To Use or Not To Use: The Snooze Button

                                                    clock                                “The Melting Watch”   by Salvador Dali

       I am again, using my beloved metaphor.  In this post it refers to decisions about timing in our lives.  I started this blog as my own feelings, my gut intuition, told me it was the right time. The time had come, after continuous hits on my snooze button, to heed the alarm.   I realized the clock was now precise, when after previous attempts to start writing, words seemed forced and off.  No matter how I tried, they wouldn’t flow naturally, but instead had to be pulled out and awkwardly put to print, but now suddenly, they decided to spring from my fingers.  I find I need to do very little editing, save some spelling and change of a word here and there.  Its natural, it flows unobstructed, because, the time is right.  I am sure it is the same for all writers, poets, journal keepers, our hearts just seem to know, and they will tell us.

       Most of us do what we do, as we have things that need expressing.  Some took place long ago, some are recent, many are ongoing.  What they all have in common, is that they need to be said.  Whether it is advice that may help others in the same, be they former or current, situation, or it is for a “cleansing of the soul” to help heal old hurts and make peace with blocked out memories, once and for all.

                     book           I, like many, started years ago by writing in a journal.  I actually still have it.  When I read it now I see the 19 year old girl who was struggling to find her way, that many years later, did.  I was always strong, though at the time did not think so.  Again, all who struggle think they are weak, but they are always the strongest.  What they don’t realize, as I did not, is that to struggle is to fight, and it is strength that gives you the will to fight.  To fight is to find your way, to find your way always brings some peace, not total, as any conflict has a price, but enough to bring at least some degree of happiness.

       My first journal spoke of dreaming of gaining my freedom, how I would do it, and who would be included in my new world.  As it went on, it talked of course of hurts, disappointments, struggles, mine with many family dysfunctions which manifested in anxiety to which this day I fight against.   As all of us who express in writing, as the years go on we usually see growth, or sometimes we see a deeper sinking into despair.  I was blessed, by God I suppose, with an unbending fighting spirit, that would not allow me to sink, so, here I am.   My journey into this world of expression began long ago, but was kept locked in my journals, diaries, poetry, sketch pad, only now to be expressed.   Some posts will be lighthearted and short, some long and from the darkside.  No more snooze button for me, time to get up and face the day.   So, let’s down our coffee, get out that door, and feel the sunshine.

This poem I wrote after that early struggle, basically asking myself for what I needed, and realizing we are our own greatest strength.

Would You

If I was hungry,

would you fill my plate?

If I was thirsty,

would you be my drink?

If I was lonely,

would you be my friend.

If I was frightened,

would you hold my hand?

If I was angry,

would you calm my soul?

If I stumbled and fell,

would you help me up?

If I flew too high,

would you bring me back to earth?

If I wanted to scream,

would you show me how to smile?

If I couldn’t stop the tears,

would you dry my cheeks?

If failures slowed my progress,

would you push me to succeed?

If my heart was broken.

would you piece it back together?

If I tugged upon your sleeve,

would you ask me what I needed?

If darkness loomed before me,

would you lead me to the light?

If the load became too heavy,

would you lift it from my shoulders?

If unkind words befell me,

would your gentle voice erase them?

If my world should end tomorrow,

would you be forever with me?

You have,

you did,

you would.

Thank you.

 

Copyright 2018 SA Klukiewicz   Image copyright: pinterest.co.uk

 

 

 

Those Who Rock The Boat

     Those of us who rock the boat, you know who you are.   We are never content, to be idle, as something in our life, our world, or in another’s, sways and spins out of control and loses its heading.  While others sit quietly and cling to what I call their lifejackets: Outdated ideas, beliefs, or lies told so many times, they take on a strange and twisted truth to them, we do not.  It’s tough to go it alone, as many times you will if you choose to stand and right the sail.  Though it can be frightening, it seldom is something that once you have done, you will not do again.

     Many create chaos, cause discord, for no reason or worldly purpose, other than for their own wants and desires. Usually some narcissistic rant that serves none other than them, this is not “rocking the boat” this is merely being an asshole.

     True Rocking the Boat, I believe is a learned behavior, as I see it also in my children.   We all pick our own varied causes and concerns, but the outcome is the same.   We draw attention to the wrong, the inhumane, the disingenuous and the cruel, and do what each one of us feels will change its direction.  We rock that boat and hope She finds her true and steady course.  There is the chance some may sink, but if so, they were meant to.  Not all causes we take up, or wrongs we try to right,  will welcome us with open arms.  Not all will join our fight or see our point, but those that do, make the possibility of ourselves falling overboard, seem trite in the trade.

    So this is a SALUTE, to the true rockers of the boat.  Those who despite their own fear and uncertainty, face being chastised, mocked, or deserted by some, because they believe in a cause, or will not tolerate a behavior.  A line to sum up, those that are bystanders, and those of action.

boat

“You’re my witness, I’m the mutineer.” Warren Zevon

A later poem of mine that leans enough toward this subject to include it.

Time to Go

Has the time come, you want out

you’re sick to death of me?

Just let me know, your ship is sailing

no more of me you’ll see.

I’d rather that, just truth upfront

than empty meaningless banter

no flowers at unexpected times

no inpromptu false gestures.

I know it’s very hard to share

those unpleasant, but true feelings.

It’s as if, when exposed

up in smoke will go

all of those involved

like a vampire exposed to sun

in one of those B movies.

But as is said

better to go down in flames,

with no regrets or what if’s

than to linger at the doorway

with should or shouldn’t I

running around inside your head

as a cat would chase a mouse.

I’m getting dizzy,

please if you wish, just go.

I’ll find a fence, a good strong fence

to push my feelings for you behind.

I’ll find a lock, a sturdy lock

that cannot be sprung, or be broken.

And no matter how those feelings shout,

or rant and rave

” Come let me out! ”

I’ll plug my ears, I’ll sing and dance

Avoidance is the key.

For if the road awaits you

and our time has long since passed,

the door has just been opened

step through it and close the latch.

Copyright 2018 SA Klukiewicz     Image Copyright  Affirmation.org

 

 

 

 

Spirituality vs Religion – Are they one in the Same?

       This is a subject that touches us all in different ways, some are swept away by it, some barely grazed.  My own experience, with both, as I feel they are different, is long, complex and varied.   In my younger years, sometimes it seemed Religion, was all I had to hold onto, it kept me from falling into the abyss, it was the cliff my fingers held onto, the hand that pulled me back up. It was the belief that God, or Jesus, or both, heard me and would in some way answer, and sometimes I think that they did, and I believed.

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      As I grew up, and years started to pass, I would many times, “talk” to God, which consisted of a picture of Jesus that hung on my bedroom wall.  This colorful, yet simple department store print,  served as the focal point to which I would expound my dilemma, my struggle, sometimes asking for help to clarify an answer that I thought I had but needed reassurance, was it the right one?   Other times I had no clue in which direction to go, and asked to be shown.   I would always feel better after these “sessions”  as it seemed I would see things more clearly.  How could Religion not be the answer when it had given me one so many times? 

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      As with all things, the time always comes for questions and doubt.  What brought forth these two things for me, was when I started to not like the answers I was, to me, being given, human nature I suppose.  Nothing makes us ask God, why, more than loved ones being hurt, seemingly lost, or both.  Nothing makes us doubt more than witnessing suffering and pain and heartache.  So, for many years, it was not that I no longer believed, it was that I felt no answers were clear, and all paths were clouded.  So many questions flowed, in summary, much like what others also ask: ” Why is there so much suffering in the world, what purpose can it possibly have ? ” In my mind, it has none, so I, in my infinite stubbornness and belief in what I thought was right, what I thought the world should look like, decided I didn’t like the way God and his son Jesus, were running things.  I turned my back and thought it was time I took that colorful picture down and never look back.

       Quite a few years passed, life happened, some good, some bad, nothing really seemed different.   I asked, ” Is there a God, or do people fear their end may really be, the end, so they believe because that thought is just too frightening ? ”  The phrase “There are no atheists in foxholes” is always true.   We lived our summers in a lakefront cottage during the latter part of these years, a place like no other, it was here, that I stepped all the way into the Spiritual.   I had always been on the outskirts of it, having strong intuition and sensory perception.   I feel to this day, it was the Spiritual who brought us to this special place we called Splendid Isolation.   I felt it from the beginning, and as I grew seemingly more restless, though happy and fulfilled, it drew me out, I spent more and more time in the woods, surrounded by Mother Nature, accompanied always by my dogs, true catalysts between us and the natural world.  It was here that I felt I was looking upon a bigger picture, from the ground trees sprung, my dogs were next in line, I was the most complex creation of the three, we were all connected, a true circle of life.   It was this “belonging” that brought me the peace, that I still carry with me today.  

6a

      Religion is a framework, beliefs, stories, written by man, but depicting things none of us today were there to decifer, what was real, what was not.  I myself believe in evolution, not creation, the Bible was written, then changed, to me that is a work of fiction, but God could certainly exist, Jesus could be his Son, or just a man.    Spirituality is the connection we feel with that which surrounds us, it is our open mind, the path we chose to follow and how we walk upon it, it is the way we live our lives,  it’s what we leave behind, and what take with us when we go.  Is it God’s voice that guides us, or our own heart seeing the way, is it Heaven that awaits us, or another way of existing.    Religion may light your path, but Spirituality is what finds it.   

This was my second poem, another very old. At the beginning of my journey still finding my  literary footing here:

The Road Ahead

The road I must take now unfolds before me

and leaves behind that barren place of sadness.

A noble spirit steps out to be renewed

no longer to roam the streets of darkness.

A tiny spark that smouldered oh so dimly,

once contained, has now burst forth in flame,

infinitely to burn, eternal light

embodied by a spark that flickered in the darkness.

 

Copyright 2018 (pending) SA Klukiewicz

Image copyrights: videoblocks.com  tinybuddha.com  @Kagaya

 

Recycling Isn’t Only for Bottles

        I started recycling back before it was kosher, it is always fun to jump on a bandwagon that you know is going somewhere.  I would pack up my daughter who was about two at the time, and head to the local warehouse about ten minutes away, that was acting as a recycling drop-off.  It was usually quite empty, except for a very kind and amiable older couple that I would run into most times we visited, which was about twice a week.  We would chat for a few minutes, as I proudly dropped off our wine bottles, the only thing we had to recycle at the time,  as they were only taking glass.  As we all know, from there recycling took on its own life, it grew and became a wonderful way to renew and reuse, to take what was once tossed away, and turn it back into something of worth, which brings me to todays post:

The Recycling of our Lives             goddess_of_the_earth_by_ladyowl-d4wgtnm

       There are many, too many, people, some that I have spoken with, some that I have never met, that have come from dysfunctional families.  It’s an all too common occurrence, and one that I myself believe is a part of just about everyone’s life to some degree.  Some are first degree, minor occurrences, small set-backs, a few angry words here and there, nothing major, easily forgotten.  Some are second degree, this gets into more troubling territory, episodes of various levels of neglect, verbal abuse, favoritism, things that always stay with you, the next level is the worst, third degree.  This is where the darkest parts of human nature exist, alcoholism, domestic violence, severe verbal abuse, sometimes physical, the aspects of which real damage can be done to all those involved, and is never forgotten, only managed.  Out of these three levels of dysfunction, to rise, survive and escape it, we must find some way of recycling.

      It is very difficult at a young age to know which way to go, what to think, how to act, when you receive very little guidance.  You just put one foot in front of the other, use what God made you with, and keep moving ahead.  At the time, you never realize that you are recycling the thrown aside, the cracked, the damaged, into something worthy and useful, you just know that you want to walk far enough, to escape the dark clouds surrounding you.  Most of us will make it, some of us will not.

      What kept me walking was to a large extent, stubbornness.  It is very hard for me to give up, on anything, a task, a goal, or myself, and I never did.  I recycled hurt, sadness, neglect and pain, into writing, sometimes drawing, caring for younger siblings, pets, and of course gardening, as well as in later years, aiming for, and finding a career path, constantly dodging the doubt, anger, and jealousy hurled at me, from those that are supposed to nurture not negate, I had decided I would not be stopped, and I wasn’t.

     I found it very interesting to observe the ways other family members recycled their own issues, be they the same as mine or somewhat different.  One became a feral cat savior, rescuing many, having one share many years, before she crossed over the Rainbow Bridge.  I observed it give him great determination and focus, and to this day, after me, I feel he is the strongest.  Another focused on being the best mother she could be at a very young age, but also started her journey toward a most commendable work ethic.  Another focused also on work, whatever that encompassed, he took it, ran with it, and hit a home run.  Others were less obvious, but had their ways, took them, molded them, into what they needed to renew. 

     As we all know, recycling has made our world  better, safer, a happier place to be.  It also works the same for the human spirit, no one should  be tossed aside, ignored or intentionally broken, but sometimes we are.   What we choose to do after the fact, how we renew ourselves, is unique to us all, but makes us better, safer, and in a happier place to be.

 

Image by: ladyowl.deviantart.com

 

 

Pieces of the Kaleidoscope

 

The most difficult part of a blog, is making it something others want to read, or share, or even learn from.  Although the general rule is to have a theme, for me, and for the reasons I created this blog, that will not do.  My postings will cover different themes, touch varied subjects, share many thoughts, and consist of vibrant colors.  My hope is that in time, I will have an audience, and commentators of like, if not, I suppose this will turn into, my memoirs.  

I have many things I want my blog to contain, I will bounce from one subject to another, which has always been my way, some may call it OCD, my explanation is simply that I tend to get bored easily. I may jump from a memory that I choose to share, to an opinion that I hold, from a hobby that I indulge in, to a poem written in my past, to a current event, or even a lesson I myself have learned, and want to share.  I hope that along the way I will pick up, pass along information to, or maybe even help, others on their own journeys, be it from darkness into light, sadness into joy, despair into hope, or from what they thought was the end, but is actually their beginning.

  This poem I wrote when I was quite young, possibly 21,  when I suppose I was trying to find the real me.  All of my writings are one of three things, either taken from my reality, part my reality and part fiction, or a very few, total fiction.  This one was my reality, YOU.

You are my hopes

you are my dreams

You are my laughter

and my tears.

You are my wins

you are my losses

You are my heart

and my soul.

You are my past, my present

and my future

You chase the dreams

I too run after.

You are my strength,

you share my weakness

You are my path, my compass

and my feet

In other words, you are me.

 

Copyright 2018 (pending) SA Klukiewicz

 

Second Hand Elegance

    I have always LOVED a bargain, not only because my humble beginnings required it, but because it makes money go soooo much further, and there is a sense of accomplishment, turning another man’s toss outs into your own treasures.  I will be honest, this idea was not entirely my own, the basics of it were borrowed, but the painting aspects to coordinate and make it more aesthetically pleasing were my addition to the project.

I think we all love to watch birds, their beauty, cheerfulness, and don’t we all wish we could fly!  I would imagine, watching them would help to cheer up even the most gloomy day.  So, when I saw the basics for this birdfeeder on Pinterest, I had to put my own stamp on it and give it a go. 

  The black and tan one started as a clear second hand vase, with a coat of black satin spray paint, and plate with matching colors for the feeder.  I use PLENTY of glue, as being outdoors in Florida, as hot and humid as it is, requires a very tightly attached second piece.  Toss in your favorite bird seed, put it in a spot where you ( and your cats) have prime viewing, and enjoy.

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   The white base is actually a candle holder, which I most likely will paint flat or satin black possibly leaving some white to show through for a “shabby chic”  look.  Again, a straight flat white paint out of doors in Florida will not hold its look for long, and I do love to integrate black as it always adds elegance.  Add another pretty plate to match and Voila!  

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  For a few cents, and an hour at most, you have unique birdfeeders to add beauty to your garden.  You will have good fun creating, and the birds will thank you.   Now hit up the second hand shop, get out that spray paint, and soar!

Creative Ideas And Practical Gardening Advice — Home Gardening

Horticulture is much more than a space outdoors. It is even more than just a hobby for the green thumbs! The effects can be especially profound if you’re good at it. TIP! Healthy soil will be your best defense against the pests that can invade your garden. Healthier plants are greater in strength and resistance […]

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