Gotta do it every day, dig deep.
Difficult is normal, it’s the usual,
When it comes up, don’t think it’s hard, that it’s unfair, instead, accept it,
It’s part of the gig called life, the day-to-day, how it goes sometimes, maybe often.
Life is hard,
It’s the usual, you need to dig deep, not unexpected,
Rather, what each of us have to do, each day,
Dig deep.
My crew, living with the crazies. 10, 8, 7. At times I get their names mixed up during the hustle and bustle of day to day.
They drive me a little koo-koo sometimes, but I know I do the same to them. That’s living together; that’s family.
They sing and dance and laugh and tell their tales, whole fantasy worlds, realities, all their own.
Living with the crazies. Learning lessons. Loving together. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
All those years ago until now this song still rocks, this gal Joan Jett still rips it~
Was reminded of this recently when I heard my younger daughter singing this song. There’s renewed hope for humanity. : – )
“I saw him dancing there by the record machine
I knew he must have been about seventeen
The beat was going strong
Playing my favorite song
And I could tell it wouldn’t be long till he was with me, yeah me
And I could tell it wouldn’t be long till he was with me, yeah me
Singing, I love rock and roll
So put another dime in the jukebox, baby
I love rock and roll
So come and take your time and dance with me
Ow!
He smiled, so I got up and asked for his name
But that don’t matter, he said, ’cause it’s all the same
He said, “Can I take you home
Where we can be alone?”
And next we were moving on, he was with me, yeah me
Next we were moving on, he was with me, yeah me
Singing, I love rock and roll
So put another dime in the jukebox, baby
I love rock and roll
So come and take your time and dance with me
Ow!
He said, “Can I take you home
Where we can be alone?”
Next we’re moving on, he was with me, yeah me
And we’ll be moving on and singing that same old song, yeah with me
Singing, I love rock and roll
So put another dime in the jukebox, baby
I love rock and roll
So come and take your time and dance with me
I love rock and roll
So put another dime in the jukebox, baby
I love rock and roll
So come and take your time and dance with
I love rock and roll
So put another dime in the jukebox, baby
I love rock and roll
So come and take your time and dance with
I love rock and roll
So put another dime in the jukebox, baby
I love rock and roll
So come and take your time and dance with
I love rock and roll
So put another dime in the jukebox, baby
I love rock and roll
So come and take your time and dance with me”
Writer(s): Richards Jake Hooker, Sachs Allan Preston
After an Adventure Day, maybe a Slow Day is a good idea.
Nothing too fast, more pragmatic, low to the ground.
Each step taken without angst, expectation, trod on, one by one.
A little laundry, not finished,
A vacuum on the floor for a couple rooms,
Really hot, sprinkler runs on the front lawn, shorts wet, change in the doorway,
Park time, just a bit,
Hot dogs roast,
Dogs walk,
Fire drill (!) before bed,
17 check-ins before sleeping,
3 (?) fan complaints,
Then silence, then slumber,
Then alone, feeling alone, searching for the words to live by,
Striving for the words to live by, reaching, remembering, realigning to the purpose,
Reset for the week, reluctant for a bit, longer a little longer, then stretch,
NIGHT, NIGHT,
GOOD MORNING,
Let’s go,
Thankful for a slow day.
Scenes therein…
Good lesson yesterday about adjusting, backing off, letting be, trusting.
Letting go of the immediate, the angst.
She taught me that yesterday. A lesson I hope will help us both in the future, especially as she transitions through adolescence to adulthood.
I’ll be ready to listen; I’ll be ready to hold her, support her. And that might must be enough. I’ll do more if asked, but maybe not needed.
Maybe being there will be enough.
I remember when I was a kid, sometimes we used the word “wicked” to mean “cool”, etc. I’d like to think I’m a “wicked dad” in that context….but just now, feeling pretty far from it.
Weird day, best intentions sideways, some practical tasks completed, but big picture, I’m feeling wicked in the old-fashioned sense of the word.
My eldest is balling her eyes out, somewhat on purpose it seems, sitting in the closet in a room down the hall. I’m in the kitchen, I can hear her frustrated, anguished cries from her.
Not sure what happened.
She was cross with me when I decided to park farther than she wanted me to from the store entrance earlier in the afternoon. And she gave me the silent treatment all through the store. She’s not even eleven, and I can feel myself pretty much completely befuddled at the whole circumstance.
For all my belief in myself, that I know how to communicate and can adapt to others’ tones, personalities, etc., I’ve not had much luck with women in that regard. In the aggregate. And now I fear, that shortfall is going to extend to my daughters. Hell, maybe my son too…
Not feeling of very high self-esteem as a communicator / relationship problem solver just now.
Seems like I bump along with them, all the kids, sometimes. I don’t lose my cool too much, though sometimes my tone takes on a more…firm character…but when this “cold shoulder” happens…well, I just don’t have an answer.
Except wait. Be patient. Don’t lose the cool. Stay calm. It’s pretty hard, though. Really f*cking hard, actually. My nature is to be really strongly pulled into other people’s emotion, experience, etc. And I KNOW that’s not the right approach, so the struggle is all framed up, bumpy, hard road ahead on this front.
All the same, on we go. How does Brene Brown put it? “We are built for struggle; we are meant for love and belonging.” Something like that.
Yepper.
This sharing not a cry for help, or “whoa as me”, but just a share to share, get it out there, get it off my chest. For anyone reading this who has met me / knows me beyond this blog, sharing so you know what’s up just now with me on this life journey, a little immediate share of bumpiness, a little more context to why I strive for HalfFullAllGood.
Because I’m wicked inside. And not always “cool” ~ but striving, ever striving.
ONWARD.
Funny thing thinking about, writing about anxiety. I see different angles at different times. No surprise, really.
That’s how anxiety works; that’s how our life experience works. Anxiety is part of it. Sure it can be overwhelming, crippling, devastating, even deadly…but then again, it’s just part of life too.
I don’t experience it in a deadly extreme fashion very often. In fact, not ever.
I’ve never considered checking out, or giving up forever, or crawling, or running, away. It’s fucking hard sometimes, but it hasn’t permanently dominated me (yet), in 54 years on this Earth.
Sure, sometimes is it hard. Sometimes it’s really hard. Sometimes it lays on top of me and won’t let me know. Sometimes it creeps up…
Like in the dark, late last night. Like after going to bed, to sleep at reasonable time, anxiety creeped up on me, unsuspecting. A few hours into the night, just after midnight, I leaped out of bed, and almost punched the wall, thinking it was someone standing there in the dark…
Anxiety waiting for me, looking at me, gently tossing and turning, maybe whispering…
I don’t know…but I didn’t want it there in that moment…don’t want it there, in the darkness…
But if it’s there…well fine…
If it’s there, I might roll over, or I might leap up and punch it in the face,
One thing I do know, I’m not giving up, and I’m not checking out.
Let it come. Come along, anxiety…
In the dark, in the light, how you like…I might not be ready, but come along all the same.
It ebbs and flows, anxiety.
It’s a fluid, dynamic thing.
Sometimes it washes over; other times it laps laps laps gently on the shore.
It can turn violent in an instant, that’s my experience.
Anxiety is a shape shifter; it comes in the darkness, finding its way to your demise.
How can it optimize it’s crippling, or at least negative effect deep inside you?
To my own personal experience, it’s not a panic attack; it seems that if I’m ready, awake, prepared, I can soldier on. I don’t panic.
But I don’t like it; or at least, historically I’ve tried to avoid, ignore. I’ve used various means to mediate its grip.
Lately though, I wonder if it’s hell-bent on my demise; maybe that’s not its purpose, its intent.
Maybe that shape-shifter quality is to find it’s way to my most inner, vulnerable side, to help me grow, change, be…better?
Shape-shifter. Maybe anxiety is encouraging me in its own, weird way, to be a shape-shifter too…?
Yea….maybe…
Anxiety is a constant reminder.
At 3:00am it pops up.
Thoughts churn.
What is simmering on my mental back-burner?
Those things are in the slow-cooker of my anxiety. It’s a revolving menu.
Let them cook.
