Author: Marianne @ Their Words. My Musings.

I aspire to inspire you. I wish to compel you to think, provoke you to laugh, and move you to live and act authentically. Their words. My words. Your words. Let's muse about them together. Marianne

Stolen Words: May All Your Favorite Bands

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Stolen Words are my compilations of lyrics used to make a new piece of prose of sorts.  The lyrics are collected from songs I hear on the radio, on Spotify, and even from elevator music. Below is the piece I wrote for my daughter’s wedding one year ago today. It is dedicated to her & her wife, to family & friends, to anyone who believes in love.

Stolen Words: May All Your Favorite Bands

Girls, do you believe in love?
'Cause I've got something to say about it and it goes something like this ...     (Express Yourself, Madonna) 
I hope you don't mind if I put down in words     (Your Song, Elton John)
The very first words of a lifelong love letter     (I Choose You, Sara Bareilles)
That I will dedicate to you     (The Last Song, Foo Fighters)
This is a different kind of love song, dedicated to everyone     (Different Kind of Love Song, Cher)
And the songbirds are singing, like they know the score     (Songbird, Fleetwod Mac)
Read more: Stolen Words: May All Your Favorite Bands 
I've heard a story, a girl, she once told me     (Hold My Hand, Lady Gaga)
It's kinda hard for me to explain, her personality and everything     (Beyond, Leon Bridges)
She's graceful and shes charming     (Graceful and Charming, Great Big Sea)
Unforgettable In every way     (Unforgettable, Nat King Cole)
I know that Grandma would've loved her     (Beyond, Leon Bridges)
Sweatpants, hair tied, chillin' with no makeup on     (Best I Ever Had, Drake)
Standing in the sunlight laughing, hiding 'hind a rainbow's wall     (Brown Eyed Girl, Van Morrison)
With drops of Jupiter in her hair     (Drops of Jupiter, Train)
True colors are beautiful like a rainbow     (True Colors, Cyndi Lauper)
I see your true colors and that's why I love you     (I See You, Tyler Shaw)
She told me to walk this way     (Walk This Way, Aerosmith)
Dance me to the end of love     (Dance Me to The End of Love, Leonard Cohen)
Singing like crazy fools, making up our own words     (Mine Would Be You, Blake Shelton)
Boom, boom, ain't it great to be crazy     (Boom Boom Ain't It Great To Be Crazy, Wee Sing in Sillyville)
Her crazy's beautiful to me     (Beautiful Crazy, Luke Combs)
Now I've finally found someone to stand by me     (Time of My Life, Bill Medley & Jennifer Warnes)
She is always right there when I need her     (Cheerleader, Omi)
And she know just how to treat me right     (Some Kind of Wonderful, Grand Funk Railroad)
You see, I can be myself now finally     (Hey Soul Sister, Train)
Yes it’s real, yes it’s real love     (Real Love, John Lennon)
For where she goes I've got to be, the meaning of my life is she     (She, Elvis Costello)
Oh, it's a beautiful thing, don't think I can keep it all in     (It's Your Love, Tim McGraw & Faith Hill)
I've known it from the moment that we met     (Make You Feel My Love, Adele)
I know that some day that she'll wear my ring     (Jersey Girl, Bruce Springsteen)
It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"     (Love Story, Taylor Swift)
If perfect's what you're searchin' for, then just stay the same     (Just The Way You Are, Bruno Mars)
Know all of the things that make you who you are     (She Will Be Loved, Maroon 5)
And share all the love and laughter, that a lifetime will allow     (I Cross My Heart, George Straight)
Teach your parents well, and feed them on your dreams     (Teach Your Children Well, CSN&Y)
The dreams that you dare to dream really do come true     (Somewhere Over The Rainbow, Israel Kamakawiwo'ole)
Love is patient, love is kind     (Same Love, Macklemore & Ryan Lewis)
Love does not run, love does not hide     (Love Never Fails, Brandon Heath)
Don't take for granted the love this life gives you     (Humble and Kind, Tim McGraw)
May your heart always be joyful and may your song always be sung     (Forever Young, Bob Dylan)
And may all your favorite bands stay together     (All Your Favorite Bands, Dawes)
Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight     (Lucky Star, Madonna)
Near, far, wherever you are     (My Heart Will Go On, Celine Dion)
To the ends of the earth, to the moon and back     (To The Moon and Back, Luke Bryan)
Everywhere I’m looking now     (Halo, Beyoncé)
I believe there are angels among us     (Angels Among Us, Alabama)
Written in these walls are the stories that I can't explain     (Story of My Life, One Direction)
Memories of a life that's been loved     (Supermarket Flowers, Ed Sheeran)
Put a candle in the window     (Long As I Can See The Light, CCR)
We won’t be sad, we’ll be glad     (Remember When, Alan Jackson)
And if we ever leave a legacy, it’s that we loved each other well     (Power of Two, Indigo Girls)

I could talk all day but let me spell it out … (Love You Still, Tyler Shaw)

As I write this letter, send my love to you     (I Love You, The Beatles)
Tried to summon all that my heart finds true     (Letter To You, Bruce Springsteen)
There's no combination of words I could put on the back of a postcard     (Better Together, Jack Johnson)
Old Mr. Webster could never define     (You Say It Best When You Say Nothing At All, Alison Krauss & Union Station)
I love you more than I have ever found a way to say to you     (The Luckiest, Ben Folds)
Won't you come on and raise your glass     (Raise Your Glass, P!nk)
Toast to the ones here today, toast to the ones that we lost on the way     (Memories, Maroon 5)
I got a feeling that tonight's gonna be a good night     (I Gotta Feeling, Black Eyed Peas)
Let's go dancin' in the light, on this harvest moon     (Harvest Moon, Neil Young)
Get this party started on a Saturday night     (Get The Party Started, P!nk)
What would Jimmy Buffett say? – It's five o'clock somewhere!
(Five O'Clock Somewhere, Alan Jackson)

All copyright remains with the original songwriter(s).

“A word after a word after a word is power.”

Margaret Atwood

Mentally Constipated? Take A Dump.

Published on by Marianne @ Their Words. My Musings.Leave a comment

I’ve been doing a ton of decluttering these past few weeks. My spaces but more importantly, my mind.

It’s the beginning of my physical and mental processes to get ready to do goals work. If I don’t declutter first, I overextend myself. Too many goals, too many areas of life, too many steps to achieve them. I’m a high achiever and it’s a strength I value in myself. I am also an overthinker. Big time. I just spent two minutes trying to find a ‘better’ way to say big time. Is that enough proof for you?

Read more: Mentally Constipated? Take A Dump.

I also have a process for before the decluttering begins (there’s more proof). A big ole brain dump. It untangles my mind, reduces anxiety, and limits my tendency to get caught up in analysis by paralysis. I learned about doing brain dumps when I first read “Getting Things Done” by David Allen many a moon ago. In the book, Allen refers to it as doing a ‘mind sweep’. I call it a dump because, well, it excretes all of the crap that is making my mind constipated.

GTD™ (Getting Things Done) teaches that the mind is for creating ideas, not for storing them. That carries forward into ‘to do lists’, goals, and habits for me. I use at least six apps on my phone (yeah, more proof) to capture things crossing my mind. Especially for things that aren’t actionable in the moment like a post idea or even mundane things like my grocery list (don’t forget the toilet paper!). But when I’m feeling frazzled and have lost a grip on all those things, doing a brain dump works best by using pen and paper. The irony of doing a written brain dump is it’s a completely unorganized strategy, yet it’s sole purpose is to help me organize my mind.

On Friday, I wrote out an outstanding brain dump if I do say so myself. I knew I would have more free time this weekend than normal, and I was going to make the most of it. But I needed an ACTIONABLE to do list. Things I knew I could get done over the course of a couple days so I wouldn’t set up myself for failure. Yes, some things on the brain dump didn’t belong on that particular to do list. But just seeing them in print would help me generate other lists to be created in the future. Hence why I keep my brain dumps for a few months. I review them periodically to a) ensure I didn’t miss out on something that was on my mind previously, and b) put a big fat X through some items. The latter is the fun part. It’s the part that indents several pages underneath the line is so firmly done.

Another lesson from GTD™ is to use a two-minute rule: “if an action will take less than two minutes, it should be done at the moment it is defined.” When I’m in decluttering mode, that’s the tool to get me moving. I simply walked through my apartment and got stuff done. Many of them were little but annoying as heck things that I just hadn’t bothered to do. Like changing the brush on my teeth picker thingamabob. Or moving a book I had finished from my night stand to my bookshelf. The two-minute rule gets a lot done. Bonus effect: it adds to my brain dump. Dusting and reorganizing my bookshelf was one I added to the list. No it wasn’t going to get done this weekend, but ideally it will be transferred to a new list in the near future.

After my two-minute running around was done, I looked at the 15 minutes or less items. Many of these are what I refer to as “tolerating the intolerables.” Stuff I know needs to be done, but I’ve been procrastinating doing, like rolling my coins to get ready to take to the bank. Or the things I don’t want or like to do, like mend a small hole in the bra that’s been laying under a side table for months now. I said I was an overachiever, not a domestic goddess. The 15 or less action items took longer naturally, but that’s where visual and mental clutter really started to disappear. I even made progress on some bigger items that will be very time consuming, but I could work on when I was taking a break. Mostly tech related like deleting emails, text messages, and pictures.

Now here I sit on a Sunday evening feeling quite accomplished. I have free time and a much clearer mind to write this post. When I get home, I will be more at peace. I won’t have that ‘I better get this or that done’ anxiety. My plans are to get in my comfies, have a snack, light a candle and relax. Oh, and continue reading my latest gem I found at a thrift store after I dropped some stuff off (one of the actionable items this weekend). Very fitting book to be reading tonight given the title of the post.

get your sh*it together by Sarah Knight

“A word after a word after a word is power.”

83 Pens. Really Girl?

Published on by Marianne @ Their Words. My Musings.1 Comment

About four weeks ago, I needed a green pen and couldn’t find one. I eventually found one in my laptop bag, but only after tearing my desk apart. A few days later, I started to reorganize my workspaces. I took every item out of my desk and put them in somewhat strategic piles on my living room floor. That was followed by dusting and wiping down every surface of the desk. It felt great! But …

Those strategic piles on my living room floor? They stayed there until until Saturday. Three days ago.

Read more: 83 Pens. Really Girl?

I live alone in a basement “granny flat” style of apartment. It’s small, mostly open concept, and very cozy. However, anytime something is out of place, I see it. Constantly. Usually, it’s no big deal. I’ve never been one to want a Pinterest or Instagram worthy looking home. Too sterile and seemingly perfect for me. I have enough perfectionism tendencies, I don’t need to add my home to the list. I feel most at home when it looks lived in. Not messy or dirty or crap all over the place. Just everyday “I was here” stuff. Maybe my coffee cup sitting beside my laptop. My grocery bags on the stairs to go back in the car. Heck, I even have a bra under a side table that needs a little mending. After all, that’s what a home is for right? To be lived in.

But those piles of my desk stuff on my living room floor. They definitely weren’t evidence of a lived in home. They were proof I wasn’t living my best life. And multiple daily reminders of it to boot. They made me anxious. They overwhelmed me. They kept me away from enjoying some writing or reading time in my favourite chair. They made me very stressed. They definitely weren’t good for my mental health.

Friday evening, I went out of town to see some friends. Return trip takes almost four hours. While I was driving, I listened to three podcasts from Mel Robbins. They got me all pumped up and I was looking forward to being all productivey and get some shit done on the weekend. Foremost, to get rid of those mentally draining piles on my living room floor. The common denominator in those three podcasts? Rituals and habits to help me get more organized. Exactly what I need. Or so I thought.

Yesterday, I did tackle the piles. Reorganized the drawers the way I wanted them. Shifted around stuff that belonged on the desk shelves. It looked so clean and organized, almost even pretty! I felt so accomplished! But the piles weren’t an organizing problem. They were a clutter problem. Big difference.

It just so happened that I knew I had another Mel Robbins podcast downloaded on my phone. 5 Easy Steps To Make Your Home and Your Mind Clutter-Free. I had forgotten the essence of the difference between organizing and de-cluttering. The actual stuff. I don’t need more containers or to put all of my desk items back in a picture perfect way. I need less things in my desk. I need visual white space, even in and on a white desk. Then, and only then, can they be contained, which will lead to a future of less organizing by way of having less to keep neat and tidy in the first place. A future of living the best version of myself.

After listening to that podcast, I realized I had only re-organized the stuff. I didn’t get rid of very much. I hadn’t declutttered. My desk or my mind. And chances were pretty good that I’d be doing the same tedious task again in a few months. The next time I can’t find a certain thing and tear my desk apart. Again. I don’t like that feeling. It makes me feel anxious without even knowing when it will happen. That’s suffering in advance. What a waste of time.

So today, I took another look at the stuff in my desk drawers. The papers, folders, and accessories weren’t an issue. They were all things that I either needed at my workspace, like files, or things that I wanted there, like a favourite picture. I was shocked when I looked at my pens and other writing instruments though. I even checked my work bag and various other spots where a pen might be. I took a deep breath, gathered them all up, went back to the living room floor, and dumped them. I made piles again, to sort types, colours, etc. And then I counted them. 83. Really girl???

34 blue, 12 black, 9 red, 13 other colours, 13 markers and highlighters, 2 pencils

I’d like to stay I carried on and got rid of all the excess items in my desk, including the pens. But I decided to procrastinate and go out for coffee and some writing time. I’ll get back to you later on the pen situation. If I get around to it.

In the meantime, here’s a double whammy of a quote I think I need to puzzle over …

“Clutter is the physical manifestation of
unmade decisions fuel by procrastination”

– Christina Scalise, author

“A word after a word after a word is power.”

Margaret Atwood

I Graduated. Again.

Published on by Marianne @ Their Words. My Musings.Leave a comment

CAUTION: Trigger Warning!
This post is about depression and mental illness.
If you are having a mental illness crisis or are suicidal,
please contact a distress line or your area’s emergency phone number.
International emergency phone numbers can be found here.

Today I graduated from CBT. Again. No ceremonial procession. No cap and gown. No degree awarded. Just me and my teacher signing off our virtual chat, while I was in jeans and a hoodie, having been granted the knowledge that my illness was in remission mode. Again.

My illness you ask? It’s mental. It has a name. It’s called depression.

Read more: I Graduated. Again.

I was first diagnosed with depression at the very, very tender age of eight. About 45 years ago. I had experienced some trauma in my life already by that age. The clincher to getting diagnosed was when I told my mom I wanted to “go sleep with the angels.” Not just once but several times, with varying use of words. A child of that age doesn’t know how or have the vocabulary to express that they don’t want to live anymore. That was my way. My mom understood my way and got help for me. Thank you my angelic Mom.

Depression isn’t chronic for all who have the illness. For me, it is. Sadly, more trauma happened in my childhood and youth. I also have the psychological disorder commonly referred to as PTSD – posttraumatic stress disorder. My depression and my PTSD cohabitate in my psyche. More years than not, they are with me quietly in the basement, sometimes they’re present but peacefully in my living room of life, and sometimes they are in my attic, obnoxiously and loudly, bellowing out at for my attention and disrupting my entire existence.

About six months ago, they both completed their ascension to my attic, hand in hand. One day in January, I had both a “new” memory of a trauma that had been repressed since my childhood, and a panic attack, likely triggered by the memory resurgence. Lots of difficult stuff had been going on in my life before that particular day. I simply thought it was high stress leading to physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion. I didn’t see it for what it was: depression. And that for many, including me, is a common symptom of the illness. Every instance that I can recall of my depression coming out of remission has slowly crept up and then blindsided me. This one was no exception.

I’ll be sharing more about my mental illness AND wellness in the future. In fact, it is one of the primary reasons why I returned to writing. Not just for the therapeutic effect it has in my soul. Which is amazing by the way. But also to increase awareness and share resources about depression, suicidal tendencies, anxiety, panic attacks, PTSD, and addictions. Including what I have gained after doing CBT a handful of times now. CBT being Cognitive Behavioural Therapy.

For now, I just want to say I couldn’t have beaten latest occurrence of my depression alone. I am strong, I am smart, and I am brave. I have championed a lot solo. But when it comes to my mental illness, I need others to be givers of care. I need help. On a different day back in January, I uttered the words my depression doesn’t like to say out loud. I called my nurse and said ‘please help me.’ Even that act involved somebody else. She was part of my transition from I to we, my first step to getting better. Again.

“A word after a word after a word is power.”

Margaret Atwood

Inhibitions or Inhabititions?

Published on by Marianne @ Their Words. My Musings.Leave a comment

The last few months I’ve been taking a good look at what holds me back from living my best life. I alluded to it in my An Un-Becoming post. I was tasked to complete a values worksheet in the cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) program I’m in. I had to rate how important a list of values are to me, along with how satisfied I am with them. The former was easy. The latter made me sob. It hurt in the deepest core of my being to see in print how unsatisfied I am. After sitting with the pain for a couple of days, I said out loud – So, whatcha gonna do about this kid?

Initially, I thought to work on my goals worksheet. And while setting goals is all fine and well, and I do it regularly, I realized I needed to look at my past before I started planning for my future. I wanted to see where the gaps were really coming from. How much of it was internal versus external. How my responses and reactions to people, places, and things were contributing to my dissatisfaction with my life and myself.

I journaled about it and a few words kept jumping off the pages and slapping me silly in my gut. One of them was inhibitions. Yuck. Not a word I like. Not a word I want to used in any way that indicates I have some. Not a word I’m proud of. Not a word I wanted to write about. But the ink in my journal couldn’t be denied. Even if I used correction tape to blot it out of my notebook, I couldn’t unsee or unfeel the word. Interesting that product is called correction tape.

Read more: Inhibitions or Inhabititions?

Me and my love for dictionaries, I looked up definitions. A few I found were:

  • An inability to act naturally, especially because of lack of confidence.
  • An inner impediment to free activity and expression.
  • The process of restraining one’s impulses or behaviour, either consciously or unconsciously.

But for myself, I have to ask: are they really inhibitions? Or are they inhabititions? Yes, I made up another word. I’m very uninhibited that way. But for some weird reason, that nonsense word came to mind and actually made sense to me. In two different contexts, but I’ll only delve into the first one now.

When someone or something inhabits a place, it lives there. My past lives inside of me. It’s become a part of my genetic makeup, the workings of my brain, my memories. I classify periods of my past as previous versions of myself. Aspects of past versions of me were flooding my mind and my heart this week. I wanted to ask a close friend their thoughts on something I’m interested in doing. I felt nervous about asking them, even though I can share anything with them, they know me better than I know myself sometimes. I highly value their opinion. So why would I be afraid? In a word, insecurity. I was fearful of how they might respond, that they might misunderstand me, that they wouldn’t engage in discussing it with me.

Insecurity is a part of every single past version I have of myself. But I’ve started to push that part of me out. I didn’t want it renting space in my mind, heart, and soul. I gave it a notice of eviction. In time, it will leave and be replaced with stronger senses of security and confidence. And it began with hitting send on a text message. I simply asked if I could get their feedback on something. They were busy at the time, and that momentarily made me feel insecure. I wondered if I should even be asking them. I didn’t let it last though. When they had time the next day, they told me to ask the question. Okay, so maybe I drafted it out, rewrote it a few times, overthought how to say it. But I took a deep breath and sent the message. I was elated. I was free.

As I drove to one of my usual writing spots this evening, Adele’s Someone Like You came on the radio. The song really doesn’t have much to do with this post. But two lines in it do. It was like I was hearing the current version of me speak to previous versions of myself. Me today, kicking out the insecurities of my yesterdays. Basically saying to them: See ya! Don’t wanna be ya anymore!

“I hate to turn up out of the blue, uninvited
But I couldn’t stay away, I couldn’t fight it”

Picture credit: me, from my journal after hitting send!

“A word after a word after a word is power.”

Margaret Atwood

Stolen Words: Fly Me To The Moon

Published on by Marianne @ Their Words. My Musings.Leave a comment

Stolen Words are my compilations of lyrics used to make a new piece of prose of sorts.  Usually, my writings are collected from a wide variety of songs. However, when a singer/song-writer passes, I am often moved to listen to their music and enjoy the memories their melodies have given me.

Yesterday, Tony Bennett passed away at the age of 96. Below is the piece I wrote in honour of the legendary crooner. Some of the songs are his originals, some are covers of other icons like Frank Sinatra, while some are performances with others. I am especially fond of his two duets albums: Duets: An American Classic, and Duets II.

Read more: Stolen Words: Fly Me To The Moon

Stolen Words: Fly Me To The Moon

There’s a line between love and fascination (My Foolish Heart)
It’s the good life to be free and explore the unknown (The Good Life)
Let’s see if the puzzle fits so fine (I Wanna Be Around)

My heart wants to know, and so I must go where destiny leads me (Who Can I Turn To)
For once, unafraid, I can go where life leads me (For Once In My Life)
No more doubt or fear, I found my way (Just In Time)

And I ascended out of the common place (A Stranger In Paradise)
I don’t have any reasons, I’ve left them all behind (New York State Of Mind)
Still it’s a real good bet the best is yet to come (The Best Is Yet To Come)

I love the free, fresh wind in my hair, life without care (The Lady Is A Tramp)
Softer than satin was the light from the stars (Blue Velvet)
High on a hill, it calls to me (I Left My Heart In San Francisco)

My dear, it’s four-leaf clover time (‘S Wonderful)
Good night, baby, good night, the milkman’s on his way (Lullaby Of Broadway)
Think of banana split and licorice and you’ll feel fine (Put On A Happy Face)

Because of you there’s a song in my heart (Because Of You)
There is nothing for me but to love you (The Way You Look Tonight)
But save your love, I just want your company (Rags To Riches)

With any luck, then I suppose the music never ends (How Do You Keep The Music Playing)
And let the music play as long as there’s a song to sing (This Is All I Ask)
And let that harmony ring up to Heaven (Sing You Sinners)

Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars (Fly Me To The Moon)

All copyright remains with the original songwriter(s).

“A word after a word after a word is power.”

Margaret Atwood

Writing is Like Sex. Wait! I’ll Explain!

Published on by Marianne @ Their Words. My Musings.4 Comments

“Writing is like sex. Keep moving.

Go with the flow.

And don’t criticize during the act.”

Natalie Goldberg,
author of Living the Writer’s Life

Most people know that sex releases “feel good” chemicals in our brains. Any many will have heard of the “runner’s high” that can do the same. They can give you your daily D.O.S.E. of happiness: Dopamine, Oxytocin, Serotonin, and Endorphins.

But did you know that for some – like me – writing can do the same?

I find writing arousing, sensual, and sexy as you know what. Here’s why …

Read more: Writing is Like Sex. Wait! I’ll Explain!
  1. Vulnerability is key. Writers are naked with their thoughts and dare to be exhibitionists with them.
  2. Overthinking kills the spontaneity. And it will give you a headache, which usually eliminates the mood.
  3. It can’t be forced. It’s an artful expression that demands patience and delicate seduction.
  4. There’s no wrong way to do it! Let it be playful, an experiment, and an avenue to let go of your inhibitions.
  5. There are times for it to move slowly and times for it to be fast and furious. Go with the flow and see where it takes you.
  6. You can keep it to yourself, but it’s more fun to share with others.

A Facebook friend once told me: “It doesn’t have to be brilliant. It just has to be honest.” One of the finest pieces of writing advice I’ve ever been given. And perhaps one of the most scintillating tips for sex too.

So if you’re trying to get into writing, for whatever reason, just start. Don’t let your anxieties, insecurities, or perfectionism tendencies get in the way. Your audience is waiting for the kind of expression only you can make. Even if that audience is only you.

If you take these points into consideration, both writing and sex can have a very satisfying ending. And if you aren’t “in the mood” for one, try the other. You’ve got nothing to lose and hey, who knows, maybe it will get you all revved up to release yourself liberally with the other activity.

Picture credit: Roman Odintsov, Pexels

“A word after a word after a word is power.”

Margaret Atwood