Pollyanna and the Meandering of Thursday

Lyda here. I feel a compulsion to write a post, even though I don’t really have anything to say. But then, as Anna-Liza will tell you, I’ve never let that stop me…

“To blog, or not to blog, that is the question…”

The Twisted Tree was still standing when I got home last night. I’m starting to hope that maybe it won’t be cut down after all. But I’m afraid to believe, because then it will hurt all the more if they do cut it down.

I’ve spent a lot of my time being afraid. Afraid to believe. Afraid to trust. Afraid to try. Afraid of what others will think.

Yeah, that old enemy.

Anna-Liza bought me a book years ago, “Getting in Touch with Your Inner Bitch” by Elizabeth Hilts. You need to read this book if you answer “yes” to one of these questions: “1) Have you ever wanted to give someone a piece of your mind and eaten a piece of cake instead? 2) How about the whole cake?”

I have read it so many times that it’s falling apart. I pull it out when I’ve been being too nice. ‘Cause too much nice and soon a lady finds herself in her nightgown in the middle of the street, screaming at the top of her lungs. At which point they may take away my pointy sticks.

Marge Simpson knows what I’m talking about here.

“How do I blog thee, let me count the posts…”

Afraid to believe… in anything, sometimes. Douglas Adams called it “The Long Dark Teatime of the Soul.”

There have been times when I didn’t believe that the sun would come up again. Ya’ll know what I’m talking about here. And yet, somehow, it always did.

Now I find it comforting to know that even when I can’t see the sun, it’s still there, blazing away in space.

“You don’t have to see something to know it exists.” (Movie title, Marin? Starred Tim Allen…)

One of my school books said that the sky is always there. Sometimes it’s covered with clouds, but the blue sky is always there.

“I blog, therefore I am.”

Afraid to trust… oh, trust is a scary one. Trust a man and he could hurt me. Trust is something that I’ve often given too soon and later paid the price.

In school, I learned about “discernment.” Not rejecting anyone out of hand, but discerning whom I prefer to spend time with and what I choose to share with them. I can now look inside and say, “Am I interested in getting to know him better?”

Believe me, this is a A Giant Leap for Lydakind. I lived for a long time in Just a Girl Who “Cain’t Say No” Land. Ya’ll maybe know what I’m talking about here.

Suddenly this year, I saw that trust can be built over time. Hey, I hear that relationships can be built over time too. I’m interested in trying this out, instead of demanding that they spring full-blown from Zeus’ forehead, or wherever the hell I thought they came from.

“I’ll blog it my way…”

 Afraid to try… So we come to this one. Am I brave enough to try again? Can I truly sing: “I’m ready to take a chance again…”?

“That’s pretty brave talk for a one-eyed fat man.” Hey, in that movie, the guy who said that got his hat handed to him by none other than John Wayne.

If John can do it, so can I.

Line forms to the right. Those bearing gifts go to the front of the line.

But this time, you must pass the Gauntlet of the Knittas before you get a key to the castle.

Be warned! There be Pointy Sticks here, matey! Argh!