A good book
A cool breeze on the back porch
Peace and quiet
Heaven.
Music has gotten me through the worst times and the best times in my life. And although my posting music has typically gotten me the least attention of anything I post, I don’t care. Music lives in me and is one of the most powerful forces in the universe.
So remember this – whatever it is you’re going through, and you need a friend? This is the song to play – “Put Your Records On” by Corinne Bailey Rae.
Music will get you through.
Photo thanks to KoolShooters/pexels
No, you’re not. Neither am I. Quite honestly, it’s a good thing.
One way to not be everyone’s cup of tea, I am reminded from time to time, is to say what you actually think or feel. Respectfully, but honest. Not everyone wants to hear it. Not everyone is able to hear it.
Many people live in environments where they rarely say what’s truly on their minds and are used to avoiding conflict. Having straightforward, honest conversation can be unfamiliar, frustrating, confusing, or just unwanted.
A fair amount of us were/are raised with the belief that ‘children should be seen and not heard.’ That crosses time frames, geographical, cultural, and religious beliefs, and may be subtle and integrated within one’s belief system.
Children expressing unhappiness, frustration, and especially anger may not be welcomed or tolerated. Kids grow into adults who’ve been taught to just be “good”. Don’t rock the boat.
Couple this with a world drowning in sound bites, overwhelmed by video clips and emotionless texts as the norm, meaningful conversation can take a far back seat.
And yet, you have a lot to say, and plenty to share. Do it anyway.
Be your own cup of tea.
Thank you to:
Cameron B/pexels – IG: @cameronsinb, top photo and
dilara/pexels – IG: @dilara.stillife, lower photo
One thing we are all given upon arrival in this world is a name. That name will follow us, with rare exception, throughout our lives to the day we die. Others respond to our names, as do we. What would the effect be if we didn’t have one?
This is something I wondered about when I finished this book. Why didn’t the story, which was both emotional and urgent, have any feeling of emotion or urgency? And I questioned one unusual quality in the book – none of the characters had names. Only a dog, who was left behind when his family was taken, was given a name by the writer.
Written in first person, the writer was nameless, as was her dearest friend, who is only referred to as “the old man”, and her beloved editor, who is only known as “R”. This depersonalization by the author is obviously intentional, but what was her intent?
The book’s premise hooked me – an island where things are constantly disappearing, and people’s memories along with them. The disappearances are enforced by the Memory Police, a somewhat Nazi-like army. The editor, R, is able to retain all his memories since childhood despite so many of the related items having disappeared from the island. This is sure to make him a prime target to be “disappeared”, so the writer and the old man construct a secret room to hide him.
This has all the elements of a great story; but something was lacking – connection. Did all the characters remaining nameless make a difference? I think it did. Only the rescued dog was given a name – Don, and each time his name was mentioned, I perked up. Oh – what’s happening with Don?
Names are important. They are the first step in how I know you, how I call you. Who are you without a name?
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