After Twenty Minutes of Worry, Think About  Something Else

Feels better thinking about something else

This morning I realized that I am wasting energy AND distracting myself by mulling an issue over and over and going nowhere. This has been going round and round for twenty minutes, and I am feeling worse and worse without any result.

At issue is the thought “too much of my time is absorbed by another’s perceived need.” In short, I have a beef Genny’s demands on my time. This feels lousy, and I want to feel better. One thing I feel sure: broaching the subject to Genny, and “laying down the law” about the amount of my time she can have in a day will not produce an outcome that I want.

What do I want? I want to dedicate more time to my income generating projects while at the same time, I want Genny to continue visiting her “ladies” in safety and comfort. I want what I want, and I want Genny to have what she wants. Experience tells me that both of us can have what we want, if I don’t get my knickers in a twist.

I believe (and I experience has provided validation) there is a solution in the vortex. My poor brain is not capable on its own, so I am dumping this issue in the  “the manager’s lap” lock, stock and barrel.

Today, I am not allowing one more thought about this to last as much as 17 seconds. Today, I make the best of whatever comes along: furthermore, I am going to milk as much fun as possible out of this day.


Kicking the Tires of Tuesday, December 18

Focus the Day

I have been so busy setting up the Christmas village and wiring the yard decorations, that writing my daily story was kicked to the wayside. This was a very bad idea indeed because setting up my day with an addition to “my story” set a daily focus. It is like setting the seed around which the daily pearl is formed. It is like establishing the shape of a crystal.

Instead of crying over spilt milk, I will spin a learning experience. Since I am living the third stage of my life, it is wasting precious time when I don’t deliberately flow my energies into pleasurable efforts. The good news, is that the Christmas village is a creation that not only provides me with a great deal of pleasure, it is providing a great deal of pleasure for others as well.

Christmas Village Photos

A few nutcrackers
Christmas Village


Music is the best assist for boasting the morning. Plug in the headphones with the right music and the day brightens. My taste tends towards the bombastic. The minor key is a turn-on. Soundtracks work the best for me when it comes to sustained writing. Murray Gold did some brilliant stuff for Doctor Who; I listen to that a lot.


Horses of Possibility

Bad Mood at Black Rock

Out of the blue, my neighbor’s potential relocation to a new unit across the street ignited a bonfire of anger. The neighbor is very pleasant but not of long acquaintance, and only ranks a four out of ten in terms of my attachment.

Really, I shouldn’t give a damn, but vengeful thoughts were flickering through my head most of yesterday. Of course, the neighbor has nothing to do with it. The situation simply triggered my anger with myself. An awareness of making some really poor choices in my life. In short, I hit a hot spot and it didn’t feel good.

Quite simply; I want to do what my neighbor is doing, and today I can’t do it. I can’t do it next week. In fact, chances are that I can’t do it this month. What I can do right now is start the ball rolling with thoughts about doing it early next year.

There’s a useful option: make lemonade from my sour feelings by thinking that I am glad to have that trigger exposed because it’s now very clear what I want for myself in the upcoming year. I am still feeling a bit vengeful, and I can use that by finishing my novel three days before the November 30 deadline. That would really be satisfying.  I REALLY DESIRE FINISHING THAT NOVEL because it is the first thing I finished as the result of some sustained work over time since I churned out literary papers in college. I would enjoy feeling smug for a few minutes. Besides I am dying to know Mary Maud and Marie are going to get written out of Hartford into Belgium.