Try, try, again…

I’m going out on a very shaky limb here. Then again, in this day and age, just the simple motion of exhaling can lead to a combative response from someone. “Trying to understand” is a phrase expressing an effort to comprehend something, whether it’s a concept, a situation, or a person’s perspective. It signifies a conscious attempt to grasp the meaning or nature of something, even if it’s not fully or immediately successful.

Sound like a reasonable viewpoint?

My sensibilities are often challenged by those who put their own spin on things and there are times when it’s downright maddening and I cannot understand why. When this takes place, I usually step back to observe and it’s generally in some way which favors the agenda of the person in question. That, in itself, often results in the misinterpretation and exaggeration of the subject at hand. Plus, there are those individuals who move to selectively highlight details in order to fortify their position on a topic. Many of us have more than likely witnessed this when the simple meaning of words become altered, worse yet, twisted. In the meantime, the emphasis is focused just on certain aspects of a given situation while ignoring others.

What often follows is the framing of an event in such a way that it makes it seem more positive or negative than it actually is, such as interpreting an event or situation in a way that aligns with another’s own beliefs or biases. Attention is drawn to certain aspects while minimizing or ignoring others and effectively changing the way a situation is perceived. Euphemisms come into play in order to make something sound less serious, or harsh, or engaging doublespeak to obscure the true meaning. Narratives are built around events or situations, shaping each to fit a desired outcome or to possibly persuade others.

Being human, we all have certain basic needs and one of most basic is the need to understand and be understood. That seldom gets much attention and it should. Without the ability to understand what others say or the meaning behind their words, we can miss important cues, lose out on opportunities, fail to see changes in the so that we can appropriately react and end up going off in a totally different directions. Worse, if we lack understanding, we are more prone to engaging in selfish acts rather than helping others.

As Dale Carnegie once stated, “Any fool can criticize, condemn, and complain but it takes character and self-control to be understanding and forgiving.” Very true. In the meantime, I’d really like to know, to understand, what the color 9 smells like.

From the Writer’s Workshop: What do you wish you understood better? Why?

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Mementos in the attic…

Let’s be very honest here. We all have clutter. Don’t lie. One of the biggest culprits, if not the biggest, is the barrage of sentimental items we keep holding onto.


How many of us have that one (just one?) closet in their home packed full of boxes, zippered storage bags full with photographs, childhood items and too many other items you have likely forgotten all about. The thought of parting with any of them, well, that rarely occurs because there is always some reason to keep hanging onto things. Our intentions are always to possibly to pass them down to family or a friend but meanwhile, there are just so many memories tucked away, our homes become storage facilities.


Personally, I cringe at the thought of my own Christmas ornaments and decorations, some of which have lived in their respective boxes for years without movement. Yet, I’ve kept them and the thought of parting with any of them breaks my heart but my reasoning is to pass along the best of what is inside the piles of boxes. Grandchildren who will soon have their own homes and will be thrilled to share in my favorite collection of “stuff”.

Of course they will, that’s what I keep telling myself.

We all attempt to hold onto our respective pasts with family and friends who have either died or left us items which represent closed chapters in our lives. I do recall most of my life up to this point and time as well as those people, those “ghosts” without all of the papers, photos and other paraphernalia which live in the boxes stored in my home. All have been saved to remember, yet, I was doing a fairly good job of doing that without all of them, or so I thought. Even today, I came across an object and said out loud to myself, “what the hell is this? when going through a particular box. As I continued to talk to myself, I thought about who saves crap like what I found.

Evidently, I did, at some point in the past.


Then, the emotions involved with letting so much go steps in and takes over until we realize that everything we’ve stored away has become a museum of our lives. We all can remember our past along with those we’ve lost and share that with our families without an endless collection of boxes stored everywhere.


Think about it.


None of us need all of these things and not having them does not make the day or the memory any less special or important. We will still remember those important in our lives, their memories are their stories along with their wisdom and advice. Simple steps in identifying which items are most important to yourself and your family helps you to realize that you do not have to discard any collection. Honor your memories and your mementos.


Use them and if not, pass them along to someone who will appreciate them. Donate your wedding dress to a charity that gives wedding gowns a second life by turning them into prom dresses for girls unable to afford them. Repurpose the gadzillion T-shirts you have from everywhere and make a quilt. Take photographs of childhood toys and baby clothes you’ve saved. They don’t need to sit in the attic, let them be enjoyed now by a new generation.


Speaking of photographs, how many do you have on your phone? Yup, thought so. Scan them, put them on a flash drive or, in the cloud so that your past will be at your fingertips whenever you want to look at it. Good, bad or indifferent, all memories are in our hearts, not under the bed, in closets or in the attic. Letting go is freeing, useful and sentimental. We shouldn’t store things away because we’ve had them forever or, they were a gift. Don’t try to justify that you “might” need or want it someday. Trust me, that day never comes. As far as something possibly holding some significant value, sell it now. If it’s not really worth anything, forget the “maybes” and let it go.

By all means, keep those mementos but let go of the sentimental clutter.
Honor your past without cluttering your present. Find your balance!

From the Writer’s Workshop: Tell us the story of your favorite memento. I went off on a bit of a tangent here, mainly because it’s Spring and my favorite time for purging. Mementos are everywhere in my home. But, I cheated with my response and failed to ramble on about one of my favorite mementos because I felt most people would find it absolutely boring or not have any idea what it is. For what it’s worth, here it is. Don’t judge me…

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Where I’m From

I am from travels across long and winding roads,  with musty clothes packed inside a tattered suitcase.

     From the lonely U.S. Navy sailor on shore leave and the USO singer looking to escape, I am the aftermath.

I am from Huguenot, number 327, with long dark halls where fear hid behind each door.

I am from constant disagreements and hurt from Strollo, artistic talents from Havens and depression…from Smith.

I am the sarcastic one of Lloyd Chester and ever-critical like Mary Patricia but not as hateful as Mary Agnes; I have Marjorie’s fleeting elegance but not her voice although I have Lee’s fingers guiding mine as I write while, sadly, I lack the music from his soul.

I am from kneeling in Catholic church until my knees were numb and my back ached from staying rigid.   From pain that was better than any punishment from the nuns who patrolled the aisle.

I’m from the poor shadows of decaying New Rochelle and the wealth of golden San Francisco.  Beef Stew and Pâté de Foie Gras.

                                                                                        

I am from Lilacs, briefly bursting with soft color and fragrance along with sand that washes into the ocean with every storm; I am from hindsight and wishing.  Always wishing.

I am from dreams of different beginnings; from gathering moments into boxes of forgotten memories labeled… Indifference,  Anger and Why? 

Mostly, I am an outsider, safely standing on the edges of my life, wondering.

From the Writer’s Workshop: Write a post based on the word genealogy./Write a post in exactly eleven (11) lines (sentences). 

I first wrote and shared this post way back in 2014 and there was nothing about it I wished to change for this current prompt response, nor did I want to write a new post.  My genealogy, its best and worst.

This reflects me; my beginnings and where I am at this point, still, in my life. 

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