How Do You Stay Positive?


Sometimes attitude is all I have. Snow –like cold dark thoughts— clings more easily than sunshine. It can be difficult to keep ahead of the bad weather or the bad mind-set. Everyone has down times or bad days. Pain makes some of those difficult to shrug off.

Here’s what I do:

Engage in positive conversations. In real or virtual frames staying happy is an active endeavor. Find something– even the simplest topic– that you enjoy and talk to someone about it. It can be as easy as engaging a friend on Facebook about a picture or telling your child which cereal you like. Keep it simple and listen or read the responses. Look for what makes the other person smile and you might reflect that emotion.

Commit an act of random kindness. Help someone. Even the tiniest effort can go a long way in improving emotional state. It can be an open effort where you receive praise or –my personal favorites— the kind of thing that no one but you will know you did. Examples are easy—- A kind word on a blog goes a long way, a compliment to a stranger, picking up a piece of discarded trash, putting a few dollars in a charity jar,helping someone carry groceries or other items, or even a smile on Facebook or at the store. You’d be surprised how much a smile can help!

Engage in self-expression— drawing, writing, blogging— It doesn’t matter if you demonstrate pain, anger or joy, let the emotions flow. Like a good cry at a sad movie, you will feel better afterward.

Move. Sometimes exercise can help. In the face of extreme pain it can be difficult, but the endorphins released can often be worth the effort. There was a time that I lifted weights to deal with emotional upsets and it works! Generally now I’m the dead weight I lift, but the principle is the same.

These are ways that I cope. What do you do?

Sneak Peek/ Weekend Warriors 4/21/13 (fromSeer)

Xavier woke with a hangover and no memories of the previous night. He frowned against the brightness of the captain’s cabin. The three women stretched out naked— half covered by blankets on the bed— were still asleep. It seemed a good time to make his exit. Xavier had no idea of his innocence or guilt, but if there were consequences he wanted out. The cook-hand of the Dorianne wanted no part in trouble, and he had seen more than his share of ‘circumstances.’ Xavier slid soundlessly to the floor. His clothes lay in a heap by the foot of the bed. Stopping only long enough to don his pants, he slipped silently out the door.

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A Taste

Dragon pin

The creature had been running. The hot desert sands burned
through his coarse leather shoes. The suggestion of a city in the
distance seemed so real. Knowing he would not survive disappointment,
the beast slowed his pace, keeping his eyes fixed on
the heated sands. Time now separated him from disaster, but she
might follow. Tangled in paranoia, he found a second wind and
bolted forward… toward a dream… toward hope.
Magic looked down at his swollen feet as he sat on his bedside.
Dim light entered the dusty interior of his once-grand bedroom
from a gap in the heavy curtain. A small stream of bright sun
escaped the drapery and pierced the gloom. It was just another
day, just another chance. Yet today might be special. Today might
be Magic’s last chance. At least he could dream. Magic had always
believed in the power of dreams.
The young man could not remember how long it had been
since he last considered his appearance. Staggering to rise, he
studied his reflection in the dust-covered antique mirror. The man
who stared back had become thin. His beautiful blond hair had
become long, tangled, thin, and neglected, matted from months
of agitated sleep. There were gray circles under dark-blue eyes,
and his face wore the stubble of a light beard. A grimace crossed
Magic’s lips at the thought of how he had changed. In days gone
by, he had been called pretty enough to be a girl. The man who
grimaced in his reflection appeared to suffer from some internal
stress. What demons danced in this mirror man’s nightmares,
Magic denied knowing.
Turning away, almost sickened by his own reflection, he chased
negative thoughts from his mind. It was a new day. He rose,
passed the large oaken desk, and headed to the shower. Maybe
the water would clear his mind. Perhaps he could wash away the
changes that had taken deep root in his life.
The computer in the darkened corner of his room made a slight
sound, indicating a demand for his attention. For the moment, it
could wait. For the moment, he would allow the torrent of warm
water to pour over him and let him forget everything.
Life had a way of letting the mind drift only so long. The
phone was ringing, the computer signaling, the doorbell chiming,
all as he exited his shower and hurriedly dressed. He knew the
day was not going to be pleasant. Magic stumbled, numbly steeling
himself with the endurance he must find within to survive.
He must live now—one minute at a time.
Finally dressed, he swung open the door, ignoring both phone
and computer. There on the steps was Oliver Scheen, known to
him as simply Scheen, smiling in warm greeting.
“Come on in, I’m almost ready,” Magic called over his shoulder
as he turned away to locate his special shoes.
Scheen entered,his smile fading as he watched Magic stumble. Knowing how his
friend struggled with illness and medication was the most difficult
thing Scheen had ever faced. He had seen his own troubles,
was no stranger to them, but this was Magic. This was different.
He was taking Magic to the hospital again today.
Scheen scooped up the shoes in one large hand, turned to
scooped up Magic in his free arm, then carried them both to the
chair. The large man knelt and put Magic’s shoes on him, grinning
up into his face.
“Just thought I’d hurry things along a bit.”
“I know you just can’t wait to get back to the game.” Magic
smiled the words. “I know how you feel about it, but…let’s do
this. We can go back to Salandra as soon as it’s over.”
Yes, Scheen thought, keeping his desires silent. He could
not stifle his urgent need to return to a world where Magic was
whole, to return to the game, to see his friend well. He lived for
it. Scheen put out his muscular arm to steady Magic as they left
the security of his home, climbed into Scheen’s blue luxury sedan,
and threaded the path toward the treatment center. They would
soon be hurrying back toward more pleasant things, toward the
game, toward their roles in the world of Salandra.

This is my recent release:

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This photo of my PDF proof says where I live. I am a writer, but the advertizing aspects are new to me. Most people believe that you get a traditional publisher and presto- you’re a success.
Life being full of wonderous mysteries– that’s not quite how it works. So, for me, here comes the hard part. My tate author page:

I get by with a little help from my friends…
I’d like to thank everyone who tolerates me, my problems and my self-absorbed proclivity for writing. Special thanks go out to my family and Bettina Rowe for patience and guiding wisdom. I’d also like to thank my friends in BBT café for their help and kind consideration once this manuscript was complete.
Dreamer wasn’t written alone, although at times—locked in my tiny space— I felt isolated. The book is an effort of love, a demonstration of strong relationships. To all of you, my heart felt thanks.

Dreamer is on Amazon –