Gold. That's ME! According to the True Colors Workshop anyway.
Golds need structure. I make lists, both written and mental, and follow them with a precision that can be quite scary. An unplanned event? My list is toast and it throws my emotional equilibrium into a tailspin. Trying to squish "unplanned event" between the groceries and laundry is akin to adding a step to a ladder. Not in this lifetime! Vacation without an itinerary? Not on my watch! Left my grocery list at home? Instant panic-that's why cell phones were invented, I'm sure. Sudden changes cause the "gold" part of me to short-circuit.
Golds need structure. I make lists, both written and mental, and follow them with a precision that can be quite scary. An unplanned event? My list is toast and it throws my emotional equilibrium into a tailspin. Trying to squish "unplanned event" between the groceries and laundry is akin to adding a step to a ladder. Not in this lifetime! Vacation without an itinerary? Not on my watch! Left my grocery list at home? Instant panic-that's why cell phones were invented, I'm sure. Sudden changes cause the "gold" part of me to short-circuit.
Recent events in Boston threw me into freak-out mode. In a single heartbeat, my lists were long forgotten. Daily activities? I sputtered around in a haze. I'm a writer, yet words failed me. The thinking part of my brain went numb. The affects of the bombings--like the events of 9-11, Columbine, Sandy Hood, the Oklahoma City bombings--were heard around the world and resonated as a dull ache in my heart. My lists--my world--seemed small and unimportant compared to those that shook the core of our country. The "gold" part of me wants to somehow control these things, to put them back in order. But I can't. I was helpless to do anything but mourn and pray for the victims and their families and ask God, why?
I can't control what other people do even though that stubborn "gold" part of me wants to. It's a horrible trait to try to put to bed, but sometimes a little distraction is what I need. Enter Arlene--my writer buddy who had the selfless idea to drive two hours to take me away--just for the day--to get back on track, at least with my writing. We wrote together, went to lunch, chatted and saw a movie she had already seen. For a few hours I was able to forget the world and break the writing barrier. Arlene was my savior.
A few days before we celebrated the birth of this great country, another tragedy struck. All of Arizona fell to her knees. Nineteen Hot Shot firefighters lost their lives battling the Yarnell fire near Wickenburg, Arizona. It made national news, but my brother in Canada hadn't heard of the tragedy. Nineteen lives lost, yet it wasn't newsworthy enough to breach the international lines. I suppose one could justify it by saying fire isn't a terrorist. Or a crazed shooter. But it is a killer nonetheless. And again, I was numb.
I can't control what other people do even though that stubborn "gold" part of me wants to. It's a horrible trait to try to put to bed, but sometimes a little distraction is what I need. Enter Arlene--my writer buddy who had the selfless idea to drive two hours to take me away--just for the day--to get back on track, at least with my writing. We wrote together, went to lunch, chatted and saw a movie she had already seen. For a few hours I was able to forget the world and break the writing barrier. Arlene was my savior.
A few days before we celebrated the birth of this great country, another tragedy struck. All of Arizona fell to her knees. Nineteen Hot Shot firefighters lost their lives battling the Yarnell fire near Wickenburg, Arizona. It made national news, but my brother in Canada hadn't heard of the tragedy. Nineteen lives lost, yet it wasn't newsworthy enough to breach the international lines. I suppose one could justify it by saying fire isn't a terrorist. Or a crazed shooter. But it is a killer nonetheless. And again, I was numb.
I'm a writer. Writers create worlds in which to escape. My writing IS my escape. When I can't write, the world closes in and seems to suffocate the part of my brain that creates. But thanks to Arlene, I learned I could wade through this latest tragedy on my own. I'm finally beginning to realize--yeah, it takes me awhile--that it's okay to stray from my lists. There are important things each of us need to prioritize and process in our own way--to allow for the flexibility to stop and let something--or someone--squeeze their way to the top of our list. Eventually, the ship rights itself, catches the waves and we move on. It's the way of the world.
I doubt if I'll ever stop making "lists". And I doubt if I'll ever stop trying to control things in my life. That's just me. But sometimes a little shove is all it takes to keep going in the right direction. I have Arlene to thank for that. Thanks, kiddo. Cheers.
The unexpected will continue to weasel its way into my lists and send me into a tailspin. Oh--did I mention our master bathroom sustained several thousand dollars worth of water damage and there is now a gaping hole where the shower used to be? And our son brought home a new puppy? (Breathe, Susie, breathe!) If I swear all is "golden" would you believe me? I thought not. I have several wadded up lists lining the trash can.
So, here we go again...my head feels like a rogue carousel on steroids. I was perfectly happy with two bathrooms that worked and one dog who doesn't poop on the floor. Did I mention golds don't like change?
If I can squeeze it between items three and four on my list, you won't want to miss my next blog.
Until then,
Happy Reading, Happy Writing!
Susie
I doubt if I'll ever stop making "lists". And I doubt if I'll ever stop trying to control things in my life. That's just me. But sometimes a little shove is all it takes to keep going in the right direction. I have Arlene to thank for that. Thanks, kiddo. Cheers.
The unexpected will continue to weasel its way into my lists and send me into a tailspin. Oh--did I mention our master bathroom sustained several thousand dollars worth of water damage and there is now a gaping hole where the shower used to be? And our son brought home a new puppy? (Breathe, Susie, breathe!) If I swear all is "golden" would you believe me? I thought not. I have several wadded up lists lining the trash can.
So, here we go again...my head feels like a rogue carousel on steroids. I was perfectly happy with two bathrooms that worked and one dog who doesn't poop on the floor. Did I mention golds don't like change?
If I can squeeze it between items three and four on my list, you won't want to miss my next blog.
Until then,
Happy Reading, Happy Writing!
Susie
Gold Word photo courtesy of Stuart Miles
Valentine's Day gold hearts photo courtesy of africa
Paper Texture With Roses photo courtesy of thaikrit
Photos available at www.FreeDigitalPhotos.net
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