Learn To Trade Your Nice For Nasty When You Need To...

Hi!

I know, obnoxiously big pictures. At this point, it kind of feels like I'm just bragging about the beauty that surrounds those of us who live in this part of the world.

I am choosing to look at it as sharing. Not everyone lives in a place where seasons change, where leaves are painted with this incredible colour palette, where the shift in seasons is felt, and not just in the dip in temperature.

We wish summer a sweet farewell, embracing all that autumn has to offer.

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This week, I had the opportunity to take part in a self-defense class.

It was informative. It was informative, in many ways.


The attendees of this event were women between the ages of 19 and, if I had to guess, about 70. The instructor, a young man seemingly well versed in teaching these type of classes.

Throughout the demonstrations, I was watching reactions to the different scenarios, each depicting a variety of situations, involving different levels of violence.

A few things became very clear.

The vast majority of the women in the room had a hard time envisioning themselves in these situations, situations in which they would willfully and willingly inflict as much pain as possible on another human being.

By the reactions, it also became pretty clear that the majority of these women have never had to defend themselves in any real, physical way. That, in and of itself is a blessing. But, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't surprised.

I hope, someday, we get to a place in our society where being able to physically ward off a personal attack of any kind becomes completely unnecessary. Sadly, we aren't there yet.

We, women, by nature, are generally nurturing. The thought of purposefully inflicting pain and injury on someone else is at its least, distasteful, at its worst sickening.

The instructor talked about the fight or flight instinct, including a third, freezing. I'm so glad he brought this up, because that is exactly what shoots through your body at lightning speed. The way you are wired, and what life has thrown at you up to that point, will be what dictates which of these three instincts will drive what comes next.

According to our instructor, and I agree full-heartedly, it should always be fight.


You're not likely to outrun him. You're not going to fix the broken soul of this asshat with some epiphany invoking speech. Freezing will only give him more time to hurt you.

Fight. Fight first. Fight hard. Fight fast. Fight furiously. Fight for yourself like you would your child. Fight like your life depends on it, because it can, and most likely, will.

Take a class. Learn what it feels like to physically hurt someone on purpose. Learn to fight your instinct to be nice.


Learn to trade your nice for nasty when you need to.

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Gotta run.


Until next time


May you walk with enough confidence, enough swagger to take the target off your back.
May you allow yourself to check your 'nice' at the door when you need to, let your heart go black.

May you learn to be your own white knight, your own hero, learn it's ok to kick some ass.
May you see you can be a badass, go for the eyes, throat and groin, and still possess all kinds of class.

May you see that it's ok to get your hands dirty to keep yourself safe.
May you gain these skills, empowering yourself, it could, someday, save your life.


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Snowflakes...Call Them That If You Wish

Hi!


It's hard to look outside and match the physical beauty of what's going on with the ugliness that seems to be permeating just beneath the surface.


We have world leaders who have photos and videos surfacing that, at their best, show a complete lack of judgment, at their worst, flagrant racism. We have world leaders seeking help from foreign agencies to besmirch a perceived American adversary. We have certain world leaders who still, in the face of all of the incredibly solid science, deny that the climate is changing. We have a groundswell of hate-speech and racism that manifests itself in tragedy.

There is an ugliness that seems to be permeating just beneath the surface.


But that is not the whole world.


We have an incredible generation of young people, accused of being snowflakes, showing they are anything but. They are sick of participating in lockdown drills, they are sick of burying their friends, they are sick of being scared, they are sick of adults tripping all over themselves to deny the obvious and, other than the sickeningly predictable thoughts and prayers, doing less than nothing.

We have young people like Greta Thunberg. If you aren't familiar with her name, don't worry, you will be. She is sixteen, from Sweden, fierce, and fearless. She looks into the eyes of those who choose ignorance and challenges them unapologetically, without reverence, unintimidated. She is respectful and confident in the facts she presents. She either is unaware or really couldn't care less about the politics the adults in the room want to use to prop up their excuses. She inspires people of all ages. She is focused, passionate, smart, and determined to do whatever necessary to save our planet.

Lofty goals. Completely doable. She just might be the one to force the conversation into reality.


We have young people like the Parkland kids. They are pushing, unrelenting, creating change. They don't want their kids to suffer the trauma of lockdown drills, learning the little songs that show 4-year-olds what to do if an active shooter has entered their preschool. They don't want their kids to witness the deaths of their friends and family as they take in the activities of a festival/concert/church service/school.


Lofty goals. Completely doable. They just might be the ones to force the conversation into reality.


These kids show more leadership on their worst day, than many of our world leaders do on their best.

I know. They are naive. They don't know how the real world works. They're too young to understand.


The truth is, the adults, through their incompetent inaction, have stripped away their naivete and innocence, have robbed them of their carefree childhoods.


You don't get to, with one hand, force them to live in fear, perpetuate that fear for money and politics, batter and bruise their earth within an inch of its life, again for money and politics, make them watch as their bloodsoaked classmates fall all around them, watch as their homes and cities are destroyed by storms that carry a strength never before seen, and then claim they are naive.



This generation of young people has been molded by their most basic urge. Survival. If the adults continue to refuse to save them, they are going to do it themselves.


Snowflakes. Call them that if you wish. Beautiful, unique, together, they hold the power to change how the world operates.


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Dear Snowflakes,

May you find the strength to continue your fight, no matter how relentless it seems.
May you create the world you envision, the world you see in your best dreams.

May your children live the carefree existence that was ripped from your young souls.
May you achieve everything, all of it, everything you see now, and all of your future goals.

**************************************************************

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Butterfly In A Hurricane...

                                       

Hi!

I know I'm a bit late on this little gem, I've been busy.

Apparently, we now live in a world where it's perfectly okay for world leaders to edit maps with a sharpie. I mean, not only did he edit it, he made his bros back him up about it.

How did I not know that this was an option?! Now that I do, I fully intend to incorporate this into my life.

I can think of countless things that could use this sharpie adjustment. Utility bills, book reviews, credit card statements, pricing in grocery stores, income tax forms.... 

If we ever get to see his returns, that is if the Bermuda triangle hasn't swallowed them, I wonder if they have been edited in the same way. Surely he's not that dumb... well...

To falsely instill fear in citizens for no reason other than you can't seem to bring yourself to admit a simple mistake. 

To have official government agencies put out statements to spank anyone who had the audacity to correct said mistake.

To do all of this, while, with your other hand, you kick survivors of one of the worst hurricanes in history off of the boat that is there to rescue them. 

Oh, and now, banning flavoured vape pens. So quick to jump all over this issue. Good on ya.

Hey, if the science backs it up, I'm all for it. If it's a hobby that is causing preventable injury and death, go for it. If limiting or banning this will save one life, it's more than worth it.

Ahem... rapid-fire guns that have ended and destroyed the lives of so many...

I mean, with one sweep of a sharpie... problem solved.

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Okay, next.

The bitch that is menopause.

Some sail through this part of womanhood barely noticing it happened. 

I'm genuinely happy for these women. I wish I were one of them.

The physical discomfort is pretty gross. But, it's just that, discomfort. It's not real pain, most of us have dealt with worse, champions of sucking crap up.

Women are Warriors. We have to be, 

Before I start getting letters from all the men out there, women being warriors does not make you less than. I can only see life through the lens I was born with. I can adjust for brightness and age, tweek for wisdom gathered through time, but the basic lens stays the same. So save it. 

We often deal with the gross physical byproducts of menopause with humour. Why? 

Because what else are you going to do? 

You chase sleep like a dog chasing his tail, not realizing it's been bobbed off. 

You randomly, but often, attempt spontaneous combustion, at its most kind, leaving you as sweaty as a sumo wrestler who just finished a marathon, relaxing in a Turkish sauna. If you're super lucky, you also get to feel like you might puke, pass out, or get arrested for streaking. 

Then there's the skin crawly crap, the weird hairs thing, random weight gain in random places, the bloating like a blowfish, brain fog, and so on, and on, and on, and so freakin' on. 

We deal with these gross physical realities with humour.

That's the physical. But the physical is only half of it. 

The other side, is the emotional side. The havoc this hormonal rollercoaster causes. 

We try to set it aside, we don't talk about it as much. Why? Because it's hard, and it isn't funny.

I know I can't be the only one that struggles, at times, with the darker side of this bitch that is menopause. 

A butterfly in a hurricane, a whisper in the thunder

There are times when it’s hard not to be swept away by the force.

Every surface on which I stand quakes with random cadence, threatening to pull me under.

My tuition, my strength, betray me, making it harder and harder to stay the course.

The harshness that ravages my thoughts, the utter sadness, the anxiety, I don’t recognize this me.

The solver, the fixer, decision-maker, caretaker, organizer, juggler, plate spinner, that is who I am.

This crumbling, weepy, sweat-soaked, shaky, prickly, foggy being, I don’t know how to be this me.

It’s pretty much impossible to lead my badass life in the skin of a stunted lamb.

I miss me, I can’t wait for my return on the other side this menopausal hell.

In the meantime, be patient, I’m still here, puddled beneath the unsure mess of my remains.

There are days wherein I almost slip into my old skin, feel almost me, almost myself.

Then it quakes, I break, stripped threadbare, vulnerable once again, a butterfly in a hurricane.

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Until next time...

May you dig into your warrior, she's still there, find her, hold on.

May you cut yourself some slack, give yourself a break, you're changing, not gone.

May you treat yourself with the same kindness you would a struggling friend.

May you know through this, you will not completely break, it's why we are built to bend.

May you seek the humour, search for the laugh, it's yours to do with what you wish.

May you see that it's okay to reveal that it absolutely sucks, you're not a complainer, menopause is a bitch!

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https://www.amazon.ca/Once-Broken-Margy-Reid-ebook/dp/B071HTFTX6/ref=sr_1_3?keywords=once+broken&qid=1568305419&s=gateway&sr=8-3

I Look Back And See Everywhere I've Yet To Be...

I'm writing, once again, with a heavy heart.

The universe dimmed yesterday, as it lost the light that shone through the soft heart and sweet soul of our cousin, Marvin.

My memories of him are not near as many as I would love them to be, but the ones I do have are full of a lot of fun, some mischief, a ton of laughter, and will always be something I treasure.

A young man who lived a big life. A guy who didn't invite attention, not the loudest voice in the room, a guy who had a family who loved him deeply, his absence, a void that will never be able to be filled. 

Death shows no discretion in who it chooses. It doesn't care how old you are, how loved you are, how many will miss you when you're gone. Sometimes it begins its capture while your heart still beats.

Alzheimer's is a stealthy thief, stealing bits at a time, barely noticeable at first, but then it is. It declares utter victory when your essence disappears.

Alzheimer's, Death's wicked henchman. You may strip them of who they are toward the end, then hand them over, body and soul. But then, oh, but then, they get to be free. No longer suffering from the fragmented memories that can stoke fear and confusion. Once again whole and at peace. 

That's how I will remember Marvin. Eyes full of humour, a gentle kindness, a helpful heart. Was he perfect? I feel, even though we weren't close, we shared enough DNA for me to confidently say, not even close. But, I also know without a doubt that he was a really good human who deserved better than what he was dealt.

Death shows no discretion. 

We never know what lies ahead. That's what is both thrilling and terrifying about life.

We get busy. We put things off. The places we wish to go, things we would love to do. 

Go. Do the thing. See the place. 

I know I have a bucket list that needs some checkmarks. 

We get so busy getting through life, we miss out on really living a lot of it. 

I look back and see everywhere I've yet to be.

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Until next time...

May those who feel this loss the deepest find comfort, find peace.

May you know there are no rules in grief, all in your own way, at your own pace.

May you help each other through, let the stories, tears and laughter flow.

May you, in time, be able to embrace the memories with less pain, no hurry, go slow.

***************************************************************

www.margyreidbooks.com 

https://www.amazon.ca/Once-Broken-Margy-Reid-ebook/dp/B071HTFTX6/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=once+broken&qid=1567809395&s=gateway&sr=8-1

Today Just Isn't That Day...

Hi!



Life is a rollercoaster.


If yours isn't, you're not trying hard enough...



I could give the usual cliches about the ups and downs, the twists and turns, we've all heard them, and, let's face it, cliches become cliches because they carry truth.


I could give those cliches, but you've heard them before, just like I have. Hell, I'm sure I've used them in past ramblings.


Today just isn't that day.


Life brings a lot of real challenges. Physical health complications, permanent injuries, mental health issues, disabilities, death, relationship heartache, jobs disappearing. Real. Actual. Life-changing. Hardships. These are subjects that need respectful attention, individually, thoughtfully, and with the gravitas they so preciously deserve. I believe this with everything I am, but...


Today just isn't that day.


The world is filled with some twisted and evil individuals, doing twisted and evil things to others for no other reason than they can. They feel they have the right. Some of them have power because we gave it to them, some were born into it, some just assume a power that only lives in their heads. If you read these ramblings with any regularity, you know I don't exactly shy away from these asshats, but...


Today just isn't that day.



Today is the day I'm going to tackle some smaller, but, I believe, still important things.


People often try to fit others inside little boxes, boxes that would make them comfortable. Neat, tidy, little boxes.


I write for children, yes, but that doesn't encompass everything I write.

I'm a Mom, yes, but, I was also a stock car driver.

I'm a Grandma, yes, but I also run a DJ/Karaoke business where I get to sing and entertain.

I'm a Wife, yes, but I am also a business partner to my husband, running a successful RV repair shop.


Boxes are containers. Don't allow yourself to be contained.



It's time for "back to school" where I call home.



To parents... please don't be naive. I hate to break it to you, but, yes, your little angel is more than capable of making bad decisions and having a bad day or two, or five. Always give your kid the benefit of the doubt, but have doubt. Remember, a toddler, barely capable of speech, has the ability to lie their butt off to try and stay out of trouble. Self-preservation is a strong instinct. Of course, they are going to use it. Instead of assuming your little one couldn't carry any culpability, help them to take responsibility for their choices, their actions. Help them to understand that a couple of bad decisions doesn't make you a bad person. Let them learn. As they know better, they will do better.

Your children watch and hear more than you give them credit for. They are learning from you, with every comment, every side-eye, every reaction. They learn from how you treat people. All people. They are not born with prejudices, with judgments, with assumptions of others, these are absorbed from you.

Teach kindness.


To kids... be kind, be empathetic, be accepting, be a good friend. Everyone has different interests, different talents, different strengths, none of which are better or more important than another. Everyone has a different personality, unique and special to them Every single person is equally important, equally deserving of respect, and equally deserving to be treated with nothing but kindness. Be kind.



It's time for harvest where I call home.



For those who may be unfamiliar, it's the time of year wherein the farmers collect their crops from the fields, take them home, to later sell their bounty to the masses. In short, they gather the grains that feed a good chunk of the world.

This inevitably means that there will be equipment being moved, everywhere, all the time. Again, for those unfamiliar, by 'equipment' I'm referring to machinery the size of a small apartment complex. They are huge, slow, hold up traffic, and absolutely necessary.

To the farmers. Please be patient. If people honk, or give one-fingered salutes, or otherwise act like jackasses, be patient. They don't really mean it, they're just late for work, scared they're going to be late, they are frustrated.

To everyone else. Please be patient. They aren't moving this equipment around for the sole purpose of being a pain in your ass. These next few days or weeks dictate their income for the entire year. There are no do-overs or extensions. Their livelihood balances on the tip of a rain gauge. Yes, they choose this life, but they do not deserve your finger, a thank you, maybe, but not your finger. Be patient.


It's time for Pumpkin spice everything where I call home.


You know Fall is on the horizon when the Pumpkin Spice army attacks. The lattes, teas, drizzle, ice coffees, doughnuts...

I, personally, love pumpkin. Real, actual, pumpkin. I'm not sure what "Pumpkin spice" is? Is it a combination of the spices you would put in a pumpkin pie? Does 'Pumpkin Spice' actually contain pumpkin? These are not rhetorical questions, I truly want to know.

As I walk this earth, celebrating Fall "Pumpkin Spice" free, don't judge me.



It's time for the limbo walk between Air Conditioning and Furnace where I call home.


This is where I could go on a menopausal rant about hot flashes, and about how wonderful it would be if you could wear an air conditioner like a backpack.


Today just isn't that day...



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May your first days back in school be magical, finding old friends, making new ones.
May the new things you learn light you up, excite your soul, create memories full of fun.

May you show kindness, be a good friend, include all who want to play.
May you be a good sport, even if the games don't always go your way.

May you know that everybody has bad days, days they feel all alone.
May you know in your heart that other days will be better, you are never truly on your own.

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Until next time

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The Sun Sets On Yet Another Precious Life...

Hi.


Those who read these ramblings with any regularity know I come from a big family.


With that comes a lot of joy. New babies, weddings, birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, reunions, blue ribbons, scholarships, and a million other joy-filled moments.


Sadly, when you come from a family like this, it also means saying good-bye... a lot.

This week we lost another jewel from the family crown.

Always ready with a smile, a hug, and an ear. A lady, always, but never afraid to say what was on her mind.

Spending time with her meant an inevitable sing-a-long, some laughter, and probably, a bit of mischief.

She had a spark and a sparkle the was inherently her. She's gonna make one hell of an angel.

Auntie Cathy is going to be missed every day by many, most deeply by her favourite few.

When someone is gone we are never left with the feeling that we spent too much time with them, we created too many memories, shared too many stories, too many laughs, too many hugs.


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These good-byes carry with them a reminder to live our lives at full throttle. A reminder to get out of the bleachers. A reminder that life is more than work and sleep. A reminder that although life has its 'have-to's', those 'have-to's' are but a means to the 'want-to's'.

Be spontaneous, participate full-heartedly in shenanigans, try something new, meet new people, hang out with friends, play games, make up games, make a ton of popcorn and settle in for a movie marathon,  have fun,, whatever that is for you.

We honour those who go before us best by never taking for granted the time we have. Relish in it, celebrate it, live it completely.


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May those who will miss you most find a way through this fog of utter heartache.
May the days to come get a little lighter, with unforced smiles, voices with a little less shake.

May thoughts of her bring smiles, even if veiled through tears.
May the best memories flood your cheeks, ones of shared joys, shared fears.

May celebrating her spark, in some small way, make this heartbreak less painful.
May the universe understand that in this jewel it is gaining one hell of an angel.


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Until next time...

www.margyreidbooks.com

Sometimes You Just Need Is A Midnight Walk And A Cookie...

Hi!


There is so much going on, sometimes it's hard to find peace.


The shootings, the greed that keeps them from stopping, the double talk, the lies, and the lack of logic that drives them.

The growing boldness of racism. The seeming confusion of its definition. Just because you aren't actively burning crosses on people's lawns, or lynching them in trees doesn't mean it isn't racist.

I had a friend, a Trump supporter, ask me to cite one instance in which he showed racist language or actions. I listed several, both past and present.

Her defense then turned to the old adage of "every time you disagree with someone of colour, you're labeled a racist."

This is why that is bull. He's a racist.

You don't have to do a lot of research to have that fact become blatantly clear.

His policies- how many blond, blue-eyed people are being detained and stripped from their children.
Do you honestly believe all illegal immigrants are brown?

His history- trying to keep people of color from renting his properties, the whole Obama birther issue, the central park five, and those are just the top three.

His words- "infestation", "invasion", "go back from where you came", "Why are we having all these people from shithole countries coming here? We should have more people from places like Norway." Referred to a Latina Miss Universe as "Miss Housekeeping." "Look at my African-American over here,. Look at him." "These aren't people, these are animals." The list is endless, and makes me sick to my stomach.

Disagreeing with someone of colour doesn't make you a racist. Being a racist makes you a racist.


I'm not asking you to take my word for it. All I'm asking is that you look beyond the burning crosses, and blatant use of the "N" word.  The language is slightly more subtle now, the crosses, cages filled with babies.

Conservatism is being redefined behind your back. It used to be a term defined by a commitment to traditional values and ideas with opposition to change or innovation. Straight-laced, buttoned-up.

What does is truly represent anymore? A blind eye to anything that will inhibit the lining of the pockets of the already rich? A guy who filed bankruptcy multiple times touting himself as some sort of savior for the blue collared folks who have generationally worked hard for everything they have, the same blue-collared people he screwed over in so many of his ventures? He does all of this, praising his supposed business prowess, all while working lawyers overtime on the taxpayers' dollar to keep his income tax returns from coming to light. Don't you find yourself asking why?

Why has he put so much effort into hiding information? Tax returns, refusing to be interviewed by Meuller, doing everything he can to keep others from testifying in front of congress, confiscating notes from an interpreter after a meeting with Putin. This list is also endless and almost as sickening.

After bathing in conspiracy theories, spraying himself down with the stench of racism, and caressing his delusions in the mirror every morning, he unlocks his phone, fashioning his 280 characters into what he thinks the new brand of conservatism wants to hear, dragging the dignity of his position through his sewer of lies. He feeds you shit and tells you its truffles, and you eat it up, asking for more.

It's comical how he tries to make people think that kneeling for the Anthem is worse than what he does every...single...day.

Conservatism is being redefined behind your back.


There is so much going on, sometimes it's hard to find peace.


Sometimes, you just need a midnight walk and a cookie. Tomorrow is another day.


*****************************************************************



May those who don't see it, come to realize we are all one race, regardless of levels of melanin, or place of birth.
May those who don't see it, come to realize that the thickness of your portfolio has nothing to do with your worth.

May the world become a more peaceful place, a celebration of cultural differences, with less "yours" and "mine", more "ours."
May our elected leaders do what they are elected to do, lead, doing what's best for all, not just the bootlickers of your powers.

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until next time...

www.margyreidbooks.com