fungus among-us.

the new normal

They say this is the new normal. I guess that means we have given up that things will ever be they same as they were two years ago. 2006 and 07 were the glory years. Lots of money. Lots of everything. And at what point do I allow the New normal to infect, rather affect my life? Good question. Do I accept it? Or are those that continue to fight for the old normal are those who win it back?

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Youthful Spirit

I'm navigating through mid-life crisis. Now. At 44, I am afforded the opportunity to put together the rumblings of my life, look at them, and make better decisions.

And what do I see? In short: I live in a house that is gorgeous, collected things in my life of comfort, traveled the world, lived life as if fear did not exist. With the up's came the down's, after which a lesson was learned. Always learning. Always growing.

And as I watch myself through this crisis, I find I am watching differently than in my youth. I have more tools, more wisdom. Time is moving quicker. And all the dreams of my many elaborate lifetimes, have all gone unrealized. I doubt. Life. Myself. And with doubt comes fear.

I never felt my proverbial clock ticking; I was busy dreaming and scheming, attempting to realize that dream. And boy did I try. Hard. I never got there; and never looked at what I was missing out on along the way. I never even envisioned what my life would look like from an older perspective, if I didn't have kids. I never even entertained the idea of regret for my choices.

I have changed since then. I am older and sitting in that overlooked perspective. This is not the place of my dreams. This is not familiar. This does not feel satisfying. I know this, yet I regret nothing. Because I haven't yet given up hope, hope that I can still make my life relevant. Everything in it's place.

So I continue to struggle to "prove" myself, to myself. After struggling to realize my dream, finding nothing coming of the struggle, I struggle to prove the struggle's worth. Now I'm struggling to not give up my dream, because of the energy invested in the struggle. It's too late to give up. It's too late to build a family.

Fear is at my wheel, driving me. Never before have I allowed fear control of my life. And I thought I was wiser.

My youthful modus operandi was to cast away all fear of the unknown and just DO. I always thought I would have the time, to do... more. But now I am out of time for children, which is the first opportunity to pass me by. Really. pass... me.... by. I am learning that time does run out. Opportunities do close. It has for me with children. Which opportunity is next?

What part of "youth" leaves you first?  Fertility, youthful skin, youthful ambitions, youthful energy, youthful spirit ? In that order? Or does energy go before ambition?

There's no getting off this rollercoaster.  I know all options and opportunities come and go.  They ebb and flow.   Things I do not yet understand will replace them.  And in allowing this release, I pray that I never give up the youthful spirit.



Copyright 2014 Yvonne Ramage. 

Selfish Day

I know we are all exhausted. Work has become ... work. And play is getting farther and farther from view. We have all had to slow down. Jobs are lost. Credit is getting cancelled. Bills are getting behind faster than you thought they could. There's this funny mailbox game I play with myself. It's called, "from-looking-at-the-yet-unopened-bank-envelope---guess-which-bank-closed-which-account-today" game.

Stress wears on our faces. I see it more than I used to. People are fidgety, not sure where we are headed, and seeing no end in sight. We have no proverbial "light at the end of the tunnel". Hell, I don't even see a tunnel. Goals.

And it is those people, who create the tunnel, fuel the light, and propel us forward with positive energy. Those people, they will be the ones to prosper.

But if I had a group of employees, this is what I would tell them:

It is the people, through these difficult times, that believe in themselves who are going to prosper through. You must know yourself, believe in what you know and just go. And that is the type of person I am asking to step forward with me. I want to find a group of people who are willing to invest time, energy, focus, intellect and most importantly, positivity.

Sure we all have to slow down. A bit. But if we let the upset of today, take from us our positive attitude, we will slow down A LOT.

So, let's slow down a little, and move in a positive direction, with our full attention. When we are here (at work), we are here. When we are home, we are home. And to help us keep that perspective, we will grant you two extra days a month away from work.

The first is called "Work Day". The last (rotate days-wednesday) of the month, you will get a full day to take care of home things that spill over from not having enough time. Housework, pay bills, run errands, etc.

The second is "Selfish Day". Selfish day is one day a month (rotate and schedule days), you will get a full day to do exactly what you want to do. You are required to NOT WORK, either at home or at work. Working hard, with focus and full attention can be fulfilling, yet exhausting. To keep from burning out, you need to take breaks.

Do something completely different, something you absolutely love to do. Think of exactly that one thing, you love, and do that. Tell your family about selfish day, "Honey, I can't do that, because it is selfish day today." Now, I'm not saying they have to serve you. I am saying YOU have to serve YOURSELF. Selfish Day.



Copyright 2014 Yvonne Ramage. 

Lightly Raining in the Galapogos

"It was lightly raining in the Galapagos, when ... ", started the older gentleman's story, as a group of us were waiting in the sitting room, just outside the breakfast bar.

As I listened to the group compare stories of elaborate vacations, I began to feel invisible. I am a nobody. This was idle conversation to them. It wasn't about the weather, not about their grandchildren or their pets. It's about how their bodies react to malaria mediacation. Galapagos, South Africa, Mexico, Mayan country. Mostly it's the well traveled folks talking. The non-well-travled sit quietly in the corner, away from the group, listening. I can only imagine what they may be thinking. It may be something similar to me.... I am a nobody.

Listening to the group, I heard narrow mind after narrow mind, followed by competition and judgement. One-upping games to show importance; but only to those that are playing. To the rest it is just bragging.
But one man who is clearly not well traveled, sitting quietly away from the rest, is the ONE that is the most pleasant of the bunch. He is the only person in the room I would WANT to talk to, even though I am well traveled myself and could rival any story in the conversation.

He didn't add much to the conversation with rivaling stories. Instead he comments on the most inane things with such joy, carrying an infectious smile, " I just love those bison," pointing outside to the bison in the field. His comment stops the elaborate stories in their tracks and makes everyone chuckle. Even the proudest world traveler in the room took at moment to look at the bison. That one man, spoke about things that are equally relatable... to everyone. He made me appreciate the things I have, not long for the things that I haven't seen, done, or experienced.

To humbly bring to light experiences that are within everyone’s reach... that is GRACE.
Joy is infectious. A smile is a beacon. And humility is the platform from which everything can be heard.


Copyright 2010 Yvonne Ramage

loving my weeds

It seems these days, I exist only ... to do the "right" thing. It seems that my day is completely encased in rules. Go here. Do that. File this. Pay this bill. Seems like everything has two consequences.... a right and a wrong one, nothing in between.

I wake at the right time, gingerly positioning myself to get out of bed the right way, otherwise I might pull a muscle. I get up at the right time, otherwise I might be late for work. I walk to the kitchen to feed my, by this time, verbal cats. Take care to feed them the right amount, otherwise they will get fat and have health issues. I make coffee, measuring the exact right amount into the filter, so as to create that perfect blend of flavor, caffeine and thrift. Coffee is expensive. I think, "I should eat breakfast, cause it's important to my health. I know breakfast would be the right thing to do." I skip it; I am a (choose the right word here...) rebel. Take the right vitamins.

I get in the shower, otherwise I'll stink all day. Wash my hair with the right conditioner to perk up and shine; shave my legs because it's all about lack of body hair these days. Dry and style my hair the right way for my appointments today, because looking your best in business helps people to see your professionalism. Drive the right speed, the right, shortest and fastest way to work. Pay bills on the right day, buy the right insurance, file the right paperwork with the county, state, city and US government... otherwise Iwill be breaking the law and could be prosecuted. Talk to the right people; say the right thing. Go to lunch at the right time. Eat the right, healthy, low-fat, cheap meal. Save the right files. Backup the computer, otherwise all the rightness may be lost. Fix everyone's mistakes that may cost me if found. Everything has a cost. Most people make mistakes. Come home at the right time. Unwind by taking a relaxing walk in the garden, at which point I see tons of weeds. Pull the weeds, manicure the garden, because there are right and wrong plants to have growing in the garden.

Everything has a consequence. And I'm really really tired of paying those consequences, because I am not right. Hell, I am RARELY right. Yet i still try. Holding up the facade of being and doing the right thing is exhausting.

Maybe I just need to relax and let my weeds grow. Maybe I need to love my weeds.

I strive to be right, to save myself from consequences. But I must understand that striving has consequences too. They are inner turmoil, lack of positive meaning in my life, living for society's notion of what I need to be doing an how I need to be doing it. I want my own rightness.

I choose to love my weeds.

it is so much easier to be the underdog

to be the overly analysed team, consciously aware of all the "reviews" saying how large the public's expectations are of you. Just more than a true man can take. To come out with that pressure, takes only a super hero. Super. Hero. that's the story we all buy, want, and yearn for.

Everyone roots for the underdog.

the smell of september.

As I inhale the smell of harvest, I can tell it is less a rhetorical smell and more a physical pollen entering my nasal passages. It is coupled with air wrapped in a thick moisture, swilling into a potent definition of September. It's a harvest moon, full and partially hidden by layers of fog. Standing in the sky, as if saying, "I am here, you are there, and there is a sea of sweetness between us."

the smell of september.

"boo" you

I've been a struggling musician for years now. Not quite sure where to go next. So I step to the left. No viewable progress. I step right. Again, no progress. A little.... but not enough. Definitely, not enough.

Then one fine day I realized, as I watched football fans "boooo" their quarterback after a couple of bad games. He entered the stadium, and booooo's ensued. He shook his head, looking down, pulling his chin deep into his chest.

And I ask myself, “How does he do it? How does he walk onto the field and give it his all for these people, the very ones that boo him?”

 Now THAT is courage.

How awful it must feel to have your own team "boo" you. And as I applied that feeling to my life, I realized, "At least my fans don't boo me. Maybe it is enough.”

So, is it a lie when .....

... when over 80 percent of it is loosely based in truth.
... when it ends with the words, "I love you so much Baby."
... when it doesn't seem to harm the person you use it on, directly.
... when more than five people agree it's the truth