I never left the state of Colorado until I was around 19 years old, and then it was to Kansas, the state to the East of Colorado. I grew up on a small farm/ranch in Colorado, and my big dream was to go to Disney Land. That particular destination is now my least favorite; I much prefer natural wonders like Grand Canyon, Yellowstone and Mesa Verde.

When I met my husband, he wanted to travel, and that’s when it all began. Unlike a lot of people, I never really said, “I want to travel the world.”

I’m glad I have. My husband has taken me to numerous states (in all meanings of the word), countries including Egypt, France (and all over Europe), Russia (okay, it was included in the cruise), Ireland, England, Scotland, Mexico (that’s as far south as I got), and many more places that I have to look at pictures to remember.

I love that he introduced me to travel; it has broadened my views of other people and cultures, introduced me to new foods, new animals, new people.

Can’t wait for June–Japan. Excuse my “humble brag.”

My primary career job (until I eased into writing), was as a software engineer and later Project Manager. I started out as a (confession here) EEOC aka DEI hire into a group of 10 women who were recent college graduates. I went through 3 months of training, and ended up doing software programming, not easy for someone with a decided number dyslexia. However, the programming language was COBOL, otherwise known as Common Business Language. That I could handle. My name most likely still lies unassuming in numerous programs used by still existing telecoms.

The point is, this work was hard for me. I spent hours taking home printouts of enormous computer programs, trying to find the “needle in the haystack” of whatever mistake I had made. Even harder, I think, is navigating the ocean of APPS, web-sites, portals, phone situations—on and on.

Nothing works the same way twice, it seems, and once you get it working, it changes. I’m writing this after spending a half day getting into yet another website that had changed without any notification.

I’m no dummy, but it seems like some of these new technologies make our lives harder, not easier.

Let’s don’t even talk about the situations with young kids and games and websites and bullying and body image….

To have a “trigger” is a relatively new term defining that “thing” that instills a negative response in you, such as fear, anxiety, anger or a feeling of dread or sickness.

Here is a definition (according to some AI): A “glimmer” in response to a trigger is a small, positive moment or sensation that can counteract the negative effects of a trigger, essentially acting as a calming cue that helps to regulate your nervous system and bring you back to a sense of safety, as opposed to a trigger which would evoke a stressful response; they are considered the opposite of triggers, sparking feelings of peace and joy instead of anxiety or distress. 

We all have triggers, some of them very serious, some mild. For instance, I have mild triggers to certain words or phrases (such as people using grammar improperly), the sound of someone’s voice on the news, certain smells, certain sounds.

Some serious triggers might cause real fear and panic attacks, real sadness and depression, and might cause negative responses such as over-drinking and drugging and “taking it out on others.”

I’ve talked about it before, but some of my serious triggers (although only medium in seriousness, if you will), are people asking me about my experience being a teen mom, asking me to recount when my youngest daughter was seriously ill, or remembering something someone said to me. My children (2 daughters) most likely have triggers from being raised by a very young and inexperienced single mother, and the younger daughter having to move to a new area after my marriage. Lots of glimmers needed there on their part. I’m proud of both of them and how resilient and self-reliant they are.

I’m lucky in that I have a short little range of emotions. I’m like a Golden Retriever most of the time; lah-de-dah happy and easy to please. If I get depressed, it’s mild and I can easily work my way out of it. A walk. A donut. A smile. A glimmer.

My husband brought up the fact that he saw an article about “glimmers” and how they are the opposite of triggers. We can pull them up any time. Use them. For instance, if a word triggers you, or the news, or an angry driver trying to annoy you, bring into your mind something you love; you dog, your partner or spouse, your children, your health.

I think a glimmer might be akin to gratitude.

I also think binging series or movies might be “big glimmers.”

It’s no wonder that when you think of the word “glimmer,” you think of hope.

There’s a glimmer out there for all of us.

My DH read a “gem” about how fleeting time is: “Time is like a roll of toilet paper; the closer you get to the end, the faster it goes.”

Why is that? Not only the days go faster, but the months and years. It’s frightening to notice your children are no longer children; you are no longer young, and you’re too old for “early onset” anything.

My resolutions for 2025; try to slow down time; use time wisely, move faster (than time) on remaining goals.

One thing about age (for me); you’re never done with your goals. There is going to be those scraps of “tp” left unused at the end of our days.

I intend to make it many more days and use up all the TP.

Sorry for the visual.

Has a good “ring” to it. two 2’s a 5 and a 0.

I usually, like most people set new goals on this day.

One of my most important (to me); don’t listen to talking-head news. I’m my own expert (in my own mind).

I’ll read headlines each day but limit it to one website, such as CNN.

The others are now noise to me instead of news.

If I can regain some productivity by not caring as much about what other people think is going to happen versus what actually happens, good on me.

By keeping this resolution, I can replace the time I gain with productive things; writing a couple books I’m working on, improving my exercise and strength routines, spending more time with DH, daughters and grands (if they are willing), traveling.

There’s so much more to do that doesn’t involve me reading comments on articles that may or may not be true, looking up celebrities or listening to political commentary.

I think it’s taken me a lifetime to discern the difference between a wish and a dream (and hope?).

I remember as a child thinking, “I hope I’m rich when I grow up. I hope I’m famous.” Not that I, a girl who grew up on a farm, knew about being rich and famous, only that it seemed like a good thing, or that I’d heard someone say it.

It took me dragging myself through four and the six years of college (years longer than it should), to learn that for a wish or dream to come to fruition, one has to set goals, sometimes smaller and then larger and larger goals. Step by step, goals help wishes and dreams to come true. Hope has only a small part in the process. So does wishing and dreaming.

Sometimes our dreams and wishes come true in ways we can’t imagine. Being rich is relative. How much do you need to be rich? Is money the only thing that would make you rich? How much would make me happy? Do I need a happy marriage to make me happy? (I decided I do–and that dream has come true). Will having things make me happy? (not as much as I thought).

When I was a child, my wishes and dreams were not as specific as some. For instance, I had a friend who had some talent with singing and she hoped to be an opera star. Is she? Most likely not, but her talent probably took her a long way through life, and perhaps she became a music teacher or a song writer. Or, maybe she’d surprise me (if I looked her up, which I may do), and became an opera star after all.

I had a family, like many, that didn’t tell us, that we can be whatever we want to be. They believed that to be a good person, to marry a good person and have a good family, was good enough. And, it is a good thing. Those are good things.

But, a person can wish, hope and dream. And, set goals and make them come to fruition in some way or another.

“Writing is easy—all you have to do is cross out all the wrong words. “ Mark Twain

This is similar to a sculputr’s quote if you’re sculpting a horse, whittle away all the parts that don’t look like a horse.

Ah, if only writing (and speaking) were so easy.

I heard all my life, usually in third person, “she’s so quiet,” while the person speaking is look at my mother, my teacher, my friend. I learned later that my quietness, which sometimes neared mutism or at least selective mutism, was probably due to hereditary shyness and introversion.

Many writers are introverts (that’s why many do not like doing public readings and book signings), but my introversion sometimes became pathological. I would often wonder when I would be able to say those words that I wanted to say, express those feelings, tell people why I had done certain things that I did. Often, there were no words, and often, I felt that my epitaph (I don’t want one, by the way), would be: “she was so quiet.”

So, I relate to writers who, sometimes later in life, find their voice, whatever that may be, however that may express itself. Science Fiction, Mystery, Women’s Fiction, Men in Jeopardy (it is now a genre, I hear), children’s books, non-fiction, even public speaking.

I have few regrets in my life, mostly minor ones as I wouldn’t dare change any big decisions in my life lest things turned out differently than they do now. I am grateful for my life every single day and for the people who have come along on this journey with me. I am grateful for every single thing I have and for every person who has helped me along the way.

One regret though is that I couldn’t or wasn’t able to express to people how I felt, about them or about something I had done to them, or they to me. To all those people, I say, “Thank you, I love you, please forgive me, I forgive you, please hear me.”

One way I can express those things is through writing.

I come from a family that had limited communication; didn’t hear those three little words that I had to teach myself how to say: “I love you,” “I am sorry.”

There are other non-spoken words that I trained myself by listening to others and to reading over the years. My parents came from ancestors that were taught not to talk about feelings, never to say “sorry” or admit wrong (remind you of anyone?), or be too affectionate. Once I learned to say, “I’m sorry,” it seemed I couldn’t quit saying it, so that now I say it entirely too often (as do my kids, I think). I think I’ll back off that one a bit and say “I love you” more often.

I got to thinking about the words we use today for our mental health that were not uttered when I grew up: triggered, depressed, relationship, A.D.D. (I think I have that), cancelled, stay-at-home mom or dad, and many more.

I am following on Insta dogs who are learning to talk using buttons that their owners put out for them to describe what they want. I imagine a dog of mine would push the “walk” and “cookie” buttons over and over, but some of these dogs push “sad” and “happy” and “hurt” buttons. This speaks to how emotive dogs are. Helpful, I suppose, but what do we do when our dog is sad? Cats, by the way, seem to press the Starbucks Pup Cup button almost all the time. Does that mean they don’t have feelings, or do they prefer to keep those feelings to themselves?

Maybe we need “people” buttons that allow the person to say “triggered” or “depressed.”

I am only partially being cynical. I think it’s healthy for people to express their feelings and ask for help.

Then, again, let’s toughen up just a bit.

My husband and I play a word game called, “you can write that book,” borrowed from his company’s work team (who are mostly musicians–my husband loves music and plays guitar and Ukelele). The work team’s game is “I’d play in that band,” and it uses phrases that come up every day that might make a good band name.

You Can Write that Book came about because I love, love coming up with book titles. Sometimes I don’t have an actual plot or even reason for the book, but think it might be a good title. Case in point, “A Murder of Crows.” It’s a collective noun, and there are many which could be used as mystery titles. I’ve yet to come up with a writable plot for the title, however. So, I tell my husband, “you can write that book.”

Sometimes one of us will say something we deem “title-worthy,” and the other will say, “you can write that book.”

Neither of us may or may not write any of the books for which I have titles floating around in my head. But, it makes me wonder as writers whether more writers start with titles rather than plots?

I don’t know, but if you, dear reader, want to write that book, go ahead.

Most books on editing your writing talk about “cutting your darlings,” which is like film-editing whereby loved scenes end up on the cutting-room floor.

Most writers have phrases or dialogue running through their heads that they are “dying” to put into a book, character dialogue or essay. Sometimes it’s something brilliant, but most of the time it’s brilliant in the mind of the writer. Thus, these things should be cut.

I don’t sent them to the proverbial trash bin, however, I have a file of “darlings,” sometimes for each piece I’m working on and sometimes I’m not working on anything appropriate for a darling.

One such thing that I keep trying (and failing to use), is the concept of “collective nouns”, such as “a murder of crows or a charm of hummingbirds.” I keep trying to fit it into a novel, and it never seems to work. I even have a novel in my “unfinished and unlikely to finish file,” named “A Murder of Crows.” I also think it’s been used a few times as a mystery title. It may be my most persistent “darling.”

My husband doesn’t throw out anything, so I’m trying to take a lesson from him. He is a master of reusing his writing and ideas across book. Of course, it’s easier to do that with non-fiction. I don’t like clutter, so I tend to throw out all things I deem of little use anymore. Now, I’m trying to save more ideas, words, titles. After all, clutter that is confined to a file or other electronic storage doesn’t need to take up space or bother me at all.

Speaking of editing, I love this site that deals with all types of writing “problems.” The owner of the site is related to Charles Darwin, and her last name IS Darwin. bit.ly/4d4WSeS