As human beings, it’s easy for us to look at the negative rather than the positive. If we make a mistake, we beat ourselves up over it. We look to blame someone or something else. The negative is easy. We should be paying attention to the little things that bring us joy and appreciation in our lives.
The left side of the desk is my side. The right side is Paul’s side. I do my online therapy from here and there are many distractions.
I walked into my therapist’s office for my usual Tuesday appointment and sat down in my usual spot. We exchanged the normal pleasantries before she said, “Irene. We need to talk.”
My brain screamed the loudest, “Fuck,” I ever heard rattle through my skull. I knew what was coming.
Over the past few weeks, I have been making a conscious effort to spent less time on the internet. It’s been a mostly successful endeavor.
Londo close up.
After a month of staying home to try and keep the coronavirus pandemic from spreading, many people are longing for the time when life can return to normal and how everything was before we started isolating at home. I don’t want to return to what normal was. I want to go someplace better.
Starr stood on the edge of the field and called to her horses. She looked left, then right, then called them again. On the third call, you could see them running toward her from a great distance. With my trusty Nikon in hand, I prepared to capture the moment. As I watched the horses, partially concealed in the tall grass, gently kicking dust up into the air, I regretted not bringing my 300mm with me and regretted more that I didn’t have an even longer lens.
As a young girl, I used to ride my bicycle down the road with her name on it. It was the main road around the Middletown Psychiatric Center where my mother worked and was named after the woman who spent her life working to make the lives of people with mental health issues and prisoners better.
Today wasn’t a good day. It began somewhere around 3 a.m., but I honestly don’t know what time it was. The first time I was aware of the time, the clock read 3:15 a.m., Tuesday morning.
Confidence. A belief in oneself. The idea that you have the ability to meet the challenges of life and succeed. Realistically knowing your capabilities and feeling secure with the knowledge of what you can achieve. It is something I still struggle with today.
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