Retrospect

documenting life, creating art.


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Life Is What You Make It.

Sorry for having been gone so long.

Let’s be honest here. Life has thrown me some pretty powerful blows. And, depression runs in my family. No, this is not an excuse, just a statement of fact. I have used this as an excuse, which has been selfish on my part. Ok. Let’s be done with that, and go on to tomorrow and the next day and the day after and so on.

[A song from Talk Talk, a favorite group]

Baby
Life’s what you make it – can’t escape it.
Baby
Yesterday’s favourite – don’t you hate it?
Ev’rything’s alright – live’s what you make it -
Ev’rything’s alright.Baby
Life’s what you make it – don’t backdate it.
Baby
Don’t try to shake it - beauty is naked.
Ev’rything’s alright – live’s what you make it -
Ev’rything’s alright – what you make it.Baby
Life’s what you make it – celebrate itAnticipate it – yesterday’s faded.
Nothing can change it – life’s what you make it.
Ev’rything’s alright – life’s what you make it.
Ev’rything’s alright – life’s what you make it.
Ev’rything’s alright – ev’rything’s alright.

More lyrics: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/t/talk_talk/

I have learned, lately, that when life (as I think it should be ) doesn’t hold up to my expectations, I need to re-think those expectations. Where on earth do these expectations come from, anyway?  Who am I to even have any expectations, anyway? I have no control over anything except myself. I am who I am, and I am learning (I am a very slow learner, by the way)what I can and can’t do. I shouldn’t have expectations, life is what I make it.

As I keep in my mind quite often:

                               ”God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

                               Courage to change the things I can, and the

                               Wisdom to know the difference.”

                                  

Lately, when things were dark and terrible for me, I also think often of a prayer my grandmother pasted near her old 1950′s (?)  telephone in the kitchen of her Ivanhoe ranch house, the “Stepfoots In the Sand”. I didn’t understand that poem when I was a young girl, but her gentle explanation made it so clear to me. I miss my grandparents very much. It helps me a great deal. Knowing who I am, and what I could do, if given the chance, gives me hope.  I know in my heart that I can be more than I have settled for. I am capable of being a better person!

I think of my grandparents as my guardian angels watching over me, giving me a sense of “what will be, will be.” I have the courage to change what I can, and if I cannot, it’s not meant to be. I pray for the serenity to accept that. With my family and my work friends, I feel confident that I will.  And my guardian angels simply have a different path planned for me. At least I am trying! 

In the mean time, I have decided this (thank you, Mom!)

tumblr_m6aydhBOQ51qdjhwco1_1280So, from here, I am making more choices. I choose to live my life on my terms. I choose not to be a victim. I choose to help others. I choose to try, what it may, to go back to college and become a nurse. I know I could do it. I could be an awesome nurse, given a chance.

I also feel liberated, now that I have moved to a new apartment, to be me.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

There will be much more coming in the future. Just remember that “Life’s what you make it”! Make it great.

Thank you, as always, for being here.

Jennifer


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Serenity.

This is a good word for me this year, and that’s why I chose this to be my One Little Word in Ali Edwards’ Big Picture Class. Serenity is the perfect word for me because it is exactly what I need. I have decided that now is the time to do something in order to achieve a better balance in my life. More happiness and peace, less stress and anxiety. More exercising, less eating. More saving, less spending. Throw out what I don’t need, hold on to what’s important. I believe I can make things work better in my life if I have more inner calm and quietude: the serenity to just do and be the best me I can.

January's assignment for One Little Word.

GOD, grant me the serenity

to accept the things
I cannot change,
Courage to change the

things I can, and the
wisdom to know the difference.
Living ONE DAY AT A TIME;

Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardship as the
pathway to peace.
Taking, as He did, this

sinful world as it is,
not as I would have it.
Trusting that He will make

all things right if I
surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy

in this life, and supremely
happy with Him forever in
the next. Amen
Reinhold Neibuhr-1926

 

Thanks for stopping by!


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For the love of the language…

I love to read the classics. My latest book:
There’s something about the beautiful richness of the language that exists in classical literature that I love…”I know few things more affecting than that timorous debasement and self-humiliation of a woman.” It’s a lyrical dance between two characters; a poem for my senses. I love the historic timing; the drama, the humor, the sensitivity. Experiences are just so different today and sometimes books are an escape as well as a source of entertainment. The movie that runs through my mind always seems so much better than anything the Weinstein brothers come up with on DVD, too.
I have a little ritual I have when I start a new book. I take one of my many Scrapbooking tags, add a ribbon at the top, write the name of the book on it, and stamp the date I start reading. I then stamp the date of completion when I am finished. Strange, but true.

So tonight I am going to read some more, like I do every night, comfy and cozy in my pajamas, curled up on the couch, until Mr. Sandman pays me a visit and makes me go to bed. Happy tales!


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This girl is not girly…

I was looking at another blog today, and I noticed the description “girly girl”, and it got me thinking. When I was younger, I tried and tried to be a “girly girl”. It just never seemed to work for me. Wearing makeup always felt like I was wearing a halloween mask that would always smear, run, turn my skin into an oil slick, and come off on everything. Perhaps it was my choice in makeup supplies, or my skin, or both. I never knew, even after spending hundreds upon hundreds of dollars over several years trying to get it right. And, I would look like an alien from another planet that was trying too hard to look human. Sigh. I would get manicures and have my nails chip and break within hours. Sigh. I tried to color my hair only to have it turn red, dry and frizzy instead. Sigh. I bought one pair of high heels and wore them only once because they hurt so darn much, I was taller than everyone in the room, and I looked funny with my huge calves and white ankles. Sigh. I used to wear earrings, but after a day’s work, I would come home with red, swollen, painful earlobes, so I just gave up wearing them at all. Even the surgical steel ones that cost a fortune. Sigh. Then something happened: I had a baby at the age of 34, and the father left us. I had such a case of the “poor me’s” that I just gave up trying to improve my looks. That, and I was too darned tired to care. I just go to work with no makeup, no earrings, au naturale hair in a headband, and sneakers. Guess what happened next…a friend I knew told me he thought I was sexy and irresistable just like that. Huh? But-…… He likes a natural, down-to-earth girl. Clean face, soft hair he can put his hands through, bare ears and pain-free feet. It was love. I could be the real me with someone else I genuinely liked. How cool is that?! But don’t get me wrong…there is a part of me that adores the color pink. Sometimes HOT pink. And scrapbooking with butterflies, ribbon and bling. Bling on my cellphone case, bling on my namebadge. Delicate flowers anywhere and everywhere. Gloss on my lips, and sheen on my nails. Sometimes, a little blush, and on a special occasion, a hint of sparkle on my eyes. Not too much.  So, I suppose I have learned some things about myself as I’ve gotten older. I’m over 40 now, and I have discovered that less is more for me; subtlety reigns supreme and I can be comfortable in my own skin and still be attractive to the opposite sex. But- I still think that girly girls are cool.


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“Death Be Not Proud…”

card by Retrospect.

It’s not an easy subject to talk about. Some people simply cannot or will not do it at all. But it’s on my mind, so I will. Death. I have encountered it twice recently, and it felt strange. Strange, because I encounter it so often at my job (hospital), but for some reason, it is affecting me differently now. I don’t know why. The unknown 41-year-old was a sad case. Brain dead. Organ donor. I had to help in his care, and I couldn’t help but think strange thoughts to myself. Had he shaved carefully that morning? Did he eat a good breakfast? What happened? It sends a cold shiver down me. And the person my friends and I all knew of; that was quite a shock. Car accident. Dead on scene. Was someone waiting for him at home? What appointments did he have the next day? Again, what happened? 

Something inside has jolted me out of a complacency. That is a good thing, because when people die and it doesn’t have much of an effect, that bothers me. Have I been in healthcare too long? No, I love it, and it’s all I really know. I suppose someone knew that I needed to wake up and smell the coffee: life is precious, but life can also be short. Love it, live it, enjoy and appreciate it. Every minute.


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The Anal Texter

Yes, I now understand just how anal I can really be. There was a conversation at work today about our kids and testing. Most of us agreed that our kids had to teach us how text, and when talking about “codes”, a vacuum opened up for me, and then my mouth.
“It took me a long time to figure out ‘LOL’”, I said. “And I always have to tell my daughter not to write ‘cuz’ instead of ‘because’ for example. TTFN? K? C U? I don’t like when her grammar goes out the window.”
I stopped because I realized everyone was staring at me with their mouths wide open. And it hit me because I heard myself and knew I am an anal retard. shortcuts and codes are what make texting so quick and efficient when communicating. All this time I have been texting, I have been spending long periods of time checking my spelling, ensuring no grammatical errors, and correcting punctuation marks. What, am I writing a thesis? Apparently I thought so. Now I am thinking it probably shouldn’t take me 10 minutes to say, “Okay, thank you”. OMG!

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