Difference between Resolutions and Goals (What is Imbolc?)

Between December and January, everyone seems to be all afuss over their new year’s resolutions an whether or not they’ll be keeping them this year… Whether they kept last year’s and how laughable that subject actually is.

 

Me?

I love this time of year!

But I’m a bit more specific about what kind of things I set myself up to work on for the year to come. I don’t like vague or “kind of’s” when it comes to goal setting.

And that brings up another point not many people consider around this time of year; there’s a difference between resolutions and goals.

 

Resolution: a firm decision to do or not to do something; the action of solving a problem, dispute, or contentious matter.

Goal: the object of a person’s ambition or effort; an aim or desired result.

 

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For example: It would be a resolution to wake up the next day and never eat another cheeseburger, smoke another cigarette, or procrastinate another work assignment until you’re stressed out and strung out.

It would be something you’d start doing day one.

It’s not really something you’re working toward. It’s something you make your mind up to do or not. It’s a decision. There is no end result, there is a continual mindset.

 

For example: It would be a goal to lose ten pounds in the next three months by eating two completely healthy meals a day and exercising three days every week.

A goal is something you must work toward every day, and there will be an end result.

 

Me? I suppose I do both.

Last year, I wrote some goals up (in December 2014) that I wanted to achieve in 20015. This year, I read those goals December 2015 and was happily surprised to see how much I’d accomplished, how much my situation and I’d changed.

I didn’t look at the list for the entire year, so some things I didn’t even realize had bothered me that badly then. Half of my list I accomplished, half I’ve made some major headway with, and the other half I no longer could work on or didn’t achieve.

It was nice to see that I’d made progress. I suppose it’s always nice to see that a person is changing in the direction they want to be.

In December of 2015 I also wrote up my list of goals for 2016, folded it up, and put it away. I wonder what that list will look like when I open it up on the last day of this year.

Amazing how much a year can change.

 

Did you make any goals or resolutions for the year?

 

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Imbolc is either today or tomorrow (it depends on what resource you use, none of the calendars this year agree).

 

It’s a Celtic festival that celebrates the end of winter and the approaching sunnier days.

The Celts celebrate the rebirth of nature during this festival.

 

Use this time to create plans for what you want in the near future and begin working towards achieving them. In essence, planting seeds and nurturing them into growth.

This is a time of optimism and finding dreams and hopes and deciding on ways to achieve them.

 

A time for spring cleaning – mentally and physically – so you can get rid of the clutter, making way for newness in your life.

Fire and sunlight are major symbols at this time of year.

Is there a habit you’d like to get rid of and a healthier one you’d like to begin?

It’s also a time of healing.

Is there something you can do to better your health?

 

Some believe it was a tradition to keep a fire lit inside your home the entire day. Others believe it was tradition to light a candle in each room of your home at the same time.

A birch branch was used to sweep the clutter out of your house while you cleaned.

 

I totally love the symbolism. ;)

Now is when you renew your current goals and/or resolutions. (hence me adding it with this post)

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I Don’t Really Have a Title Today

I don’t like old movies. So sue me!

They seem really cheesy to me. I try really hard to like them, I do. I go into it wanting to like it. Just not in the cards. I mean, I haven’t seen all the old movies I’d like to try. I’d love to rent old creature features and see if I like those. Some old horror movies I hear are better than the current ones, and not cheesy in acting or special features.

 

Which is weird considering I love “The Librarians”, a totally cheesy tv show. Although, it doesn’t have the same atmosphere as old movies and shows. Perhaps that’s it.

*shrug*

 

My favorite tv shows:

Bones

Criminal Minds

NCIS

NCIS New Orleans

The Librarians

Scooby-Doo

 

I am uber, crazy, probably psychotically, picky. So if I don’t absolutely love a movie, book, song, or tv show, then eh.

 

I’m supposed to be working on a birthday card right now. And I had something else to blog on, but I’m feeling too  hemmed in with structure on my blog at current.

So I’m kicking that to the curb.

 

Sometimes putting pen to paper is the only thing that can calm the torment in my soul. Siphon the pain in my head and chest and splash it across the lines in such a way that, for a little while, I am released of its absolute control.

Sometimes its the only thing that can sop up the misery.

Perhaps that’s why I don’t often write about the things which make me happy. I want to soak in those feelings, not give them away to ink.

 

I think your favorite anything can tell a person a lot about you. For instance, I’m pretty sure that list of my favorite tv shows says something about me. I’m just not sure what. I can’t pick favorites with a lot of things. Like movies and music and books. It depends on my mood and where I’m at in my life. It changes too often to really try to pin down, day to day. Besides, there are too many. I’d just have to list them all. And then I’d want to edit the list every five minutes.

 

(I finished that birthday card before finishing this post, by the way.)

 

What are your favorite tv shows? Can you pick favorites for things like books, movies, songs?

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Scavenger

I saw a movie recently. I’m not going to tell you which movie, as that has nothing to do with this post. What does have something to do with this post, is that the main character was a scavenger and every time someone commented on that, they used the word ‘scavenger’ as if it were dirty (the despicable kind of dirty). As if she went about eating people’s unborn babies, ripping them right out of pregnant ladies’ wombs.

This struck me as odd as I sat there in the dark and watched the movie. (and stuffed my face full of nachos)

Yes, there are bad scavengers. But just like everything else on planet earth, I think there are good scavengers.

I think, as usual, we only see it in a gross light.

I have a healthy respect for some sorts of scavengers. I see them in a different light. I suppose I see the word as defined differently too then.

 

Sometimes scavengers are the only ones who survived the abuse, the chaos, the pain, the wars. Plucking almost rotted food and lost hopes from the fingers of corpses as they make their way down the deserted roads, cloaked in darkness of night and certainty that something, somewhere, at some time is going to turn their life around. Or rather, they’re going to be there at the right time and change their lives themselves.

I see scavengers as sometimes empty and simply trying to survive.

I see creatures that feed off dried blood and who have ebony wings and pluck at dead people’s eyes before flying off, cawing at whoever gets close.

 

I am a horror and fantasy writer.

And I live in a different world than a lot of others around me, I’m finding.

It gives me something a little darker and something a little brighter. And that has nothing to do with being a writer.

 

I see a scavenger as the forgotten, the lost, those who walk along the rims of awareness, barely there to most. They live in fear of death, they live in fear of life.

Someone left to themselves, fumbling in the dark with no memory, tugging at the strands of fate, begging their own soul to shake lose something of use.

I feel like a scavenger. Picking at the pieces of a life I could have but hold myself back from.

Because…

Because it takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the light after you’ve lived in darkness.

 

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Burn

Right now? Staying with here, now, this moment?

This dizzying wave of noise blasting through a protective layer of music in peaks and bossy valleys – life isn’t really all that glamorous.

There is nothing fancy about who I am or what or where I come from.

Am I complicated? Oh so very much. Quite so. I am layer after layer of pain masqueraded behind plastic lips and lying eyes. And don’t tell me that eyes give people away. Sure, they can. But eyes can lie.

And what happens when you get lost in the lies of those pretty eyes.

You burn.

You get dragged in, inch by inch until all you have left is a memory of your soul. Perhaps an ember or two.

 

-Nov. 22 2015

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Life is Weird…and Contradictory

So are people.

I know I am.

 

I don’t really understand how I can be really low, totally depressed or suffering AND really optimistic and hopeful, feeling kinda pretty good.

But I can. Doesn’t make a lick of sense.

Humans are a lot more complicated than I think we give ourselves credit for.

If we feel more than one thing – we *must* be crazy, with multiple personality disorder or something. Did you know they changed the name of that disorder quite a while ago, to “dissociative identity disorder” or DID? I wonder why they change the names of things so freaking often and no one seems to know.

Anywho, we can feel a huge range of emotions at once. We can be more than one thing at a time. I don’t know about anyone else, but that’s been a foreign ideal to me before now.

 

I get so tired of people telling me that if I were emotionally unstable, I wouldn’t be able to hide it.

Don’t tell me that.

I am a walking act.

All my painful secrets stay inside.

I haven’t known how I could be anything but ‘happy’ and still feel what I feel, hiding it all the while.

I’m optimistic, I’m hopeful.

But that is not all that I am.

Don’t tell me that if I’m bubbly, smiling, or kind, that I can’t possibly be in pain, physically and emotionally. Don’t tell me, when I open up to you, that this isn’t possible.

Why are people so willing to take everyone at face value and so unwilling to believe that there’s ANYTHING, something, beneath the surface???

I thought I was working on all of this stuff but I found I haven’t even made a dent. I guess getting really sick is good. Health failing obviously equals that something is wrong. It just takes a lot of pain to wake me up.

Then again, I am human. I guess human beings have to realize something over and over again until something pings in just the right way that we’ll believe, too.

 

The holidays ran me over and have been dragging me down lollipop infested roads. So perhaps I’ll have something more to say next month. ;)

On that note, HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Try not to eat yourself to death. Or children. Don’t eat children either.

 

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Mirrors

Do you ever feel like you’ve walked into a room filled with mirrors, from ceiling to floor, wall to wall?

It’s dark, nothing else is visible.

Like a dream.

Fog, mist… its crawling through the room in a muted charade. Keeping you ever in the dark. The very room you’re standing in, feet from the wall, close enough to touch, and yet you can’t see what’s there.

Only the  mirrors.

Just the mirrors.

Always the mirrors.

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Good Intentions

Sometimes I feel like I try to show too much of myself here, on my blog.

In reality, I don’t.

And I feel like, by doing so, that I’ve applied another mask.

I’m not being honest by doing this. I’m not forcing out honesty.

I’m just forcing, in general. And nothing honest ever comes from forcing. Or helpful or creative or … well, anything good. I mean, you can’t FORCE creativity. Come on now?!

I’m coming away with all these odd things and angles and it’s not working.

I don’t need to bend over backwards, crawl out of the way, hire you a servant, and pay your way. I just need to show up and be me.

So, instead of trying to push something out of myself through my fingertips into the keyboard, I’m just going to be.

You’re not going to get so many explanations from me but you’ll find you’ll be getting more truth for the less amount of words.

 

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