Writing is like driving at night in the fog.
You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.
– E. L. Doctorow
Today is Day 90 of the 2020 Daily Writing Challenge.
Did you write yesterday? Life is an endless parade of challenges, exciting experiences, and thrilling activities all competing for your time, attention, and energy. The glitter and glam captures your attention, turns your head, and you forget about doing what makes you happy. While having multiple interests speaks to your personal freedom and your right to choose, the fragmented focus can keep you from following your passion and derail the attainment of your goals.
What activity lights your eyes, sets fire to your soul, and penetrates every fiber of your being? If it makes you happy to sing, then sing. If your feet yearn to dance, allow them to…
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Image and Poem Attribution © goffjamesart/photography/poetry
All rights reserved
“You had everyone fooled.
And you may not have realized it,
but I saw you for what you were.”
You never accepted the faults you made. And apologies were only for empathy’s sake. Then swept all your wrongdoings under the rug as if they didn’t exist.
Because how could you ever be considered such a hurtful person if your façade was unblemished?
But what I don’t understand is how you did those things and pretended nothing happened. That all was well. How could you lie so smoothly, like rainbows were flying out of your mouth? You had everyone fooled. And you may not have realized it, but I saw you for what you were.
© Sarah Doughty
I still see you.
There is something beautiful about people
who lose themselves
when they lose someone.
The layer of sanity that cracks,
the heart that lets the past take over-
is a feeling I would never understand.
And all I do in such weather
for my coping mechanism to kick in,
to take the decision away from me,
and let me forget the meaning of loss.
I read another funeral in my lines of fate,
another goodbye in the text not returned,
another scene with poor lighting
standing where I would be least hurt,
saying words I do not mean,
words that go well with my rock heart-
staying true to my widely advertised image.
But I am not unfamiliar with wet cheeks and sleep that follows.
I have cried for minor cuts and burning bruises,
at the wrong weather, at the curbs on my freedom,
in the argument that…
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going through boxes of our past
memories fall out
strewn across the floor
through my hands
photographs and mementos
no longer hold any meaning
a lack of feeling pervades
my state of mind
there was something there
before and now
boxes on the curb
taken away with last night’s pizza box
© 2020 Jason A. Muckley
Focus and my ability to concentrate is in short supply. Uncertainty messes with my brain, but world events needn’t derail my desire to be productive. Easier said than done, right? Focus behaves like a muscle. The more I exercise it, the stronger and less painful concentrating becomes. The problem is starting.
When life gets stressful, I resort to Warren Buffett’s Two-List strategy. His directions say to create a detail list of 25 things I wish to accomplish. Long-term goals are proving too difficult to consider, so I fixate on this week. Completing the list is challenging, but I won’t be dissuaded. Eventually, my paper details a wide variety of tasks from housework, to writing posts.
With my twenty-five complied, I narrow the field to my five most important desires. Buffet says to set aside the remaining twenty, and he forbids dabbling with List 2 tasks until List 1 is done…
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