My daughter is binge watching Criminal Minds. The internal process that motivates criminal behaviour intrigues her. As a fan, I also gleaned lots of “aha” moments too.
One recent episode told the story of an Unsub, aka “Unknown Subject” for the non Criminal Minds fans, who derived pleasure from inflicting pain on others and savouring that pain. …
I had hoped to skip the gene but, oh no, I found myself telling the “when I was a kid” stories. No, I didn’t have to walk 6 miles to school barefoot, in a snowstorm and all the other stories the grownups rehash but I swear the stories get more embellished every time. Just saying.
I grew up on a small island. One of the many that formed a half sphere that lovingly rimmed the shimmering Caribbean Sea. Air travellers, fortunate enough to book a tropical vacation, were treated to the sight of jewel tone hues of teal greens, lagoon…
“Happiness is not a goal…it is a byproduct of a life well lived.” — Eleanor Roosevelt
It has been said, although I don’t remember by whom, that there is nothing new under the sun. From the wisdom of the ancient philosophers to modern day gurus, man has thirsted for insight that will give a little more meaning to his and life in general.
On a recent quest, I came across a list of quotes made famous by First Lady, Eleanor Roosevelt. …
Rejection is a tough pill to swallow no matter what form it shows up in. And it shows up a lot.
Recently, my name was removed from a publication I had contributed several articles to. I had liked writing for them. Ownership had changed and I guessed that my style no longer suited the direction that the publication was going.
The old me would have been mortally hurt. Insecurities would have flared as I questioned myself worth/talent as a person or writer. Bitterness would have ensued as I remunerated where I had gone wrong. Strategized on what I could do…
“Who you’re meant to be evolves from where you are right now. So learning to appreciate your lessons, mistakes, and setbacks as stepping-stones to the future is a clear sign you’re moving in the right direction.” — Oprah Winfrey
I am a fan of Oprah Winfrey. Not one to watch a lot of talk shows, I loved her down to earth, candid, nature. She spoke her mind and treated others with respect.
Recently, I was enjoying one of her older books, What I Know for Sure. In it, she openly regaled readers with the lessons that helped shaped her life…
“For sure we live in a youth-obsessed culture that is constantly trying to tell us that if we are not young and glowing and “hot,” we don’t matter. But I refuse to buy into such a distorted view of reality. And I would never lie about or deny my age. To do so is to contribute to a sickness pervading our society — the sickness of wanting to be what you’re not.” — Oprah Winfrey, What I Know for Sure.
She leaned over the sales counter and whispered to me, “Do you know how old I am?”
I was showing…
A kid was wailing in the mall. His hysterical screams assaulting any eardrums that were unlucky enough to be within earshot. As I tidied up the wall bay I was currently working at, I turned to my work colleague and sighed, “I am so glad that stage of my life is over. I don’t think I could do it again.”
Quizzically, she looked at me as I directed her attention to the unhappy child.
“Me, neither,” she agreed. “Especially, when parents bring their children into the store, then let them run around unsupervised.”
We could both recount many hell-spawn stories…
“They want to change Amen to A-woman.” My son nonchalantly told me the other day. I stared at him incredulously. He follows many different YouTubers and squirrels away information fragments that he finds interesting. His latest is the political climate in America and Canada.
“It’s not even a gender-based word.” I replied.
He agreed as he moved on to the next video.
I am all for equality. Race, gender, language, sexual orientation, political or other beliefs, nationality, social origin or class should not be the factors that decides the best candidate for the job.
I do oppose, however, using that…
As my daughter was getting ready for bed, she looked up and saw me smiling at her.
“Why are you smiling?” She asked.
“I’m just glad that you are my daughter.” I replied.
Blushing a little, she did not know how to respond to that.
In that moment, I knew I was happy. Specifically, motherly love. The love, pride and joy we feel towards the people nearest and dearest to our hearts. That warm, mushy contentment and gratitude that reminds us why it is good to be alive. …
Brain Injury survivor, blogger, writer and chocoholic. Sharing bits of wisdom to inspire change for good.