Writer’s Prompt

Did I Catch You at a Bad Time?

Or did you catch your breakthrough?

On July 15 Sherry McGuinn expressed her frustration in “I Can’t Catch A Break” which you will find at the end of this story.

She tagged me among other writers. (Thank you!)

Though I love playing, I’m sure she realizes by now never to appoint me to a Rapid Response Team — that’s not my game. I’m not the fastest girl in town!

I popped her questions into my brain, allowing them to simmer on a low flame rather than boil over and mess up my mind.

She asks:

“What are your dreams, my friends? Are you inching toward them, slowly but surely, or are they dissipating in the cold light of this new day?”

Followed by:

“What is your mantra these days? Maybe, if yours sucks like mine, we can suggest new ones that will inspire us, as opposed to making us feel small.”

My life is filled with many broken dreams

I dropped the idea of investing in a dream catcher decades ago because it would become clogged with dreadful dreams and negative energy in no time.

As I get older, I acknowledge that age has a deadline. Each moment unattended is an opportunity lost.

For that reason, I hold on for dear life to my current dream of being a successful writer. Like a dog that won’t let go.

But I often curse myself for being slow. I entangle my Self in the comparison trap. See other writers producing quality content at such a pace that I fear I’ll be left behind.

Then I remember where I was three years ago and say hey girl, you’ve come a long way!

Then that wretched voice in my head says, “Not far enough. You’d better hurry or you’ll never get there.”

Then my heart asks, “Where is There? Isn’t Here good enough?”

Talk about inner conflict!

I wrote a book three years ago on depression

Starry-eyed plans to self-publish and go viral. But my writing has improved so much since then, the idea of re-writing is exhausting. Then I pile on other excuses — don’t have the moolah to set up a website, pay for editing or commission a book cover design.

Blah!

That’s ego talking — logic and reason to protect me from myself.

“What a liberation to realize that the voice in my head is not who I am. Who am I, then? The one who sees that.” — Eckhart Tolle.

Despite that, I don’t always get that voice to shut the hell up.

I’ve written a ton of stuff explaining that the images, thoughts and language we create in our brains directly affect outcomes and emotions.

That we should replace with positive mantras such as I’m enough, I matter, I’m capable, I’m significant.

But what if you’re not in the mood?

What if the future looks bleak?

Where will I find opportunities while our SA economy tanks? We’ll reach 50% unemployment next year or sooner. How will I be able to help when I’m already dependent on a monthly social state grant to survive?

Thoughts whirl and swirl and I have to stop them before they spiral out of control.

Thank God for my soul.

I’ve self-monitored my mental health for twenty years

Since my 70th in May, the darkness of depression is doing its damnedest to invade my space and I’m fighting back.

Regular periods of weepiness. (Not those periods- this bitch was spayed decades ago.)

My engine of concentration isn’t firing on all cylinders as it should. Anger, frustration, irritability and restlessness drop in uninvited, accompanied by low self-esteem.

Classic symptoms.

I counter with meditation, journalling and writing, the latter occasionally leading to self-flagellation but more often a salve that soothes and calms.

I’ve identified three key factors driving this dissonance.

• My brother passed in October last year and I missed his wishing me on reaching 70.
• His birthday is this Thursday, July 23, but he’s no longer here to celebrate. I miss him.
• I’m too sensitive to the suffering of others. This pandemic has highlighted the ingrained inequalities in this world and the stories of poverty, hunger, brutality, suffering and death overwhelm me.

Even as I write this, tears well up.

Though I believe that our souls live on, this is the life I’m living now.

It can be scarier than dying.

I want to cry for the world and make everything and everyone better, but I feel so helpless.

If I succeeded as a writer, I would share my riches. The best I can do for now is share my words to lift others. Create and write as if there’s no tomorrow.

I have much to be grateful for — food, shelter, the greetings of birdsong every morning.

I can only live one day at a time. Move one step at a time.

The future is pure speculation.

Whew, that was better than a therapy session!

I hope it helped you too if you’re in a funk.

Our circumstances, countries and backgrounds may differ but keep in mind, no country’s leaders have a clue how to handle this pesky virus. The US is not unique.

Last Sunday night our President banned alcohol (again) and introduced a curfew (again). The news that South Africa has moved from being ranked 10th highest number of cases to 5th is the people’s fault and nothing to do with the government.

Crowded townships, lack of water for washing hands, shortage of oxygen at hospitals, test results taking up to two weeks, rendering them useless, people starving, hospitals overwhelmed.

The dominant activities on Mandela Day, Saturday, July 18, were soup kitchens and feeding the hungry. I made my donations on-line to two food charities.

Madiba was a struggle hero but now we have another fight on our hands — against power, authority and stupidity.

Let’s be struggle heroes together.

Time for a little silliness to lighten the mood

If I can’t catch a break, I’ll try rhyming.

Going to catch a bus to nowhere Hope I don’t catch cold Catch a breather in the meantime Shit, I’m getting old

Don’t you dare catch me by surprise Don’t catch me off guard If you look deep into my eyes Concentrate real hard

Now that I’ve caught your attention Did you catch the news? Dammit, I forgot to mention There’ll be no more booze

You know I’m a butterfingers I can’t catch a ball But stick around, let me linger To catch you if you fall

In answer to the specific questions posed by Sherry

• I’ll hold fast to my writing dream and have added poetry to my repertoire
• Mantras, affirmations — whatever name we give them — only work if we believe them

“You are always a valuable, worthwhile human being — not because anybody says so, not because you’re successful, not because you make a lot of money — but because you decide to believe it and for no other reason.” — Dr Wayne Dyer (1940–2015)

I love that man!

The secret is to ignore the chatter in our heads.

I find my quiet space when I meditate and connect with heart and soul. That’s where the Truth lies.

I’ll catch you later!

Here is the story prompt from Sherry McGuinn:

And the response from Joe Luca:

If you’re stuck, you can try this:

Or you may care for a taste of my poetry: