I’m finishing the last few chapters of my sequel Streaming James. I’m so excited! I took way too long to finish this novel.
I’m laughing as I finish the chapters. Not because they are funny. It’s a paranormal murder mystery, after all. I’m laughing because of the old joke, If found dead, delete my browsing history.
As a writer, I look up some crazy stuff. You’d think I’m a serial killer or suicidal. My protagonist can stream the dead after a failed suicide, so there was lots of research on depression and suicide. To finish the last chapters, I’m googling behaviors that can mitigate a murder sentence, the average sentence for murder, and what type of drugs can be slipped into a drink that causes hallucinations leading to murder. My husband would be very nervous, looking over my shoulder right about now.
Any thing on your browsing history you would want deleted?
I waited in the foyer for the wedding march to start.
“Friend of the groom or bride?” The usher asked as he held out his arm to walk me to my seat.
“Neither” I responded. I’m here for the father of the bride.” He looked confused but didn’t argue. I moved back to let him know I wouldn’t be taking a seat. He turned his attention to another guest.
His confusion was understandable, the bride’s father had passed away ten years ago. I guess in a way; I was here for the bride. My employee Harold was going to be a host body for her deceased father, Jeff Patterson, so he could attend his daughter’s wedding and walk her down the aisle. I thought back to my wedding and the picture of my mother holding space in the front of the church as a poor substitution for the woman that raised and loved me. Mom had passed when I was twelve. Her photo was the only way I could involve her in my wedding.
I glance at the calendar and remember that it is my one year anniversary. It is a good one. October 20, 2016, I joined the Second Chance club. I suffered a brain bleed and was hospitalized for eight days.
On my second or third day in the hospital, my doctor makes his morning rounds. “You are lucky to be alive,” he tells me as thoughts of I’d rather be dead than feel this level of pain race through my head. As if he can read my mind, he assures me the pain will go away. Thank God. I am relieved. I choose to believe him. I can expect this pain to go away.
I can relate to the daily prompt topic of release. It was one of my hardest lessons to learn. Not saying I’m a control freak (okay, maybe) but letting others step in and help changed my stress level immensely.
My dog Max and Cooper take turns being Alpha. Sometimes Max calls the shots and sometimes it is Cooper. When it switches, they seem to accept the new role with grace. So how does that translate as a lesson?
Working on my next chapter for Restlessness, Your Soul’s Cry for Change. I would love to hear your experience or thoughts on the impact of how changing your perception of an event, changes how you react or respond.
Can your perception of an event contribute to feeling unhappy? How easy is it to shift? For example, You think someone at work is out to get you or make you look bad or your boss doesn’t appreciate you and you feel miserable.
What if you shifted your thoughts? Jane isn’t out to get me, she is just being Jane. Is she coming from a place of fear? Does she think I’m going to take her job?
Have you noticed there are times when you have a heavy workload and tight deadlines that you feel charged by it? You hear people say things like “I work better under pressure.” Then there are times with the same workload and deadlines that you feel you are going to snap if one more thing is added to your plate. Why the difference? Could it be the perception of being valued or not? We have an innate need to feel appreciated and to know that our contributions matter. We will dive in and give a task everything we have if we believe we are making a difference. If we feel, we are part of a team. Looking outside of ourselves for that validation can leave us feeling slighted if we don’t speak up and express our needs.
Keeping the lines of communication is critical, but I find there is a second component to communicating. You have to be a good listener. I don’t have the greatest hearing and more times than not, I find myself asking someone to repeat themselves. Hearing is my problem child.