2015 Time Machine Blogging Challenge : Past = Perfect

Dearest Odyssians,

litebeing chronicles time machine challenge via eyesofodysseus

I am at a loss for words. Here is the challenge I’ve agreed to take on, courtesy of Linda Lite at Litebeing Chronicles – Time Machine Blogging Challenge.

Directions: Pick a time in your life that was critical to your development. You can go back or forwards in time. It can be real or imagined. After all, it is real if you imagine it!

Choose an idea or a skill or a value you hold dear in the present and infuse it into that time period.

Share your story of what happens to positively impact your life.

Truth: This blogging challenge has me challenged.

Truth: I have regrets (things about my past I’d like to go back and change). But sharing them here seems too personal (and more than a little selfish). Though I’ve maintained impeccable anonymity throughout my three years of blogging, revealing the lowest points of my life – the points I have any legit desire to go back in time and talk myself out of doing or handling differently to avert known results, takes impossible amounts of vulnerability and bravery that I do not have at this time. Forgive me. And forgive my poor punctuation.

Truth: I’m no axe murderer, or DUI drunk that killed a family of six in a minivan. I havent been to jail or ruined someone’s life, not even my own.

Truth: The regrets are still real.

Truth: While I have gotten over a major need to go back and change the past, I wish I could go back in time and talk to me when I was in my darkest, loneliest times, the times where I felt I had no purpose or validation or future.

Here’s what I would say to the me then:

You are a writer. You are a good writer. Maybe even a great writer. But you won’t know this until you spend years (your 20’s) trying to be a DJ, music composer, artist, painter, graphic designer, waitress, bartender, club hopper, and lay about. This run-around exercise – acting against ‘self’ and ‘destiny’ – will last seven years…or more…. hang in there. The sooner you start writing though, the sooner you can move on.

You are a writer. You are a good writer. Maybe even a great writer, but you won’t know this until you exit the terrible relationships you entered with people you had no true connection of future with because you were busy trying to find purpose in your life. They weren’t wife beaters, but you weren’t the next coming of Picasso either. Your true purpose is being a writer. And when you find it you will meet people as your true authentic self. And you will not be worried about inflating non existent accomplishments, or proving your worth against anyone else’s worth, because you will have, and know, your own. And though you may stumble upon this tendency to doubt your purpose and your power, and your essential self, now and again (as past bleeds into present), stay strong, and true. And love will meet you half way.

You are a writer. You are a good writer. Maybe even a great writer. So start writing now, no matter how much you don’t want to and keep at it. Don’t let those small poems and beginnings of short stories you didn’t believe were worth finishing sit in a top drawer next to old receipts and chapstick and become meaningless/unfinished fluff. Save them. Savour them. Share them. They are good enough for other people to see. And they are the beginnings of finding your true self and purpose.

You are a writer. You are a good writer. Maybe even a great writer. So start writing and sharing even when you are too scared to do it. Don’t hold back on the truth you feel in your heart. You were made to feel ‘different’ as you often do. Your one-of-a-kind experience of feeling alone in your views of the world are real. Your way of recounting it is unique, your voice is yours alone… But you must share it with other people so you can find magnificent connection and understanding across many seas, lands, and time zones. Then you will see that your unique voice resonates with others. This is a good and powerful thing, and does not diminish purpose or experience; it authenticates them. Do not be afraid to share what this ‘original’ voice is. Just be sure to keep it geniune. And keep writing it, so it grows stronger, more personal, more brazen, and more bold, and therefore, more relatable.

You are a good writer. Not a great writer. Not yet. Not until you sit down at the keyboard and sweat it out for hours everyday. Not until you give up all other notions of wealth and fame and fortune falling out of the sky to give you something to do and take your worries away, and not until you stop hiding and running away from the keyboard. The only way to get to that place you need to be as the writer you want to be is the put the work in. No shirking, no jiving, and no running. Just sitting at the keyboard and doing. And more doing and more sitting at the keyboard – Facing those crippling fears that keep you from pressing the send button, until you’ve sat so long you press send because you can’t sit and wait anymore. This will happen much sooner than you think. And more often, once it’s been done that first time, bad punctuation and all.

You are a good writer. People will read what you have to say. No ones going to be upset by your views, or hold them against you, or hate you. No one cares. And they probably won’t for years. And when they do, you’ll have made it. Which means more people are reading and relating to you than you ever could have imagined. How’s that for facing your fears and welcoming what the universe has in store?

You can be a great writer. But you must always knows that the advice I’m giving you now will never not be true. You will never feel as if your work is good enough. You will never be completely satisfied that anything is done. You will never know how good your writing is until you have the guts to share it. Then someone may tell you (but don’t count on it) and then that feeling of “I am a great writer” will disappear the next morning, or as soon as you sit down at the keyboard and challenge yourself to write again. It is a part of writing. It doesn’t always feel great because it is art, and there are no guidelines in art, and if you are being your authentic self the words you are sharing have never been shared before. And that ain’t easy.

Truth: Its happening right now. I don’t like what I’ve written here today. But i am sharing it. and maybe one day in the future I’ll look back and say, I wish I could go back to that October day in 2015 and say… press the send button, silly. It isn’t your best writing. and you didn’t share all of the events of the past that you’ve thought about fixing many a time. But maybe because you can have this conversation in your head about not being afraid to share this, you’ve made tremendous strides as a writer, and as a human trying to do her best on a strange planet spinning around a quadrant of the vast universe that poses many more exciting questions than it gives answer to. And maybe one of your friends who is purposed to be a writer, but is still afraid to be a writer, is reading this, and will say… I am a writer. and I better start writing today, despite my fears. Because it won’t always be easy, but it does get easier.

Thank you to all of my Odyssians for reading. and for understanding.

And thank you to Linda LIteBeing for allowing a valuable platform that delves into the darkest and dangerous parts of our psyches… facing the parts of our selves we wish we could change, but can’t. All we can do is move forward and ask what these six words have to do with it all anyway:


Was there ever any other way things could have gone? were we ever in control? are we now?  how could we ever know what was right or wrong, until we did it? did we not do our best at that time. will we not make mistakes again? Are we not better for having made them, and learning. For there is no advancement without loss or pain.

And none of us is privy to the future. and none, not even the gods, can change the past. It is solely up to us to think about our lives (and what we’ve done) in different ways. And hope that we prepare ourselves for the future with wiser and more forgiving eyes.

Hugs and many thank you’s,

O and OM.

****Please check out more Time Machine Challenges and follow tomorrow’s (October 10, 2015) addition by Tiramit.


Amazing nature landscapes: firestorm

Dearest odyssians,


Theres a fire in our hearts about this novel weve written. Our first drafts 85 percent complete and only 30 percent crap. Or so we believe. We hope the inner fire is enough to propel us past our doubts and doubters. And reality,
O and om ♡

amazing nature landscapes: ethereal uluru

dearest odyssians,

uluru pic via eyesofodysseus

another wondrous site to behold. thanks planet earth!


o and om

but before we officially sign off for the evening, did i mention that i got super long nails done/glued on at the salon as a kind of spring time awakening thing. well they are hard as hell to type in. i wonder how odie does it? :) As his faithful owner and official “keeper of the well trimmed claw” ( i dutifully clip his lil demon claws every couple of week – i would never declaw a cat!) i must say that he really owes me one for keeping his nails at a nice length for the keyboard. if it weren’t for me how would he be able to do the copy editing and the spellchecking.

oh thats right…

hugs again,

o and om


Amazing nature landscapes: beach supreme

Dearest odyssians,
Ahhh Beach supreme. . You call to me and say, “Leave negative degree weather and take up airplane taxi train sandal and raft, rentable chair and tacky colorful beach towel to meet me”. and oh how I want to. As i write to you now i must first make one small confession: though its been weeks since I left you (idiot, me) I still daily crave the taste of those delicious pina coladas mixed with sweet strawberry puree served in cheap plastic cups sipped by large guage straws concocted by some wizard bartender at the Hawaiian themed bar place next to you (..like an addict after liquid crack. Who knows? Maybe there was real cocaine in those drinks? Yes, they tasted that good.) But alas its really you, beach supreme, that I truly miss.
Oh, beach supreme, believe me when I cry that your dazzling, bountiful sands still awestrike me more than any other. My eyes are whiplashed by the sheer rememberence of the vision of your tremendous yards long beauty. the mental sight of your gently cascading waves coupled with the sound of your soothing waters rush cripples me with longing.  All I can do is suffer your absence and bite my fists with my teeth til I can bear the pain of the biting no longer- for I know it would takes thousands of green backs and hours of planning,  and inclement weather, and crazy taxi drivers playing way too loud salsa music, and an airport patdown in those places only your sands have seen, and a xanax-less flight with mild turbulence that will have me crying for gods mercy on my sinning soul that I may survive to safely reach you ;That I might Feel the same warm suns that warm you again, That I might tan my cancer free skin (knock on wood) and that my shadow might etch upon you, my ideal backdrop again, That I might bravely sport that sexy monokini I never had the cajones to take the tags off of, and sip that weirdly titled “Lava flow” pina coloda drink (dumb name,  great drink) I mentioned before all upon your maize colored grit blanket of sand.
But since that wont be soon, or easy, We beg you beach supreme, in our weakened state,  where winter weather has stripped us bare  of all hope and happiness for the future, just as it has stripped the trees of all their green.. Why cant you come to us? Well be waiting and fist biting, until you do**
O and om
**im in chicago. Have mercy.

may you be

dear odyssians


we wish you the merriest of merries, upon a midnight stunningly clear. may the next few days bring you the best of tidings.,May beauty seek andfind you;by showing itself in the most unexpected places.may your families and loves be safe. may those in your care appreciate your kindness. mayyou know yourself truly without question or doubt, if only for the briefest moment. may you find the happiness youve been seeking, and recognize its fulfillment. may you blessed.

i would alsolike to thank everyone fortheirwonderful holiday good wishes ( @ rumpydog and crazytrain). your thoughtfulness warmed my and odies heart. your wonderful blogs are always in our sightline).

love always and goodbless you everyone,

♡ o and om

fathers by Disfarmer

i just love the baby in this one!!!

happy fathers day!!!!

these photos  of fathers/grandfathers/uncles/husbands/sons (future fathers) and their families are courteousy mike disfarmer. he was a talented photographer who worked as the town portrait taker for huber arkansas.  in the 1930’s and 40’s. he was also quite the recluse/hermit strange fellow and claimed to be have been tossed up on the doorstep of the meyer family as a baby by a tornado. he never knew his real mother and father. later he distanced himself from the Meyers (which translates to Farmer in german) by changing his last name to Dis-farmer. no one in the town really knew them. yet his photos show that he was able to capture powerfully revealing images of those in the town.

for more mike disfarmers backstory:


i love the expressions of the people in the portraits. theyre completely genuine. as are the poses.  the subjects look into the camera without pretense, reservation, doubt, or vanity. he/she is not conscious of what you will think when you behold the final print. we the viewer can see their eyes and personalities clearly.  the photos create the unique affect in which it appears the subjects are looking at us with crystalline/laserlike precision.  do you get that feeling as well when you see them?

these pics are wholly unlike the photos everyones taking today and splashing about for popular/audience consumption.  i think thats why disfarmers work has risen to popularity in our modern arena of  overt self promotion. as a testiment to disfarmer’s current favor his prints of these once private family photos are now selling for  $800 dollars a pop. if you would like to spring for one visit…


i feel like im the last person to have found the disfarmer bandwagon/greyhound bus and jumped on it, but i dont mind. ill squeeze into that last avail. seat thats in the back corner next to the smelly bathroom and behind the luggage rack with no window and proudly claim it as my own. i love his work.  a seat near the front should be opening up soon…. thats how trends work.

disfarmers back story is also incredibly interesting.  theres a documentary about the puppet show that was produced about him (its called Puppet and avail. on netflix. i recommend it highly). thats what led me to his photos.

alrighty kids and fathers and sons and daughters and wives and mothers and grandparents and uncles aunts siblings halfs and steps..and family pets.

we are off to watch another movie.and then off to bed.

love odie and odie mama.