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Category Archives: weekly writing challenges

“Weekly Challenge: Student, Teacher

We all have something to share, and we all have more to learn. This week, teach us something — or share something you’ve been taught with the class.”

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classroom wash your hands 1940

I am a life long learner. The more I learn the more I realize how little I know. There is a great big world and the people who teach me things that are memorable are my children and family. But, others want to school me to just to show that they can be the smartest person in the room.

So the cycle goes, throughout Life:

Student or teacher? Windshield or the bug?

Things happen that make me think. Or, I should say, think even more. Our brains are capable of processing so many meanings for multiple words or phrases. What I heard is what you claim I said but I know I never did. You hear me speaking and think it must be about you but you are not sure because it could all be your imagination. Each day I must learn what I can and all that I wish I did not on the journey that gives as much as it gets.

See? It isn’t all black and white. There is a lot of gray in our gray matter.

A man came to the office, held out his ticket, and asked if I could validate him. The other person there gave him a kiss. I looked at him sincerely and told him “You are a very nice person.” It is all in the interpretation.

G-d must have given you so many words so you could talk out of both sides of your mouth.

I don’t care how many people show me their back. I want to meet the few who will show me their heart.

Talking to some people, like family, coworkers or adolescents can be difficult. Each word has to be carefully measured so as not to cause offense, or the implication of offense, or anything that could be misunderstood as offensive in any way. So you tiptoe around a situation or a person and it causes me to think:

How can I talk while I am holding my breath?

I know that there is silliness in our daily lives, but it is not all fun and games. However, it sure would be nice to have more fun than game playing…

If the prize goes to the last man standing, who will he brag about it to?

Have you had any random musings that you realized were more brilliant or clever than merely random? What did you learn from it? Did it make you smile? Better yet, did it make someone else smile?

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Thank you for stopping by! It means more than you know.
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http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_writing_challenge/student-teacher/

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here comes the sun

I was born into a world of words, a cacophony of languages and sounds, as I was formed. My mother and father were students and teachers. My mother was a major in Linguistics at college while she and my father created me. As I grew, I knew that there was much to learn and the need to look for the meaning in that which was left unsaid. From childhood until now, I cry at the lyrics of a sad song.

My life and deepest emotions have been formed by the greatest writers of the last half century. Songwriters, authors, politicians and playwrights filled my earliest memories with life-changing authority, creativity, and kindness.

Yearly, I have been reminded that Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream and it was ended in violence on my birthday. Each year is a reminder of good versus evil, the dreamers who dared to see beyond the shades of black and white, and the need to express your truth for positive change.

My AM transistor radio shared space on my bed with my homework. The lyrics of James Taylor, Carole King, Paul McCartney and John Lennon, Joni Mitchell, and the Bee Gees played poetry in the confines of my room and my mind.

Music has always been so important to me as I reached for the lyrics of meaning, hearing them with my head and my heart, and seeds of empathy were created. Before I even knew what the ideas and social commentary meant, I sang of my journey that would take me to the jet plane that I was leaving on. I did not know how to love him and prayed, day by day, to understand more clearly. The lesson was that no matter how difficult the times, I would always have a friend, and come running, as fast as I could, to someone who needed me too.

At the age of 10, I practiced writing the lyrics to “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” by Elton John until I could sing it by heart. In Junior High, I struggled against the taunts of classmates while I read Ray Bradbury’s “Summer All in a Day.” To this day, I feel for that dear Margot yearning to see the sunlight and feel the ray of warmth against her skin. I understood what it felt like to be the sensitive girl, seemingly on another planet, with her heart on her sleeve and desire to make others understand that which they could not see or feel. I recall the sting of others’ cruelty and excuse to exclude while they had their day in the Sun.

Each day, I must use my words to comfort someone else or help them to feel that they need not face the dark alone. I write because I was born into a world of words, and there was no other choice, but to try to accept the challenge and capture their power. If my words could ease someone’s pain or give a ray of hope, then it was what I was meant to do.

So many years have passed and I can still feel the renewed spirit of the self when the Sun escapes from the dark clouds, piercing the cold winter’s air, and shares its dreams of a more peaceful and optimistic time.

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Thank you so much for stopping by! It means more than you know.
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http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/24/writing-challenge-reflections/#more-71506

at last I am 50

Fifty is the age of rationalization
It is definitely not the new 30 unless you have lots of money and surgery or both!

Duck pin bowling is the sport of kings and birthday parties everywhere. As an elementary school child, it was a rainy day or boring Sunday outing. Well, I played this week for the first time in who knows how many years. Truly, it could be longer than my youngest child has been on this Earth.

I have discovered that my magical powers are in my mind; I notice everything and catch each subtext. I speak in multi-syllabic words like epinephrine, balloon angioplasty, Parkinsonian, thyroid stimulating hormone, and know the generic name of almost any drug that I and my relatives are taking. Words are my friends.

Maybe fifty is the age of the mind?

My ability is definitely not in my joints and limbs. There is nothing like trying to join in a sport and hit with power. As I approached the line on the overly slippery lanes, with arrows pointing straight ahead, I looked at those around and how easy they appeared to toss the ball and seeing their strong arms and tendons fly halfway down the lane. With great force, I attempted to fold my body and throw the ball down the lane. My leg went one way and my knee went the other. Ouch!

Then I fell. Charmingly graceful for an overweight 50 year old grandmother to land on her butt and be unable to get back on her feet. I laughed hard ~ the signs of nerves, embarrassment and humiliation. As any sensitive person knows, laugh first and loudly so you don’t have to hear others laugh at you. I am not a fan of slapstick, never have been; I feel too badly for the one falling over and cannot laugh at someone else’s misfortune. It is just an Empathy Queen’s mindset to feel pain and help first. I looked like a nut sitting on the floor laughing and trying to get myself back up. But in the land of 50, as long as you get up that counts as success!

Maybe fifty is the age of the nervous laugh?

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Keep me posted and I will keep you posted!
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Just adding a Thank You to all those reading the posts on WordPress as moderators and participants. I am very late to the game, but the DpChallenge was a fun way to participate in the WordPress community. Thanks for stopping by and sharing your positive comments ~ It means more than you know!

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