My New Year’s Resolution!

Taken from my column in the Albert Lea Tribune on December 28, 2015

I always dread my New Year’s column. Every year I state, “I don’t make New Year’s resolutions.” And usually I don’t because I always break them, but this year I am going to make a New Year’s resolution. It may seem as if it is a strange resolution, but events over the past week have finally pushed me to the point where I can’t ignore something that is bothering me any longer. I make the resolution to speak out and not bite my tongue when an incident makes me feel uncomfortable.

You may find it strange a columnist, author and mostly mouthy person doesn’t speak up and out about something, but I never want to offend anyone. When I do, I dither about it for days, and I feel bad I would be the cause of hurting someone or making them feel less then. I know that has not always been the case, I am human, and when I am fearful or feel wronged I have struck out in anger and fear. I try not to behave erratically anymore, so, in many instances, I bite my tongue, keep silent and don’t express the feelings I experience when I feel bullied or offended. This year when I feel those things I will speak out, but not in anger or in fear, but hopefully with tact so we can have a sensible dialogue without tramping on anyone’s rights.

Everywhere we turn we hear the loud cries of those who are offended about something, some very significant real offenses and others minute and silly in the scheme of the world.

I am offended by behaviors I have encountered in my life recently, and I kept quiet because I didn’t want to offend those that offended me. Does that make sense to you? This year I  make the resolution I will never use bad language on social media or tear apart, or attack someone verbally because they have different beliefs than I do, or I will never bully or be crass about another’s political beliefs on my social media or in person. It should come as no surprise that I am uncomfortable with off-color language, after all I write cozy mysteries. Yet,  I have been known in private to occasionally use a bad word or two when I am upset, though I am not at all happy about myself when I do that. And I do express my political beliefs but I hope not at the expense of others beliefs.

Four things happened in one day, pushing me over the edge and triggering my resolution. I have hundreds of social media friends both on my personal page and on my author page. Out of those hundreds of friends I can count on one hand the ones that upset me with foul language and a bullying attitude about politics and acceptance.

The first thing greeting me one morning as I checked social media was a post degrading a certain political party and their views. Along with the comment was a brutal comment targeting refugees, and it included an article about that very subject. It felt like a verbal assault against what I believe. And I felt the disrespect for anyone’s viewpoint that differed from this person. For the first time I hid that particular post for the person.

The second thing  I saw on my Facebook that morning was a post by someone, tagging a relative so they would see the post. The picture and message was crass along with  four letter words blasted across the side of a cup. I have never hid a post by this person but I did it that morning.

The third encounter making me shake my head happened outside a bathroom in a shopping mall. A teenage boy, probably around 16 or 17, was waiting for what looked like to be his girlfriend and her friend. They got their signals crossed. When the girls found him he released a few four letter words. The kicker is the girls didn’t blink an eye at the foul language of the young man.  I am still of the premise that young women deserve respect and do not deserve to be talked to with disrespectful language, but because it is so common these days they accept it as the norm. Does it bother them and they keep it inside, or do they really not care?

The fourth occurrence again happened on social media later that day. One of my Facebook friends posted a sign with the big four letter word content saying that it is their right to use that language and if someone didn’t like it then — well — they said in no uncertain terms what we could do. For the third time that day and the third time in my Facebook time, I hid a post.

Three of these people do not behave this way in their place of work. What makes putting it out there to me any different than the work situation?

Now you might tell me to unfriend these people. I don’t want to, I actually like them and enjoy many of the things they post and I like the conversations I have with them on the street and in public. But I will from now on hide the posts that make me uncomfortable.

It is these people’s right to free speech. But it is my right to say respectfully, “What you are saying bothers me.” Here is what I have to say to the bullying political rhetoric, “You might have some very valid points, but when you post what you do spewing hate, I feel  bashed and disrespected because my viewpoint differs from yours. I turn off what you are saying and what you are protesting. Please present it in a way where I can listen and we can have respectful dialogue. You might win me over to your way of thinking. When I feel bullied and threatened I shut down my brain to any change you might be trying to make.

As far as the language, I respect your right to talk any way you choose, but please respect my feelings on the matter. You can use any language you want to those who don’t care and in places where it is accepted and with people it doesn’t bother. I am not trying to stop you from being you; I just need to speak up and say it bothers me. So let’s respect each other’s space. I have grandchildren and family who read my page, and I don’t want them to question what I teach them.

And for the people in the mall, my message to young women is to ask yourselves what makes you feel valued and and respected and stand up for it.

We all make different resolutions. We all have different lifestyles and beliefs. I respect that, and my resolution is to respect your space too. So please, if you see yourself in this column, don’t cross me off your list of friends, and if you don’t want to be mindful of how I am feeling about your posts, I guess it is OK because I can always hide it. But my resolution is to think twice before I talk to someone or show disrespect in a post. If I break that resolution, you can hide my post, too, or we can have a dialogue respecting each other’s opinions.

 

“In tragedy, it’s hard to find a good resolution, it’s not black and white; it’s a fog of gray.

— Paul Dano

What’s In An Old Year?

breatheI wonder how many people view New Year’s Eve Day as a day of reflection. As I look out onto my yard and the beautiful glistening snow I am reminded of the seasons that have passed this year.

For me it has been a year of successes, failures, fun times with family and sad mourning times with family and friends. It has been a year of life because as much as we would like to dream the New Year is going to be free of any anguish it isn’t going to happen, because life is filled with hills and valleys every single year. Some years may be better than others but those years, and hills and valleys make us who we are.

There are always moments in life we know we can do better. There are moments in life we hold on to so tight it keeps us from moving forward in our lives. The trick is to recognize the moments we need to leave behind and the moments we need to carry with us into the future.

Looking back on my life there are many times I have failed as a mother, as a wife, as a financial planner of my finances, in my writing and as a friend. When I feel the despair of depression, those are the moments I cling to and they keep me in the past. They keep me from moving forward. They keep me from accepting who God has created me to be and I stagnate.

I don’t believe we were meant to live our lives feeling like a failure, but the outside voices beat us down and we hear the negative rather than the positive. We don’t see our successes or the positive moments and people who help shape our lives.

This may seem like a strange New Year’s column but I write from the heart. Today is a day of reflection for me, looking back, seeing what I want to change, what I want to hold on to, and what I need to do to go forward to be the best me I can be. And  that is what I wish for you, my readers.

This isn’t a resolution but a way to began the new year. I love to write. I love dreaming of weird impractical characters and I will keep doing it. I must admit this year I have felt the respect slip from being a computer technician to beciming a writer and especially a writer of silly tales. I feel the respect of my readers and those that love Cozy Mysteries and the impractical, but I felt the ridicule of those that do not understand spinning a tale of silliness in the real world. This coming year I choose to spin more silly tales and let the voices of those who believe I am nothing but a fluff bucket, and my opinions do not matter because of it, go and not stop me from doing what I love.

I choose to speak out against disrespect in all areas, on the Internet, on my Social Media and in real life but I also choose to answer the disrespect with respect.

Having a creative soul leads me to explore many creative avenues and this year I choose to explore them and not let those that think I should stick to one thing stop me. My soul has to soar. I can’t be burdened with structure and lines and people that box me in.

And I vow to get out of debt. Yes, writers can have debt. I don’t know how, but I will have faith in myself to believe I can do it.

I am grateful for my life this year. I am grateful for my family and friends and for my readers. I am grateful for life, and light and hope. I am grateful for my failures, my successes, my moments of holding on and my moments of letting go. God created each of us different and I will listen to the voice inside of me telling me how to use my creative talents. I hope all of you will do the same. Our lives are complicated. They are a mixture of feelings that make us, us. My hope for me and you is to accept yourself as you are, celebrate your uniqueness, let go of those moments you need to so you can go into 2016, growing, caring, loving and yes failing, for it is in failure we find out who we are and what strengths we have to carry us into our future.

Happy New Year. Celebrate you.

 

 

It’s A Blooming Christmas!

SOMETHING ABOUT NOTHING COLUMN Week of December 21, 2015growth

My Christmas cactus is blooming. It always amazes me in the cycle of life that a plant knows when to bloom every year.

My Christmas cactus has a history. It was part of my life for as long as I can remember, first at my Grandma Krock’s and then at my mother’s home. This cactus has lived longer than my years.

My mother put the cactus outside in the summer so it could enjoy the warmth of the sun and the summer days. When fall arrived the cactus was put in the dark basement and brought upstairs in November. Every year the cactus with its pink blooms sat beside the Christmas tree at my grandmother’s and then my mother’s home.

In my mother’s later years, instead of a Christmas tree, the large cactus was used as her tree and she would adorn it with small bows, bringing more of the season to the cactus, already beautiful blooming blossoms. The living cactus was an important part of her life.

My mom had a green thumb. I have a brown thumb. When my mom entered the nursing home it was February. I forgot about the cactus in her basement for many, many months. I ignored the living plant in her home. A living entity needs love and care to survive and this cactus, after months of neglect, showed its will to live. When I found it, a few leaves were struggling to survive.

I mourned that I had let die something that obviously represented life in our family and had meaning to my mother. It wasn’t just a Christmas cactus, but always a part of my mother’s life from the time she was small. It was rooted in our tradition and it seemed that with my mother’s life failing, I was losing the tradition or our Christmas cactus along with my mother. The Christmas cactus held tradition and memories.

As much as many of us fight to live, my mom’s Christmas cactus did too. In spite of my brown thumb, the Christmas cactus again started to grow leaves after my mother died. The beautiful cactus decided to bloom once again at Christmas time. I give it no special treatment except to smile at it each day. It doesn’t see the dark basement and it doesn’t change its spot on the windowsill, yet it lives, blooms and blossoms. I have to believe my mother is tending it from above.

For me, as I view my beautiful old Christmas cactus this season, I feel hope. Once again it has grown big and strong and has weathered the storms of neglect. I feel the glowing memories in my heart of the many years of family Christmases, of my youth, of what seems like simpler times and my heart stirs with love at the memories. Its beauty, a reminder that there is always new growth in life if we nurture and care for the gifts of life seen and unseen that we have been given. Out of struggle for survival, comes growth.

My wish for you this Christmas is peace and love in the simple things of the season and in the recesses of your hearts. My wish for you is a glimmer of hope and new growth through your struggles throughout the year. May you bloom where you are planted, watered often with encouragement and love, and may your roots be strong to survive the dry, desert moments of your life. May you blossom and bloom this Christmas season.

Merry Christmas!