Author: Tori Lennox

Just your average writer chick enjoying her literary fantasies.
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I’m dancing on a shaky limb…

Tori LennoxLeave a comment

But I’m fed up with this world around me. Not only that; I’m tired of political correctness. I’m tired of the lies and cruelties perpetrated in the name of not being offensive to anyone. I’m tired of people blindly following causes that look good on social media without investigating the true motivations of the people behind the cause. Today, so much that masquerades as good is unadulterated evil. Not just in my country; but, all over the world. There is a spirit of oppression and fear everywhere. While that’s sad, it’s even sadder that people like me who see what’s really going on aren’t lifting our voices to speak against the insanity around us. We don’t want to rock the boat.

Well, the boat needs rocking.

First, let me say, I’m all for very real social injustices being righted. There’s a lot of that all over the world. However, these injustices have to be righted in an orderly fashion. Not through organized bedlam orchestrated by avowed Marxists. As history has proven time and again, anarchy never ends well. Living in a world void of God and absolute right and wrong never ends well either. I’ve lived long enough to know that.

If you don’t believe me, read a truthful, historically accurate account of the French Revolution. Not a revisionist account that paints a ten year nightmare as a glorious revolution. Choose an account that tells the full story of both the event and the aftermath, warts and all including the nearly year long Reign of Terror. The whole uprising was a blood bath that didn’t just slaughter the Royal family, the aristocracy, and Catholic priests. Many innocents and moderates were guillotined for being voices of reason in an uprising gone mad. Even the leaders couldn’t agree on the path to take. Yes, I’ve oversimplified things greatly; but, this isn’t a history lesson. Revolutions that overthrow governments are complex subjects with more layers than I can address in a blog. Also, I didn’t pick the French Revolution for any reason other than some aspects of the mob mentality so prevalent then is being echoed today in my own country of America.

Moving on, it seems to me that we’re edging ever closer to a very dangerous precipice with worldwide movements that seek to remove statues and anything deemed personally offensive to whomever for whatever reason. That whole mindset is foolish to me because I’ve lived enough to know when you eradicate every memory of what should never have happened, you’re doomed to repeat those same sins again. Sorry kids, if you think slavery only happened in America, you need to study history. It’s been around since the beginning of time in every culture.

It’s still going on today all over the world to the tune of over 40 million people worldwide. It might shock you to discover where most of that slavery is. Again, do your research from reliable sources that have nothing to gain beyond letting the world know people of every race and color are still being trafficked into slavery of every kind including sexual. These people are suffering everywhere and little is being done about it. We’re too busy using anarchy for political and personal gain.

In closing, here’s the point of my whole post. We live in a world where people want no God, no sense of right and wrong, no rules, and no absolutes. People who hold such beliefs tell me I can’t hold my Christian opinions because my values and my absolutes offend them. Those same people would spit on me because I don’t agree with how they live their lives. Don’t deny it, I’ve seen it happen. But, the truth is, I don’t have to agree with how you live your life.

Your values are between you and God.

However, I do have to respect your humanity. To treat you with respect in spite of any difference of opinion. However, that respect doesn’t mean you get to disrespect or try to silence me. More important to me as a Christian, not just a “religious” person, is if I see you’re in need and I don’t help you because of the color of your skin or your sexual orientation or any other real discrimination, I’m in blatant disobedience to Jesus’s command to love everyone. That isn’t acceptable behavior.

However, joyfully helping out of love doesn’t mean I have a politically correct toleration of things that are blatantly wrong. What I “tolerate” I tolerate in the sense of the word as defined by the Oxford Dictionary: to allow the existence, occurrence, or practice of (something that one does not necessarily like or agree with) without interference. I wish I was allowed the same courtesy.

Moving on, from my perspective, it’s time to do some deep soul searching and see where we’ve gone wrong as human beings. It’s time to reevaluate what really matters. It’s time to stop being pawns to people who use political office to enrich themselves. It’s time to stop being victimized by the Radical Leftists, Marxists, Socialist, and Communists trying to take over the US and destroy a freedom loving way of life. It’s time to get rid of our Senators and Representatives of both parties who care more about self-enrichment and/or political power than they do about their constituents and this country. I don’t want anything these people have to offer. Bluntly, I don’t want my government taking most of my income to pay for universal healthcare, free college, free vacation, and the like for “everyone”.

Again, I’m not saying we don’t help people in need or that we shouldn’t help them. We do and we should. Just in a sane manner. I’m reasonably sure, middle class American’s won’t continue to work when the government takes fifty percent or more of their income to pay for universal college, healthcare, and so on. I can also tell you by the time that happens the upper class and the truly wealthy will be long gone. They will have moved themselves and their wealth to some country that’s more asset friendly than we are.

You need to understand something else, a hundred million dollar donation to some charity is nothing to a person worth ten billion dollars. It’s like me thinking a $50 dollar gift to some charity is generous when I just received a check for ten thousand dollars. While the wealthy are willing to give what they want when they want and how they want even if it’s most of their declared income, I’m reasonably sure most of these people aren’t willing to transfer 75% of their worth to the federal government to take care of the indigent, pay for universal college, pay for universal healthcare, pay for two weeks of paid vacation for everyone and so on. If they are, they’re either unnaturally generous or there’s something we don’t know. The bottom line is someone has to pay for every government sponsored program and that “someone” is the taxpayer. That someone is me and you. Nothing is ever free. Just food for thought.

Until next time,

Calla

Been There, Done That Part 2 · observations · writing

Whatever the “New Normal” is…

Tori LennoxLeave a comment

My life hasn’t changed that much. I doubt it will. For the past few weeks, I’ve gone to work, come home, and worn a mask when I needed to. Not all that different from the way it’s always been (mask excluded). Not from my perspective. Maybe that’s because I’ve never been “normal.” I’ve spent most of my life on the outside looking in. Feeling more “different” than I probably was. I’m sure a lot of us feel that way at some point in our lives.

However, if you spent any time around me, you’d quickly realize I wasn’t your typical teen-aged anything. For one thing, in spite of my avid pursuit of fashionable clothes, makeup, and hair, I had less innocuous interests as well. All you had to do was skim my reading material to see that.

Tucked among the stacks of dog-eared second-hand Harlequins, historical romances, and fantasy novels, were various archaeology, science, and psychology magazines. Tucked among those were the requisite Cosmo and Glamour just to keep me girlie. Smacked untidily on top of all that you’d find the latest Han Holzer book recounting his most recent paranormal investigations. While I straddled the fence between belief and disbelief, I tilted more in the direction of wanting to believe in things that go bump in the night. You know, ghosts, poltergeists, vampires, werewolves, and aliens. I was young and I enjoyed poking around in crazy places.

However, in spite of my tendencies, I’ve never taken other people’s opinions or facts as my own. I’ve always done my research. So, in spite of what I wanted to believe, I’m not a true believer. I wasn’t then and I’m not now. There are more “things” on earth and in the Heavenlies than we’ll ever understand in spite of our on-going efforts. That includes all the people shouting their beliefs to anyone who will listen without offering reliable proof that isn’t twisted to suit their purposes. I occasionally watch those shows, too, and I have for close to thirty years. I’m not trying to step on anyone’s toes here. I’ve devoted my life to studying ancient and medieval history across multiple cultures and disciplines. I stay pretty up-to-date on the latest discoveries in a lot of different fields that have nothing to do with archaeology. I’m a curious person.

It ‘s never enough to make a statement to the effect of “Is so-and-so true?” then conclude with, “So-and-so say, yes.” as if it’s definitive proof about ANYTHING in life. Just because someone says whatever doesn’t make it true and, yes, I still believe in absolute truths that aren’t fluid. Call it my age, my personality, or my life experience. I call it my need to be fixed in a reality that doesn’t change with the wind and trending opinions. I’m still a “truth-seeker” in a world where absolutes aren’t popular. That doesn’t mean my opinions don’t alter or change as I uncover new information. They can and they do. That’s how we grow and mature as human beings. It’s a valid part of the human experience.

In this age of technology and impatience, we don’t necessarily want that experience. We’re much too easily swayed by what we “google,” see on the news, or read on social media. We don’t take the time to do the in depth research necessary to make informed decisions for ourselves. We rely on others to do that for us.

The problem with that is we’re all biased in some way or the other. Some of us operate in the open; others operate from hidden agendas. That’s just a fact of life. That’s why it’s so important we think for ourselves from an informed position. We can’t blindly follow the herd or get trapped in our fears. I’ve always thought for myself; but, for years, my actions and reactions were influenced by deeply buried traumas and fears. I suspect a lot of us are flopping around in that boat on stormy seas without even realizing it. I never did.

Getting back to my original topic, you’d find my stash of mythology and astrology books under my bed and on my desk. As far as I was concerned, there was a kernel of truth in those myths and I was a “truth-seeker.” I’d go where the research took me. As for the Astrology books, they were empowerment. If you’ve read some of my past posts, you already know I believed if I knew what might happen, I could stop/control what did happen. That mindset is a devious deception that will lead you into making the very decision propelling you into the situation you’re trying to prevent. Again, that attitude is fear based and fear makes you stupid. I know what I’m talking about. I lived with that mindset for many years.

From my present perspective, the best defense against bad things happening is to remain calm, learn from your mistakes, and make wise decisions based on solid research and careful considerations. If you’re a believer, that involves prayer and seeking God’s counsel. If you’re not, it’s a little trickier. My advice is to seek the wisdom of someone you respect and trust who makes the kind of decisions that keeps their life on a positive track. Another thing I’ve learned from experience is, if there’s a voice in your head shouting not to do something, don’t do it. Bluntly, a “what the hell” moment isn’t worth the literal Hell that decision usually leads to. Again, I’ve been there and done that way too many times. Sometimes seemingly bright people can be stubbornly stupid. I’m a case in point.

So, on with the post, and my “magic” bookshelves loaded with everything from raunchy historical romances to books on ancient cultures, UFO’s, and the nineteenth century Spiritualist movement. I was into everything from psychology to black holes. If something had a paranormal or a supernatural bent, I was interested in knowing more. I still am, just from a different perspective. So much of my life was permeated by the Supernatural. It still is. Again, from a different perspective.

However, at that time my seemingly “innocent” pursuit of knowledge and my need to control my life led me deeper into darkness. I learned to cast Astrology charts and read Tarot Cards. I consulted Psychics trying to find stability in my unstable world. As crazy as it sounds now, while I knew I was trafficing in areas I shouldn’t, I didn’t think I was doing anything “wrong.” Maybe not for some people; but, definitely wrong for me and I felt it deep inside. But, I was selectively blind. I was someone who would never touch a oujia board or read ancient spells from a cuneiform text in a history book because I didn’t want those negative words in my head; but, I’d consult a “Christian” medium who spoke words from some “spirit” that scared the heck out of me? What’s screwy about this picture? For the record, I never went back to that woman.

I’m going to wrap this up by saying I was a very lost, confused woman for a lot of years. That’s really what my next book is about. How confusion, low self-esteem, and fear led me down occultic paths that influenced my real-life decisions in destructive ways that reinforced my sense of worthlessness. Even when I walked away from those influences, it took me years to get free of the residual effects. I see that now.

That’s what’s so wonderful about these posts. They take me places I never meant to go. Reveal realities I’d yet to see. Yes, I ramble, and I apologize if that drives you crazy; but, I don’t write from an outline with a succinct message. I write from my heart and soul in the hope I can help myself, as well as you, make sense of an often senseless world.

I’m sure I’ll revisit this topic again; so, until then,

Calla

Been There, Done That · emotional healing · observations · writing

Just Another Strange Moment in my Strange Little World….

Tori LennoxLeave a comment

When I decided to write my blog, I promised myself I wouldn’t write from negativity. That isn’t to say there aren’t “ugly” moments in my posts. There are. That’s part of the second promise I made myself. The one where I agreed to be brutally honest about my life, my journey, and my struggles to be a happier, healthier me. While I occasionally post silly pictures of my dogs, I strive to write more meaningful pieces. Ones I hope will get “liked” not for the ego stroke: but, because that’s how I know I’ve struck a chord with someone and, hopefully, impacted their life for the better. At the least, I’ve made someone think, and that’s important, too.

Before I go any further, since this post will be hitting new social media outlets I’ve never used before, I should inform any new readers I’m a Charismatic Christian at this point in my life. While I try to write from a more general viewpoint, I don’t hide my personal feelings. I’ll also say I haven’t always been a practicing Christian or a Charismatic. I was raised Southern Baptist although I was rarely in church. I’ve lived most of my life as a non-practicing believer. I should also say I’m not trying to convert anyone. You choose your belief system just as I chose mine. What I’m trying to do is make my readers think, abandon destructive habits, live a more content life, and not make the same mistakes I’ve made. One of us living through forty years of emotional Lo-debar is enough.

I’m writing this piece to that end and I’ll admit it’s a little on the odd side. I decided to put my thoughts to “paper” a couple of days ago while I was out walking and praying. I felt God was telling me to write out what I was feeling and thinking in that moment. To confront the last of some ugliness I laid to rest a long time ago. There’s something about putting your thoughts to paper that’s liberating. Words have power on so many levels. So, I’m taking His suggestion and doing that. Putting words to paper.

Just as I did with Been There, Done That…Had the Smashed Up Face to Prove It, I’m writing openly and honestly with no apologies. As I type this, all I can say is welcome to Calla’s strange little world. Strange in the sense that I’m writing a letter to a person who will never see it. Or, more accurately, I don’t think he will. Honestly, I don’t care if he does. This isn’t about him.

It’s about me and the person I left behind when I finally accepted my worth was never defined by the mental, physical, and sexual abuses I’ve endured over the years. It’s about hindsight revelations and emotional freedom. About writing from honesty, vulnerability, and strength. Changing your self-perception involves embracing all three. I know that from experience.

I wasted forty years of my life believing the lies spoken over me. Don’t get me wrong, I never had a victim mentality through it all. I was always a survivor; but, I was handicapped. The secret to my survival wasn’t the healthy mindset that I wasn’t responsible for other people’s actions – They were. – I honestly never saw that. The only reason I made it through the darkness was because some ornery part of me refused to die, commit suicide, or be destroyed even when I wanted the nightmare to end.

With hindsight, I was incredibly stupid and I could have ended my ordeal years before I did. I admit that now. Over the years I was fantastic at dishing out common sense advice that helped a lot of people. It would have helped me, too. If I’d been willing to take it. I wasn’t. By the time I had any wisdom, I’d already accepted I was nothing.

You see, I believed the father who told me I would never be what my Mother was. Right. Never believe the man who abused you. I believed the teachers who told me what I couldn’t do or be. They were wrong; but, I didn’t know it. When everything was said and done, I believed I didn’t matter. Other people did. That’s how I lived my life. For other people. That’s one of the worst mistakes you can make. Yes, take care of people. Give them the love and respect they deserve. But, expect the same love and respect in return.

That’s something I never did…especially when it came to the so called “love of my life.” While I called him that in my mind for many years, I don’t any longer. For one thing, I’m not sure such a person really exists for a lot of us. Sometimes, it’s more of a romanticized idea encompassing the one that got away. While I do believe a lot of people are blessed with healthy, happy long-term romantic relationships, it’s not a given.

It wasn’t for me. Hence, I’m confronting the truth, and laying the fantasy to rest through the following letter:

Dear Ghost From My Past:

You weren’t evil. Not truly. You were just as emotionally damaged as me in ways that weren’t apparent. Not in the beginning. By the time that truth manifested, I was in too deep. While I wish I’d been stronger, I wasn’t. I was flattered a vibrant, successful man like you would pursue a nobody like me instead. I didn’t know what you saw in me back then. I still don’t…not fully anyway.

What I do know is beneath that handsome, successful demeanor was a man with inferiority issues of his own. You wouldn’t expect the women in your life to “prove” their love if you weren’t. While I see that now, I didn’t then. I saw it as an emotional vulnerability resulting from a failed marriage and the loss of daily contact with the children you loved. As I pieced your story together over time, I realized the truth of the matter.

I also realized, we were doomed from the start. We were far too different to last. You wanted someone to love you. I needed someone to love. You were never faithful. I was. I thought you were my savior. You betrayed me instead. Being with me helped you navigate difficulties in your life. Being with you turned me into someone I didn’t know. That wasn’t your fault.

Since I chose to stay, it was mine.

That being said, I’m happy to say I see you through very different eyes today than I did then. With the passage of time and healing, I no longer see a knight in dented armor. I see a weak man worthy of pity. I see a man who found it easier to sneak, lie, and cheat than deal with his intimate relationships honorably. To end one dating relationship before beginning another. I see the man who taught me to never say never as in, “I’d never do that.” and the one who taught me to like myself even less than I already did. It’s not your fault I chose to stay when I found out I was “the other woman” when I thought I was the only one. It doesn’t matter you weren’t married, only dating. It was still dishonorable and destructive to everyone involved.

In the end, I see the relationship I wanted to work that I’m glad didn’t.

I also see the relationship I romanticized until I finally didn’t.

So, in closing, Ghost From My Past, you’re nothing more than the memory of a lesson well learned. I’ve laid the sorrow, guilt, and wistfulness to rest in the wake of seeing truths I should have seen long ago. Mainly, we were bad for each other.

Here’s wishing you all the best,

Living in the Present

If you’ve made it this far, all I can say is I hope you found something valuable in what I’ve said. Something along the lines of, “If your significant other asks you to do things that compromises your values, makes you uncomfortable, or causes you emotional pain walk away.” It’s not a relationship worth pursuing. It doesn’t matter if you’re a man or a woman. Healthy relationships are never built on lies, cheating, or demeaning words or actions. I’ve been there, done that, and reaped years of emotional repercussions.

Until next time,

Calla

writing

Writing – Today and Yesterday….

Tori LennoxLeave a comment

As I’ve already said, I enjoy walking in the warm sunshine preferably by a wooded pond where I can enjoy the wildlife hanging out there. Most of the time, that means squirrels and lizards as far as the eye can see. Sometimes I’ll see an Egret or a Heron. Most days I’ll see Cormorants and Muscovy Ducks. The other day I startled a mama Wood Duck with her tiny ball of fluff duckling. Needless to say, they moved like greased lightening getting away from me. In fact, I saw more of their tail feathers than anything other part. I haven’t laughed so hard in a long time.

When I’m not enjoying the critters on those walks, I’m usually thinking about writing. What I’ve written in the past, what I’m working on now, and what I hope to write in the future. It’s such an integral part of me that I can leave the creative process for months, even years, when real life takes me away; but, I always come back. Sometimes I’m amazed at how much my writing and storytelling styles have changed over the years. Part of that has to do with how writing styles have changed over they years in general and part of it has to do with how much I’ve changed over the years. What hasn’t changed is the reality I have to write. Go through the creative process. I’m miserable if I don’t.

As I’ve already said, I recently rescued a cache of novels I thought were lost forever. That was the high point of the pandemic lock down for me. The other high points were spending most of my time with my Mom and those long walks in the sun. That phase is ending since I return to work tomorrow. While I’ll miss being home with my family as crazy as that sounds, the change is better for my writing. I tend to procrastinate and/or have writer’s block when I have too much time on my hands or too many interruptions. When I know I have this sliver of time and not a second more, I get the job done. I’ve had crazy writing times in the past where I’ve written 20,000 words in a handful of hours. The words were flowing faster than I could type and I type pretty fast when I have to.

Those hyper-productive moments are rare. Usually, I set a modest goal and a time limit if I’m working on a new novel. My go-to goal is 2000 words if I only have an hour or two to devote to my story. If I make it, great. If I don’t, I’ll do better next time. Crafting a believable story with engaging characters matters more to me than making some imaginary goal I set for myself. The take-away is writing should be fun, not frustrating, and sometimes the characters just aren’t talking. That’s when I usually find myself working on a couple of novels. If one isn’t talking, the other usually will.

The only time I found myself not able to write due to the stresses of real life, I wasn’t sure I’d ever write again. I hadn’t hit a lick at a snake where writing was concerned in over eight years. I wasn’t sure I ever would. However, I couldn’t imagine not being able to do what I loved best. The possibility was emotionally devastating. I had to do something to get back in the groove. To reawaken that fire.

About the time all hope was lost, my newest obsession came along. I fell in love with The Mentalist television show and discovered TM fanfic on fanfiction.net. I’d read fanfiction before so I knew it existed. I just hadn’t bothered reading anything in a very long time. Once I rediscovered that guilty pleasure, it wasn’t long before reading other people’s stories sparked me to write fanfic of my own.

I spent several years writing Mentalist stories on ff.net under the pen name Calladragon. Some of it was good. Some of it was nuts. All of it was fun to write. I won’t claim it was my best work. It wasn’t. My stories were raw. There were typos in spite of my best efforts at editing. I tended to see what was in my head over what was actually there.

Added to that, I honestly wasn’t interested in presenting polished work. I was interested in just getting something finished and up in the small amount of time I had to write. My ability to craft anything was just coming back and I didn’t want to lose it. While I haven’t written fanfiction in several years, it still thrills me to get the occasional Favorite/Follow or review in my email. As imperfect as they are, those stories are still my babies. I poured a lot of heart, sweat, and tears into every one.

While I wouldn’t post most of those stories in the state I wrote them today, I did what I needed to do back then. Today, I’d do like I do with my novels. I’d edit and edit and edit for weeks until I was satisfied I had done all that was humanly possible to catch the errors. Six or seven years ago, that wasn’t possible. I still have unfinished stories on that site I hope to finish eventually. One day I might return to that guilty pleasure. Right now, I won’t. I’m rewriting one old contemporary romance, completing a second contemporary romance, and outlining Been There, Done That Too so my plate is full. My heart is full. I’m doing what I love best…enough said.

This feels like a good place to stop so I will. I suspect my future posts will be about writing. As I’ve said several times, I tend to hop all over the place depending on what’s captured my interest at the moment. Until next time,

Calla

General · observations

Just thinking…Sometimes that’s a dangerous thing.

Tori LennoxLeave a comment

As I sit here waiting for the day I return to work, my thoughts are wandering all over the place. The U.S. is slowly opening back up and none of us really know what’s going to happen. We have all these people giving us “educated guesses” and theories. Since I’m not living in fear, I don’t really care about what could happen. I care about keeping myself and the people I’m around as safe as possible so I’m going to stick with the masks and the gloves for a while. There’s something to be said for respecting a killer you can’t see.

In spite of my actions, I’m only so safe and I know it. The truth is I’m greatly impacted by how the people around me choose to live their lives. I live in a smaller town in Florida, and from what I see, most of the general public have abandoned even minimal precautions in favor of going back to the normal they’ve always known. No masks, no real distancing, and no caution. It’s the same old same old and it’s troubling to me. I’m not talking about the stores and businesses. They’re doing their best to be safe. I’m talking about their patrons. Don’t get me wrong, I’m as ready as the next person to put all of this behind me. To be “wild and free.” Right, I’m ready to come and go as I please, say “Hi!” to a stranger, hug my elderly Mom, and shop without gloves. Simple things; but, oh, so important in my day-to-day life.

Honestly, I’ve done better through this whole lockdown experience than I thought I would. For one thing, I’ve picked my battles and only fought the ones I could win. I can’t win against the coronavirus and I’m not going to try. I’m going to do what I need to do and thank God I’m healthy. For another, I’ve walked three or four miles in the sunshine almost every day in areas where I have minimal to no contact with other people. Just being able to appreciate the trees and animals goes a long way towards restoring my peace of mind. It’s my prayer time and it works. It’s also my thinking time.

What’s important about my thinking time is things come to me I haven’t thought about in years. I’m a small town girl in my mid-fifties who’s lived through a lot of “stuff.” Part of that stuff was the beginning of the HIV/AIDS epidemic. Here we are thirty plus years into living with HIV in all it’s various incarnations and it’s just an unpleasant reality. We think we know all there is to know about the disease including how to manage and prevent it. Life goes on and everybody has sex with whomever they please, however they please. People still get sick; but, for the most part we treat it. Yes, I know that’s and over-simplification. But, I don’t think most of us spend a significant part of our lives thinking about AIDS anymore like we did in the past. One day, given time, Coronavirus will be the same.

However, back in the day (the early to mid 1980’s) when I was a teen-aged college student attending a small town University in rural South Carolina, things were different. We were just learning about a wicked, incurable disease that was breaking on the scene with a vengeance. By the time we were reading the magazine/newspaper articles introducing the horrors of the disease in terms of mass destruction, HIV was already known in Africa and big cities like New York and London. Where I lived, we were years behind the times.

I remember being horrified by what I read. Yes, I knew there were incurable diseases out there like cancer and I knew people died from everyday diseases like the flu. But, sexually transmitted diseases were embarrassing situations that didn’t cause serious problems unless they weren’t treated. Most people didn’t die from them. Let me say at the time I’m talking about I lived at home with over protective parents so I wasn’t in any danger of contracting this new, 100% fatal disease and, supposedly, none of my friends and acquaintances were either. Right.

At the time I learned about HIV it was called AIDS and it was only found among drug users, in the homosexual community, or in Africa. I’m not being a homophobe or discriminating against anyone. I’m telling you what was believed in the early days. We didn’t know you could get it by blood transfusion or that babies could be infected through the birth canal. A lot of vile things were said and done in the name of ignorance and mean-spiritedness. Even where I lived. Years later, we figured out our theories and suppositions weren’t right. Unfortunately, before we did, there were people out there knowingly and unknowingly committing murder by disease because they’d become infected through heterosexual sex which wasn’t considered risky behavior in the early days. There still are.

Sounds a little like Coronavirus doesn’t it? We don’t really know anything about the disease. Not like we will in a few months and years. However, we’re still being told things like you probably won’t get it if you’re young and healthy. While that may be true for the most part, it isn’t true for everyone. If you don’t believe that, just watch the Social Media posts by the Spring Breakers who partied on our Florida beaches a few weeks ago. Several of those youngsters ended up on the Internet warning anyone who would listen that that wasn’t necessarily true and they were now suffering with disease.

All I can say at this point is we have to resume our lives and we have to get back to work. We just need to do it with wisdom and consideration for the people around us. Here in America, a lot of us tend to think more in terms of what I want and less in terms of how my actions might impact others. That’s not necessarily evil. It’s human nature. Self-preservation is built into us and thank God it is. Most of us wouldn’t survive to adulthood if it wasn’t.

However, as we go forward, my hope and prayer is that we navigate this chaotic new world unfolding with generous dispositions, cautious joy, and a degree of wisdom we might not normally employ. Stay safe, enjoy your life, and know we will get through this. This isn’t the first pandemic the world has weathered and it won’t be the last. There truly is nothing new under the sun…Just experiences that are new to us.

Until next time.

Calla

Been There, Done That · Been There, Done That Part 2 · Life in general · writing

Taking The Next Step

Tori LennoxLeave a comment

As you already know, I’m living under the same stay-at-home-order so many of us are trying to handle. How you choose to deal with this unfamiliar, unpleasant “brave new world” is up to you. Personally, I’m trying to stay safe, keep others safe, pick battles I can win, and be at peace with the insanity I can’t change. Sometimes that’s hard; but, I can’t be content if I don’t try. So, I try, and when I fail, I try again.

I don’t have a choice. No. There’s always a choice. I don’t give myself a choice. There are so many unknowns right now. So many scenarios we need to handle carefully with a degree of wisdom and prudence not everyone possesses. Myself included. We’re living through something none of us have experienced in our lives and it’s hard. Crippling if we let it. This whole situation is like that recurring nightmare you can’t quite escape. The one you have night after night until you either deal with it or decide you don’t want to sleep any more. The big difference is we will escape this one eventually. It will end. We might have to modify our lives for a while; but, we can do it. We’ve done it before. Throughout the life of this country.

If you don’t know I’m speaking truth, look up the real history of this country. Not the Revisionist history that’s taught today if it’s taught at all. Yes, we’ve done bad things in the past. Every culture has. But, that doesn’t negate the fact this country was settled by strong people who fought through bad situations. I’m speaking of both the Native Americans and the European settlers. Both had to roll with a lot of tough situations they couldn’t control. Yet, they persevered.

We can do the same today. If we’re willing to do what it takes. Whether we accomplish that goal or not is up to us as individuals. For me, that’s where prayer comes in. I pray our leaders, all of them, act with wisdom. I pray we the people act with wisdom and consideration for others. That isn’t the easiest thing to do. Where I am, I see a lot of people acting foolishly. When I do go out, I stay as far from everyone as possible. I wear my mask and my gloves. Not just to protect myself and my Mom. To protect the people who don’t protect themselves. The flip side of that coin is when I go walking in my neighborhood I pass a few people here and there along the way. We always wave or smile silently acknowledging each other in passing as we maintain social distancing. I respect those people for being responsible as we all should be.

As I write this blog, I realize I sound like a person I’m really not. I’m not a cheerleader. I can be when I need to be; but, that persona is foreign to my more introverted, scholarly demeanor. However, I’ll admit I’m writing this post as much for myself as for my readers. I could struggle with depression if I allowed it. I won’t. If you’ve read Been There, Done That…you know I spent most of my life in self-loathing and depression. I refuse to go two steps forward and ten steps back. I refuse to be that person again. When I find myself slipping, I cry out to God and give myself a swift mental kick in the rear. I remind myself I’m not “her” anymore and I have positive things to do.

Like writing the next book in the Been There Series. It started downloading yesterday the way it should be. I’m just starting; but, the flow is natural which is everything. If I can’t write in an open, honest way that touches the heart, I shouldn’t write. It doesn’t matter whether I’m writing a novel or my life story. Again, this book will be part two of my life story. It’s dealing with my dabbling in the Occult. I’m not really interested in writing about how wrong that is from a religious standpoint. I’m more interested in exploring how what I was doing and believing preyed on my weaknesses and fed my self-loathing. How I thought I was controlling my life when I was, in reality, being controlled. That’s all I can really say at this point since I’m just starting the book.

Anyways, I’ve said enough for now. Somewhere back around my first blog, I admitted I would go all over the place in my posts and I think this one shows I have. In reality, unless I’m focusing on writing a book, my thoughts are all over the place. I’m fifty-five; but, there’s a part of me that will always be that little child chasing butterflies that light here and there only to move on to the next flower in the blink of an eye. I tend to flit from subject to subject absorbing as much as I can before I move on. I’ve finally accepted that’s who I am just as I’ve finally accepted I’m a legitimate author even if I haven’t been published by a major publishing house. Not yet. But, I believe that’s coming.

Until next time,

Calla

Life in general · writing

Best Laid Plans…

Tori LennoxLeave a comment

It seems like the universe is continually conspiring against me getting this blog going the way I’ve promised. It isn’t. It’s just life with it’s ups and downs. Since I last updated, my Mom had a mild stroke in the middle of March and made a miraculous recovery. However, she couldn’t stay alone once she was released from the hospital. That meant I had to come home temporarily. My job wouldn’t give me paid family leave since my Mom is actually my ex-mother-in-law I’ve lived with for the past thirteen years. I understood; so, I elected to use my vacation instead of taking an unpaid leave. Not ideal; but, workable. Again, things were stacking up; but, they didn’t seem insurmountable. Not yet.

In the midst of this mess, the world got Covid-19. Like most of us, that led to a whole new can of worms for me. Things like my hours got cut at work before I took my leave, my paid vacation suddenly became unpaid furlough when our hours were cut even more, and finally my employer closed temporarily due to a stay at home order for all non-essentials. Like millions of other Americans, I suddenly found myself with no income struggling to get through to unemployment for weeks with little success.

Anyways, if the world’s current craziness wasn’t enough, my Mom had a sudden, serious Potassium crash on Sunday. She ended up back in the hospital until they got her stabilized enough to come home. I brought her home late Tuesday afternoon. She’s slowly recovering her strength and doing well. However, I’m having to do far more for her temporarily than I did before this happened. So, once again, my time isn’t my own.

In the midst of all of this, I did try to write three blogs. I failed miserably. I just didn’t have anything positive or edifying to say. I do now. As much as it sounds like I’m complaining, I’m not. I just want you to know I’m writing from the same kind of challenges so many of us are suffering at the moment. As overwhelming as the last five weeks have been, a lot of good has come out of it.

First off, all things considered, my Mom is doing wonderfully. I finally got the overflowing “junk” room otherwise known as our den/living room restored to it’s former pre-renovation glory. I cleared the garage of unnecessary “garbage” and neatened it up. I replaced the box springs on my bed Hurricane Allie destroyed as a puppy. While my bedroom isn’t fully set up, it’s getting there. So, like the people in my neighborhood working on their yards, I’m slowly getting things accomplished. Just inside instead of out. I’m also taking care of my Mom until she can take care of herself again.

Added to all that, I finally got around to editing and reposting a contemporary romance I’d posted on Amazon a couple of years ago and pulled down. It needed a serious overhaul for a lot of reasons. I also found my cd’s with all the novels I’ve started/completed over the years when I was packing up my old bedroom. The significance of this is I lost all of that work when my computer crashed unexpectedly six years ago. I thought I’d lost twenty years of work forever. While I kept the hard drive, I haven’t had the extra money laying around to pay someone to see if it was possible to retrieve any of my work.

I still thought all was lost even after I found the cds. In a dumb moment I started to toss them since my last two computers didn’t have built-in cd readers anymore. Thankfully, I didn’t. I bought an external cd reader instead. Honestly, I’d forgotten they even made those things until I started to throw those cds away for the second time. Fortunately I remembered reading about external readers when they were just coming out. I don’t think I put two and two together because I’d forgotten I’d made those backup cd’s years ago before Cloud and the like existed.

Thanks to resisting two “stupid moments” I now have a completed historical romance to edit plus three other novels in the series to complete. I also have a completed romantic suspense I’m going to edit and submit to a major publishing house. That one was a third place finalist in a Romance Writers of America contest a few years ago so it’s worth submitting after a good edit. I also have several other historical novels in various states of completion on those discs – seven or eight novels total. I’m still pinching myself to make sure this really happened. It did.

I guess the whole point and purpose of this blog is to say hold on and don’t give up hope. Good things are happening in the midst of all the trauma and drama. Grab a hold of those little things that give you joy. Appreciate your family and your pets. Appreciate having too much time for a change. Know this will end and things will get better in time. Find the little positives and cling to them when all of this seems too much. If you’re a person of faith, don’t lose it. God knows what we’re going through. While my journey through years of a personal hell brought me back to the Christianity of my youth, everyone’s journey is their own. I respect that.

The point of this blog is to say stay strong, cling to the little things, don’t lose hope, keep fighting, and we’ll persevere in the end.

Calla

Been There, Done That · emotional healing

Striking Insights

Tori LennoxLeave a comment

My perception of my universe has greatly changed since writing Been There, Done That. I’ve always seen the hurting people around me and I’ve always tried to help where I can. That hasn’t changed. How I help has. Once upon a time I solved other people’s problems for them. I was quit gifted at that. I couldn’t help myself; but, I could help you and you’d love me for it. I did and they did. As much as anyone loves a convenient problem solver that’s there when you need them and out of sight, out of mind when you don’t.

On the surface that sounds pretty good for the troubled party and not so great for me. You’d be right on both counts. I was getting used and I knew it. However, some part of me hoped the favor would be returned in my hour of need. It never was. While my logical side expected that outcome; the part of me that dared to hope things would be different was devastated. That’s the story of my life until I finally accepted the reality: if you don’t value yourself neither will anyone else. It’s a hard pill to swallow realizing you’re almost fifty-six and you’ve lived forty-six of those years wallowing in nothingness.

Although I’ve said all this before, I’m going to segue into a slightly different direction and return to my initial statement of seeing the world in a different way than I did before writing my book. While I used to solve people’s problems for them, I don’t do that anymore. It doesn’t help either party. While I’m willing to offer clarity if I have anything worthwhile to offer, what you do with my insights is up to you. We each have to work through our problems in a way that works for us. We have to evaluate the situation for ourselves and act accordingly. We’re the one who is actually living through the situation and we’re the one who is privy to all the little nuances we can’t convey.

Why am I writing this? Because I work with a lovely young woman you can’t help but love. I’ve known her for about a year. I don’t know her intimately. I do know a lot of dramas have played out in her life. Through her interactions with co-workers and the way she talks, it’s apparent she doesn’t value herself as she should. Trying events in her personal life reflect that as well. As much as it pains me to say it, I see too much of me in her. Too much of the “nothing” and not enough of that inherent “something” that gives us value. (As a Christian, that something is the fact I know God created me and loves me because I’m His creation. Again, how you find your self-worth is up to you and your personal path. We all choose what we believe.)

I was talking to this young twenty-something a couple of days ago and she said a couple of things I had to gently correct. I’ve talked with her enough to see her “humility” for what it really is: a total lack of self-worth. I called her on it the other day and she agreed. I don’t know her past or what has caused her to feel the way she feels about herself. If I had to hazard a guess based on the little I know, I’d say she’s been betrayed by too many people she loved who should have loved her in return. Not all of them the men in her life although this last betrayal was definitely the man in her life.

Since I’ve talked to her about what I’ve seen on several occasions to no real effect, I finally offered to give her my book. Let her see the similarities between us for herself. She gladly accepted. I probably should have done that a long time ago; but, it seemed arrogant to me. Like I was doing something somehow self-serving. This time it didn’t feel that way.

Given the current betrayal she’s going through right now, she might be able to identify a little more with some of my experiences than she would have in the past. While our situations aren’t the same, the betrayal is similar. Someone we trusted betrayed us in the worst possible way.

For her, the man she loved walked out on her and his responsibilities. Adding insult to injury, he made their shared workplace so hostile towards her that it was healthier for her to leave a job she needed than be tormented by her co-workers. For me, my white collar, well educated ex-husband beat me and gave me to other men betraying our marriage vows and shattering any remaining self-worth I had. As she’ll see in my book, I was about her age when that happened. I escaped him; but, the patterns were set and the damage was done. Truthfully, the initial damage was done ten years before; but, this was the event that finished me off for the next twenty plus years.

It’s my hope reading my book will help my friend to see herself in a different light. That she’ll begin to see herself the way we see her and find her self-worth. I’m not saying my book will “cure” her. Far from it. But, I am saying she may find some tools she can use to help her on her journey of restoration. While my healing started with a return to my faith, that didn’t suddenly heal me. I’m not saying the Lord can’t do that, He can. I am saying it didn’t happen with me.

To heal, I had to face every brutal thing that ever happened to me. I had to confront every experience head on with complete honesty. I had to work through forty-five years of rage and self-loathing. I had to take responsibility for every bad choice I made that put me in a position to get hurt. But, I didn’t have to take responsibility for what other people did to me. That was their choice and their responsibility. I did have to forgive them and forgive myself. I had to fight every day to change the script in my head. To change the words I said to myself and about myself. I still fight that battle every day. But, I’m so much better than I used to be.

To be honest, I believe that’s the single most important step to emotional healing. You have to stop speaking words of destruction to yourself about yourself. You have to stop speaking them to other people. You have to replace your usual vocabulary with words that reinforce you have value both to yourself and other people. At first, it feels wrong. Like you’re being self-serving. You aren’t. You’re reprogramming yourself to expect to be treated with the same love and respect you treat other people.

In my book, that’s the only way to live.

Until next time,

Calla

Been There, Done That · Been There, Done That Part 2 · emotional healing

Getting Back on Track…

Tori LennoxLeave a comment

It’s been awhile since I could even think about my second book much less put pen to paper. While life is still hectic; I’ve found a moment here and there to write. That’s a good thing. I’ve felt both guilty and lost the past couple of months I haven’t written anything worthwhile. Guilty I’ve neglected my assignment and lost I haven’t engaged in an activity that’s as vital to me as breathing. I tried to write. It didn’t work. I didn’t have the physical or emotional fortitude to wallow in the darkness long enough to share anything of value while my Mom was ill. Now that she’s home, I’m in a different place. So, here it goes.

I’m still brainstorming what I want to include in my second book. I know I don’t have it right because the ideas aren’t flowing easily as they should. While I know the general concept, it’s the additional ideas I want to weave through the story that give me pause. I’m still trying to decide whether my content should be one book or two. Honestly, I probably won’t even begin sifting through my thoughts until January. I work retail . That says it all. In the meantime, I’m going to blog about anything and everything that crosses my mind to get back in the writing game.

What’s on my mind at the moment is a sermon I was listening to this morning on tv. This Pastor is very real and very relatable. He touched on things I still struggle with from time to time. Don’t get me wrong, as far as I’m concerned, I’m healed and restored. However, that doesn’t mean I don’t have brief moments of depression or worthlessness. I just stay diligent reminding myself I can’t be depressed if I’m not willing to embrace the emotion. I’m not being overly simplistic or insensitive. I just happen to know my past (and sometimes present) real, crippling bouts of depression come from how I perceive myself. Not from a chemical imbalance or any other physical cause. It’s emotionally based and always has been. Every self-loathing, suicidal moment I’ve ever experienced can be traced back to the self-hatred caused by some form of abuse or loss.

To cut to the chase, I know if I allow old habits and old perceptions I’ve laid to rest to rise again, I have to fight the battle I’ve fought so many times all over again. Between you and me, that gets old real fast. It’s far better to nip that sense of worthlessness in the bud before it takes root in my psyche again. Right now, it’s a constant battle. I won’t say it always will be. I don’t believe that and I won’t call that state into being. What I do believe is I’m a little over a year from making peace with myself and that isn’t long at all. I have old injuries that took longer than that to fully heal. That being said, only a fool would expect to be completely free of a lifetime of physical, mental, sexual, and emotional abuse in a short period of time and I’m not a fool.

Instead, I’m a woman eagerly anticipating the new life she so recently embarked on. I’m also a woman who’s come to realize we all have skeletons in our closet. We all have experiences in our past that cause great shame. It doesn’t matter your gender or sexual identification. We’re human. What does matter is two things separate the victim from the survivor.

The first is some of us allow that shame to cripple our lives while others eventually confront their negative experience(s), make peace with what happened, and move on to live the life they were meant to live. The second is that some of us use our past traumas to benefit others while others leave those wounds to fester in our souls. I did both. I was very willing to offer my support to other wounded people one on one; but, I never truly dealt with my own wounds. Not a good thing.

On the surface, I functioned well within society. Other people valued me for what I could give them; but, I didn’t value myself. Whether anyone saw it or not, I’ve been a psychological mess for most of my life. While I don’t have a lot of material things to show for forty years of working, I’m college educated and I’ve always excelled professionally even when I didn’t think I did. As sad as it is to say, when you’ve convinced yourself you’re nothing you can’t see the “something” others know you are. If you’re anything like me, because of self-perception, you’re blind to the edifying moments that could change your life. Again, that’s a sad thing.

While I haven’t wrapped this post up the way I expected, I’m going to exit here. Sometimes introspection does more to heal than any words I can type. I’m going to leave it at that.

See you soon,  Calla 

I don’t know what I hit to cause this garbage down below; but, I can’t make it go away right now. I’ll figure it out eventually. In the meantime, I’m going to post anyway! Calla

T

Been There, Done That · Religious

Life Flows On….

Tori Lennox1 Comment

The nightmare is finally over. My Mom came home from Tennessee on Sunday night. She’s doing well. She went to see her doctor today and received a good report. Her blood pressure meds need to be adjusted since she’s lost twenty pounds since her accident; but, considering what she’s been through, that’s wonderful news.

While we’ve completed the renovations on Mom’s bedroom and bathroom, I still have to finish moving her personal belongings from her old room to her new room. After that’s done, I’ll cobble together my room from the “bomb” that hit the two rooms housing my belongings at the moment. Honestly, while it’s organized chaos, there are boxes and belongings everywhere! The living room looks pretty good all things considered. Mom’s old bedroom soon to become my new bedroom looks like a war zone. It wasn’t that bad until I was hit unexpectedly with yet another move that had to take place immediately. What would have taken me all day to do right had to be done in less than two hours! Life happens, you roll with it, and organized chaos degenerates to a nuclear blast.

However, that being said, I’ve had five weeks of fifteen to eighteen hour work days between my full time job, shifting rooms, and completing my part of the renovations. I’m done with that for now. I’ve decided to take my time and complete the rest of the job over the next couple of months. It just makes more sense now that the urgency is gone. Besides, my body’s cried, “Uncle” and I need to listen. The crazy pace can’t go on.

In the meantime, I’m going to relax a little, take my Mom to the gym, and resume writing these blogs. I’ve missed both the introspection and the sharing. While I’ve been gone for much too long; I never abandoned Calla’s Comments. Not really. I have too many things to say. I did choose to take a break at a time I wasn’t being read when life was totally overwhelming. I started a couple of blogs that were never finished so, my thoughts were with you if my pen wasn’t.

Now that I’m back, I’d like to thank everyone reading this. I hope my life helps you. That’s the whole point of the writing. The second thing I want to do is give credit where credit is due. I wouldn’t have made it through this traumatic period without my faith. I was largely alone and struggling to deal everything that happened. It was touch and go there with my Mom for a couple of weeks. She could have died at any time while I was over two hours away getting garbled information about what was happening to her. Fortunately, family was there; but, it wasn’t me since I had to work. That was the horrible part of it all. That I couldn’t be there.

When I felt I couldn’t take anymore, I handed the fear, exhaustion, and Rheumatoid off to God. That was the only way I could make it through the day. What I couldn’t handle, He could, and did. Every day throughout the day. No matter how I felt, I knew I wasn’t alone. God was with me. I felt His presence when I needed it most. When I cried out for answers, He gave them to me. When I faltered, He was with me. He gave me the strength to do what had to be done.

While I try to write these blogs so anyone embracing any belief system can get something out of them, every now and then I’m compelled to write with an overtly Christian slant. I won’t apologize for that. The personal relationship I have with God/Jesus/the Holy Spirit is the most valuable “possession” I own. I’ve worked hard to reach the point I am now. To believe I’m worthy to have God’s love. To have anyone’s love. That wasn’t His fault as I’ve already said in other places.

My self-perception was a result of my life up to the point I wrote Been There, Done That…Had The Smashed-Up Face To Prove It. That was the point where I chose to redefine myself to myself and I chose to do that as God sees me and not as I’ve always seen myself. That decision was the major turning point I’ve been building on ever since and maintaining that healthy self-image takes a close walking/talking relationship with my Creator. The one who loves me no matter who I am, what I think, and what’s been done to me.

I’ve said enough for today. Until next time,

Calla