Prompt Responses written (slowly) to items found on The Daily Post.
“Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” – the White Queen, Alice in Wonderland.
What are the six impossible things you believe in? (If you can only manage one or two, that’s also okay.)
1. I’d get up at a decent time.
2. I’d exercise – ie. do more than just watch the bootcamp disc.
3. I’d read and remember to eat breakfast daily.
4. Unemployment would be eliminated and everyone would be working/having jobs they’re passionate about.
5. Students would no longer need to drop out of classes/school because they are getting the education they deserve.
6. No more souls would be hell-bound.
Today’s Daily Post Prompt asked about a nightmare remembered.
Arriving to work only to find that the desk I had was no longer there, nor were the familiar surrounding walls and doors, etc. In the movies, the ‘state of nothingness’ is shown as an empty white void (or if you’ve seen the last Harry Potter film, a deserted train station in a fog). This day of going to work (and no, it wasn’t for any particular job, just ‘work’) was a new kind of emptiness, of ‘who am I connected to and where did they go?’ More to the point, ‘What/how did I do wrong?’
The meaning of this odd nightmare? Well, let’s begin with -I’m an introvert and have no trouble admitting that. An illogical fear however, aside from having to attend a large, crowded gathering, would be to finding myself alone, little to see, next to nothing to hear and worst of all, nothing to read.
There’s probably more to this than what I’m seeing or imagining. Time to find a good book to read.
2.18.13 – Far From Normal
- Someone like me should be dead – that’s what statistics from that day had said. The family joke: “I was in a hurry to take my time.” That’s the blessing of knowing that God’s in control.
- Someone like me should be content with the one language, and one language only. Well, I thrive for other languages, including making sense of this one. My brother and I call it ‘sweet revenge’ given how the languages of our grandparents were beaten out of them.
- Someone like me should be limited in sight. Well, that’s why I like taking photos, try to see things differently, or see what I’ve foolishly taken for granted.
- Someone like me should/could consider writing my life’s story. Why? What I’ve told of myself, I’ve given in part to the characters I write, the places I create, the events that unfold. The people I meet – artists and others alike – move me and motivate me. Their stories are worth telling and I’m not above sharing that.
- Someone like me should ‘fit into a box.’ – Well, given my name, my heritage, my interests and my values that my parents raised me with, church and other teachers to guide me, I will take my place in the world and hope to make a meaningful contribution, in helping bettering someone else’s world.
2.17.13 -Mentor Me
The best mentor I had in the world of managers would be John M. He encouraged us to balance work and play:
When we worked, he maintained a ‘proper business profile,’ yet let us get away with ‘musical mischief.’ (One night, during the final hour, we hollered to the office where John reviewed the books – “John, is it Miller time?!” Of course, we meant Glenn Miller, one of many great bands John introduced us to, gifted us with and let us play even if we didn’t sell it. Getting caught by an unseen shopper who gave us a disapproving look almost dampened the idea, until John nonchalantly said, “Miss, would you choose Glenn, Ann or Roger?” She smiled; we played; when she left, we danced.
He ‘forced’ us to find ways to have fun – even if that meant taking an unnecessary night class like film-as-literature:
“If everything in life could be found in the books we have here, why leave the library? Find something not work related and have fun. If you don’t choose something, I will.” (the last said with a wink of an eye.)
And he regularly told us he doubted we’d stay there forever.
The last point wasn’t a warning or said with meanness but as a fact of life. Maybe that was why I was able to leave the store I had journeyed to, with him slated as the new boss, in return to the one I had left – only to be reunited with him at the same small store until I left the state for a spell.
We keep in touch, talking about family, films, fun fiction and other things. I think it’s time to plan another southern-bound train trip….