Probing questions…

The probe is a delicate dance.  You cannot probe forcefully – it becomes an assault.  To coax  a response that transcends defenses, you must tread carefully.  Gingerly.  Respectfully. Lead  without alarm.

The art of proceeding gingerly is overshadowed by splashier and nosier displays,  temporarily shoving subtlety into the back seat.

A subtle questioning, however, will build a narrative.  The line of breadcrumbs is almost visible.  There is satisfaction in a clever dialogue of questions and answers.  We crave that insight.

We love well-written dialogue on screen and in written word.  The secrets revealed through subtle probing are the payoff.  The gentle dance that underscores the greater commotion is key to pulling the story together.

A fine thread.

 

via Daily Prompt:  Gingerly

photo “Conversation” by tzejen

Food…for thought?

Hungry by Adrian
Hungry? by Adrian

Oh comforter

Whose wise counsel feigned salve to life’s ills

How many days were you my panacea?

Your shadow cast long these many years

Still, emptiness remained

Aha! See there?

You are but food.

 

daily prompt:  panacea

 

‘to commit to memory…’

 “I’m never going to forget this.”

“I will never forget that face.”  

“Hell will freeze over before I forget this!”

Then the fairy trickster godmother sentences that item to a remote, sticky glob of grey matter.

A mixed bag of blessings, I would say.  Whilst clawing through cobwebs and grey ooze to find sequestered memories, we live the benefit of forgiveness.  The slate is cleared of all but the dimmest trace of what we seek.

There is freedom in letting go.

I guess that’s why stuff is so important to humans; our sensory ‘calendar’ marking our journey.  To be sure, not every item is precious.  Every item is, however, evidence of a life lived.  What a pity to rely on such tangible proof.

Damn! I think I just understood a tiny bit of what hoarders must deal with.  Eeegads!

I’m going to go sort out some stuff right now!

Via Daily Prompt:  Memorize

Header Image:  Matt Gibson’s Brain

These old boots…

When was it, exactly, that my hubs became enamored with retirement?  It’s been at least a couple years, I’d say.  His passionate dream of not clocking in has paralleled my journey of inability to work.  Me, at home, with assorted physical limitations.  Him, at work, with a longing not to be there.

On Thurs., 8/24/2017, our two worlds converged.  He is retired.

retirement - boots

Never, in all our married life of 35 years, have we lived a ‘typical’ work schedule.  I have worked mostly a 9 to 5 -type work week, M-F.  He has worked various shifts, the odd days off, holidays, etc.  It meant he missed a lot of events over the years.  It meant I was a quasi-single mom.  It kept us fed, housed, clothed.  He and I did the best we could with what we had.

You know, like most of us!

And now what lies ahead? Grand schemes for travel? Great building projects? Second careers?

For now, we’re learning how to share space.  He is trying on his freedom, finding small projects, rising and retiring at “normal” times.  I am a fly on the wall — watching.  My goal is not to interfere too much, allowing him to feel and experiment with this strange landscape.  He has worked since he was a young teen.  He is 64 now.  He doesn’t know it yet, but he probably will struggle a bit with the sheer strangeness of it all.

Either way, I’m here.

via Daily Prompt:  Enamored.

Photo:  Retirement by Mark Bonica