The Unrepentant Pollyanna

It is high time to change things over here, at La Blog De Senora Hall. Come see the purple colors. They are soothing.

Time to change what I am these days, when I feel what I feel about selling my house. No more posts about it. Yesterday's was the last. I am tired of hearing about it. It's a fact that selling my house is a harsh and often unfair process. It requires me to be passive and still.

Unfair and harsh are part of life. Nobody ever said life was fair.

Thus, I am now presented with an opportunity. This time of wait and want is a chance to thrive. Thrive by breaking open my unrelenting and unrepentant Pollyanna nature. All of this- is a chance for me to breathe. To strengthen my skills of still. To be passive and just let it all happen.



Who I am and how I deal with things is a template. I am the standard operation procedure from which my children learn how to deal.

So let's back up and take a look at the big picture. beep beep beep . .

Yesterday; when I was driving the kids to the park, I reached into the back seat. I began to tickle my son's bare, chubby knees. He laughed, giggled and shrieked. Then I felt him pushing my hand. I thought he was pushing it away.

Then, Mac became quiet. No longer responding to my tickles. He is behind me so I couldn't really see what was going on. I could hear him wiggle and murmur. He was concentrating.

Then I felt it. He squished it into my palm. It was small, wooden train. It's the train he always grabs for as we head out the door. It's the train he sleeps with. The train he would take a bath with, if I would let him. He was sharing it with me.

Then Mac says, "Mommy plays train!!"



This is what it's all about. Everything else is just a distraction.


This right here.

Have a good weekend everyone. Get out and enjoy some sweet corn! It's best this time of year :)

Words vs. Words

Words are letters mashed together. Letters are from sounds we make. I am watching my son, Mac, develop the use of words. He can make soft sounds like Mamma and Daddee. The P and T sounds are unatainable for now. Mac is loud and makes lot of sounds. I love hearing him.

Pancake, my daughter, can use all types of words. She twists and turns them. She has mastery over the words, if not the meanings. She is very verbal. Currently, she is in love with potty words. I love her when she talks too.

In this blog, I use a lot of words. Editing has never been my strong suit. I have placed time limits on my posting though. Afterall, what writer couldn't spend several hours just writing and rewriting. I try to make the posts small. But, I just can't help myself sometimes.

I care for words. They care for me. Writing lets my brain decompress and my breathing get deeper. It also stimulates me, all this writing. And linking to other blogs is like a writer's group. I have been a part of two such groups. I was also the most prolific member. I will strive for quality over quantity here, but no promises.

In the end, words only get me so far. They can be a barrier even. Rationalizing and denial are devices born out of words.

Words can also divide me from others. Sometimes, this is on purpose. I talk dumb or smart to be excused. I am still learning how to tolerate others getting near me. And this is what this blog is all about. And exercise in increasing my tolerance.

Not tolerance in the politically correct way. But basic tolerance of letting others hear me and know me. This is my ultimate challenge. To be honest here, with my words. Letting all my dangling participles just dangle. Letting my broken english stay broken. Tolerating my words and what is behind them. Thus, what is in here, is really me. I am Mrs. Hall.

When I read something that fires me up, I pause and bird dog it. Especially if it makes me angry or hateful. These emotions that are speaking for things I have long since buried. But, the things are buried alive, just waiting to jostle my insides, waiting to be heard. And healed. And off I go to yoga. Words can't find me there. But the real stuff can.

Yet I write about yoga. I am very careful about this. In the past, I have used my verbal gymnastics to distance myself from my feelings. The things I feel in yoga are real and important. I don't want to shush them if I speak them outloud. I want to just feel them. And be alright. It sucks sometimes though. If you bury things, the tend to rot and get meatier. Nobody likes Zombies. They're smelly.

In the end, I want these words to serve a purpose beyond myself. For those of you reading, and THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! Even if you clicked to check out the hot babe in my banner and profile. Thank you for reading!

I put positive energies into these words. I hope you come away the same.

Feel the love people, feel the love.

:)

Mrs. Hall