Weekend Coffee Share, Somewhere Else

Welcome to my Weekend Coffee Share,  hosted by Allison at Eclectic Ali. It has been a nice little getaway weekend. Our first quarter at work has been completed and I have earned some R and R!

My boyfriend and I headed to Savannah, Georgia for sightseeing, good food, and a change of scenery. I loved the street musicians but was amazed that so many tourists there were mask free. Still, the people watching was fun.

I relaxed and enjoyed some time with Kenny. Today, I felt much less stressed at work, so the getaway must have worked!

On the writing front, the audiobook for Malachi, Ruse Master is still in progress. I have edited and published on Medium an article about faith and struggle. You may view it here: https://medium.com/@pamschloessercanepa/of-faith-and-the-eternal-struggle-f626c18f0a93

After returning Saturday afternoon, I didn’t do much. Sunday, I had brunch with a good friend who is a fellow writer along with my son and my mom. It was relaxing and enjoyable, with everything followed my a massage I so needed after being sick about ten days ago. I am recharged now! This is going to be a great week!

Of Faith and the Eternal Struggle

There’s no shame in the struggle. It means you haven’t given up. Please visit my post at:

<a href=”https://medium.com/@pamschloessercanepa/of-faith-and-the-eternal-struggle-f626c18f0a93″>https://medium.com/@pamschloessercanepa/of-faith-and-the-eternal-struggle-f626c18f0a93</a>

#WeekendCoffeeShare Stream of consciousness. While I wait…

Welcome to my Weekend Coffee Share, hosted by Allison at Eclectic Ali. It’s been quite a week. All is good now. Want to know? What’s it like to live a day in the life of someone awaiting a COVID test?

I know you want to know…just like that girl who asked me to describe what it’s like giving birth after I’d had my son. I summed it up…”It’s like the worst cramps you could ever imagine. ” She looked letdown. I did not communicate the drama, the fear, the excitement and the feeling that God is in that room and that I was a chosen one, to bear this pain and deliver this life. But I digress.

It should take 24 hours to get my test results…I hope. So I’m out of work today and will be again tomorrow. I think the moment by moment is agonizing.  My symptoms seem like that of having a cold, my glands are swollen and that’s what troubled me. Children have been sick at school and leaving early. Today, the soup I ate for lunch is sitting wrong with my stomach. I’m just going to be raw and honest here. We should all do that more.

I heard someone somewhere use the phrase that when they write it’s like God is guiding them. Are they seeing that bearded man in the sky reach down his hand to guide the pen? I’m not.

Yes, there certainly is a muse. She is a younger, but wiser me who would have spoken up for herself many times when I didn’t. She pops things into my head, and I become amused, inspired, thinking, “Yeah, I should do something with that thought.” If I’d heeded her sooner I would have traveled much more, written long before I did, and done more exciting things.

I don’t think there’s an angel guiding me, and when I write, it is not holy. I write to escape demons. Or, more specifically, to purge them. I imagine a kaleidoscope of vomit spewing forth from my mouth or through my pen and onto the paper. They are not horrible things that I did, but they are things that always make me feel I am less, they are things that some would, or would have once, defined me as. Trailer trash. Product of divorce. Daughter of an alcoholic. Navy brat. Divorcee. People make assumptions about these things. I could perfectly fix my hair and makeup and look like I had all the privilege I could besides that of race. I could dress like a professional working woman and mother and no one would know the crap I’d put up with from my husband at home. It was eating me up.

You’ve gotta spit up those demons somehow or they will give you an ulcer or some other GI disorder. They’ll eat at you and travel to your nerve endings causing serious sensitivity and pain issues. So, this is why I don’t think my writing is ‘touched by an angel.’ It is human, it is real, it is of this earth. Though everything I write has a message for someone, that you are not alone, it is not going to convert anyone and I suppose it won’t get me into heaven. But that’s not the point, is it? The point is to make something beautiful out of the tough lessons we’ve learned or the crap we’ve been given.

And I probably don’t sound like a good Christian, but I’m going to thank God he gave me this ability. It has helped me to dream and imagine myself into better realities. It has helped me survive.

***Thank you for stopping by and reading. I have a few constant encouragers, and I thank you so much for this. My test was negative, and my allergies were the cause. I felt so much better yesterday. Covid anxiety is serious. Today being World Mental Health day, let’s all be kind to each other!

Covid 2020. Stifled. #poetry

Covid anxiety has me feeling stuck, tied down,

Oppressed…

A hot flash brings it on,

Allergy sniffles bring it

Stuck in a mask, afraid to go out…

It has me pinned by the arms. Stilted breathing, muffled voice

But I will summon my nerve and beat it, one day.

I will stare it in the face, lash out like a cornered animal,

And defiantly,

Spit in its eye.

Weekend Coffee Share. I know, we haven’t talked….

Welcome to my Weekend Coffee Share, hosted by Allison at Eclectic Ali on wordpress. So, it has been a week. What a week. Please forgive if I am not very focused today. Here’s why:

A middle-aged woman keeps anxiety at bay

Usually. She reduces coffee intake, but not today…

She brings her work home all the time

But lets the air out on Friday night

For a date with the couch, and her feet up

A dog at her feet or closer for a belly rub.

Time for a date tomorrow night

I’ve got to relate to someone, am I right?

Tonight, a glass on the table, Netflix a little loud

Something ridiculously funny, like the IT Crowd.

Thoughts on the back burner, wondering

How her job took over. Pondering

How do I take control of this?

This is my life. There is so much more

that I want to do.

And will I have to tell the children

“The problem is not at all you?”

So I struggle for free time

To survive and keep my mind at peace.

Yet, new requirements, mandates,

Take the time away from me.

Let’s not mention health, which is a hobby and a job.

Or serenity and fun, they seem to have been robbed.

Don’t worry, I’m going to get it back.

Somehow, I will get these cards stacked.

Signed,

I want to focus on the things that make me enthusiastic again.

A teacher in 2020. But also, a middle-aged woman. A mom, a daughter, someone’s friend, an arthritic woman, a writer, a fitness-minded individual, an anxiety sufferer, a survivor, a fighter, one who loves to dance but never does these days, a dog-lover.

Weekend Coffee Share, Challenge

Don’t hide from the storm. Revel in its power and beauty.

Here’s my Weekend Coffee Share.  Take it or leave it. Digest it or leave it on the table. Yeah, I suppose I sound a little antisocial today. I’m having work and COVID fear- burnout this weekend and don’t feel up to doing much. I’m working on avoiding overwhelm/stress/anxiety. I’m reading about the brain and pain/anxiety.  I was kind of achy when I woke this morning.

The 4 a.m. restroom wakeup had me tossing and turning to get back to sleep while an 80s Pixies song danced in my head. (My frequent wakeup song on the way to work). 🙂

Nonetheless,  it is a coffee day…because there is always something to do. While I don’t have flu or any other illness,  I will be doing. Right now the coffee has my brain juices going, working to get over the fatigue and body aches I feel. I’ve read a lot on this, and I’m a firm believer in tension-myositis. So, here is what I’ve learned from my recent readings in poetic form:

Don’t ignore the ugliest parts of yourself

Stare them down and challenge them

Know them, don’t deny them.

“Try it, I dare you.” Don’t back down, nothing can stop you

Headache, heartburn, pain, fear or fatigue…don’t let them rule

While you’re quaking in your boots, face the giant

You’ve faced it before, and it truly is not bigger than you.

You’re older now, facing many changes

They cannot control you, for you are not only a sum of difficult times

You are every good thing that has happened to you

You are every victorious moment of triumph in adversity

Never forget that when facing the storm.

It never was bigger than you.    

(C) Pamela Schloesser Canepa, 2020

#WeekendCoffeeShare. Let’s Not Talk About Work!

Welcome to my Weekend Coffee Share, hosted by Allison at Eclectic Ali. I’ve had three non-coffee days this week. I can’t believe I survived! I substituted matcha green tea for coffee. My worst day this week was a coffee day, not because of the coffee, it’s just that having had coffee did not solve the issues.  Seriously, I love my daily coffee, but I already have enough tension in my body and my brain. To reduce this, I am trying to reduce the coffee. 

2018
2020

Lately,  I’ve been working on my peace of mind and staying active and healthy goals. This Spring and Summer were all about that. Exercise is great for me, but my job is taking over. I’m going to manage it. It will not take over a healthy me! So, let’s not talk about work.

I look at myself from two years ago and see the difference.  I suffered with my shoulder issue this summer but got past it! I look more confident.  Emotionally,  I’m doing better because I have tackled some problems that were failing me. I also recall that the 2018 picture was in Rhode Island.

My son and I stayed in RI to visit my dad, a self-described bull in a china shop, a thirty year recovered alcoholic , and a very admirably active senior.  He kept us very busy, and we’d walk for miles touring his town (Middleton), which was lovely.

But we won’t forget his bull-in-a-China shop attitude. He took us sailing with a buddy, out to the choppy sea where we both almost hurled or passed out. Growing up a people pleaser due to my dad’s alcoholic anger and the sexist things he would often say, I kept the peace. But that does not keep peace inside me, and it doesn’t sit well with me now. He certainly does not talk to people like he used to. Still, I learned something from this rough sailing and my non -reaction; this sort of thing shaped me as a child.  Now that I have processed it, I’m going to change it.

Reykjavik, age 4.

Don’t ask my mom about the time in Iceland when I was four, and Dad took us mudding in his Landrover, heading for a rumored bottomless pit.

“It’s just a rumor,” he said, or something like that.

“We’re getting out of here!” Mom took me out of the truck and we went to dry land. She never told me the rest, but this experience also shaped me. I was not safe in the hands of someone I should be able to trust.

Thus goes the journey I’ve undertaken in this last year dealing with the results of distrust and feeling so out of control of my life. I’ve been so good at sweeping traumatic, stressful family events of the last 6 years under the rug, that it all blended with past experiences to make a green soup of indigestion, pain, stress, tension, insomnia, etc. I’ve found some helpful online groups for venting. I use a meditation and pain app. Does it all work? I am still at the start, learning to be mindful of my brain’s usual reactions.

In other, lighter news, I had an appointment with the orthopedic doc about my shoulder.  He says I’m almost at 100% healed of the frozen shoulder based on my mobility, and I don’t need to place limits on myself! It’s not time to get lax, though. I have to monitor any aches but not let them stop my living. I will stay diligent and keep up the exercises; I also have other health goals to meet or maintain. I can do this!  I am feeling good overall and staying active.

I hope you all have a great week and progress toward any goals you may have!

Yada, yada, yada #RDP #amwriting

Monday. I’ve got this!

I woke up and ate breakfast.

Not once did I worry.

Even though I started to get ready, yada, yada, yada, I took my time.

Ever since I got to work, yada, yada, yada.

Dropping papers, yada, yada, yada…

This too shall pass.

Other than that, Monday is passing.

Right now, I’m cheerful

Even though it’s Monday.

Look, we can do this,

Alright?

X Marks the spot. Sign in. Yada, yada, yada.

**Posted in response to the Seinfeld-ish word prompt found at https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2020/09/14/rdp-monday-yada-yada-yada/

(This was fun)!

Mind Body Mantra

(C) Pamela Schloesser Canepa

My body is a temple.

It is a source of joy,

Just as a source of pain.

My body is to never be a source of shame.

The tension within is divine

It is a path to joy, as well a warning sign.

The tension only clears

If I can cross that line.

Is it safe to let down my guard?

Will my brain give me that regard?

Will automatic systems yield…

Can past assumptions drop their shield?

I choose harmony between the two

Once achieved, there is much more I can do.

But to achieve it, there is still much I must go through.

****Certain parts of this mantra are more positive while I feel others hit the reality head-on. I plan to focus on the positive portions when needed and return to all other stanzas to honor and respect what I may feel.in any given moment.

Beach Meditation

No words to scream today,

But I am writing again, I have thoughts

As I meditate with each step, each noticing is my prayer of thanks:

For soreness in my legs, for water that reaches for my toes, for foamy surf that comes and goes

For soft sand caressing each step of my feet

A low radio playing a happy beat

For waves that invite and dare, crashing down every which way

And the slight trickle of sweat down my back as I turn when it’s time to walk away.