The Joy of Life

I am so deeply grateful for life. My faithful lungs pull in the air and push it out. I love movement and order. Every day is just the wonderful mix of moments. It seems alien to me that everyone isn't taking time to celebrate the chance to be. The other day someone tapped me and asked me why I'm enjoying a mundane moment so much. I answered that I love the moments.

It is enough for me to breathe and enjoy sweeping my floor, making my bed, hugging my cats, punching the water in water aerobics, writing my stories, chatting with my sweetheart, celebrating every good thing... It doesn't matter to me to be if I'm in the spotlight or waiting on the sidelines. The good stuff is I know myself. I'm never alone. I'm always loved. I believe in the mystery of good news. The Deliever is with me. I was born for this time. A time to live.

In a look-at-me world, I am content to live in the little realm of me where contradictions are often and so is laughter. I'm sitting on a gold mine. Everyone needs the freedom I've found in pursuing happiness. In life. In freedom. If today is the day that my words strike a chord or maybe a million years from now my words will be my day, still I will sing, I will pray, I will tell stories. I'm happy now, but I'm also happy to wait for as long as it takes. Exist, friends. Exist with all your might!

A quote for your pocket:

I exist as I am, that is enough,
If no other in the world be aware I sit content,
And if each and all be aware I sit content. Walt Whitman

Life is Necessary for Your Art To Thrive

If you live on this planet, you have suffered or will suffer. We are all fighting battles. It's part of being human. You must not begrudge life when it keeps you from your art. You must live to create art. LIFE is the great cauldron of art.  LIFE brings happiness, love, hope, but on the flipside, pain, distress, hardship--you need all to find your voice.  

There is a movement in this world of ultimate positivity. There are older movements of faith and friendship. I find being positive in the face of tragedy farcical. I go with the older movements when working through life. I turn to faith. I cast my burdens on the Lord and he sustains me. I find myself unmoved and able to travel on in the storms of life. That said, weathering storms takes time.  My pen goes down.  My poems stop.  

It's a frightening time. 

It is your job to feel. I encourage to perceive your deeply. Remember this awareness will inform your work when you are ready. These upheavals may change the direction of your work. You may leave many things undone to start something new. You may return to something you started in your 20s that you complete in your 50s.  You will return to your art. Give it time.  

Embrace the days given you. Live your life. Then create your art.  Every little thing will shine.  

A doodle for you: 

A quote for your pocket: 

I see the world being slowly transformed into a wilderness; I hear the approaching thunder that, one day, will destroy us too. I feel the suffering of millions. And yet, when I look up at the sky, I somehow feel that everything will change for the better, that this cruelty too shall end, that peace and tranquility will return once more. Anne Frank

SPECIAL NOTE:

Does a writer need to be paid?

Seize the day has moved to NIMUE, but, because of requests, I will post my blog here a week after it is available on NIUME. Please, if you want to just receive my timely blog through Niume, follow this linka, then enter your email or follow. Done. You may also follow my blog by following me on Facebook, Linkedin or Twitter. It really helps me out if you follow me on NIUME or through other platform because this monetizes my blog.  

If you want things to stay the same. Consider using  PayPal to support my work. Long onto PayPal send tips to  molly@mollyblaisdell.com.

Chicken by Chicken: Panic Attacks a Life

Hi folks, I'm writing my series called Chicken by Chicken. I spend this month writing the real, especially my challenges. This is a difficult post to write. My life hasn't been normal. It has been defined by panic.  Panic attacks. I don't remember my first attack, maybe I was 5 or 6. I estimate I have had more than a thousand panic attacks in my life. It is strange, even writing about panic attacks makes a nervous feeling in my chest, but I'm going to press on.

For years I didn't know what was going on. It was clear to me early on that a few specific thing send me into panic. I 'd lose my glasses, or go to the dentist, or be picked on at school. I also had panic attacks about lost keys, missed school assignments, and bank errors. Sometimes I have had random attacks about speaking in public and entering new situations. Some of my panic triggers make sense to me. Some do not. 

In my worst seasons, I had panic attacks that happened once or twice a day for months.  I have multiple panic attacks in a day. The first mega attack day was in the third grade. I had 10 panic attacks in a row. I lost my glasses and I started a new school. I still remember the waves of panic crashing over me.  I sat at my desk and struggled with attack after attack for the whole school day. I was moved into a special ed classroom. These mega attacks have hit me through the years.  It's always if I'm hit with many triggers.

I've seen things turn into panic triggers. Here is my worst: I sought help in my early twenties, but unfortunately, my mental health provider did something human and stupid by having an affair with a guy 25 years younger than her.  The guy was being torn apart by the relationship. The guy was also a very close friend of mine.  My mental health provider stopped my sessions, informing me that she was having the affair with my friend.  I was dropped and left without care. Yeah, and then speaking to a mental health provider became one of my triggers. Dang. 

Here is reality of my panic attacks. They hit like a tornado. The shortness of breath. Hyperventilation. My heart races. Trembles shake my body. Cold sweats and goosebumps follow.  I often throw up. Uncontrollable sobbing. Dizziness. Wailing. It doesn't make sense. It's terrifying to those around me. It's terrifying to me. 

To know me is to know my panic. Most of my attacks last about 20 to 30 minutes. It's taken years to build strategies to survive and to find drugs that actually help.  I sometimes think it is beyond ridiculous to think I'm going to be a writer. What if a panic attack blindsides me?  People who love me understand. Everyone else is not so forgiving. 

    

I wish I could say I got the health care I needed for this right off and it has been all good. That is not my story. It took time to get help because mental health workers cause me to panic. This is the first time in life I've ever had the moxie to even speak of this. I do have healthcare now. I do have good medication. I can still have a panic attack now and then, but it is down to maybe two a year and never multiple attacks. 

I have solid ways to deal with panic. When it comes, I recognize I'm having attack. I speak my mantra: "This is a panic attack. It is a problem that is not the problem. It cannot hurt me. It cannot stop me. It just chemicals poured into my body. My fight of flight system is messed up. The chemicals will dissipate and then I can deal with the real problem."  I breathe slowly, repeating the mantra, until the panic ends. 

I am a person with a rare gift for words, but I'm also this broken person, who has been broken for most of my life by panic.  I hope that my struggle helps you to be brave and face whatever you are facing. I hope that you say what you need to.   

I will be back next week with more of Chicken by Chicken.  

Here is a doodle. Girl in the Moon. 

Here is a quote for your pocket. 

Listen to God with a broken heart. He is not only the doctor who mends it, but also the father who wipes away the tears. Crissi Jami