It’s spooky season again, so I thought I’d bring back last year’s ghost stories — all true, all strange, and all unforgettable :
Ghost Story #1 : The Man of the House
Ghost Story #2 – The Ouija Board
Whether you believe in ghosts or not, these stories still give me chills.
What’s the creepiest thing you’ve ever experienced? Tell me in the comments!
Happy Halloween everyone!!! 🎃🖤
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Rock on!
I don’t want to keep you all waiting, so here’s the first chapter of the novella I’m working on 😊
If you have no clue what I’m talking about, you can read my intro here : Writing My Way Through Memory: The Novella That Found Me
However, I did fail to mention in my intro post that the chapter titles are going to be referencing song titles for various reasons. You’ll see!
Without further ado…
I’ve never been very good at making friends. I was an only child growing up, and I was always a little “weird”, so that doesn’t help.
That’s probably why I liked gas station jobs so much. Nobody expects depth from you there — just a transaction, a smile, maybe a joke if the moment feels right. You meet everyone: the kids with loose change and sticky fingers, the wealthy guy in a suit barking into his phone, the quiet woman who only buys scratch-offs, the old man who needs company as much as cigarettes. In those fleeting moments, you get the entire spectrum of humanity. And sometimes, if you’re lucky, you get to leave a spark behind.
“The Apple” was the fourth store I worked at, but my first in a city. The sheer volume of feet walking through the doors was exhilarating – The constant noise of chatter, cooler doors opening & closing, receipts printing, people complaining. Some people would hate that chaos. I found my zen.
That day, the line was brutal. I was dealing with a woman who suddenly decided she needed everything within reach — chips, gum, batteries, a lighter she’ll never use. Her pile on the counter in front of me grew by the second. I plastered on my polite smile, though inside I was trying to figure out where I could bury her without getting caught.
Then I noticed someone peeking around her. Over the course of what felt like a million glances between us, I’d noticed arms covered with vibrant ink that looked like stories etched into skin, a NOFX shirt worn soft at the edges, camo cargo shorts, and the kind of stance that said he was comfortable in his own chaos – my “type”, wrapped up in an adorable little package.
Then our eyes met.
“Oh, shit,” I thought, as goosebumps covered my arms. His eyes were the most dangerous shade of blue I’d ever seen: sharp, alive, sparkling with beautiful trouble. Something about him felt familiar, like we’d been circling each other across lifetimes. Married in another universe, maybe. Strangers here. I was officially intrigued.
My coworker called him over to her register – “Camel Wides,” he said. A million more glances between us for those few seconds while she cashed him out.
He glanced at me once more, the shy smile of a kid with a crush this time, then walked out the door.
I told myself that was that. A fleeting spark. Something to tuck away and smile about later.
Still, curiosity gnawed at me. As soon as my line cleared, I leaned toward my coworker.
“What’s his deal?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, that’s just Jack. He flirts with everyone.”
“Noted,” I muttered, pretending I didn’t care. But I kinda did.
A couple hours later, the store phone rang.
“Hi, is this Sally?”
“Yep,” I replied.
“I was just in there a little bit ago, I don’t know if you remember – bald guy with tattoos? I think I forgot something while I was there.”
“Where, on the counter??” I said as I started looking around.
“No, I forgot to ask for your number.”
There it already was – the infamous “flirts with everyone”.
Part of me wanted to laugh, part of me wanted to give him my number, and part of me remembered my reality.
I took a steadying breath. “Well, I appreciate the offer, but… I’m in a relationship.”
A soft pause. “Fair enough. Worth a shot.”
We said goodbye. I hung up, convinced that was the end of it.
Holy hell was I wrong.
Next thing I know, I had a friend request on Facebook.
“How’d you find me on Facebook?!?” I asked.
“Well, you’re the only Sally who works at The Apple in town. So…it wasn’t that hard,” he chuckled.
“Better question I guess would be why did you find me on Facebook?” I was mildly creeped out. Still intrigued though.
“I want to get to know you. Is that ok?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Over the course of months, we got to know each other a little bit.
One night, we went outside the store to hang out for a few minutes.
“Everything kinda sucks right now,” he said with a duller tone than usual. “So I signed up to go to Iraq in November. To get away from ‘normal’ life for a bit. Maybe get some perspective. Or at least some distraction.”
“You’re in the army?!?” I asked.
“10 years and counting!”
He went on. “I got a TBI a few years ago, on duty. I don’t even know what happened, other than I was knocked out for a few minutes. Apparently nothing too serious, but I do get symptoms of a stroke sometimes. Nobody knows why – Nothing shows on MRI scans.”
Where was this coming from all of a sudden? He’d never really opened up to me before – always just passing conversation when he’d stop in for gas or whatever. I couldn’t help but wonder what brought this on, but I wasn’t about to pry.
“I’m not gonna lie, you really don’t seem like the ‘army’ type to me…whatever that means,” I admitted.
He shrugged. “I’m also a corrections officer. And I used to be a cop.”
My heart jumped into my throat. Maybe he’s not so much my “type”.
“Why the hell would you do that?!?” I said half jokingly. He always seemed so chill, & fun. I could see if he were an EMT or something like that. But law enforcement?!?
“I knew I could.”
I laughed. “Well, I could’ve been a prostitute, but that doesn’t mean I should!”
“Good point,” he smiled.
“What else should I know about you?” I asked inquisitively.
“Hm. Well…I’m divorced. I have 3 kids with my ex wife. We were stationed together in Washington, and then she ran off across to country with the kids. That’s how I ended up here – I’m not about to let her keep them from me for no good reason.”
I was shocked. Why would she do that to him?!? She must have had her reasons, but I can’t imagine he could deserve that. There must be more to know…
“3 kids!? How old are you?!?” I asked.
“35. How old are you?”
“23” I giggled shyly. “Zero kids…so far!”
“Don’t rush it, trust me!” he smiled & shook his head at himself.
November came & went. He never gave me the chance to give him a hug & wish him well before he left, so I assumed I’d never see him again.
Again.
An opportunity to work at a hospital and make more money came along, so I took it.
And I didn’t hesitate to look back. At least, that’s what I thought at the time.
What did you think of Chapter One? I’d love to know if any moments stood out to you — drop a comment below or share your favorite line.
Stay tuned for Chapter Two — and hit “like” & “subscribe” if you’re along for the ride.
Rock on. 🤘
Some stories don’t ask permission — they just show up, unpack their bags, and move into your head. This one’s been living rent-free in mine for months, and I finally gave in and started writing.
So I started writing a novella a couple months ago. I’ve mentioned it here briefly, but my current lack of motivation to work on blog posts is making me think it might be worth sharing chapters of this very alive story from time to time, and I thought I’d prepare you all for that! 😆
It’s not fully planned out, and it’s still very much in progress. It’s very raw & personal. It’s about the friend I’ve mentioned that I’ve been missing a lot lately. (Well, the first part of it is about him, & things that actually happened.) – I just appreciate giving a little more life to our relationship, and honoring what we had. Cuz it was pretty epic.
So I hope you’ll enjoy the ride as I work on it occasionally. (Don’t worry, my “regular” content will still be the primary focus on my blog. – This is just a “side quest”, if you will.)
About a year ago now, someone said something that reminded me of an old friend, and all kinds of memories came flooding back about him. Relentlessly, because I was starting to feel some burnout from a situation I’d been dealing with for a couple years prior.
He was always a source of love, comfort, & valuable perspective, even when he was dealing with his own struggles. He was someone I respected, admired, & adored immensely. His resilience & strength fed into my own and helped shape the woman I grew to be, even while he wasn’t around.
We never dated; our love was always platonic (though we probably would’ve jumped on each other if given the opportunity!!) I never felt that I was capable of loving him the way he needed & deserved, and I think he felt the same way. I always felt that friendship was definitely better than nothing, and I still would have his back forever if he’d let me.
He ghosted me after a misunderstanding that he apparently didn’t want to work out. Which was the worst heartbreak of my life, if I’m being completely honest.
With all those memories flooding back, along came the same unresolved grief I’d experienced over ten years ago but with a more mature perspective.
So I decided to try to turn it into something as beautifully chaotic as it is. Maybe it’ll help me find more peace with the situation, maybe not. But it deserves it’s tiny place in literary history, cuz it was a hell of a ride!
Fair warning – the characters are ACCIDENTALLY named Jack & Sally. I say accidentally because he’s a fan of Nightmare Before Christmas, and that’s not at all what the names are in reference to lol! When trying to think of names, I decided the girl’s name would be Sally because that was my “pen name” online back then (because of the Foxboro Hot Tubs’ song by that name). Jack struck me as an “edgy guy name”. And then I realized what I had done…and decided not to care!
Ultimately, the story will follow Jack & Sally from when they met, and throughout decades. Obviously, a fair amount of the beginning is based on real memories, while the latter parts will drift into fiction based on experiences with other people in my life, including a little tragedy (which I wouldn’t wish on anyone, especially “Jack”). For the most part though, it’s somewhere between a fun, lighthearted love story, and a reckoning.
So far, writing it has been a treat! I’ve really enjoyed reminiscing about how sweet & fun that relationship was. It’s really been filling my heart with the same love I felt back then.
I’m only about 2½ chapters in at this point. A couple spots were tough to figure out how to put together, but I think I managed. Everything that’s in there is in there for a reason.
I’m learning just how emotionally stoic I tend to be. And how passionate he tended to be. Which could balance us at times, and throw us extremely off balance at other times.
I’ve also realized just how much we genuinely loved each other. Which makes the heartache suck even more now than it did back then.
When do I find time to write? Mostly in the mornings, after I finish my essential focus work, and only if I don’t have a blog post to work on. In other words, rarely. But once I get started, I never wanna stop – I wish I could work on it all day every day! ❤️
This story isn’t just a recall of events, but more of an extension of my life philosophy & heart. Lots of emotional territory will get explored, from love to loss, to healing & rebellion & a sense of identity (even when that gets shaken).
I’ll be sharing bits and pieces here as I go — maybe some full chapters, maybe just thoughts from the process. So if you like watching a story come alive in real time, stick around. This one’s going to be interesting.
What would you like to see — more “behind the scenes” posts or the chapters themselves?
And tell me this: what kind of stories haunt your mind until you write them down?
Let’s chat in the comments.
If this post resonated, give it a like, share it with a friend, and subscribe for more messy, heartfelt creative chaos.
Rock on. 🤘
Technically, May is ALS Awareness Month — but for me, the awareness never ends. I live with it every October.
Which super sucks because my allergy season starts at the end of August & lasts throughout September. Couple that with always catching the same cold everyone gets at the end of September, and my body & mind is just shot by the time October rolls around.
October is my birth month. But it’s also the anniversary of my mom passing away. So…everything sucks.
Brace yourself for some “heavy shit”. I’d like to share why I am the way I am, what shaped my perspectives as I grew up, and how I’m doing right now.
I actually started writing a post explaining my family’s history with ALS, but it’s still sitting unfinished in my drafts because it depresses the fuck out of me. I’ll probably share it sometime though.
My mom got sick when I was 14, right around Thanksgiving. She started having trouble swallowing & speaking because she had “bulbar onset ALS”, which means her tongue was becoming paralyzed.
In the months that followed, I became a major caregiver for her. I found myself helping her on the phone & in person with debt collectors, doctors, everyone. It got to the point where I was the only one who could still understand what she was saying without her having to write anything down.
Then she couldn’t swallow at all anymore. So, she had a GI tube placed in her stomach so she could still get some nutrition. I helped “feed” her, and with cleaning the tube.
Nobody bothered to tell me that ALS progresses aggressively in our family – until recently, no one’s survived longer than 18 months from the onset of symptoms. I thought I had time.
By the time the school year started, she was in pretty rough shape. But I was still more than happy to continue my duties as a caregiver. However, my mom’s sister had other plans. She stepped in to help, ultimately pushing me out of the way so I could “focus on school”. (How the fuck was I supposed to focus on school with my mom wasting away at home? I digress…)
October rolled around, and she was rapidly getting weak in her limbs. Hospice was welcomed in. A hospital bed was placed in the living room for her. One of the aides stole money from my parents. Her diaphragm had become paralyzed & she refused to be intubated (because at that point, the stark reality of the situation is “why bother?”) Everything sucked.
Four days after my 15th birthday, she passed away.
I was in my room listening to Rancid after dinner. Between songs, I heard a terrible noise from out in the living room. So I stopped & listened at the door. I knew I didn’t want to face the situation; I knew what was happening. So I spent a moment trying to find the courage to face the reality.
I walked out & stopped in the doorway to the living room. My mom’s spit sucker was full of blood, and she was laying there lifeless with my dad, aunt, & uncle crying around her. She’d died of respiratory failure – in other words, she’d just choked to death on her own blood. The terrible noise was my aunt’s despair. The whole thing was horrific. Happy fuckin’ birthday.
My dad walked up & gave me a hug; that’s literally the only time I’d ever seen that man cry. When he let go, I walked over & held my aunt as she repeatedly screamed “I’m sorry, I did everything I could”. I didn’t shed a tear. Because that’s how I am – deal with the situation, & get emotional about it later.
As a side note… There were a couple things I’d found out about much later that I wish I’d known sooner. For example, my mom had sleeping pills that she wanted to use before things got too bad for her to use them, and my aunt told her “she couldn’t do that to (me)”. Had I known, I would’ve not only given them to her to shorten her horrific suffering, I would’ve been able to say good bye.
Well…
I sat on the couch in front of her. My dad & uncle went outside to smoke cigarettes & drink for a little bit, while my aunt went in the kitchen to call the coroner & family members. They were understandably traumatized.
I got to thinking about how a body is just a shell. That this corpse in front of me was not my mom; my mom was with me in spirit. I could feel it.
Eventually, our vessels will fail us all. It doesn’t necessarily mean the end of our existence, though none of us truly know what happens in the next phase.
Then I realized I was sitting alone with my mother’s still twitching corpse. I got it in my head that this is how it is – I’m alone in dealing with everything for the rest of my life; I’m expected to be there for everyone else, and I don’t deserve anyone being there for me. After all, I was barely 15, sitting alone with my mother’s still twitching corpse.
And I screamed in devastated rage. I can still feel it, I can still hear myself. No one should have to feel like that.
My aunt came running & wrapped her arms around me. She told me “I know”. No, you have no idea. Everyone had already abandoned me & my grief. You can’t really come back from that.
Fast forward to the funeral a few days later…
Everyone met at my grandma’s house. When it was time to leave for the church, I was forced toward the front of the line out the door.
She had a doorway from the kitchen to the stairs where the basement was, and then another doorway to the sun room, and then a doorway out of the house.
It was pouring all day. Quiet thunder rumbled in the distance.
The very second I stepped foot in the doorway to the sun room, it was like lightning struck in the yard – the loudest boom I’ve ever heard in my life & everything went completely white for a moment. I stopped dead in my tracks & was immediately hit with the idea that “this is the dawning of the rest of my life”. My aunt gently pushed me out the doorway.
And that’s the attitude I felt the need to develop from there on – You don’t get to stop, you don’t get to feel. You just keep going, pushing forward, else you’ll get sucked into a pit of despair.
I know better. I even knew better then. It inevitably always catches up to you eventually. But I had no choice; I was pushed out the door without acknowledgement.
At her funeral, I stood away from everyone. I wore a beautiful black velvet dress and held a red rose that someone had given me. I looked stunning.
But everyone seemed scared of me. Most of them didn’t even know who I was, nor did I know them. Why were they even there?!? They weren’t around my whole life, they weren’t around when she was sick… Why bother being there at her funeral, “honoring” her & “expressing” condolences? I was infuriated. But at least I looked good… Ugh.
I’d forgotten about all of these things for years after.
About 10 years later, I got it in my head that I’d like to advocate for ALS awareness & research. So I decided to start by participating in the local “Walk to Defeat ALS” fundraiser.
Even my family members didn’t donate. (Well, I think one forked over 20 bucks.)
During that time, I found myself researching my family’s history with the disease online. Much to my surprise (& horror), there’s a lot more articles about us than I ever imagined. (And many many more now.)
That’s when I learned that we have one of the most aggressive SOD1 mutations in recorded medical history. Unlike everyone else who gets ALS, hereditary or sporadic, it wipes us out incredibly quick. And if we want to bother getting tested to find out whether or not we’ve been cursed with the gene, a positive result for the mutation means there’s a 96% chance that that’s our death sentence.
The genetic time bomb ticks louder in my ear every year. Even though I’ve never been tested.
It was at this time that all these memories came flooding back to me. I’d apparently repressed them, and they came back like a raging wildfire, tearing me the fuck apart in the process.
All those memories came back about a year after my father had his first stroke & cancer, and I was his only caregiver (for 12 years after, until he passed away).
And that was also when I lost my friend that I’ve mentioned briefly in previous posts…. Because I was too overwhelmed to know how to express all this to him properly.
Here we are.
I’m mentally & emotionally burned out from staying strong for the sake of taking care of my family during some chaos that lasted much too long.
So give me some grace as I work through all this mess – I’ll keep up with my weekly posts as best I can (& they should be more uplifting than this one!)
And thank you for giving me the space to vent – I hope I didn’t ruin your day LOL ❤️
If you’ve ever carried a loss that never fully leaves, know you’re not alone. Writing about it helps — even if it takes decades to find the words.
Rock on, and take care of your heart. ❤️
“Where I’m at” posts are just updates about what’s going on in my life, based on the areas / roles in my life.
eating – SOUP!! 😋
drinking – Barefoot Zinfandel, warm lemon water
watching – I haven’t really been into too many shows lately. Twisted Metal & You are still favorites. I like Joel McHale as the host of the 1% Club, and I absolutely loathe Martin Short as host of Match Game (come back, Alec!! 😭)
reading – “The Last Time They Met”, by Anita Shreve (it’s a little dry so far). Finished “One Italian Summer” last month – it was good, kinda interesting premise, but a bit too drawn out for me to ever want to read it again lol
playing – Nothing, really
buying – Everything in Spirit Halloween LOL
listening to – At this particular second, “21 Guns” by Green Day
celebrating – My birthday, I guess 😅, Halloween
pinning – “Free Spirit”, “Funny Shit”, & “Food”
planning – On getting some tattoos and maybe going to the casino buffet for my birthday
feeling – Egh. Whatever. lol
Last year, I shared a post about the idea of a “Do Nothing Day”, & it seemed like quite a few people found the concept pretty interesting. So, I thought I’d reintroduce it with a couple of tweaks!
It’s a date you make with yourself where you do nothing. Almost literally.
For example, I spend all week homeschooling, running kids to extracurriculars, writing, cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, and on and on…
On “Do Nothing Day”, I’m not having any of that nonsense!
The dishes & laundry can wait. The kids can entertain & educate themselves a bit. And there’s enough food in the freezer, pantry, & leftovers in the fridge that I shouldn’t have to cook, and nobody’s gonna starve.
I clean my house every day, and still have to clean my house every day. Except “Do Nothing Day”. Cuz…fuck that shit.
It’s perfectly reasonable to take time for your own sanity before you run yourself into burnout city. “You can’t fill others’ from an empty cup” they say; and you can’t run a car on fumes for very long before it causes you even more problems. I’ve “powered through” so much crap in my life, I know how it can sneak up on you.
I prefer to take Sundays as my “Do Nothing Day”. Not for religious reasons; I just figure most people don’t like to do things on Sundays, so there aren’t usually any parties or events to interrupt my plans.
Whatever day works best for you is up to you!
Honestly, these days I call it my “Fuck All Day”; for my kids, it’s “Whatever Day”.
I only try to do things that bring me peace. If that includes doing laundry, so be it. If it includes writing in my journal all day, that’s perfectly fine too.
My diet & exercise routines go out the window. I still do some yoga & tai chi, but I also eat all the carbs. My usually pitch black coffee is infused with pumpkin spice creamer (the only pumpkin spice I like!) and Trader Vic’s Macadamia Nut Liqueur; my breakfast is my ultimate comfort food- Chicken Flavor Maruchan Instant Lunch. 😋 And if there’s leftover chicken wings or pasta salad in the fridge, bet your ass I’m shoveling it in my face!
I reflect on the past week in my journal, and decorate the pages with washi tape, stickers, & photos.
Hubby usually throws something crazy together for dinner (or he just makes steak – what an angel! 😊), and he does the dishes. Or he doesn’t; I don’t really care either way.
And as I said, it’s “Whatever Day” for the kids. I always make them drink some water and eat fruit & protein for breakfast – if they finish that & want more, then they can have cereal or Toaster Strudel or whatever. On “Whatever Day”, they can have pizza & juice for breakfast for all I care.
I usually limit their screen time quite a bit too. But not on “Whatever Day”! Wanna watch videos of adults with too much time on their hands play Minecraft all day? Whatever! (Why?!? Why do people enjoy watching other people play video games, instead of playing the games themselves?!? I’m just too old to understand…)
You could always take it to the next level if you wanted to (or if you don’t have time to carve out weekly) – schedule a “solo retreat” or “staycation”!
I actually read a little book about “Solo Retreats” that was published during the pandemic, which was cute. The book suggested bringing as many of the elements of a “retreat” to your home! I guess it depends on what kind of “retreat” you’re looking for, but it could include a schedule with meditation, yoga, journaling, indulging in hobbies, a fulfilling menu, maybe some fun drinks, candles, a bath, a bonfire… What would you do on a retreat?
Same with “staycations”. What would you do on a vacation that you could do in your own neighborhood? Odds are good that you wouldn’t have to drive far to find historic spots, museums, new boutiques, or restaurants you’ve never tried. Companies make Capri Sun-esque pouches of wine & margaritas that you could take to a lakeshore beach, y’know?
So schedule some time for sanity maintenance – whether a weekly “Do Nothing Day”, a monthly “Solo Retreat”, or an occasional “Staycation” – a little break from routine can go a long way!!
👉 If this gave you ideas, try scheduling your own Do Nothing Day this week. Then come back and tell me how it went!
Rock on!
What did you love to do as a kid? And why the hell did you stop?
Oh yeah, work. And family. And life got in the way.
By the time you finally get a few moments, you’re too wiped out to do more than scroll or crash in front of Netflix.
But is that leaving you feeling fulfilled at the end of the day? Probably not.
So here’s an invitation to consider reigniting some of your youthful passions and bring some spark back into your life, at least a couple days a week!
Whatever lit you up as a kid or a teenager might still give you clues as to what would make you happy as an adult.
It doesn’t matter if they were solo hobbies like writing & reading or active hobbies like skateboarding & playing sports – don’t you think those things might still bring you joy today?
And what do these kinds of activities say about who you were, and still are?
Of course, not every childhood hobby fits neatly into adulthood.
If you liked pretending you were a superhero or building blanket forts, those are great ways to bond with your own kids or nieces & nephews. Or just playing by yourself, I’m not here to judge! – You could create a cozy reading nook instead of a blanket fort, or become an EMT instead of pretending to be a superhero!
Most childhood hobbies can be adapted in some way to your adult life. Pretend games can turn into fabulous fiction books, and climbing trees can look like hiking or mountain climbing.
The possibilities are endless! The point is that play matters throughout your life, regardless of whether it’s literal or adapted.
Returning to old hobbies isn’t just fun — it’s healing! You’re reclaiming pieces of yourself that were left behind.
Nostalgia can be a form of self-care (for example: adult coloring books, roller skating comebacks, LEGOs for grown-ups).
Some hobbies can even evolve into businesses and “side hustles”, but you need to be aware of your passion levels throughout – monetizing too soon can kill the joy, & if it’s not fun, why do it?!?
Writing has always been a thread in my life. As a kid, I made weekly comics for my classmates. That grew into short stories, then poetry, then even some (slightly rebellious) light erotic fiction. For a while, life got in the way and I stopped — but when I sat down to write a little book on goal setting, I remembered how much fun it was. Since then, writing has evolved into blogging, poetry, fiction, and whatever else sparks me in the moment. No profit yet — maybe someday — but the real win is that I found the joy again.
My friend Josh is the perfect example. In high school, his passion was playing guitar. But when it came time for college, he chose engineering — something he was good at, but didn’t love — because it promised steady money. Still, he found ways to keep music alive, freelancing as a guitar teacher and joining a band. When the pandemic hit, he leaned on engineering and made solid money designing blueprints, but he hated every minute of it. As soon as restrictions lifted, he dropped the job and went back to teaching guitar and playing shows. Now he makes a living doing what he loves, and I couldn’t be prouder. 😊
Remember my Excitement Map post?
Are any of your childhood hobbies on there? Should they be?
They might be a gateway to the “Fuck Yeah” zone! 😜
Want to go deeper? Grab your journal and play with these questions. Sometimes the answer to ‘What lights me up?’ is already sitting in the toy box you left behind…
It’s never too late to pick up the sketchbook, the rollerblades, the guitar.
Try one this week. Play, create, explore — then come back and let me know how it felt.
See if it still makes you “fuck yeah”!
If you liked this post, please give it a “like”, share it with friends, and subscribe if you’re new.
Rock on!
The days are getting shorter, and we’re entering the “dark half” of the year – The autumn equinox is on September 22. This is the perfect time for a little introspection to prepare your whole life to hunker down for the rain, snow, & cold (if that’s the weather you get where you are)!
In this post, I’d like to share some journaling prompts to help you contemplate where you’re at and where you’d like to be over the coming months. Prepare for a combination of practical planning and emotional unpacking.
This time of year invites inward focus because there usually aren’t as many events available to steal your outward attention (concerts, carnivals, etc).
It’s always better to spend some time with yourself than it is to scroll social media or binge watch comfort shows on TV.
Journaling gives you a mirror for your inner world — and during darker months, that mirror becomes even more valuable.
✨ Emotional Unpacking
🏡 Home + Environment
🎃 Holidays + Traditions
📅 Planning for the Year Ahead
🎯 Goals + Reflection
This time of year isn’t just about survival — it’s a chance to deepen, let go, and realign. Try at least one of the prompts above, or spread them out over the coming weeks, and see what comes up for you.
Save this list to revisit throughout the season — you might be surprised how your answers shift over time.
Which of these prompts speaks to you most right now? Drop it in the comments or share it with a friend who journals.
If you liked this post, please give it a “like”, and subscribe if you’re new.
Rock on!
“Where I’m at” posts are just updates about what’s going on in my life, based on the areas / roles in my life.
eating – I’M EXCITED FOR SOUP SEASON!!! 😂😋
drinking – Barefoot White Zinfandel (in moderation, lol) 🍷
watching – Peacemaker has been surprisingly entertaining lol. Same with Twisted Metal.
reading – Still working on One Italian Summer, but still enjoying it
playing – Wishing I had time to try Roblox, cuz my kids are obsessed (and I’m sure I would be too lol)
buying – Halloween decor that I definitely don’t need 😂 Pair Eyewear tops (I’m obsessed!!)
listening to – Chasing Rainbows by RHH & Dilemma by Green Day are still favorites
celebrating – apple cider season hehe
pinning – planners, self care, free spirit, & tattoos
planning – on not losing my mind lol
feeling – overwhelmed, & apathetic, but hopeful
Sometimes, the way we view our circumstances can either propel us forward or hold us back. It’s not about dismissing how we truly feel but about finding a perspective that’s more useful, more productive, and ultimately more empowering.
Life is rarely black and white. The same situation can feel overwhelming or manageable, depending on the lens through which we view it. For example, a setback at work might initially feel like a failure, but shifting your perspective can reveal it as an opportunity to learn, grow, or even pivot in a new direction.
The key is to acknowledge your emotions without letting them dictate your entire outlook. It’s okay to feel frustrated, disappointed, or even stuck. But once you’ve processed those feelings, ask yourself: Is there another way to look at this?
When my ex left after nearly 11 years, I was understandably devastated for a week or so – Then I realized that, while we were meant to be together for a time, we’d definitely pushed it beyond its “best by date”.
Perspective shapes our reality. When we’re stuck in a negative mindset, it’s easy to spiral into self-doubt or inaction. But when we consciously choose to reframe our thoughts, we open ourselves up to new possibilities.
For instance, instead of thinking, “I’ll never get this right,” try, “This is challenging, but I’m learning something valuable.” This subtle shift doesn’t erase the difficulty of the situation, but it does make it feel more manageable.
I’ve been learning about shifting perspectives in unexpected ways — sometimes through everyday moments with my step-daughter, and sometimes through heartbreak I’ll never fully understand. With both, I’m reminded that while I can’t control how the story ends, I can choose what lessons I carry forward.
Shifting your perspective doesn’t mean ignoring reality or pretending everything is fine. It’s about finding a balance between honesty and optimism. You can acknowledge the challenges while still looking for ways to move forward.
For example, if you’re feeling stuck in your career, you might say, “I’m not where I want to be, but I have the skills and determination to get there.” This approach validates your current experience while keeping the door open for progress.
Life is full of ups and downs, and how we choose to view those moments can make all the difference. By shifting your perspective, you’re not undermining your feelings—you’re giving yourself the tools to navigate them more effectively.
So the next time you’re faced with a challenge, take a moment to step back and ask yourself: Is there a more useful way to look at this? You might be surprised at how much of a difference it can make.
I don’t always get this right — sometimes rumination still spirals into negativity — but reminding myself to ask, ‘Is there another way to look at this?’ has pulled me out of so many mental ruts.
Thanks for reading! If this resonated with you, feel free to share it with someone who might need a little perspective shift today.
👉 What perspective shift has changed YOUR life? Drop it in the comments — your story might be exactly what someone else needs today.
Rock on!
zen BLITZ 