Blissful ignorance…

Selectively ignoring a situation, or someone, is an art. Simply stated, we certainly should not neglect our responsibilities and ignore the world around us but instead choose to develop the ability to differentiate between what is deserving of our attention and what is not. It’s definitely all about how we maintain our focus with an almost blissful ignorance and override things which are irrelevant or wrapped in negativity.

Once mastered, the ability to ignore definitely helps our mental state as it reduces one hell of a lot of stress by losing the burden of information overload, especially in the form of messages or news alerts. In short, it helps regain an element of control, a daunting task at times. Amazingly, pushing an”ignore” button opens space for new ideas to grow, helps our concentration and nurtures creativity.

By ignoring, we set boundaries and live more in the moment, learning to say “no” by recognizing that our time and attention are valuable resources. We can show genuine interest in others by being an active listener while never missing an opportunity to grasp every moment of silence, of solitude, and recharge for ourselves, remembering to keep one finger on that “ignore” button.

From the Writer’s Workshop…Write a post based on the word: ignore; Write a post in exactly 8 sentences. I chose to combine both.

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High flying…

“From out of the clear blue of the western sky comes Sky King!” This opening sound from my favorite television program aired each Sunday evening, so many moons ago. It was all about adventure and the setting for this popular children’s program was situated in the fictitious town of Grover, Arizona, with Schuyler “Sky” King, his niece Penny and her brother, Clipper. Sky King operated from his Flying Crown Ranch and both he and Penny were constantly involved in one adventure after another. Somewhere along the line, Clipper moved on to the United States Air Force, leaving Sky King and Penny to cope with the criminal element, spies and lost hikers in the “Songbird”, King’s twin-engined Cessna aircraft.

For the almost eight years this show ran, I so wanted to be just like Penny who would often fall into the hands of various bank robbers, a few spies and other questionable individuals. Many of the story lines for those growing up in the 50’s and 60’s found cast members in some type of near-death situation but rescue always came along, with just a few seconds to spare; this was always the storyline on “Sky King”.

Looking back, I find it interesting as to how these villains were usually depicted as reasonably intelligent and believable especially since their motivations instrumenting bad behavior carried a bit of logic as opposed to random evil, common in many action dramas of that time.

My weekly ritual of becoming “Penny” would surface every Sunday evening where I’d imagine myself living on the mystical Flying Crown Ranch, high-flying on the Songbird, guided by its twin engines mounted on wings and helping with all types of rescues and captures of criminals. For me, it was an escape of sorts, a respite, where I could be anyone else but me, for twenty-five minutes.

From the Writer’s Workshop: What TV character did you want to be as a kid? Why?

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My fickle friend, the summer wind…

It felt like a needle had pierced her foot. Cursing, she reached down to pluck a tiny seashell from between her toes. Fitting end to summer, she thought.

The soft breeze sweeping in from the ocean did little to soothe her attitude. She hated good-byes, not that there had been any ceremonious parting of the ways when he left. Not a note, text message, anything. Still, she hoped for one last word. Down deep inside, she knew any explanation would just be some manufactured attempt at the truth. More like an excuse.

Passing the lighthouse where they met, she scolded herself for not realizing that he was a player from the moment their paths first crossed. He was a smooth talker, knew all the right lines and how to cleverly push the right buttons on her emotions. Over the last few weeks she fell for his act, every step of the way.

She hit the music icon on her phone and broke into a run on the beach, sometimes stumbling in the sand. Her moves seemed almost desperate, as if she was trying to leave every painful memory of him behind. The warm wind gently touched her cheeks as she ran and, for a brief moment, her heart hurt less, until she heard Frank Sinatra’s voice in her earbuds. One line, my fickle friend, the summer wind, brought it all back like waves crashing on the sandy shore as the song came to an end.

From the Writer’s Workshop… Take a line from a song you like and use it as the title for your post, then let your ideas flow.
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