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Showing posts with label Feelings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Feelings. Show all posts

Saturday, February 21, 2026

Update to an Old Maxim

All the mistakes, missteps ~

fall on my face messes 

too often accompanied by 

swathes of guilt and shame. 


You made your bed, 

    you can lie in it. 


guilt and shame dragged, 

getting heavier, harder to 

push down year after year, 

something had to change .


You made your bed, 

    you can change the sheets.


Reminded of my change as I 

changed the sheets on my bed ~

clean and fresh as sleep settles softly.

Blackened feelings washed away.


“The present changes the past. Looking back 

you do not find what you left behind.”

~ Kiran Desai,  The Inheritance of Loss

Friday, November 7, 2025

How Should I Feel?!


Natural feelings of  

frustration or joy, 

  anger or excitement, 

   satisfaction or melancholy 

 and finally confusion.


We are often told 

how to feel,

  what to feel, 

    when to feel 

      how long to feel. 


Confusion reigns. 

When feelings bubble up 

   they are real, natural 

     asking for a tear or a smile

       a tantrum or a quiet frown 


Clearing that confusion is

  a hug for joy or for sadness, 

    screaming or crying in anger without breaking anything

      a long walk or a good belly laugh.

        Know there is no set time to feel


“Because it’s not a lie if it’s how you feel.”

~ Jennifer Niven,  All the Bright Places

        

How Should I Feel?


 

Natural feelings of  

frustration or joy, 

 anger or excitement, 

  satisfaction or melancholy 

 and finally confusion.


Often told 

how to feel,

  what to feel, 

    when to feel 

      how long to feel 


Only confusion reigns. 

When feelings bubble up 

    real, natural ~ 

     they ask for a tear or a smile

       a tantrum or a quiet frown 


Sorting out confusion means 

   a hug for joy or sadness, 

    let anger settle and cool 

     walk or laugh  

      know there is no set time to feel


“Because it’s not a lie if it’s how you feel.”

~ Jennifer Niven,  All the Bright Places

        

Sunday, February 27, 2022

A Sense of Place


There is a place living 

inside each of us 

without borders or street signs

only recognized by feelings

of possibility and home


There is a place living

inside each of us

without lines or rules

only recognized by feelings

of openness and slow walking


There is a place living

inside each us

to be embraced as

a place of belonging ~

the place where we choose to become.


“I believe home is where the heart can be open and loving 

with a sense of security. It must not be a place of fear.”

~ Author: Marilyn Barnicke Bellegeem,


*Inspired by the CBC Tapestry episode: Can you belong to a place you’ve never been before?

Interview with Pamela Petro by Mary Hynes

Episode aired February 25, 2022

Sunday, November 28, 2021

Standing Alone - From My Journal

My journal: Nov. 22 2016. Long before I retired, or moved, or the invasion of this virus. I was working on writing exercises that month, specifically Creating Settings. I rather liked the setting and story I created on that day. It also seemed to fit this November's Permission theme. Giving permission to ourselves to feel our feelings is important. This time of year, as the Christmas season ramps up, it is too easy to ignore our feelings in our rush to fix one more Christmas. In this time of Covid 19, far too many of us in cities, towns or country are alone. So here is my little piece:


Standing Alone


“The colour of the sea and the sky are one. Only the softness of the clouds is different from the choppy waves. All is greyness and damp. The ships flag hangs limply, wilted against the flag, too wet to be flapping in the brisk wind, wrapped around the pole trying to get out of the rain. Morning came early and in the dark wet there was little light. Only from inside the ship. Where stewards with urns of steaming coffee were posted just inside the portals. Stepping outside, not caring about the weather, I stood alone on the prow, away from the heat of the great body of passengers stirring inside the great town-ship. There is a space, a void in my heart that is as gray and dark as the morning. I know I can step inside to the warmth and camaraderie of the ship, but cling to my loneliness as one clings to a life raft. The captain says the rain will soon stop, but will my tears? I have left a life behind me that I can’t return to until I have released the pain from my heart to the elements. A pain never truly gone but no longer flooding my soul as the rains and the ocean flood all around me. There is a loneliness that heals.”


“Remember: the time you feel lonely is the time 

you most need to be by yourself. Life’s cruelest irony.”

~ Douglas Coupland, Shampoo Planet

Tuesday, August 31, 2021

To Know



I have felt small ~ 

but not insignificant


I have felt alone ~

but seldom lonely


I have felt deep melancholy ~
healing begins in the deep.


I have felt vulnerable ~

but recognize my strength.


I have felt afraid ~

but appreciate my fear.


I have felt all my feelings ~

and know that I am human.


“The emotion that can break your heart is 

sometimes the very one that heals it.”

~ Nicholas Sparks

Thursday, June 4, 2020

Chapter One, Episode 72 - Stumbling - Standing still Slowly Blog Post

Review, Edit and Update
This episode of Situationally Theirs, shows three women finding their own strengths. This author stumbled over several misspellings, typos and poor wording. All were repaired. There was also a mention of two other characters not been storied further in any episode that I can think of: 'the family accountant' and 'a cousin'. Neither have names or any other details.....I may have do to something about that.

Stumbling

The visit with the Beaufort Estate lawyer was unknown territory for all three women. The imposing building and dark echoing office didn’t help. Despite eased restrictions, there were still fewer people on the streets. Lineups outside banks, office buildings and grocery stores were still present. Six feet of separation maintained by painted or taped lines on sidewalks and down aisles. There were the same green lines spaced outside the building that housed the law offices, where there were also I.T offices, a local coffee shop, a small pharmacy and many medical and dental offices. Listings for each floor were to be found on an engraved legend beside elevators that ferried people to and from appointments.

Emelina, Dez and Brigitte had been questioned about travel and symptoms before being allowed into the building. Brigitte was pleased with Miss Emelina’s handling of the situation. The more she was with her in her role of personal assistant, the better able she was to see the transformation that had taken place. While Brigitte wouldn’t wish Covid19 on anyone, the effect of the social distancing and so called lockdown had pushed Emelina out of her comfort zone. Brigitte had never even met a lawyer in the past, let alone had an appointment with one. She didn’t see how she could help, but Miss Emelina had insisted that she and Dez accompany her. Once in the lawyer’s office, even before Mr. Donohue was there, Brigitte understood Miss Em’s desire for support. Even Brigitte, tall and confident, had felt like she was shrinking in that big and quite sterile feeling space. 

Miss Emelina took charge when the lawyer, Mr. Donohue, had been talking about the details of Michael Beaufort’s will. “Please, Mr. Donohue, speak English rather than all the long winded legal explanations.” Once she got past that initial hurtle, her Charity board room experiences had taken over and allowed her to be more assertive. 

“Well then, Mrs Beaufort.............” Emelina didn’t remind him that she had asked him to call her Emelina, her given name. After she had spoken to him for only a few minutes, she much preferred the use of formal names. It had the effect of levelling the playing field, a playing field that belonged to him. 

Mr. Donahue repeated "Well then, Mrs. Beaufort,"....and continued "this meeting will be much shorter than I anticipated. The will in question, prepared by me and signed by your husband, Mr. Michael Beaufort, states, in short form, that he bequeaths all monies and properties to you. He stipulates that, as sole owner,  you are to continue with working with the family accountant for at least one year. After that you may change that agreement. He also stipulates that should you want to make any changes or additions to the estate, that said accountant be involved in any financial dealings. There were some minor monetary gifts to a cousin, but that was taken care of as soon as the will was probated. Is that sufficient information?”

“For the most part, but can his will be challenged by anyone? You mentioned a cousin? I'm certain you know if a challenge is possible and if there have been any challenges to the will. Can you confirm that with me, please?

Mr. Donahue spoke patiently as if speaking to a child. “No, Mrs. Beaufort, there have been no challenges and at any time, any will can be challenged.” 

“I think you’ve answered all our questions for now, Mr. Donahue. Thank you for providing us with a copy of the will. I will speak to Digby about the location and security of the original will.” Miss Emelina asked both Dez and Brigitte if they had any questions, more to assure Mr. Donohue that she had back up than to find out about questions. When they did not, Miss Emelina ended the conversation by standing up and pushing back her chair. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Donohue. Please make certain to bill the estate appropriately.” She was curious about his hourly rate, but chose not to ask. She would find out either from Digby or the accountant. It was after this relatively short meeting that they went to the park where Emelina could let go of all the tension she had built up.

“So, Dez I know what you thought of Mr. Donohue and I must say I agree with you. His firm may have been the lawyers for the family for many years, and very likely good ones, however I felt like I'd been called into the principle's office. And we were the ones to ask for the meeting! Brigitte, what are your thoughts?”

“Honestly? Did you see the suit he was wearing? Casual grey slacks, open necked white shirt - they had to have been silk. His shoes were amazing - deep copper brown Italian leather loafers - and no socks..... What?”

“You’re giving me an opinion about his wardrobe? What are your thoughts about the meeting?” Emelina and Dez were both laughing.

“Well, obviously he has made a lot of money ~ his clothes, his office and in that building! I guess I’m trying to say that he seemed pretty slick. I don’t even know any lawyers. I did feel like he thought he was doing us a favour. Good for you for the comment about billing. I’m pretty sure he would anyway, but you basically gave him permission. It was not the most comfortable meeting I’ve ever been in but, you handled it really well. If there are any future meetings, it'll probably get better. We just have to get to know each other.”

"You're absolutely right, Brigitte." Emelina suddenly turned to Dez. “Dez, do you remember when Grandpa Eliot died and Grandma was left in control of their tiny ‘estate’. Grandma didn’t even know how to write a cheque. Grandpa had always paid the bills, gave Grandma an allowance, and took care of any other financial thing. Do you remember what Grandma said?”

“Wow.That takes me back. Let’s see. It was something like ‘I can fall apart and you’d lock me up in a looney bin or I can learn how to do all these things that your grandpa did for all those years.’ And she did. How’s that Emmie?”

“Word perfect - we heard that more than once. She learned about bank accounts and how to manage the small pension she had. She was pretty amazing.” Dez and Emmie both got quiet, remembering their Grandma Eliot. Their eyes sparkled with tears. Not being able to share in those sweet memories, Brigitte was getting a bit uncomfortable, She broke the silence with a question. “So what is our next move?”

Emelina dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “Oh, yes. The accountant. I’ll talk with Digby tonight before he leaves and get the contact information from him. I do hope he’s bit less intimidating than Mr. Donohue.”

“Don’t you want us with you when you talk with Digby? If not, I need to get home. I work for a couple of hours tonight for Mr. Jorgensson.”

“No, I’ll speak with him on my own. If the three of us descend on him it may really make him nervous. I hope I can be more sensitive with him this time. Brigitte, what are you up to tonight?”

“Netflix, popcorn and Harold.”

“Harold? Brigitte, what haven’t you told us?”

“Harold is my cat. He’s a Persian Blue. We always watch Netflix together. He has a tuna treat and I have popcorn.”

The three women parted company. Dez walked the six blocks home in the waning afternoon. Brigitte took the bus home. Emelina drove to the Estate and her plans to speak with Digby. After talking it all over with Brigitte and Dez, she felt satisfied.

“Was it you or I who stumbled first? It does not matter. The one of us 
who finds the strength to get up first, must help the other.”
~ Vera Nazarian

Thursday, August 22, 2019

Silent Senses

Standing silently outside
I saw

Bees floating 
Flower to flower

Standing silently outside
I felt

Warm sun bare arms
Cool breeze ruffling my hair

Standing silently outside
I tasted

Slender beans
Tucked in leafy shadows

Standing silently outside
I heard

Gulls crying
From the rooftops

Standing silently outside
I smelled

Tall grasses drying
In the lengthening summer air.

Standing silently outside
My heart softened and grew strong.

“…and then I have nature and art and poetry, 
and if that is not enough, what is enough?”
~ Vincent Willem van Gogh