have taught many people how to start and grow a business and have managed restaurants. And I am passionate about spreadsheets, can build one for anything.
So you would think I know a thing or two about basic accounting stuff right? Yeah, I do. When it comes to financial matters. But not so much when it comes to life. Not so much when it comes to me. Not so much when it comes to the net worth I assign to myself and my life. Continue reading
Writing a novel is like driving a car at night.
You can see only as far as your headlights,
but you can make the whole trip that way.
E. L. Doctorow, author
Sometimes I need this reminder. Especially when my mind is in a dense fog.
Image source: Bryan Alexander user on flickr.com, CC2.0 Generic
In response to today’s Daily Prompt: Fog
Listen to music. It could save your soul. Be kind. It could save someone’s world. Wear a hat. It could save your life.
Strike three, you’re out. End of the inning. End of the game. End of the series. End of the tournament. It’s over. The season that is, but not the lesson; the learning has only just begun.
Today’s Daily Prompt suggests writing about this:
In your own life, what would be the equivalent of a walk-off home run? (For the baseball-averse, that’s a last-minute, back-against-the-wall play that guarantees a dramatic victory.)
I know very little about sports. Never participated much in them and rarely watch them. Don’t know much about guarantees either, other than the printed kind that come with electronic gadgets I buy to make coffee, or the ones I hear others giving away for free on commercials. I do however know about these kinds of things:
Last-minute: changing my mind suddenly to follow my gut and avoiding catastrophe
Back-against-the-wall: quitting a job, with no other job in hand, to stay true to my values
Dramatic victory: giving birth to three children