Category: Daily Post

Daily Post · writing

I Wasn’t Trying to Be a Writer

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How do you write what people actually want to read?

Honestly, I started journaling when I was younger. I wasn’t aware of what or how I was writing, but I knew writing out my feelings felt good to me. Barely a handful of people read what I wrote and encouraged me to keep writing.

I decided to go to college for nursing and had to take an English class. At the end of the class, my teacher said, “I know you’re going to school to be a nurse but when you have time, I want to encourage you to take a novel-writing class.”

She taught me to describe something in a way that would help the reader feel what I was feeling. For example, instead of just saying it was a dark night and there was a white phone, I might say, “The dark night felt like a spotlight on the white phone.”

In this class, we also read a book. I had maybe only read two or three books, including the one she had us read, which was called Dead End in Norvelt. It was probably meant for ages 11 to 18, if that. Those books were easy for me to read, so if I was going to start writing, I decided I would write about things I understood, like lessons I’ve learned from things I’ve done, and I would keep it easy to read.

I don’t always know what someone else wants to read. I just know what I want to say. I write about things I’ve experienced, things I’ve learned, feelings I’ve had, and sometimes just a thought that gets stuck in my head and won’t leave me alone.

I try to write in a way that is easy for me to understand, because I figure there might be someone else out there who understands it too.

Maybe that’s what my teacher saw in me all those years ago. I wasn’t trying to be a writer. I was just trying to put my feelings into words.

And maybe you don’t have to know exactly what people want to read. Maybe you just have to be willing to tell your story and hope that somewhere in your words, someone finds a little piece of themselves.

Daily Post · writing

Maybe There Are Just Rules to Life

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Do you believe in karma?

I’ve been thinking about this one and I’m not sure I believe in karma the way some people do. I don’t believe that people are necessarily punished for the things they do. I think there are rules to life, and sometimes you just have to follow them.

For example, if you are driving and you are texting, talking, reading, or even putting on makeup, you are taking your attention away from driving. If something happens, I don’t necessarily see that as being punished. There are just certain rules to driving, and one of those rules is that you need to pay attention to the road.

Another example is something as simple as dusting your furniture. If you don’t dust a piece of furniture, it is not going to become clean. It’s going to get dusty. That’s just how it works.

I think life can be like that too. Sometimes our choices have consequences, not because someone or something is punishing us, but because that is simply what happens when we make certain choices.

I also keep thinking about the movie Set It Off. Sometimes people can be really good at breaking the rules and getting away with it. They can start become arrogant because they think they have figured out how to get away with things.

But eventually, you can put your hands into too many cookie jars. You get so busy trying to keep up with everything you are doing that you mess up. You forget something, make a mistake, and get caught.

So maybe I don’t believe in karma as much as I believe that there are rules to life. You can choose to follow them or not, but you don’t always get to choose the consequences.

Sometimes it’s not karma.

Sometimes it’s just breaking the rules.

Children · Daily Post · memories · writing

“What Being Made Fun of Taught Me”

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What is one word that describes you?

When I was in elementary school through the last few years of high school, kids made fun of me. I’ve written about those times before when I first started my blog. Writing—and even counseling—helped me close most of that chapter, so I won’t go too deep into it today.

If I had to describe myself in one word, it would be compassion.

But I will say this: back in middle school, I made a promise to myself. I was going to love and accept people no matter what. I wouldn’t put others down or try to make them feel bad about the way they looked or for who they were.

Recently, I saw a post on Facebook about two men who overdosed in a bathroom. The post itself didn’t seem meant to encourage anything—in my opinion, it was the opposite. But a lot of the comments were hateful. It made me sad, not just because of what happened, but because of how people responded. It reminded me that we don’t always know what someone has gone through or what led them to where they are—and it reminded me of the promise I made.

Mind you, I’m not perfect—I still mess up. But no matter what, you will always have a seat at my table.

Homemade card from a co-worker. We had Secret Santa’s.

Daily Post · Family · Home · writing

Once is Never Enough

shelie272 Comments

What movies or TV series have you watched more than 5 times?

I’m a big movie buff, so narrowing this list down wasn’t easy. There are so many films and series I’ve enjoyed over the years, but these are a few that really stuck with me. Some made me laugh, cry, and some told a story that stole my heart.

5.) Schitt’s Creek

I laughed, I cried, and I thought this show was both hilarious and touching. You can’t go wrong with Eugene Levy, and it’s great to see his son right there beside him. It reminded me of Doc Hollywood, a movie from the early ’90s with Michael J. Fox. Sometimes we all need a new perspective.

4.) The Queen’s Gambit

I was not familiar with Anya Taylor-Joy, but she knocked it out of the ballpark In this movie. She wasn’t dealt the best hand of cards to begin with and landed in the right place at the right time. The way she carried herself in fashion, pose and attitude, especially in a man’s world , was remarkable and envious and way before her time.

3.) The Longest Ride

I wasn’t very familiar with the cast, but they did a wonderful job. The movie is a bit cheesy, but there’s another story being told—actually three, if you’re paying close attention.

2.) Flight (Denzel Washington)

Let me just say, if Denzel Washington is in a movie, I’m watching it. It’s probably going to be good, because he’s such a great actor. This movie is suspenseful, sad, honest, and deeply moving.

1.) Regarding Henry

I remember watching this with my family when it first came out. Another favorite actor of mine, Harrison Ford, doesn’t disappoint. Sometimes other people’s choices can change the path we were heading toward. This movie is sad, sweet, and truly touching.

These are just a few that stuck with me, but I’m always open to discovering more great movies?

Daily Post · Family

A Tale of Growth and Flight

shelie271 Comment

What skills or lessons have you learned recently?

I’ve been following a pair of eagles on a platform for a while now, and found myself telling my mom all about them. I told her about the beautiful view from their nest, their teamwork, their faithfulness to one another, and how they were just doing what they were supposed to do without any turbulence getting in their way.

My mom replied, “Shelley, the grass isn’t greener on the other side of the fence.”

When she said this, I chuckled and said, “Do you mean nest?” She seemed a little frustrated and just waved her hand.

This morning, I woke up and checked on the eagles. I saw that J had been gone from the nest from yesterday into this morning. S, J’s mate, was sitting on their eggs and had been there all night, with only a few breaks. Seeing him like that grabbed my heart even harder. It wasn’t easy to see, and I was sobbing while trying to explain it to my husband.

While in the shower, I started thinking about the first two years of watching them. During those years, J laid eggs, but each time they were ready to hatch, they didn’t. One time, during a snowstorm, she stayed on her eggs for over 72 hours, only for them not to hatch in the end. The third year, they were successful, and I cried like a baby with tears of joy.

When she returned this morning, I couldn’t help but read the comments and think to myself: if this clutch hatches, the new viewers will feel even more connected to their story and more appreciative of what they are a part of. I know there will come a season when all of this ends—and who knows what that will look or feel like. But as my mom, Linda, always reminds me: every nest—and every life—has its struggles. Knowing that makes me appreciate these moments even more.

Daily Post · memories · writing

Are You Still Mine

shelie274 Comments

Describe a phase in life that was difficult to say goodbye to.

That night at a friend’s house,

I reached for your hand — you froze,

our fingers clutched

and you glanced up, smiled, and said, stay here awhile.

As the night went on, we were stuck like glue,

and those feelings of being inevitable were so brand new.

When we laid down, you kissed me goodnight

and asked me what about you did I like.

The way you looked out the front door

when the oven went ding,

for the cookies we made that New Year’s Eve.

The rest of the night we made out;

Unchained Melody played in the background

as you stole all my doubts.

When the night was over and we said goodbye,

you called for a week to say more than hi.

I came to see you for two whole days;

we slept on a mattress and floated into space.

The evening I left, the rain came down,

the leaves were all wet; we were a mess.

I heard from you a few more times,

and Unchained Melody plays in my mind.

Now, all these years have gone by,

and I’m still back there, without a goodbye.

Daily Post · friendship · love

Lifesaver

shelie271 Comment

If you could be someone else for a day, who would you be, and why?

I thought about being someone powerful—someone with lots of money, someone with a great body. The kind of power a president has, the kind of money Lukas Walton or his family has, and the physique Zsa Zsa Gabor had.

Then I started to reflect on this. One day is not long at all to do what needs to be done with that kind of power, wealth, or attraction—whether it’s passing a bill so everyone could receive insurance at a low cost, finding a charity or organization I believe in, or going to the beach and walking around in a skimpy bikini!

The Holy Spirit led me to someone who has not been as fortunate when it comes to medical issues—neurological ones—and life-changing surgeries. Their story is not mine to go into any further, but they would be my choice. I think if we were able to live inside the stories of other friends, family members, or acquaintances whose odds are against them, we might find that what we once thought was important would no longer matter. We might trade power for perspective, wealth for compassion, and beauty for gratitude.

Daily Post · Home · love

King Of The Jungle

shelie271 Comment

Write about your dream home.

My dream house is a ranch-style home on the outskirts of a small town. The porch wraps all the way around, and it’s concrete and flat to the ground. Soft, dim lighting lines the porch, giving it a warm glow in the evenings. There’s a big willow tree in the front yard, and the front yard is bigger than the back. I have a few wooden rockers, a glider for two, and a large wooden chair. There’s a small side table on the porch, perfect for early morning coffee or a refreshing drink on hot summer days.

The house is modern. The living room and kitchen are open, with a small amount of counter space separating the two, but you can see both areas clearly. My living room has just enough shelves built into the wall.

We have three, maybe four, bedrooms, but they are not huge — just big enough for guests to have a bed and sleep comfortably. The master bedroom has only about four stairs leading up to it. It’s a decent size, big enough for a king bed to sit in the middle of the room and still have space to move around.

The window in our room is on the right side of the bedroom. It’s rectangular and opens outward instead of sliding up. You can see most of the weeping willow when looking out. Every night before bed, my husband climbs up the tree in his boxers and swings down like Tarzan!

Daily Post

Felix

shelie277 Comments

Felix Silla, lived in room #106. He was short, hairy, bald, with light brown hair on the sides of his head, and on the back of his head too. His right leg wouldn’t bend when he walked, and his left leg dragged. He would always wear shorts that grazed his knees and a tee-shirt that hugged his firm body. The tee-shirts he wore never came down past his waist line. He would smile every-time you say something to him, even the simplest hello. When someone would make a joke or say something funny, he would put his right hand over his open mouth, the palm of his hand facing out and throw his head back.

It’s been a long time, Felix. I still feel joy, when you come to my mind.

On Saturday mornings, I used to put out mail. In the residents mail boxes. Once it was passed out. I made an announcement over the intercom. Felix was always the first one down and others soon followed. He would grab his talking-books he ordered or if  he had an envelope he would shuffle to the desk where I sat, and ask me who it was from. And then quietly go back to his room. I don’t know why Felix stood out to me at mail time. It might have been the way he struggled a bit to get down to the mail box so fast to see if there was something waiting for him.

When we went to supper all the residents and him would joke around. They would call him Alpo: One time, he went shopping, and grabbed a can on accident.(This happens a lot because my residents are blind.) There was no shame in Felix game he announced it to everyone one night during supper, and that was always the going joke.

When he would come to the medicine desk at eight-o-clock. He would carry a red, white, and black transistor-radio. He would sit it up on my counter, turn it down, and say”You getting tired yet Shelley” I would tell him. Yes I was, until you showed up! he would turn red, put the back of his hand over his open mouth and throw his head back laughing. He took his medicine and headed straight back to his room.

When I noticed Felix being a bit more quiet and not AS prompt. I would make a pit stop by his room, after all my meds were passed. He would be laying there toward the wall, curled up, with that red, white, and black transistor-radio, tucked inside the circle of his arm listening to music. I’d ask him if he was okay or if there was anything I could do? He’d tell me his neck hurt. I asked him if I could rub it for him. And he said “yes Shelley”

I feel pensive whenever Felix comes to my mind. He comes often. He was one of the first resident who showed me the meaning of humble, not the definition. The way he lived his life. Simple, sweet, funny, and quiet.

The night he passed he was holding on to that red, white, and black transistor-radio

 

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I can’t let it go, Felix.