Thinking Aloud

Be Grateful

Posted by Raivenne on March 23, 2018
Posted in: Just Me, Being Me, March 2018, Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers, Soul, The Present, Thinking Aloud. Tagged: , , , . 4 Comments

The path on the bus from my home to the train station leads past several tenement buildings and projects.  A part of City life is the occasional appearance of memorials for the recently departed. I’m ashamed to say, they are so much so a part of the scenery that while I look at them, I really don’t see them anymore.  At least, until this morning.

This morning as I pass, I actually noticed the memorial, this was somehow different and as I looked closer, I understood why. The large portrait was that of a baby. This life could not have been more than a couple of months if I am gauging this infant correctly.  Someone lost a baby. Do we  even want to go into all the reasons why the younger a life is when it departs from us, the more tragic it seems? No.  It just is.

I was conversing with a woman on the train about the frivolity of some of the rich when she jokingly queried “What happens when you’ve been there, done that?”  I got the joke of it, I did and I smiled at it, still…

I think of my sons, my friends, others and myself. We spend so much time a’bitchin’ and a’moanin’ about the things we can’t do, the things we want to do, the things we have yet to do. We wrap ourselves in the dreams of the next big adventure we often barely appreciate the act of the things we have done once they become memory.  All the things we’ve already done even the truly regrettable ones, we at least got to do them.

So right now, right now, I keep thinking about this newest angel looking down upon us who didn’t get to do anything but brighten someone’s life for the briefest moment in time and think…

“What happens when you’ve been there, done that?” …

…Be grateful.

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Today is Day 23 of the March Slice Of Life Story Challenge.
Come see how others are slicing it up this Friday.
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It Is …

Posted by Raivenne on March 22, 2018
Posted in: Just Me, Being Me, March 2018, Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers, The Present, Thinking Aloud. Tagged: , , , . 1 Comment

…what it is.

I woke up. I manage not to fall in the snow as I make it to work. I work.

I come home. I snack. I chat with my best friend for a bit to catch up.

I realize the time and what I have yet to do on this busy, yet ho-hum day, before I call it a night.

It is what it is….

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Today is Day 22 of the March Slice Of Life Story Challenge.
Come see how others are slicing it up this post winter storm Thursday..
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The Hardest Word

Posted by Raivenne on March 19, 2018
Posted in: Just Me, Being Me, March 2018, Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers, The Present, Thinking Aloud. Tagged: , , , . 6 Comments

You don’t mess up often, Rai, but when you do, you apologize and fix it quick. I like that about you. 

My zodiac sign, Virgo, has the reputation of being a perfectionist. Yes, I try my damnedest to ensure I’m correct in everything, because in the words of Elton John:

Oh, it seems to me, “Sorry” seems to be the hardest worrrrrd. 

I abhor being at fault, let alone apologizing for it. So I try to avoid being put in a situation where that must occur like the plague.

Even when I’m purposely being offensive in a very mean way with my favorite tool of choice – cutting sarcasm – if I had to go there as the kids say it was very likely you earned it. So I’m not at fault, let alone sorry for hand delivering your just deserts. Granted, I am a Virgo raised by southern women – your just desserts will be served on silver platter with a lace doily and a shipload of mint julep charm, but it will be served.

Words I live by:
 If you can’t say something nice, say something clever but devastating.

Still, while I am a perfectionist, I’m not perfect. Thus, on those rare occasions I find myself in the position of being genuinely wrong (clutches non existent pearls!), I do believe in falling on my sword.

I have what I call the Sorry Triple A Plan: Apologize. Accept. Act.

Apologize:  The actual “I’m sorry” part of this. I try not say I’m sorry unless I truly am. “I’m sorry my delay in response created such problems on your end.”

I prefer I apologize.  “I apologize for the inconvenience”.

Accept:  When I know it’s my fault, I try to let person know that I understand where I felt I went wrong and register the damage and/or hurt done.

“I was awaiting response from my team. I should have kept you abreast of the situation so you could inform your team, but I did not. I should have handled that better.”

Act:  Where what I do speak louder than what I say. I seek to make amends to ease whatever stress/issues may have arisen due to my actions.

“I can offer a/b/c in light of my mistake. What would be preferable to you to work this out and ensure we’re on good ground to not let this occur in the future?”

I ensure I follow through on my deliverables in a timely fashion – if it’s at work. In my personal life I make sure I keep my word on whatever resolution. In either case I do my damnedest to not let whatever it was occur again.

That being said, I don’t wallow in it. I messed, I’ve apologized, we’ve worked it out. Do not bring it up again. No one likes dead horses except the glue factory, let’s move along.

Unless you want me to be clever but devastating, that is.

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Today is Day 19 of the March Slice Of Life Story Challenge.
Come see how others are slicing it up this day.
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To Disappear Completely

Posted by Raivenne on March 16, 2018
Posted in: dVerse ~ Poets Pub, Just Me, Being Me, Meeting the Bar, Poetry, Soul, Thinking Aloud. Tagged: , , , , . 9 Comments

A voice gone
In the nebulous
Echoing
Thoughts faded
To disappear completely
Never felt again

I am lost
Much like the fog in
Morning sun
Just like dew
To disappear completely
In the deep vastness

In the words
Once heard in volume
Now slowly
Gone silent
To disappear completely
And no one noticed

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dVerse Poets Pub | MTB: Phantom Form — Shadorma

A Shadorma is a phantom form enshrouded in shadows and mystery. It is a syllabic poem consisting of six-line stanzas. The pattern is 3-5-3-3-7-5, and you may write one stanza, twenty, or anywhere in between.

In honor of its nebulous origins, pub tender Gospel Isosceles suggests the content explore the fog, the paranormal, the unexplained phenomena of life and death. Ultimately though, let the Shadorma lead in what one shall write…and reveal.

Et tu Taxes

Posted by Raivenne on March 15, 2018
Posted in: Just Me, Being Me, March 2018, The Present, Thinking Aloud, This World Needs An Enema!, WTF. Tagged: , , , . 2 Comments

According to Wiki: The Ides of March is a day on the Roman calendar that corresponds to the 15th of March. It was marked by several religious observances and was notable for the Romans as a deadline for settling debts.

Friends, Romans but specifically Americans know that, with some exceptions, April 15th is Tax Day in the U.S.  Tax Day is the date in which whether you owe Uncle Sam (the anthropomorphize avatar of the US government) or Uncle Sam owes money, you grin and bare/bear it and have to have your taxes filed.

I mostly remember the Ides these days because my mother was one of those people who though having received her W-2 at the end of January, would still wait until April 14th to mail in her taxes.

In elementary school most of us learn about Julius Caesar and his infamous last words when his supposed rod dog/main bro Brutus turned coat on him and just watched him get shanked on March 15th. <– Like my revisionist history? I once made a joke that Mach 15th was the 30 day warning bell. Mommy knew she had a month to get her taxes in order. My mother would have loved that Tax Day is on April 18th this year for it would have given her two more days of procrastination.

And why all of that? Because somehow a discussion on taxes came up while attending the repast of an erstwhile colleague.

Death and Taxes – get it? Get it?

Yeah, yeah, yeah – I know, bad Raivenne, bad! I’ll go bed now.

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Today is Day 15 – The Ides of March Slice Of Life Story Challenge. 
Come see how others are slicing it up today.
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Say What Now?

Posted by Raivenne on March 14, 2018
Posted in: Just Me, Being Me, March 2018, The Present, Thinking Aloud, This World Needs An Enema!, WTF. Tagged: , , , , . 8 Comments

Rant Time:

I’m beyond sick and tired of reactionary memes and posts meant to shame how some people use their social media.

For example, seeing posts criticizing others for being upset over a celebrity’s death when there are wars going on and humanitarian crises all over the place that they should take precedence. Or a meme citing how one is annoyed with people talking about the Housewives of Wherever controversy as if in discussing what happened it somehow means they aren’t paying attention to the world around them and other far more important things going on.

Don’t like what they have to say? Scroll.

To hell with social media policing those only want to post about their family, their pets, their insignificant and significant others. Let them post cute puppies and cats and pandas and zombies and… Let them share their joys in peace. This mindset that one’s head is in the clouds if they aren’t posting relentlessly about every awful blessed thing going on in the world. That doesn’t mean they’re ignoring anything;  we do not know what exists in their lives beyond their FB page. Perhaps some only want to use their social media for more lighthearted fare because they are in fact having those heavy-as-shit conversations elsewhere, with loved ones, or through messenger, or out in the real world. Let them have their joys.

Don’t like what they have to say? Scroll on.

To hell with policing those who choose to post their their hurt, their rage. Maybe it’s self care; maybe they struggle with anxiety, and curating their social media to mitigate their rage is in fact a survival mechanism. A survival mechanism which keeps them from being the example for or against gun control that’s next trending the news feed.

Don’t like what they have to say? Scroll. The. Hell. On.

My Facebook, WP blog , Instagram and Twitter pages all represent one thing and one thing only: the views of  the owner of those pages – me.

So here’s a News flash: Those pages are not a democracy.

Sometimes friends/people post things that leave me scratching my head. If I don’t understand or don’t agree, I don’t spew on their page – ever. I may private message someone if I think I am the one misunderstanding something and meaningful dialog can come from it – otherwise I scroll, scroll on.

(Giving away my vintage here: I just sang those last three words in tune to The Floaters – “Float On“, but I digress…)

Seriously, Quid Pro scroll, bro.

Raivenne posts are a monarchy and I am its Empress. 

If my posts impress, excellent, but I know sometimes they will depress. I know sometimes they will inflame. When that happens – and it will – if you don’t like it, then please scroll away, scroll away, scroll away.

(Anyone Enya guess what song went through my head just then? But I digress – again…)

I will be just fine – trust me.

Don’t like…

  • when I deleted your comment on my post because I thought it was cruelly offensive?
  • if I choose to ignore your inflammatory Xsplainin’ comment on my X-subject post because I refuse to be drawn into yet another useless argument?
  • that I’m still upset over Chester Bennington’s suicide?
  • my sarcastic answer to those stupid FB question?

It’s my page, my posts. Think about it – that Send/Post/Publish button was not pressed by accident.

The land of Raivenne is a dictatorship and I am its ruling dick. 

(Yes, I made a dick joke – a dumb one at that. Don’t let the fact that I have a vagina, lead to the falsehood that my balls aren’t bigger.)

Don’t like it? Well, you know what to do….

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Today is Day 14 of the March Slice Of Life Story Challenge. 
Come see how others are slicing it up today.
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To Fall or To Rise

Posted by Raivenne on March 3, 2018
Posted in: Just Me, Being Me, March 2018, Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers, Soul, The Present, Thinking Aloud. Tagged: , , . 11 Comments

March 1st marked the twelfth year of my being a widow. I’ve had no serious relationships in the interim. A friend asked this morning if I think I will fall in love again. I told him I hope so, but I’d prefer to rise in love again someday. It sparked a discussion that the results of I thought would make a good post. So here goes…

We say we “fall” in love.

Fall.

  • to come or go down quickly from a high place or position, to let yourself come or go down to a lower position, to become lower, to become less,  to lose value)

Falling is uncoordinated; a generally unconscious act. No one wants to fall. The body instinctively tries to reach out to brace itself against it. Falling is not something we want to do in any other circumstance. 

Why is it allowed in love?

Now to rise? That’s something different.

Rise.

  • to move upward, to become higher, to advance to a higher level, to become stronger,  to be or become better, to make the special effort.

To rise. To uplift. To  elevate. 

Love should bring you above it all even when in the muck of it.  Does anyone remember a few ago during the Vancouver riots after the game – specifically the now infamous photo of the couple kissing on the ground? There’s chaos around them, you can see police in the near distance behind them. Yet they are kissing.

Vancouver Riots 2011 - Couple kissing on ground

Vancouver Riots 2011 – Couple Kissing

For all that was going on around them, in that moment it, was just about the two of them. It’s him giving her comfort in the midst of madness, still it comforts him as well for her to accept it and return it.

That was a moment of rising in love between two people who had no idea the moment was captured until it was shared across the globe.

Also note: rising in love is no guarantee of its reciprocity. Nor is it solely the providence of romantic love.

  • Ask the parents visiting their newly admitted drug addicted daughter screaming vindictiveness from her rehab room as they walk away praying it works this time.
    They rose up to keep loving her.
  • Ask the caretaker of the elderly sun-downing woman who no longer recognizes him as her son these days. He rises up to love her regardless.
  • Ask the classroom of children who shaved their heads in support of their teacher stricken with cancer. They rose up.

And because sometimes the love you have to rise up to, is the love of yourself:

  • Ask the man momentarily miserable, yet at peace as he walks out the door of an abusive relationship knowing he’s never coming back. He rose.

And that is the blessing, but also the crux and the curse of it.

Because falling in love is relatively easy. I said relatively.

Falling in love is that easy B-. It required very little effort on your part to pass the test. Now you have time for that Saturday Social with your B- and maybe even B+ friends. And if that was all you wanted, then okay.  When you see the Honor Roll and your name was not on it. You’ll always know you could have done better.

Rising in love takes work, compromise work and yes some sacrifice.

Rising in love is not being satisfied with that easy B-. You’re willing to work for it. You give up a couple, maybe a few Saturday Socials. Some friends may tease you. You see the pictures of what you’re missing, but you persevere. When you do show up at the Saturday Social again, you do so with a hard earned A, maybe even an A+ and your name on the Honor Roll.

Yes, rising in love is work, but the pay off is so worth the extra effort.

You do not choose who you fall in love with. However, you always choose who you rise in love with.

So yes, I do hope to fall in love, again.

But then I want to rise.

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Today is Day 3 of the March Slice Of Life Story Challenge.
Come see how others are slicing it up today.
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