SCARS – By Sarah Waters

via Letters to the Mind
Contributing Author: Sarah Waters

Scars | Letters of the Mind

“Be the change you wish to see in the world.” – Mahatma Ghandi

The wonderful photograph was taken by Maria Victoria Heredia Reyes and acquired throughUnsplash. It’s a great source for free photos under the Creative Commons Zero license, so check it out!

About the author:
I am a survivor of incest, teen pregnancy, emotional abuse and multiple family estrangements. It sent me to the edge of suicide but I stepped back and have been finding my way ever since. I have begun the healing process and now try to share with others in hopes of making sure no one feels alone in their pain.  In “Scars” I address emotional scars, self-doubt and internal struggles.

SCARS

What to make of scars,
so pitiful and weak.
Oh, physical scars,
how I envy you,
those of skin and bone.
You can be seen.
You scab over, heal,
pain ultimately subsides.
But oh, the scars of the heart,
they’re jagged, deep –
I’m amazed my heart still beats.
You’re hidden, unseen,
with pain that never quite
goes away.
Emotional scars,
oh how you lie,
pretending to be healed
while cruelly laughing,
waiting to rip open,
to make me doubt the progress
I have made.
You shout, “Look at me!
Remember me?”
Yes, I remember you well.
You remind me where I’ve been.
You helped make me who I am.
But you don’t own me anymore –
your time is past.
You are only a scar, not
my innermost being.

Blog: Breaking Sarah – Bruised Not Broken

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☀ Memee

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Submitted to Letters to the Mind by Sarah Waters Jan 2016
Original Poem: Scars © Sarah Waters – Breaking Sarah – Bruised, Not Broken 2016-2018. All rights reserved.
Scars by Sarah Waters post © Memee’s Musings, 2016-2018. All rights reserved.

Growing into Political Awareness

Growing Into Political Awareness | Memee's Musings
Photo courtesy of Madi Robson

This beautiful piece of writing is by Demetra Szatkowski. This is a coming-of-age story about politics, belief systems, and being female. Everything except for the title above and the photograph is credited to her. She posted this on Facebook and said we could share it. I am happy she is allowing us to share it because that is what I wanted to do as I read it, share it far and wide with every woman I know. I hope you will enjoy it.

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I am 12. My family is on vacation in South Carolina.
“I don’t think a woman should be president,” I say contentedly, walking alongside my parents.
They both disagree.
“No, women are too emotional,” I say. “And I can say that, because I am one.”
***
I am 14.
I have decided that I’m not a feminist. “Feminism is stupid,” I say to anyone who brings it up.
It’s not even a real thing. I get things out of this system too. I know how to work the system. If I can manipulate men to get what I want, then that means I win. Men are not smarter than me. I have already discovered that I can flirt to get out of things, and that if I wear a low-cut shirt and bend over, it is distracting. I like having these advantages.
***
I am 16. I have just started driving, and I have a NOBAMA sticker on my car.
I know nothing about politics, but I was raised with Republican grandparents and parents who followed suit. I know that my grandfather is smart and so he must be right. I know that Republicans are for the people who work, and Democrats make the way for lazy people who want the government to hand things to them.
I argue with the people in my class who make fun of me. “Obama shouldn’t get to be president just because he’s black,” I say. Black people aren’t a big deal to me. I don’t even see color.
***
I am 18.
I like being cat-called. I smile and wave back at the men who do it. I laugh at other women who say they don’t feel safe. I feel safe, because I know how to handle myself. Anyway, it’s just boys being boys. That’s just how men are. It just means I’m attractive. Other women should face reality and deal with life.
***
I am 19. I am teaching yoga. I think politics are stupid. I don’t see why everybody can’t see that we’re all one. I think that if we could all just live in the woods everything would be fine. Politics have nothing to do with who I am as a person.
I read an article about yoga and cultural appropriation. I decide it isn’t real, because I’m doing a good job and helping people by teaching.
***
I am 19. It is fall, and I have started school in Vermont. My roommate is from New Jersey. The election is happening in November, and this is the first time I’ll get to vote. I still think politics are stupid, but being able to vote is exciting, plus my teachers always said I should. I am going to vote Republican, because I know my family is smart.
But my roommate is also very smart, and her family has a lot of money. And yet she is a Democrat. And when I ask her questions, she has an answer for all of them. And when she explains different policies, I realize that my actual values align more with hers than with the Republicans. I feel a bit ripped off. We watch the debates. And I love Obama. And I vote for Obama.
And he wins, and it’s like a fun game, and I happily move along with my life.
***
I am 20. I read stories about girls who have been raped. I have friends who have been sexually assaulted. I remember boys grabbing my butt without asking in high school. I start to wonder if it’s all connected. I learn what “rape culture” is.
I am 20. I stop wearing makeup. I stop caring so much about what my appearance looks like. This process is extremely difficult for me, and takes me months of anxiety and tears to get used to. I am angry that it is so difficult. I am angry for the 12-year-old girl that felt she needed to start wearing makeup in the first place. I am angry for the 12-year-old girl who wrote lists about how she could make herself more attractive. I realize that people are still nice to me even when I don’t look “pretty.” I realize that it is society who has been telling me I need to look put-together, I need to wear bras, I need to shave all parts of myself.
I am really fucking angry when I realize how much the ideas of powerful men have controlled my life. I am really fucking angry when I realize how much my teenage thoughts were taken from me by society.
***
I am 21.
I am in San Francisco. I am walking alone, and I get cat-called the most I ever have in my life. At least once per block. It is unbearable, the comments are disgusting, and it is irritating. I am mad. Sometimes I tell them to stop. Most of the time I feel too unsafe to say anything back, so I have to ignore it.
I feel angry that I live in a world where I feel too unsafe to even be able to defend myself.
***
I am 22.
I own a yoga studio. It has been 10 months of owning a yoga studio.
I become disillusioned with the drama-filled community. I google, “I don’t want to teach yoga anymore.” Up pops an article about cultural appropriation.
This time, I understand it. This time, I research for hours and days upon end. I read everything. I am uncomfortable about everything. I do not like it. But I understand it. I recognize the truth in it.
Research leads to topics about social justice in general. Dreadlocks are appropriation too? I watch videos and read articles written by people who are not white.
I am upset. I don’t know what to do with this knowledge, because no one around me wants to hear it.
***
I am 22. While my internal world is crashing down, my outer world is opening up.
I read about the refugee crisis in Greece. I decide to go.
I am scared. I am met with resistance and fear from people around me. But I have found a group of volunteers online who are actually there, who are able to calm my fears. I trust them, the people who are actually there.
When I tell my parents I’m leaving, my mom says, “Well, that’s noble.”
My dad says, “Watch out for the Muslim men, because they will want to hurt you.”
***
I turn 23 while I am in Greece, in a camp full of single Muslim men. A camp I had been terrified to go to because my entire life I have been taught by the world that Middle Eastern men want to rape blonde girls like me.
But bigger than my fear is my conviction that I do not want to live in a world where that is true. I feel that I would rather die than have to live in a world where I am always afraid. A world where I hope that stereotypes aren’t true, but am too scared to go find out and know for sure.
I think that the comments about Muslim men are based in racism, but part of me is afraid that I am wrong. I think, those beliefs had to come from somewhere, right? I am afraid that society is right and that I am wrong.
And I am not wrong. I am so fucking not wrong that I want to scream it from the rooftops and yell at every single person who had the nerve to say that I was. BECAUSE I WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE WORLD.
I meet the people that negative articles have been written about. I hear first-hand the stories of tragedy and war. I hear the other side of the story. I begin to understand, truly, how the media shapes our views.
The newspaper writes an article about me where I say that America is partially to blame and people from home attack me in the comments in ways I didn’t even know were possible. And I do not care, because they are not there. They do not see what I see.
And I come home and I am upset because how do you convey that experience to people?
***
I am 23 and I am laying on the couch at my best friend’s apartment while he tells me the history of the Middle East, that he majored in in college but I had never learned about before.
I start crying as I begin to understand the layers upon layers of the history of the world, and how different events have impacted each other, the mistakes people have made. I can relate the history to the stories of people I have met in real life.
All of a sudden politics feel extremely important.
***
I am 23.
It is before the primaries.
“I just don’t like Hillary Clinton,” I say. “We should have a woman president, but not her. I don’t trust her.”
Someone I respect a lot shares an article about how sexism has shaped our views about Hillary.
I read it and am not sure. The whole country says Hillary is a criminal. At least some of that must be based in fact, right?
I talk to people who confirm my views. Then I talk to other people, and they say, you’re wrong.
***
I am 23.
I have decided to travel, by myself. I am in Vietnam. I adore Vietnam. I buy a book on the history of Vietnam and start to read it while I am in the country and it is like magic, to be able to see things in front of me as I read about them.
I take a tour of areas of war by a war veteran.
I go to the Vietnam War museum and I have to stop over and over again to sit quietly with tears running down my face as I try to absorb everything my country did to that country. History I have never learned, not in this way.
I realize that politics not only are important – they are a matter of life and death.
***
I am 23. I start reading books from perspectives of people who are not like me. I read Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates, which makes me inconsolable for hours. I read the autobiography of Malcolm X. I understand what he means, about knowledge being the most powerful thing. I read article after article after article on racism, on sexism. Articles written by people of color, and articles written by other white people who say “I have been there too, and this is what you need to work through.”
***
I am 23. I am with people from other countries. “We quite like Hillary,” they say. “Our leaders like dealing with her, she is really intelligent. We don’t get why people from your country hate her.”
I am 23. I watch as an unqualified man gets to run for president because he has a ton of money. I watch as he is excused from his racism. I watch as he gets to say anything he wants because people are tired of political correctness. I watch as he brags about sexual assault.
I watch as men excuse his actions away. I watch as women excuse them away, and I see my 14-year-old self explaining why I’m not a feminist. I feel incapable of describing how this is the same. How oppression can be so deeply rooted that we do not even know it’s there.
***
I am 23.
At least a quarter of my country thought this man would be a good president. Around half of the country didn’t think he was bad enough to get out and vote against him.
I am 23 and am told that I’ll grow out of being so upset about this one day. I am told that when I’m older, I’ll understand that this is just democracy. I am told that because I am 23, I’m not able to see that everything will really be okay.
I am 23. I am told to be more positive, that I should not be so angry, that I should really be getting over myself so that we can move forward as one.
I am told that I am too vocal. I am told that I am not being vocal enough.
***
Next week I turn 24.
I am not putting up with this any longer.
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*inspiration for this comes from Lauren Hayes. Her article was featured on The Codex and was entitled Stoking Fires and Poking Bears: The Evolution of a Nasty Woman. You can follow both The Codex and Lauren Hayes, separately, by clicking on their links above and then clicking on the follow buttons for each.

April Fool’s Day Came Late This Year

danger-april-fools

So last week for Thankful Thursday I told about my recent adventures in Automysteryland. If you missed it, please go read the post entitled Stranded-Not Stranded.

Well, I got my car back on Saturday and drove it the 7 miles home and then did not drive it again until Monday when I needed to drive the freeway an hour to get to Seattle and meet for my doctor’s appt. I made it maybe 15 minutes down the road when suddenly I noticed the check engine light was on. I had been without my car for nearly 2 weeks while numerous mechanics and mechanical shops investigated the cause of my mysterious problem. I did not have any problems on Monday, just the warning light was on. Nonetheless, I wasn’t going to take any chances. On my way home from the doctor I went directly back to the dealership who had seemingly fixed the problem.

They checked the error codes and it said catalytic converter. He knew that was not really the issue because they had (as did all the previous mechanics) checked that. So, he said he thought it was an O2 emission sensor on the passenger side of the car. He said it would not impact driveability. I need only be certain to get it fixed before my tabs come due in January.

The next day I had another doctor’s appointment about 40 minutes from where I live. I got in my car and was ready to go. The check engine light was not on as he had “erased” the code. I was driving down the 2-lane road that is the only ingress/egress from my city, chugging along at 40 MPH when without warning my car started jerking violently forward and backward, forward and backward. The dealership was only about 4 miles away so I was determined to try and get there. Once there, I knew, I’d be able to get a loaner car so I kept on about another mile and a half when suddenly everyone was redirected back from whence they came. The road was closed in both directions due to an automobile exit. I was told that I would have to go in the other direction and take another, specific route to get to the dealership which was now only 2 and a half miles from the closure. I turned around and headed back in the direction of my home, but the problem mysteriously vanished. So, I kept going and took that alternate route. An hour and ten minutes later I arrived safely at the dealership. Turned it in and got the loaner for the holiday weekend. When I left I forgot about the road closure and turned toward home and, wouldn’t you know it, the road was opened. Perhaps, had I just waited there at the side of the road I would have gotten to the dealership faster and saved myself stress, time, and gas.

Anyway, apparently the joke was on me. As now we are back to square one with the mystery that has been eluding mechanics with decades of experience for weeks now.

So 2 of my 3 reasons for a Thankful Thursday last week have been erased. I am still grateful that none of the plethora of mechanics took advantage of me. The other reasons are gone. I am therefore grateful this Thursday for my loaner car. For without it, I would be spending Thanksgiving stranded at home.

Happy Thanksgiving my minions! I hope you have a wonderful day and find at least one thing to feel truly thankful for on this day.

☀ Memee

Peaceful Postcard Protest #wcw

Peaceful Postcard Protest #wcw | Memee's Musings

Whether you voted for Donald Trump or Hillary Clinton or Gary Johnson or Jill Stein, there is one thing that the majority of us can agree on: We do not want the neo-Nazis aka White Supremacists aka White Nationalists aka Alt-Right to take hold of our government.

There is a Peaceful Postcard Protest about to take place beginning this Saturday. Our postcards are addressed, stamped, and ready to go. Is yours?

Join me in sending a postcard directly to Trump!

** IMPORTANT – Don’t mail your postcard until SAT. NOV. 26th **
We are aiming to get these mailed between Saturday, Nov 26th and Monday, Nov. 28th to create a concentrated avalanche of postcards.

1. Get a postcard from your state – any picture that represents your state.

2. In the message section, write this simple 2-word message: NOT BANNON!

3. Sign your name if you wish to do so.

4. Address it as follows:
Donald Trump
c/o The Trump Organization
725 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10022

5. Affix a stamp – minimum postage is 35 cents (anything above will do).

6. Take a picture of your postcard that you can share on social media using the hashtag #stopbannon. PLEASE DO NOT WRITE ANYTHING ADDITIONAL ON THE POSTCARD!

7. Drop it in the mail! In the event that you cannot get your postcard mailed over the weekend, please, please send one anyway, ASAP.

8. Now invite, invite, invite! The more voices we can get in the mail, from the more states, the better. To make it go viral we will all need to share the details with our sphere of influence in whatever ways we feel comfortable. Feel free to copy and paste the details or even post your own event. The more individuals the better!

Peaceful  Postcard Protest #wcw | Memee's Musings

My original post about this peaceful postcard protest and my reasons for participating can be read on 1.7 Million and Counting!

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If you’d like to play Words Crush Wednesday along with me here are the details:

Cut/paste and follow these 3 simple rules:

(1) Always pingback to the site you discovered #wcw on with every Words Crush Wednesday post. In this case, that’s me: memeesmusings.com!

(2) In your post, use the badge they’ve created just for you – In this case, you’d use the Panda badge (size doesn’t matter), just grab it below.

(3) Tag your post #wcw so the Words Crush Wednesday community players can find you.

(4) Optional: When you are ready, create your own badge for those you inspire to play Words Crush Wednesday. If you do not create your own badge then your inspirees MUST use the badge from the blogger who inspired you — it’s on your post — so be sure to make it easy for them to find. (P.S. I create all of my graphics on Canva.)

If you wanna play #wcw with me, here's your badge!
If you wanna play #wcw with me, grab that panda badge!

* To see the badge I earned, visit my very first #WCW post. And, here’s my pingback: Rebirth of Lisa

1.7 Million and Counting!

1-7-million-ballots-and-counting

Yes, more election stuff. But I will keep it brief. Hillary Clinton currently has a vote lead of 1.7 million more ballots cast for her than our President-Elect Donald Trump and still not all of the ballots have been counted! And despite the fact that there are many (too many) petitions out there asking the electors to flip their vote our hopes for having a sane, rational human being leading the world has gone. We are, in essence, stuck with this bully to lead the world. Countries which once looked to us for guidance may choose differently, and I wouldn’t blame them in the least. Our soon-to-be president  will in all likelihood choose 3-4 Supreme Court Justices who will dictate the laws of our country. His leadership will undoubtedly adjust our sails and send us on a new course the likes of which we can only imagine. And will have ramifications for decades to come.

We cannot change this fact, but we can try to protest in small ways our outrage, our fears and our strength and determination. And so I ask those of you who are concerned about the future of America for yourselves or your children or your grandchildren, for your friends, for your neighbors, or for your co-workers, please consider participating in this quiet yet moving demonstration which will hurt no one and cost you less than $2.

This is not my original idea. I am simply sharing it (thus the quotes) and a few minor tweaks on my part. However, for the safety and security of the creators I am not citing the originators. It is their wish that we all who feel like participating, share and show support.

“Join in and send a postcard directly to Trump! Here are the basic instructions to participate:

“** IMPORTANT – Don’t mail your card until SAT. NOV. 26th **

“1. Get a postcard from your state – any picture that represents your state.

“2. In the message section, write this simple 2-word message: NOT BANNON!

“3. Sign your name if you wish to do so.

“4. Address it as follows:
Donald Trump
c/o The Trump Organization
725 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10022

“5. Affix a stamp – you can use a 35 cent postcard stamp, or a normal letter stamp.

“6. Take a picture of your postcard that you can share on social media using the hashtag #stopbannon . PLEASE DO NOT USE A REFERENCE TO HILLARY CLINTON OF ANY KIND. She is not responsible for this and should be kept far away from any ramifications.

“7. Drop it in the mail! We are aiming to get these mailed between Saturday, Nov 26th and Monday, Nov. 28th to create a concentrated avalanche of postcards. But if you can’t send yours until later, don’t let that stop you.

“Now invite, invite, invite! The more voices we can get in the mail, from the more states, the better. To make it go viral we will all need to share the details with our sphere of influence in whatever ways we feel comfortable. Feel free to copy and paste the details or even post your own event. The more the merrier!

“If you are unfamiliar with Steve Bannon, he is a white nationalist who is also the head of a media company that proliferates alt-right (misogynistic, homophobic, anti-semitic and white supremacist) views.” He was the first hire to the Trump Administration, with no need for congressional review and approval. He will be the Chief White House Strategist and President Trump’s senior counselor. Do you remember how Dick Cheney was the puppetmaster to George W. Bush… well, this time it will be worse. It will be Steve Bannon.

So please join with me in sending a postcard from your area, anywhere in the world, to Mr. Trump with the clear and succinct message: NOT BANNON!

Please help keep the American Dream alive. We are a melting pot of nationalities and the differences we bring is one of the main reasons we are such a great nation!

The wonderful photograph was taken by Brandon Day and acquired through Unsplash. It’s a great source for free photos under the Creative Commons Zero license, so check it out!

Stranded-Not Stranded

Stranded-Not Stranded | Memee's Musings

Twelve days ago I was driving along when all of a sudden my car started slowing down on it’s own, it slowed, and slooowed, and sloooooooowed.  It felt like their was a chain attached to the undercarriage at the back of my car and that that chain was hooked up at the other end to a giant freighter ship.  I had accidentally left my house that day without my cell phone and just needed to get to my friends so I could feel safe instead of finding myself stranded.  I got off the arterial and slowly made my way closer to closer on roads less traveled and I did not stop, I rolled through the stop signs and eventually made it to the block the restaurant was on.  As I pulled into the parking space my car died altogether.

I went inside and got to work calling a tow truck.  Of, did I forget to mention, it was a Sunday so all auto shops were, of course, closed.  My car was dropped off at one of the very best automotive shops in my county and I waited for word of what was the problem and how much it would cost to fix it.

The next day they telephone me to get more information.  And I told them everything I could think of to describe what was happening.  In my mind I was thinking, fuel injection system, or transmission, or timing belt… all expensive fixes.

They drove the car and nothing.  It was fine, no issues.  Tuesday, they drove the car, nothing, no issues.  Wednesday they drove the car, nothing, no issues.  They drove it in town.  They drove it on the highway.  They drove it up very steep hills.  They put over 70 miles on the car and it ran perfectly for them every single time.

So, on Thursday I went to pick it up.  They did not charge me.  I drove it around the corner and came to a stop at a red light.  And the car started rocking hard, jerking forward and back.  My pressed my foot harder upon the break, pushing it up against the floor pad in fear that my car would leap out into the traffic of the busy arterial that I was waiting to cross.  I watched as the RPM gauge jumped up and down with the jerking motions of my car.   When the light changed I crept forward and then, without notice is jerked again and suddenly I was speeding fast through the intersection.  I thought, well, it seems fine now so I kept going without incident.  Without incident that is until I came to the next stop light.  Again, it began jerking wildly as the RPM gauge hopped like a kid on a pogo stick and then, suddenly the car stalled altogether.  So I put it in park and hoped it would restart, which it did, so that I could try and go back to the mechanic.  I was only about a quarter of a mile away.  It should be fine.  The car started right back up and I began driving, but next it stalled out while I was driving down the road.  It just gave up and died.  Well, it didn’t actually die.  I was able to restart it again.  But the fact that it died while my foot was on the accelerator certainly added more stress to my already quivering-with-fear arms.

I did make it back to the mechanic shop and telephoned a friend to come pick me.  Now that the car was behaving badly we immediately took it on a test drive so they could see, feel, hear what was happening.  They did not think it was the transmission because if it was, it would be consistent rather than intermittent.  It was beginning to get late in the day and they would be closed Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.  It would not be until Monday when they could try and figure it out and make a real diagnosis.

And on day eight of not having my car they test drove it again and, wouldn’t you know it, it ran perfectly.  No warning lights or error codes to be discovered.  They began to suspect that it was the Catalytic Converter (the part alone costs a thousand bucks).  However, they had no definitive way of knowing that was the issue and didn’t want to replace such an expensive part when it was just a guess.  They recommended I take it to another mechanic who had another tool for checking the Cat as their tools were not indicating an issue.

So on Tuesday my son drove me to that city so I could move my car from that shop to one about a mile and a half up the road.  My son followed me in his vehicle and at first I had no issues.  I made it maybe 4 blocks and then I hit the hazard lights as my car was slowing.  I turned off the arterial road we were on and made my way to lesser trafficked streets.  This meant I would be turning left and right at various points (using my arm as blinkers) but at least I wouldn’t have to worry quite as much about being hit by another vehicle.  Eventually we made it there, but not after my car slowed to a stop and important moments, both were mid-turn in the intersections.  The second turn was onto a major road I could not avoid.  At that turn it came to a full stop though the engine did not die.  I aimed my steering wheel toward the sidewalk deciding I was probably going to have to tow it the remaining 3 blocks when, all of a sudden it car lurched forward.  It was very scary, had I not reacted swiftly I would have leapt onto the sidewalk and hit a decorative tree.  Of course, thinking swiftly meant turning away from the sidewalk and back into the traffic.  I was lucky though, timing was perfect to keep me safe.  I jumped in front of a van instead of hitting the van had it been a second later. We managed to get it to the second mechanic shop.  Another excellent shop.  And the next day, Wednesday, he told me that it was not the Catalytic Converter.  He too was stumped by what was causing the issue.  His best advice was to take it to the dealership.  Which of course I wanted to avoid the high cost of dealing with them for my 14 year old car.

I would never be able to drive the car to the dealership, the closest of which was a 20 minute drive on the freeway.  So I called a tow truck and had it delivered to them yesterday.  I was 10 days without transportation at this point and felt grateful that despite the enormous price I was likely facing ahead, at least I would be given a loaner vehicle.  I have appointments tomorrow, Friday, that I had already postponed a week.

Today I get the call.  They found the problem.  And it was a remarkably simple one.  It could have, would have been discovered by any of the mechanics who looked at it before had the check engine light come on.  The dealership, in fact, admitted they got lucky in discovering the mystery.  The coolant sensor literally crumbled when their mechanic touched it. Once replaced the car ran perfectly so I got off easy on cost.

This Thursday I am grateful that I once again have a running automobile.  I am grateful that none of the mechanics who looked at the car ripped me off.  And I am grateful that the fix was affordable.

Here’s the mysterious little guy who caused me so much stress:

Stranded-Not Stranded | Memee's Musings

 

The wonderful photograph at the top of post was taken by Christopher Windus and acquired through Unsplash. It’s a great source for free photos under the Creative Commons Zero license, so check that site out!

#wcw From a Very Wise Woman

Wise Woman | Memee's Musings

Women have, for so long, used this quote  when facing the uncomfortable truth that they have ignored relationship red flags.  Women have used for so long this quote to support other women who are making a hard decision to leave an abusive partner.  As women we find strength, truth, and understanding in these wise words by the remarkably wise woman, the poet Maya Angelou.

It is not my intention to turn this blog into a platform for political debate or discussion.  It has always been a place where I place my thoughts.  Thoughts that need to be purged and thoughts that I want to remember. So, right now it is reflecting election stuff and I hope that you, my lovely minions, will continue to visit me and like me despite any varying viewpoints we may have.  #IStillLoveYou #IStillRespectYou

I have been very troubled by the outcome of this election.  I am a person who is filled with love and kindness, tenderness and compassion.  And, as many humans do, I tend to think most people are similar to me and therefore I believed it would be impossible for a man filled with so much hate and venom, a man who enjoyed stirring the pot and riling people up, enjoyed inciting and igniting their angers and fears to ever become our president.  He does not represent my values.  And every night as I sleep I am haunted by the outcome.  Last night was interesting.  Last night I dreamt that I was watching a breaking news story, that President-Elect Trump, having had no idea of the scope of the presidential job, announced that he would not be taking the job.  And now, as a result of our not having a president-elect, President Bill Clinton would be remaining in office for another 2 years as we go through a new presidential election.

Dreams are weird aren’t they?  Anyway, back to my quote.  I have heard and even continue to hear people say that Trump was putting on a show to gain supporters and that is not who he really is.  That now that he has won the election his true colors will shine through and we will discover that he is in fact none of what we saw reflected over the course of the 2 years, plus, that he has been in our eyes and ears spouting his viewpoints.  But I say look at his past, look at all of the history of behavior, all of it, decades and decades worth.  He is exactly who he was during the campaign and if that is not enough to persuade you, look at the people he is surrounding himself, look at his posse of friends who he is placing into key positions in our government.  Wake up, America!  We have some serious trouble in our future.  It’s time to start educating yourselves for survival because this America that we have known and loved and been blessed to grow up in, it’s going to be changing and it may never be the same again.

There, that’s the end of my rant.  Love thy neighbor as you would love yourself. Hate is a dangerous thing.  I do not hate this man.  But I am very, very weary of him and fear what we will suffer, each and every one of us.

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If you’d like to play Words Crush Wednesday along with me here are the details:

Cut/paste and follow these 3 simple rules:

(1) Always pingback to the site you discovered #wcw on with every Words Crush Wednesday post. In this case, that’s me: memeesmusings.com!

(2) In your post, use the badge they’ve created just for you – In this case, you’d use the Panda badge (size doesn’t matter), just grab it below.

(3) Tag your post #wcw so the Words Crush Wednesday community players can find you.

(4) Optional: When you are ready, create your own badge for those you inspire to play Words Crush Wednesday. If you do not create your own badge then your inspirees MUST use the badge from the blogger who inspired you — it’s on your post — so be sure to make it easy for them to find. (P.S. I create all of my graphics on Canva.)

If you wanna play #wcw with me, here's your badge!
If you wanna play #wcw with me, grab that panda badge!

* To see the badge I earned, visit my very first #WCW post. And, here’s my pingback: Rebirth of Lisa