Eccentric Tea Woman

  When I am about to embark on something new, I get so excited about it. For several days, I will devote much time and energy to the project in question, only to later notice how I may forget to work on it for one day. That one day extends into several and before I know it, I've forgotten to practice my violin, or paint enso, or promote my tea company on social media, or whatever is right in front of me. For years, I couldn't figure out why I procrastinated, especially when it involved something that I truly enjoyed. I literally found the answer yesterday - it's not about being lazy but rather being consistent. Apparently, many people have this problem due to focusing on the outcome rather than the process. I felt as though a light went off in my mind. The article was right: I was more focused on playing the song Eleanor Rigby on my violin rather than enjoying the learning process of getting there. I was more concerned with my tea company making money than actually enjoyin...

 I received word today that the gods and goddesses of old were still among us.  They have witnessed what we humans have become and now they want nothing more to do with us. Some of us, however, are worth "saving" and it is those precious few on whom they bestow their madness upon.  These precious few shriek and scream and dance among colours we have yet to see.  These precious few tell us that we are being watched and we give them a tin foil hat.  These precious few tell us that THEY can see us and we shun the messenger. I lied; I am one of the proud few, the one who can see them.  I refuse to scream but instead, give my gods flowers while they whisper words into my ears that will turn into books that no one can comprehend. I want to run away and hide yet they will always find me. I want to be normal and talk over a water cooler yet they laugh at my foolishness. All I can do is love my deities. All I can do is dream about my new life. All I can do.  Al...

  A new day has come. Time for me to open my journal, pull out my case of pencils, and write. No matter where I am, I have to have both my case of pencils and my sharpener with me whenever I write longhand. For many years, I devoted my writing to the pen (black and maybe blue at times), yet one day while I was in a botanic garden, I wanted to write something in my journal. The only writing instruments I had on me were pencils. I made sure that they were sharpened and I set to writing. Ever since I moved to Colorado, I've completely given in to the whims of the pencil and I refuse to use a pen unless if pressed. Call me an antiquated woman, but I just adore writing in pencil. What is it about the pencil that makes for such a fascinating writing tool? Well for starters, the modern pencil was invented by Nicholas-Jacques Conte in 1795 while serving as a scientist in Napoleon Bonaparte's army. There's more to pencils than what you received in grade school! Several years ago, I...

  They always say "Better late than never". So so so true. As I have gotten older, the lessons continue to hit me (softly) across the face. I can't help but laugh at myself when I finally get it. So, here is a list of things that I finally got: When a person SHOWS you their character, believe them. Not everyone on the planet likes you.  You don't have to like everyone on the planet. Failure is not the end of the world. Sometimes, you do need a day or two or three off. No really, keep reading books and learning.  Not everyone wants to change, so don't make them. If what they're doing seems silly to you, focus on yourself instead.  Your path looks radically different than others, so don't compare.  Don't be envious of others' successes. Focus on your wins, no matter how big or small.  Sometimes, that thing you've always wanted and didn't get may be the biggest gift EVER. Go with the flow, no matter how badly you want to control the situation....

  I once met a woman Who told me that the dead spoke to her. Was it a gift? I asked. No, she replied, but a responsibility Since the dead are the regrets That no longer have a voice. But if they no longer have a voice, I asked, Then how do they speak to you? By revealing a person’s weakness, she replied. Tears that slowly fall Are not normal tears But a wet reality Of what they have done. But should it be hidden? I asked To keep away the questions Asked for too long and too repetitive. The woman was gone -  A ghost of herself -  And all that is left Are my tears of regret. Viridian Tea Company - Strange and Unusual Tea Blends! Click HERE for the Etsy store link!

 I grew up with the idea that I had to please everyone. Bend over backward and don't forget to smile! So what if you have plans? So what if you wanted to stay at home and enjoy a quiet evening? Saying YES meant doing the right thing no matter what. Saying YES meant that my needs were not important enough and if I dared to question . . .  At times, it felt as though I had to ask permission to go out and enjoy myself. Do things that I wanted to do. And then one day, I learned about the word NO. No, I will not give up my plans tonight just because. No, I don't need anyone's permission to do whatever I want to do.  Funny how the people who couldn't accept me saying NO to them were the same ones who didn't respect my boundaries. Or even knew I had boundaries, mostly because I didn't speak up. I didn't tell those people - I really feel uncomfortable discussing this matter. Please find someone else who is more suitable. Or: Please call me before showing up at my ap...

So, there you are. You're sitting in front of your computer, ready to work on a new novel or short story, or poem. Or, you're standing in front of a blank canvas as you hold your brush, ready to paint a new painting. You're filled with inspiration and you're ready to expel it out to the universe. And then, you put down the brush, move away from the computer, and start scrolling through social media. You get caught up in the drama of the world and how people are getting angrier and angrier. You discover a new game app that you have to download and play until you get to Level 27. You spend an hour looking at a friend's profile and wonder why they wasted time making posts about so and so. On and on and on, until you look up and suddenly, five hours have passed. No words on the glaring screen. No strokes of colour on the canvas. But damn, you made it to Level 27! This is what I like to call Lost In The Weeds. It's that time when you're supposed to be productive ...