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Showing posts with label Distraction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Distraction. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 13, 2026

How Important is It?





Sunlit


Distracted by the growth


The flight of stairs long, 


the day was hot but 


there would be days 


when green would turn to brown, 


snow and ice would coat the stairs


climbing to the top ~

   difficult, 

     unlikely


how important was my goal? 


find another way!


chip, chip, chip at the ice to make the stairs safe?


oh, just let it all go!


or


find warm and cosy for me and my pen


how important is my goal?


“Most of the important things in the world have been accomplished 

by people who have kept on trying when there seemed to be no hope at all.”

~ Dale Carnegie, writer

(1888 ~ 1955)

Friday, September 27, 2024

Under Water

Distractions are easy to avoid ~ as long as they are outside. At a store, on a book shelf, anything that can be cleaned, a TV on the wall, out to a movie….But inside the mind! 


“Come on! You need a break

 ~ it will help your research ~ you’re just curious - it’ll only take a couple of minutes……” Before the thought is fully formed, hands and feet are already busy with the duster that seldom gets used, 

or rearranging the furniture, 

or maybe taking a walk just because. 


All those distractions can be good things ~ 

letting that too busy mind mull over the 

most recent project and plan a next move, 

or it could be simple avoidance. I choose to 

believe the mulling over theory and keep my 

hands and feet still till I truly listen to myself.


“Most of what we say and do is not essential…

Ask yourself at every moment, ‘Is this necessary?’”

~ Marcus Aurelius

Tuesday, October 10, 2023

To Be Mindful ~ 2






Overwhelmed with distractions

scattered around me

I swept them all to the side 

and continued my walk forward

keeping only those that served me.







“Keep your mind off the things you don’t want 

by keeping it on the things you do want.”

~ W. Clement Stone

Sunday, October 1, 2023

Distracting Puzzles ~DEDICATION ~ Theme for October 2023




Dedication to a project…..

Endeavouring to play….

Distractions come in…..

Interested in the pieces…..

Commitment to the……

Attention to the details……

Tantalizing word images……

Incandescent mirages……

Overwhelmed with…….

Naive about……..





“To those who, in spite of everything, still choose goodness.”

~ Marie Lu, The Midnight Star

Tuesday, August 29, 2023

Distracted


Distracted

not by bright shiny things

or too much noise

merely restless and

exhausted

disinterested but

curious

wanting to keep moving

but sitting is preferable

reasons all normal, yet

pushed together make me

distracted

and ready to sleep.



“Don’t be impacted by things that are only fleeting temporary distractions.”

~ Steven Redhead, Life is a Dance

Sunday, June 4, 2023

Beautiful Shadows


There is always a horizon surrounding me,

when the world is too big 

so full of distractions,

gathering bright shiny things

that blind me to my focus


When I choose to slow my dance, 

the world is only a moment and

I’ll see the flowers along my path,

remembering my grandmother's gardens ~ 

all my horizons become beautiful shadows.


“The eye is always caught by light, but shadows have more to say.”

~ Gregory Maguire, novelist

Tuesday, February 28, 2023

To Branch or Not to Branch




I love trees. Individual trees. 

Tall or short, 

grand or stumpy with 

trunks, leaves and branches, 

home to birds and squirrels, 

insects and tiny bugs. 


possibly an orchardist in another life, 

I see a tree in need and want to prune it. 

trim off random suckers draining it of life

remove dead, bare branches that weigh it down

cut away branches broken by wind or a passing semi

 

when the wind swirls ideas, 

poems and stories through my mind

I can pick up my pen and write or,

let flashing, shiny coins distract me or 

pick up my pruning shears and get to work.


“As the gardener, by severe pruning, forces the sap of the tree into 

one or two vigorous limbs, so should you stop off 

your miscellaneous activity and concentrate

 your force on one or a few points.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Saturday, December 4, 2021

Distraction

Distraction

“Open air, whether in deep forest, widening prairies, or bottomless ocean….. - Mom!” Clayton's orange hair was a mess. In frustration, he finger-combed his hair, pulled on his ears and crumpled page after page. “Mom! I just can’t get this right. Can I read it to you and you tell me what you think?” Yelling from his room down the hall from the kitchen, he hoped his mother would help him out. Actually he hoped she would call him to bring his work into the kitchen. He was about to call her again when his wishes were granted. Rubbing his hands, he leapt from his chair. Grabbing up his notebook, he stepped over his gym bag, kicked a few crumpled pages aside, he called out “Coming!”

His mother finished the last of the dozens of cookies she had been making. She shook her head and smiled. Pushing a few stray brown curls back from her forehead, she surveyed her work - and the work ahead of her. “Clayton, Clayton, Clayton….here. Let me read that - Open air, whether in deep forest, widening prairies, or bottomless ocean…It looks all right to me….Clayton, stop eating my work!” She caught him just as another sugar cookie disappeared into his mouth. “But mom, they’re my favourites. I love sugar cookies. Are you going to decorate these?” His mother smiled behind her eyes. “Sugar cookies your favourite? I thought your favourite were the Ginger Chews? Or was it those oatmeal/raison cookies?” She whisked a tray of cookies out from under his grasping fingers. “Now, I’m not the one you should be talking to. Talk to your father. He’s the English Major, and never lets either one of us forget it. But he does know more than I do.”


“But I don’t like talking to dad about my work. He gets all into his teacher mode and asks me what I think is wrong, then tells me I’m wrong about what I think and besides that…….” His mother interrupted. “It’s Saturday, he’s in the garage working on his 1960 Mustang. He wants it ready for the Christmas parade next week.” While she talked, she prepared a small plate of cookies. Picking up a thermos from the cupboard, she handed both to her son. He quickly stuffed his notebook under his arm and took cookies and thermos from his mom. “What’s in here? Coffee for dad?” 


“Yes and he’s got sodas in his little fridge out there. Go. Go. I’ve got to get the frosting on all these cookies now, get them packaged for the bake sale and get them over to the church…Go!”


“All right, all right! But if dad gives me a hard time…….” Clayton disappeared out the back door still complaining, but glad he had the cookies.


~~~~~


“Open air, whether in deep forest, widening prairies, or bottomless ocean…” His father was no help at all. But they did have a good discussion about horse power. There were no cookies left. Wiping his hands of cookie crumbs, his dad said. “I’m not being a teacher today, son. You’ll have to figure it out for yourself.”


“Distraction from distraction by distraction.”

~ T.S.Eliot

Wednesday, May 5, 2021

Chapter Two, Episode Thirty-Two - It’s a Plan - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

I had a lot of cleaning up to do! Sentence structure was a bit of a mess further on in this episode. No misspellings, one or two punctuation issues, just sentence structure. I always surprise myself when I leave things in such a mess.

My apologies!



It's a Plan


Tender new shoots pushed through the soil. Samuel had carefully prepared his gardens as he did every spring. Gardens really owned by the Beaufort Estate, Samuel Forrester had tended them so long that they seemed to belong to each other. In the new greenhouse, the one Miss Emelina had built the previous spring, he had tender tomatoes, beans, beets, carrots and more all ready to transplant in a few weeks. Although the Island weather was more agreeable than other parts of Canada, his father had always cautioned him. “Not til after May 24th, son. Your grandpa never planted outside before that because ‘Weather can turn bad. You’d lose all your hard work.’” Most years, the weather stayed, but he was pretty strict about planting. The forecast for the next few weeks was full of warm sun and light breezes. He knew be doing a lot of puttering and working the soil to avoid planting early. 


Heading home for the night, he wondered how Elizabeth was doing. He was not a man who knew how to deal with a woman crying, and when it was Elizabeth, he was really stumped. Calling Martha to come over had been Elizabeth’s idea and he as glad of it. About to open his front door, he paused, his cell phone buzzing. “Now, who could that be? It’s gettin’ pretty late for phone calls.” He glanced at the call display - Elizabeth! “Hope it’s not another panic call…….Elizabeth? How're you doing?”


“I’m just fine Samuel. I want to thank you for coming over the other night and for the raspberries. Martha and I finished them off - none left at all.” Elizabeth had put the last pot away, made sure the refrigerator was stocked and called him before leaving for home. “Martha stayed overnight with me. We talked late, late. Drank tea, ate cake and all the raspberries. I’m all cried out now, Samuel. But enough of that.”


Samuel, in the house, took his hat off and sat down in his easy chair while Elizabeth was talking. “You sound like your old self. Maybe a little wore out, but pretty good. What're you goin' to do now?”


“Today, I’ve been at work. Such a relief! The other thing I want to talk to you about, Samuel, is a picnic on Sunday.” Elizabeth heard a muttered grumble. “Before you get all blustery about it, we’ll get  picnic tables out. Nobody’s going to sit on the grass. First of all it’s still too wet and second, you’ll be hard to get along with for weeks.”


He decided he’d better hear her out. He didn’t want to get her upset again. She may have said she’s all right, but he knew her better than that. “All right then, Elizabeth, tell me all about this turn around. What do you need me to do?”


“Well, it started when I went to James office to order some groceries.”……………….


~~~~~


“James, are you busy?” Elizabeth tapped on James' office door. “Just finishing something up, Elizabeth, but come in and sit down. I’ll be right with you…..Okay, what do you need? How are you?”


Elizabeth Saunders, Cook for the Beaufort Estate, had everyone concerned. It had not been like her to fall apart. Today, she seemed quite fine, as though nothing untoward had happened. He'd learned of her only sister's passing when Martha had stopped into his office in the morning. He turned from his desk to listen to her. “Oh, I’m just fine, James. Everything is just fine and Miss Emelina has given me a job to get done this weekend. Dr. Jeremy has some days off and the two of them will be living in the upstairs. I’ll be ordering groceries in the morning for their meals.”


“That’s quite all right, Elizabeth. Go ahead and order what ever you need. I wonder if Dr. Jeremy remembered that Miss Emelina’s birthday on Sunday.” As long as James had been butler for the Estate, he had kept note of everyone’s birthdays.


“Oh my, I had forgotten. I’ll make sure there’s something special for her. Hmm…….” Elizabeth looked out the window.


“What is it? What are you planning, Elizabeth? I know that look - it’s the same one Martha has when she’s up to something?” James sat forward in his chair, smiling.


“Well, can I use your phone? I need to call Martha. I can’t say anything more until I talk with her.”


~~~~~


Samuel wondered what Elizabeth had cooked up. “Martha and I have decided on a picnic for the wedding reception for Dr. Jeremy and Miss Em and for Miss Em's birthday. It’s short notice for Miss Dez, Matt, and Giles and Melanie, but Martha has already called them and they’ll be able to come. James will be calling Dr. Jeremy to get him in on the surprise.” Elizabeth sounded more excited than Samuel had known she could be, especially after her upset of the last few days. “This is where you come in Samuel - you’ll need Giles to help with the picnic tables. We need to have good distancing for us all…………..”


~~~~~


Elizabeth’s sore heart had been eased. In the quiet of her home that evening, only the scratch of pen on paper and the tick of the clock could be heard. She kept her box of tissues handy to keep her eyes dry while she wrote. Finished, she folded the paper, slid it in an envelope and addressed it to Charles B. Pickham. “I’ll get a stamp at the post office tomorrow. It is so strange that this letter is to Lily's husband and not my dear sister Lily. I will miss her forever.”


“Tears shed for another person are not a sign of weakness. 

They are a sign of a pure heart.”

~ José N. Harris

Friday, March 5, 2021

Distraction in Two Parts

Losing Count

Each distraction seems to have real value…… 

There really are only two issues:

  - timing

  - hurry up and get it done.

No - hmmm - three things - the third: ‘I need a break’  

that one doesn’t hold water. I haven’t even started yet.

#4 - I need to change positions, so I’ll go and blanch the beans

Of course #5 is pretty important - 

the phone rang and it must be answered, 

but while I’m on the phone (it’s pretty smart) as well as messages - there’s a new photo on there and my texts: it could be the tax office. But it actually looks like a spam so I’ll make a note to call them to see……


Keep my pen to the page - author Natalie Goldberg’s direction ~

but how does that happen when I lift my eyes to stare out the window

Leaving only a blot or a squiggly line on the page


Did you hear that noise? 

Probably nothing 

- but you never know.

It could be suspicious or just the mailman

I’d better check.

The distractions of my life are like 

the pilling on my old polyester afghan ~

each little pill must be removed right away - 

even if most of them have been there for years. 

Bathroom breaks are important - sometimes with great urgency 

I’ll just clean the sink and sweep the floor while I’m there,

Then there’s the cat who demands my attention 

  • that last one is a lie:  he sees me sit down to write, 
  • finds a favourite chair across from me and goes to sleep. 

Did I mention sitting down to write 

the story or poem or essay that was playing

jumping around in my head 

while I was distracted by everything else?


When will it become my important distraction?


“If we let ourselves, we shall always be waiting for some distraction or other to end before we can really get down to our work.”

~ C.S.Lewis


~~~~~


In Defense of Distractions


I sit and I stare

Out the window

At the screen

Across the room 


I’m stiff and restless

The floor needs sweeping

I hear the mailman

The dishwasher needs emptying


I need to think

I know what I want to say

It’s time to feed the cat

Get up and rearrange


I look around me.

Shake my shoulders

I feel the chaos around me

Chaos of my own making


My legs want to move

My arms are tired from being still

I know what I want to say

But I need something besides my pen


Drifting through ordering

chaos into order - my mind quiets

disordered words surround me ~

returning to the page, I write.


“Art has to do with the arrest of attention in the midst of distraction.”

~ Saul Bellow