Dear Future Me…

Have you ever thought of what you’d like to tell the future you? It’s not as easy as you might think. This could cause you to think long and hard for days and still not have a solid answer. I know it did for me. Was it the future me next year? Five years from now? Or fifty years from now?

No Matter What Year

Which future me am I writing to? It doesn’t matter. The future me knows what I’m going through right now and all the time between now and then. I currently have no idea what will happen in the next half hour much less next month. So, this is for all the future me’s.

Be What You Want To Be

I look back over my past and realize that the real me had been lost. The me I was as a child has been stomped on and reshaped to fit what those around me and society wanted. Shyness enveloped me, and I began to do whatever I could to make others happy.

I kept my humor in check around certain people. Why? It’s not because my humor was crude. In fact, it was far from it. It tended to be more sarcastic which some people can’t seem to get. But as I began to let my humor come out, I found myself happier. I was being me.

No matter what happens or who is around you, don’t let them change you. Yes, you can learn from them to be a better person, but don’t let their opinions and rules change the core of you. Be funny if you want to. Enjoy what makes you happy.

Remember Who You Were

Don’t forget the past. Yes, I know we can’t let the past define us or let it dictate our future, but I firmly believe it can’t be forgotten. By doing so, I’ve found it has bitten me in the rear. Don’t let it keep doing it to you.

When we forget who we were, we tend to return to that old self, good or bad. We forget the mistakes we made, and we are bound to repeat them. That is something we want to avoid.

Remember how being shy and backwards held you back.

Remember that most people don’t change.

Remember that when people come after you that they are jealous.

Remember that only you can create happiness within yourself.

Remember all the times you regret not taking chances.

Forgive Me

Let me say that I’m very sorry for what I have done and am about to do. I might not realize how painful my actions were until the future me is reading this. I am human. Mistakes are made by me everyday. I might not realize the damage most of them do until years down the road.

I’m sorry.

I think the hardest person to forgive is ourselves. We live with the pain and guilt in a way that nobody else can. We dwell on it and think that nobody is as bad as we are. I’m not saying not to feel bad about something you have done. I’m saying that you need to move on eventually.

Forgive me for making the right decision.

Forgive me for taking chances.

Forgive me for not knowing what you know now.

Live Life

I have decided that I want my gravestone to say “Whew! That was one hell of a ride!” I’ve been so scared to live my life because everyone says I should be cautious and do what they want. Don’t do that. Live your life the way you want.

It is hard to it, I know. Fear takes over me/you just when you have the opportunity. That has happened all through your life. Maybe by the time you read this, you understand it a little more than I do now. I want to be adventurous, but am I up to it? I hope that you read this and scoff at my fear. That would mean you have overcome it and are living life. I hope that is the case. We should be able to meet life head on and enjoy the ride.

Now I’m off to become the me you are now.


How Playing Devil’s Advocate Taught My Children to Think for Themselves

The more I interact with others in the world, the more I realize that people can’t think for themselves. The ability to think logically and come up with individual opinions is practically non-existent. The average person is pulled along by the nose-ring by the media, political parties, or just the wave of public opinion. It saddens me greatly. I wanted my children to rise above and use the brains God gave them. I think I mostly succeeded mainly by playing Devil’s Advocate.

As early as grade school, I’d push my children to think. They’d be writing a paper and ask me to look over it to see if there were glaring mistakes. I took that opportunity each time to take the opposite stance and ask questions. At first, they were always defensive but then they began to think and challenge me. After all, they want to prove Mom wrong. The end result was them discovering new points to put in their paper and make it better. On top of that, they understood their own stance better.

All of my children are young adults now. They have told me over and over how playing Devil’s Advocate really helped them. They even ask me to do it at times so they can see deeper into a subject they have to explore in school or work. There is less of that in our educational system or in society than there should be. We should be challenged but not to change our minds. The challenge should have a goal of making us understand the topics better and even understand ourselves at a deeper level.

I have played this role in political discussions, religions discussions, and even just on relationship topics. We get too caught up in our lives and can only see through our personal lens. When we step back and view the situation through the lens of others, our entire perspective can change. Our opinions might remain steadfast, but we can understand the other side better and even the stance we take.

I cannot tell you how many times I have been in conversation with someone who couldn’t answer intelligently why they feel the way they do on a particular topic.

Why are you against the death penalty?

Uh, my parents are for it so I’m against it.

What? That’s not an intelligent response. That proves that the person isn’t thinking on their own. That’s how the masses followed Hitler and the lynch mobs of yesteryear. Brain activity was at a minimum. Why do you believe in this? Why do you not believe in that?

A recent conversation with someone showed how beneficial this can be. Before I tell you about it, I want you to not get hung up on the topic which is still a very heated one in today’s society. I want you to think of the process and the end result. So, this woman said that she was very angry at then President Trump just shrugged off his comments that were derogatory towards women. She kept saying, “He didn’t even apologize once he knew how angry everyone was about what he said.” So I asked, would you forgive him or think differently of him if he did.” That stopped her cold. She wasn’t sure. She knew what she wanted and could mostly explain why, but she had no idea if getting it would satisfy her. Later, she told me that she would think better of him if he did, but that she really had no idea until I played Devil’s Advocate and pushed back. She would still not like him, but she’d have a tiny bit more respect and hope for him. The end result? She learned more about her own feelings. She grew as a person.

Try to argue or question from the other side of the issue. Get into deep but not heated discussions with others with some Devil’s Advocate games. Keep in mind that most people can’t think for themselves and can’t participate. Move on to those who can and watch each of you grow. I grow everyday as do my children. I love to watch my kids argue a point so well that they leave others speechless. They know what they believe and why. Do you?

Childhood Fears We Still Face – the Bogyman

Too often we think that childhood dreams and fears are lost when we become adults. But the truth is that they do follow us, just in different forms than we originally imagined them. Fears are always there. They develop along with us. One of these is the fear of the Bogyman.

Fears Are a Part of Life

There is a stigma against fears. There is nothing wrong with fear. We have it throughout our lives, and at times fear saves our lives. As a child, we have quite a bit of fear because there is so much in this world we don’t know anything about. Then again, there is so much we don’t fear because we don’t know the harm it can do to us. So maybe fear grows as we get older. but fear is always there.

As a child, I feared only what my older brother made me afraid of. I used to not fear the night until he told me Bigfoot was in the woods around our house. We lived way out in the country with only one light between the house and the barn. He told me that tale, and I was slightly skeptical. Then he suddenly wanted his hat that was in his “monster” truck. This desire came right before I was to get ready for bed. but my brother was eighteen years older than me, and I adored him. After this night, I began to hate him. He sent me out. The truck did have wheels that gave it a monster truck look. For a five or six year old, this truck was massive. I had to literally climb to get to the door and open it. Once I had his hat in hand, I began the climb down. My gangly legs hung down, searching for the ground. A growl and a rough hand. A scream. And he was rolling on the ground laughing at me while I screamed and sobbed. My mother about killed him, but then he held me close and soothed my tears. Jerk.

The Childhood Bogyphobia

The bogeyman of my childhood was mostly my brother. But every child has a bogyman. Some fear the creature they know lurks under their bed that will come out after they fall asleep and devour them. We have never seen him, but he is there. We’ve heard him. We’ve sensed him.

He could be in the closet or anywhere that is not easily accessible by lights or open for us to see clearly. It is the unknown that we fear. We just don’t see it in that frame of mind. We just know there are monsters out there just waiting to pounce on us. The we grew up and realize that the bogeyman is not under the bed or in the closet. He is everywhere else.

The Adult Bogyphobia

As adults, we laugh at the bogeyman under the bed. He’s not there. We’ve cleaned under there. We’ve searched. He’s not there, but then re realize that monsters come in many forms and can take up residence even in the brightest places right in plain sight. There are the monsters who are obvious once their true nature is revealed like violent criminals or serial killers who are caught. Then there are more subtle monsters.

Toxic people are adult bogymen. I began to develop bogyphobia in regards to them when depression began to set and the hurt of their disguised words was recognized. They can destroy self-esteem and even relationships and careers. There are times I begin to have physical reactions to the fear of being in the same room with these known bogymen. I’ll do anything to get away from them and find a safe place.

Then there is the bogeyman I found within myself. I could become my own worst monster. The number of times I was the reason for my own failure cannot be counted. I could discourage myself quicker than any bogeyman that roamed the world. I fear the unknown and what I’m not an “expert” in. That is quite a bit. I can’t control the future so tomorrow and next year could be a deep fear. I have low self-esteem so any comments to me or about me can be worse than the fear of being in a real scene from a Stephen King thriller. What I allow myself to be scared of can be stronger than any force on earth.

Overcoming Bogyphobia

As a child, we overcome our bogeyman fear by facing those fears and revealing the truth. We look under the bed with the flashlight or we fill the space with boxes so no creature can hide there. We open the closet and shine the light in. We might rearrange the closet to make it less inhabitable for a chronic bogeyman. Then we take the power from the bogeyman and make him become tiny, small, and eventually a thing of fairy tales. Adults do the same.

We are scared of that new career move, but we think of why we’ll be miserable avoiding it. Then we get our loved ones to help cheer us on. That bogeyman is overcome. Then we face the bogeyman of going back to school or the bogeyman of going to a party where we know not a single soul or the bogeyman of meeting that new future in-law. Bogymen exist everywhere and in every form. We face them. We remove them. They might still exist, but we don’t allow them to take over our lives.

I’m still facing the many bogeymen in my life. I’m still discovering ones that I didn’t know were lurking around. I continually go under my bed or into the closet to shine a light on the area and make it uninhabitable for my bogymen. But I will defeat each and every one.

Holiday Traditions I Miss From My Childhood


Most families have traditions during holiday times. They develop over the years and continue changing as the generations cycle. Some disappear completely.

Holidays go beyond Thanksgiving and Christmas. They include many days throughout the year. These all provided memories I look back on quite often.


My birthday was never a big event, but there was one thing my mother always did that was precious to me. She always made me a chocolate cake. Half had icing for my father who loved his sweets. The other half was for me without the icing. She did that every year for me when I lived at home. This past birthday, my youngest daughter made me a chocolate cake with no icing for me. That meant so much to me.


Each night before Easter, my mother would help me make a nest for the Easter Bunny. Yes, a nest. I would take my housecoat and create a snuggly nest at the foot of my bed. The next morning, I would find goodies for the famous critter. The nest was a critical part of that holiday for me as a child. I now have passed that on to my children. In fact, my youngest demanded I still do it her last Easter at home before she turned eighteen.

Fourth of July

Okay, my family didn’t do much for this holiday. We grilled out and watched the fireworks. The only thing I really remember is the sparklers we lit and ran around the yard with.


Back in the day…. Yes, I just dated myself. But when I was little, we went out trick or treating all by ourselves. My mom only accompanied me when we lived on the farm as she had to actually drive me to houses of people we knew to get that wonderful candy. Oh, the delicious popcorn ball I got at one house!!!!! Still think of how yummy that was. After we moved to a city, I went with just my friends in the neighborhood. You can’t do that anymore safely.

The best part was when I was done. I would spread my candy haul out on the kitchen table to sort. Then my father would sneak in and steal what he watned. I would yell at him. He would laugh and do it again.


This was when the family began the holiday gatherings. We usually gathered at our house and ate wonderful food. My favorite was a cranberry gelatin dish my grandfather loved. Mom made it every year even after he passed.

Aside from that one dish, I loved having the family together. We laughed. We made memories. We are continuing this with my family as we gather each year at my daughter’s to make all new memories.


This was much the same as Thanksgiving, but the memories here seem to be stronger. We always had Santa visit on Christmas Eve. I would try to spy him, but my family kept me occupied. Then I would sneak in to see my gifts from him. Such wonderful memories.

These memories became even more precious when my nieces came on the scene. We had such fun playing and being so innocent.

New Memories

As a child, I saw the world as wonderful. The innocence of a child can be strong. That is why so many childhood memories are precious to me. I loved thinking we all got along and all was well in the world. Wish it was that way again.

I Think I’m Haunted

No, I’m not crazy. Okay, maybe I am, but that is not the point here. The point is that I seriously think I’m haunted. There are voices in my head. They whisper in my ear. I have to be haunted.

In my free time, I’m a writer. That means not much time writing as I work full-time. Well, at least there is not much actual writing going on. But I hear the characters talk to me no matter what I’m doing, even moving product around the country.

Yes, I said they talk to me. I can be in the middle of processing an order for my day job. A whisper in my head creates a scene or an entirely new plot idea. I hear the characters tell me what they think should happen or how they want to develop. They don’t always agree with the way I see a story going. They tend to have their own opinions and like to voice them.

But the voices are not really why I think I’m haunted. It is the voices of past characters who keep coming back to remind me that they are not dead. Yep, their souls are still there and like to drop hints for more stories about them. Like I don’t have enough story ideas!!! They add to the list.

Characters never really leave for the fictional after-life. They stick around like ghosts. They are not solid, but their essence is there to torture you. I say torture because I have laid them to rest and moved on. But they refuse to just fade into the night. They persist to plot and scheme.

I don’t mean to complain. Their presence is not always terrifying as you expect from a haunting. There are times when they bring a smile to my face. I remember getting to know them and experiencing so many adventures with them. Oh, the memories!

Only writers can understand the idea of being haunted by fictional people. It is a most unique situations. I’m just glad my hauntings aren’t like King’s. That would be an experience I’d pass on.

I Think I’m Cursed When It Comes to Plans


I’ve been told my whole life to have a plan. There should be a plan for the next ten years, five years, twelve months, next week, and today. I do try to do this. I try to be good and make a plan. Then the curse descends.

I think I call on it by writing out my plan for the day or the week. So I plan it in my head. Nope! The curse still appears. I can never do what I plan to do.

I can plan to get the dishes done today. Oh, that won’t happen. Something will interfere. I know it will because it always does. An event will be sprung upon me by my daughter. My husband will be sick and have to go to the ER. It never fails.

Once, I was told that I exaggerated the chaos in my life. Then they spent an afternoon and evening with us and were shocked. I couldn’t get anything accomplished. All I did was put out fires. By the end of the night, I couldn’t do the things I knew needed to be done.

Today, I can plan to get an article written, do the dishes, and fold laundry. When I get home, we will have to run an errand, husband will be sick, daughter will need help with homework. Then I develop a headache. Nothing gets done.

My planning has a curse on it. I’m not sure who put it on me. I’d like for them to lift it. I’d like to get things done. As I’m writing this, I am getting work done online but nothing else. That is only because I’m home sick with the stomach flu. Not what I had planned.

I’m still told that success comes from planning. What they don’t ever talk about is what to do when the planning is interfered with. That is what I need advice for.

What do you feel cursed about? What seems to always go wrong for you?

I Thought I Knew What Scared Me


Too often, we think we know ourselves pretty well. After all, we are the only ones in our minds. Then we discover that we can even fool ourselves.

Snakes scare me to death. Even writing that sentence gave me the shivers. But now I find something that scares me more. Fear of not accomplishing everything I want before I die.

I’m middle-aged now. Suddenly, I see myself sliding down the hill instead of trudging upwards. There is no unlimited future in front of me. I see a time limit now. I fear not getting it all done.

I literally have a hundred or more story ideas to write. I have hundreds of crochet and knitting projects to attempt. Can I get them all done before I die?

I know it sounds crazy, but now that I’m nearly fifty, I wonder. I fear it. I don’t necessarily fear dying. I fear not doing everything I want to get done.

Have you ever had a deadline that was fast approaching? Panic usually accompanies that. I guess you could say that is similar to what I’m experiencing.

So, snakes still scare me. I can’t stand them, but I can avoid them. Time is something that nobody can avoid. What am I going to do? Make the best of it and get things done. Wish me luck.

Do Some People Have a Chance for a Good Life?

This was a question I was given during some research recently. At first, it was an easy answer. Then I paused. Maybe it wasn’t so easy. It really got me to thinking.

What is a Good Life?

Everyone’s defintion of a good life is different. For some, it is making it big and leaving their mark on the world. For others, it is having a ton of money and not want for anything. Then there are those who only want to be happy.

Before the main question can really be answered, the understanding of what is a good life is important. For this piece which is my answer to the question, I think of the good life as having food on the table, a roof over my head, and the ability to work.

Food on the Table

Every human should be able to eat each day and not go to bed hungry. Inadequate diet can lead to health issues and a shorter lifespan. A good life is being able to have a full belly.

Roof Over My Head

I have been homeless for a short spell. It is not fun. You have to move around a lot to avoid getting in trouble. You can’t have many necessities in life because you have to be mobile.

Ability to Work

Not being able to work can deeply impact a person. It prevents them from paying for food and a roof over their heads. It also gives a person a sense of value. Work is good for us.

The Key is the “Chance” for a Good Life

Not everyone gets these three things. Some don’t want them for one reason or another. The key here is the chance for that good life. If they have the chance, then they have the choice which makes it more valuable to us.

I think everyone should have this chance presented to them. They should have the chance to have food to eat each day. This is important for survival. They should have the chance to have a roof over their head. They should have the chance to work. No one should be excluded from any of these.

The “Other” Good Life

To many the good life is having money and not worrying how to pay the bills. I completely agree that this is a good interpretation of the good life. I have food everyday. I have a roof over my head, and I have the ability to work. It would be a very good life to not have to worry about paying the bills. Do I have a chance for that? Yes. I just have to work harder and smarter. The chance is there for anyone to have a good life no matter what the reasonable definition is.

I Need a Vacation From Life

Do you ever have those times when you just need to get away? Just going to the coffee shop won’t help. The stress of life is just minutes away, waiting to pounce on me. It’s not enough.

I need a vacation!!!!! From LIFE!!!!!

Think of all the stresses from life. They come in various forms, twenty-four seven.

Work – This stress takes up most of my days. I go to work and deal with idiots. Okay, not all are idiots, but I think there are a good number. I have to repeat myself over and over because a few people don’t know how to read their emails. Then there are the drama queens and those who try to throw you under the bus every chance they get. That’s not even touching on the lost shipments and computer issues. (I think I need an asprin now.)

Family – Oh, the family. How they make us want to jump off a cliff! They demand your attention and presence at every family event. And that doesn’t include the drama you are drawn into.

Kids – These buggers have to be fed and clothed. If they are older, they have to be at soccer practice or picked up when they are done with after school activities. That doesn’t include when you try to go to the bathroom and they come a knocking.

Husband – When does the husband not stress you out? There is the stress of having to watch that football game and then what is for supper.

House – Cleaning never seems to get done unless we do it ourselves. The magical world of Mickey Mouse doesn’t bring the mop to life when we leave the premises. The dishes can wait, but there comes a time that you need to have clean underwear.

Fun Stuff – Even what you do for fun can be stressful. I love to crochet. Now I’m learning to knit. That is soooo stressful. There are the interruptions from kid and husband as well as from life. Then there are the mistakes I am learning as I go. ARGH!

When can I fit in sanity? Nowhere.

There comes a time when you need to step away from it all. You need to get away from even your cell phone. That thing can drive a saint to cussing. Get away and let the brain relax. Give the nerves a chance to breath and not snap.

My husband gave me a slight one the other week. He dropped me off at Starbucks for 4 hours. That was so productive, but it wasn’t a real vacation. I need to sleep in for a few days straight. I need to not have a single person call my name. I need to be pampered and relaxed.

Maybe one day I’ll have that escape, that vacation from life. I can hope can’t I?