Dear Writer

I know you feel stuck right now. I know you look at your manuscript and you pound your head against the desk. You think your writing sucks. You think the scenes don’t flow and the characters aren’t being utilized in the best way. You don’t know how to show off a new culture. You know where you want to go, but you don’t know how to get there. You keep writing every week and you’re only frustrating yourself, but you don’t want to take a break because you want to be active in the waiting. You want to be ready in case the next chapter is right around the corner.

Dear writer, you’re doing okay. Write what you know. Write what you see in your head even if it’s not the next scene. Write what you want to happen and let the rest come naturally. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Help got you this far, it won’t abandon you now.

Dear writer, your story is worth telling. Stop comparing it to others. Stop looking at the current trends and thinking your story will never fit in. Your story was meant to stand out. Put in all that it needs even when it isn’t mainstream. There’s a reason for your story. Believe it, and don’t ever give up.

Dear writer, there’s a lot going on in life right now. Most days you want to be lazy. Most days you’re trying to take care of yourself and that which your job demands. Writer, you often feel like a fraud, but you’re not. That passion is still there even when your tears are drowning you.

Dear writer, don’t give up. Someone needs your story.

Do Anything

If you could do anything right now, what would you do? Would you go home for the day? Would you sleep or go on vacation? What about something bigger than that? If you paused for a moment to look at your life, would you like what you see? Would you find that you’re happy where you are or do you avoid looking at your life because you know it’ll disappoint you?

If you could change one thing about your life, what would it be? Your job? How much money you have? Where you live? Who you spend most of your time with? Your habits or hobbies? Maybe you’d give yourself more time to do something you enjoy or maybe you’d change things in a way you know you’re making a difference in the world?

What’s stopping you?

What’s stopping you from doing the one thing you wish you could do right now? If your job isn’t working out, what’s keeping you from going somewhere else? Is it a good reason, or is it an excuse? Maybe you’d change who you hang out with? If you’re a homebody, what’s stopping you from reaching out and gaining a group of friends? If you could get fit, what’s stopping you from becoming more active? Maybe you just want to get a pet? What’s stopping you?

If you could change anything, do anything, what would it be? Is there any reason you can’t do it?

It’s Not Fine

Daily writing prompt
If you had to give up one word that you use regularly, what would it be?
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Though this isn’t the first word that came to mind when I read this prompt, I would probably give up “fine.” You know the drill. Someone asks how you are and you say: “I’m fine.” Or something goes wrong and you say: “it’s fine.” Situations could be unfair, you could be exhausted, or even on your last leg and we continue to say “everything’s fine.”

You know, I googled the definition of that word. This is what I got:

Fine:

  1. Adjective, of high quality
  2. Adjective, (of a thread, filament, or person’s hair) thin
  3. Noun, very fine particles of mining or milling
  4. Adverb, in a satisfactory or pleasing manner. Very well.
  5. Verb, clarify (beer or wine) by causing precipitation of sediment during production.
  6. Verb, make or become thinner.

If everything is falling apart around you, it’s not of high quality or satisfactory or pleasing. You could view everything being fine as everything is thinning around you–maybe your hope is what’s thinning? But regardless, “fine” is a word I’m starting to dislike. I hate how automatically we say it these days. Someone asks how you’re doing and you give the short answer.

Maybe we need to expand our vocabulary or make it the norm to tell the truth?

I wish I had a solution to replacing the word “fine,” but even if we don’t want to automatically use that word, to say something different, we need to be able to trust the person we’re talking to.

That’s a whole ‘nother soapbox.

I’m going to try to resist the urge to use “fine” and not use it so regularly unless something is actually one of the definitions above.

23 Years Ago

23 years ago several planes were intentionally run into the World Trade Center Towers in New York, into the Pentagon in Virginia, and a Pennsylvania field. The field wasn’t intentional, but brave heroes put it down before it could crash into Washington D.C. It was a day the world stopped and millions of lives were changed.

It’s wild for me to think that it was 23 years ago. I’m sure to some people, it still feels like yesterday. I remember what I was doing that day. I was in catholic elementary school. Our classes stopped and we were all ushered to the church. They said something happened and, being so young, I didn’t quite understand it. Yet, we were all asked to pray. I remember praying, “God, I don’t know what’s going on, but You do. Please be there for the people who need you and help where Your help is needed.”

That night and days after, you see the images on the News. As a kid, you know buildings are only supposed to smoke on TV shows, not the News, and when people jump out of a building, a hero is supposed to catch them.

I can’t say I fully understand what happened that day. Why all that senseless violence happened, but I remember how it connected everyone. People were kinder after those towers fell because we were all burdened with this horrible tragedy. You bring up 9/11 and suddenly people who were enemies were unified by grief, anger, and the agreement that no one deserved the fate 9/11 wrought upon thousands of people.

Years later, my history teacher makes the comment that the students coming through his classroom are getting younger and younger that not a lot of people remember 9/11 or were even born when it happened. After 23 years, there’s plenty of young people who weren’t around yet. I may not have been impacted like a lot of people, but I remember, and I’ll continue to remember.

And, I’ll continue praying nothing like that ever happens again.

They Say

Your workplace says you’re replaceable.
Your voice doesn’t need to be heard.
Just get by. Just get stuff done.
Until your position overturns.

Your friend group says you’re forgotten.
Contact lost within the void.
You determine it isn’t worth trying,
And decide that friends are something to avoid.

Your family says get on with your life.
Get that money and make a difference.
Find yourself a husband or wife.
They don’t understand your uniqueness.

The world says no one cares.
People pass you by. Pollution fills the air.
Every where you look there’s trash on the land.
Selfishness is often what we demand.

Your mind says you’re alone.
An empty room often echoes.
You keep quiet. You don’t want to burden.
But you’re the one who’s often hurting.

One says this
Another says that
So many have something to say
But how often do we check ourselves,
And make sure what we say is okay?

We are not defined by what they say.

New Roommate

We’re learning to live together
You, my new pet, and me.
Learning what we like to do
And each others’ personalities

You like to be up at unseen hours of the morning
But I make you go back to sleep
When morning comes, you do nothing but play
With everything you see

Your favorite is to pounce and run
The wand toy is hours of fun
But dare I put it away
You complain the rest of the day

When I’ve work to be done
You entertain yourself
As the drop cloth becomes your fortress
You dive in. You dive at. You throw it this way and that
Then when I walk by, its my ankles you bat

You like to find trouble
with the power cords and the TV
But when I snap my fingers
You’ve learned to cease

When I leave the room
You run after me
You have to see where every door leads
I swear the dishwater isn’t that interesting

You have all your claws
I know you’re not mean
Even with the accidental scratch
Or twenty

When we play with hands
Your claws are put away
You only get me
When you miss the toy I dragged away

When you’re all worn out
You pass out on the couch
And let me rub your toe beans
You have a favorite spot
But it’s also mine too
So we fight over who gets it
And it’s usually you

When nighttime comes
We’ve figured out a routine
You settle down at the desk
Then lights out, you pounce at me

I jump and you jump
Then you settle at my knees
Until morning comes
It’s soft purrs and sweet dreams.

Discussion of Values

Last week, my job did this values discussion where we went over our individual values and our organization’s values. For our individual values, we were given a list of 230 values and we had to narrow it down to 10 and then 5. From that 5, we had to pick our top 3. These values were words like trust, truth, joy, ambition, kindness, respect, intensity, performance, quality, spirit, self-reliance, so on and so forth.

Now, the exercise was spoiled for me. I was warned we’d have to do this and I remember thinking that the list better have a certain word on it. It’s my go to trait that means a lot to me. When I was handed the list, I found this word and I boxed it in right off the bat without even looking at the other traits.

It was interesting to see what people picked off the list. Happiness and joy have different meanings to some people so the ponderings of why pick one over the other came up. When you found someone who shared at least one of your top three, you could discuss why each of you picked it. I thought it was interesting how no one else at my table chose the same top three that I did, yet I still respected the choices they made. Someone had devotion as one of theirs and another person had integrity. These values weren’t my top three, but I was glad they were in the top three of somebody else.

I’m not going to give the full 230 values, but I think it’s a good thing to ponder. Do you value courtesy? Growth? Playfulness? Maybe efficiency, empathy, or certainty? What about compassion, rigor, or wisdom?

My top three on the list are grace, honor, and loyalty. I feel like those words encompass a lot of other words on the list. We all need grace for mistakes to help lead us to redemption. Being honorable means you’re true to your word and sure-footed in integrity. Then, there’s loyalty, the word I sought out right off the bat. Having loyalty to something means you’ll never give up on it even when it’s in the wrong. It’s not a trait you find often anymore. Too many people have been hurt after giving their loyalty to something because that something didn’t give it’s loyalty back. It’s my favorite value because its the value of friendship and devotion. It’s the value that says no one gets left behind.

So, how about you? What are your values?

Beat Me

Beat me,
Beat me,
Beat me again.

One of these days
I’ll probably give in

But for now, it’s decided
My happiness doesn’t depend on you
I know my own worth
Despite the punishments you brew

I’ve accomplished a lot
I can hold my head high
I was successful in things
I normally wouldn’t try

Blind yourself to my progress
Blind yourself to my worth
But I know my accomplishments
Improve this earth

So, beat me
Discard me
Act like I’m not even here

I know I make a difference
I know how much I care
I decide what gets to me
I know the weight I can bear

Little Kitten

Scurrying little kitten
Running around the room
Curious about everything
That seems to be brand new

Learning what you can touch
And learning what you can’t
Your favorite thing’s the feathered toy
And you don’t like being held in hand

Curious little kitten
Has never seen a can of pop
She wants to get the fizz inside
But her purr echoes out the top

Purring little kitten
Just as happy as can be
Playing with the string of a tape measure
Until I frightened her with a sneeze

Pretty little kitten
With all her extra toes
With one look, gets the zoomies
And here and there she goes

Now, now little kitten
What should be your name?
One that is as pretty as you?
Or one that is untamed?

Perhaps, little kitten
We’ll just have to wait and see
Maybe something new will come
From your personality

There you go again, kitten
Playing with the tape measure
I swear, I’m not naming you that
Not now, not ever.

Job Picking Blunder

Recently, I was asked to write up a list of all my past work experiences for my current job. They want to see all the species I’ve worked in my life. While writing it all up, I had to laugh at myself. One of the places I used to work at was the plant pathology lab at my college. It was a job I got to help me with rent while I went to school. It didn’t evolve animals, but I thought lab experience would look good on a resume and plants are just as important as animals. I remember being a little excited for it. I didn’t care much for lab work in high school, but I was hoping this job might turn that around.

One of the lines on the job description was “working with vectors of plant pathology.” I didn’t think much of it.

I remember the interview going really well. The gal that was hiring me was super nice and I could see myself working for her. Good vibes all around. Then, one word leaves her lips and I deadpanned.

Bugs.

Dummy me didn’t think to consider what the vectors of plant pathology were. Of course it’s bugs. Bugs eat plants. They spread disease in animals so why wouldn’t they spread disease in plants as well? I hate bugs. I don’t want them near me. I don’t want to touch them. I can’t stand even looking at certain ones. So, I mildly panicked when the interviewer told me I’d be working with the bugs that spread the disease she’s studying. I think she saw the look on my face because she quickly told me they were tiny bugs. They were the size of a fruit fly and a gnat. I convinced myself it would be fine. I wouldn’t be seeing their characteristics like I do in bigger bugs, they’ll just be little dots flying in the air, so small my eyes can’t distinguish their creepy little features. I would be fine.

You know what else is in a laboratory that I forgot about? A microscope.

At first, my job was easy. I would plant and grow the corn we were going to infect with the disease. Then I moved up to dealing with the bugs by moving them from one corn colony to the next to keep them alive. This species of bug was an invasive species, so I had to take extra precautions to make sure they didn’t get out of the lab and disrupt the circle of life where I lived. I’d wear different clothes, work under a sheet, and use a vacuum to suck them all up. It went well. They were so small, it didn’t bother me that I was around them.

Then, I moved up to helping with the RNA extractions and logging and readings and really it was a bunch of stuff I understood at the time, but can’t explain now. It was computer work, and I was okay with that.

Then, I got to learn how to inject the bugs with the disease we were studying so they could infect the corn. It involved chilling the little bugs so they go into a hibernate-like state, then putting them under the microscope, poking them with the needle, and injecting them with the disease.

I honestly thought I would be fine. I’d been working with these bugs long enough, I didn’t think it would bug me seeing them under the microscope, but I took one look and my stress spiked. I don’t know what it is about them. They have creepy little legs, the exoskeleton feels wrong, their beady pupil-less eyes, and the buzzing of their wings is insufferable. I didn’t want to poke them with a needle, but I wasn’t going to tell my boss no.

Thankfully, I was left alone to complete this task and deal with the panic that rose up with me just because of a few tiny bugs that couldn’t hurt me. I tried poking them without looking. It didn’t work. I tried blurring my vision to blur their features. It didn’t work. I tried focusing on the plate the bugs sat on, looking past them in a way, and it sort of worked.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t just stab them. You had to poke a specific spot and be careful that the needle didn’t go all the way through them. The first time I successfully poked one, I had to walk away. When you poke yourself, your skin gives a little before anything pierces it. When I poked these bugs, their entire rear end contorted and caved in until the needle pierced through the area between their plates, the pressure released, and the body reformed around the needle. Suddenly, I was holding a needle that was inside the majority of this bug’s body.

I injected the disease, but the bug back on ice, and went to the bathroom to stress cry.

I already had high anxiety from having to stare at the bugs, but realizing I actually stabbed one, put me over the edge. I got mad at myself. Why should I care that I’m stabbing a bug? I kill mosquitos with my bare hands all the time and if one of these invasive bugs got lose from their containment, I didn’t feel bad about killing it. So, why did I feel bad about stabbing it? It’s a bug. I hate bugs. Yet, I’m not a monster. I free bugs, spiders, and moths from a pool if they get stuck in it. I feel guilty when I see a dragonfly fell victim to a fly trap.

I pulled myself together in that bathroom because I knew this was important work for agriculture. If we can’t inject these bugs, we can’t study the disease to help save crops. I went back to the lab and stabbed several more tiny bugs. It never got easier.

I ended up leaving the plant pathology lab when they decided to move to a southern university. My boss wanted me to come with them, but I decided I needed to get back into animal related jobs. I wasn’t upset to end that job, but I was going to miss the people. They were all so kind and encouraging. My boss even nominated me for a university worker award. I didn’t win, but I was honored all the same.

Looking back, it now makes me laugh to think I worked with bugs. I’ll never do it again, but at least I know I can make progress in overcoming my fear of the creepy little buggers.