Something Miraculous Happened

The law of giving works! As a child, I learned a song called "Love is something if you give it away, it comes right back to you." The beginning of this year, I promised myself to give back to those who gave to me. When I self-published Day Laughs Night Cries: Fifteen with little marketing skills, Sherry Ellis was one of the first bloggers to acknowledge my book, even letting me know it existed in places I didn't know existed. She gave ratings on Shelfari and Barnes and Noble and wrote reviews on Goodreads and Amazon. I did not scream, "Thank you, Sherry." In my heart, I wanted to return the love, not because I felt I had to, but because she sincerely did something for me and I knew how important this kind of service was for writers.

I decided to return the love by buying Sherry's books and reviewing them. I read the books and waited for the perfect time to review them, which never came until almost two years later—a week ago. I had given back. Yet, for me, the law of giving was not completed. Since I did not blog frequently (9 posts last year) and I had/have a small group of blogger friends, I was/am not a "big fish" on the internet who received hundreds or thousands of views each day. However, something miraculous happened when I wrote the two brief reviews of Sherry’s books That Mama is a Grouch and That Baby Woke Me Up, Again!. My blog crashed. Ok, that's a big lie. I had almost two hundred views the first day and the next day I had almost 550 views. It dwindled after that but was still high.

I think the reason for the page-view spike was Google plus. See the arrow. Sherry's friends supported her, which in turn supported me. Support your blog colleagues and give back. Love returns to you—sometimes in abundance—when you give it away. I do believe in the law of giving. Thank you, Sherry.

Here is an interesting post I read today: Best Seller Labs
Day Laughs Night Cries official website is up again - will be modified soon.

"Live Like You Were Dying" - Dying From Cancer

Terry Fox, Thunder Bay, Canada

Can you "live like you were dying, meaning having fun or doing "things" you wouldn't have done but you do them because you have a terminal illness? Some people say it depends on the situation. Some people say you can.  Some dying people become kinder and more loving. Some, like Terry Fox, do great things.  Do we truly know how they feel?  Do they honestly tell us what they think?

In the true sense of the phrase, I declare that most people who are dying do not try to live as though they are dying. They just live. The man who's given two weeks after a medical diagnosis cannot truly live as if he's dying.  The thought of dying probably makes him dead even as he laughs.  He has no control over his fate.

Myrtle Beach, South Carolina

I'm not saying that most dying people don't make plans and don't go out.  And maybe I'm even presumptuous to attempt writing about this topic. But I've seen much and I've heard many stories.

Dunn's River, St Ann, Jamaica

When my mother first realized that her cancer had spread, I bought the "live like you were dying idea."  I told her to buy clothes, travel (go to places she did not know), enjoy life, and cherish the last moments.  Being with her, doing all of those things felt weird because I knew and she knew--and I had never forgotten why we were doing certain things.

I now see some of those things she did as masquerades over feelings. Masks.  The masking of blank stares and sadness that her slow death did not reveal until the the cancer loomed over her like a hawk over carcass. Under the masks were fears and tears and pain and sadness, feelings too sad to express.

When my radio coach found out he would not get a lung transplant to save his life, he gave up living.  His soul died, I think.  I observed him.  Happiness walked out his door.  He lived for each moment he got.  When my sister's cancer returned like a tsunami, I saw unspeakable sorrow in her eyes as she waited to die.  When the doctor gave my mother three months, I saw life pulled from her.  She died before she was pronounced dead.

Washington, District of Columbia

Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm foolish, maybe I'm grieving, maybe I'm just trying to come to grips with my own mortality, but I don't think dying people live as though they are dying--in the true sense of the phrase.  Dying people live thinking that they're already dead because all eyes are on them as everyone waits to witness the last minute, the last second, the last breath, the goodbye ritual.  Dying people know we wait to dispose their bodies.
Please tell me I'm wrong, that I'm taking a simple approach about a complicated matter, tell me that what I'm saying--does not make sense.  Enlighten me.  Please.

Here's an article about dying: The Waiting 
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Congratulations to everyone who completed the A - Z blog challenge.

Letting Go of the Past

Summer, autumn, now winter, I watch leaves as they cling to branches, some refusing to let go even after changing color. They hold on as long as they can, despite the whipping wind, despite the raging rain, despite the spitting snow.

I watch leaves on trees dry and curl to a crisp in the cold.  I don't know why they won't let go.  I hope to free myself from obstacles, from self-destructive behaviors. 

I'm not making any kind of resolution this year, but I hope to cling to the peace that rests in my soul, and let go of the withered leaves that grip the branches in the bitter cold.

I can see how my life correlates to my discovery  of the trees I view from summer to winter.  Even when I'm tired and have little strength to endure, I sometimes still hold on.  And sometimes I cling aimlessly unto the branches in my troubled soul, as trying to let go isn't always easy, I know.

I can take comfort knowing that I can cling to the past or let go when I know it's wrong as I search for peace, or I replace a void, or I gain immediate satisfaction.  Sounds contradictory? Maybe.  What's important is how I deal with the consequences or how the consequences affect me.

Whatever path I take, it's okay, as long as I learn that seasonal changes are like life changes.  And, like leaves, I can cling, sometimes and I can let go, sometimes.



Let the leaves, trees, and the seasons teach us lessons in our everyday actions as we journey through life.

Goodbye Grief, Find Joy Again

I'm bursting with excitement, energy, and a new reason to write.  For months I could only blog as my energy or desire to do other things had left me, maybe due to my mom's illness, and then her death. Many things happened this year. I felt many things were taken from me and that I had regressed about ten years in my past, although I pretended otherwise.

My partner spoke to me yesterday.  He said I have much going for me even if everything else was taken away, and I wanted to hear what was included in the "much."  He reminded me about one of my biggest assets—my ability to write.  He said no one can take away my power to write and that I should continue to write.  He said I should write a commitment to myself that I’ll continue to write and complete my book. I went to the gym and worked on my manuscript when I returned home. My partner's words gave me confidence, affirmation to believe in myself even when my reality seemed to rest in a discombobulated state.

Goodbye grief, hello to writing, to the completion of my manuscript.
Update
I completed my manuascript - the book now titled Day Laughs Night Cries: Fifteen
To Others
When life seems unbearble, don't quit. The good times will return. You'll find joy again. Yes. You Will.