-
RSS Become a Fan

Delivered by FeedBurner


Recent Posts

The Rejection
Every Penny
100 Days
The Girl at the Cashier
Isolation

Archives

July 2020
June 2020
March 2020
February 2020
January 2020
December 2019
November 2019
October 2019
September 2019
August 2019
July 2019
June 2019
May 2019
April 2019
March 2019
February 2019
January 2019
December 2018
November 2018
October 2018
September 2018
August 2018
July 2018
June 2018
May 2018
April 2018
March 2018
February 2018
January 2018
December 2017
November 2017
October 2017
September 2017
August 2017
July 2017
June 2017
May 2017
April 2017
March 2017
February 2017
January 2017
December 2016
November 2016
October 2016
September 2016
August 2016
July 2016
June 2016
May 2016
April 2016
March 2016
February 2016
January 2016
December 2015
November 2015
October 2015
September 2015
August 2015
July 2015
June 2015
May 2015
April 2015
February 2015
January 2015
December 2014
November 2014
October 2014
September 2014
August 2014
July 2014
June 2014
May 2014
February 2014
November 2013
July 2013
June 2013

powered by

The "Wu Word" Blog

July 2020

The Rejection

In my very early 20’s, my very first job was at a nursing home.  I worked in the acute rehab center where I played “cheerleader” to short-term residents to engage them in such activities as bingo and arts and crafts.  Most of these residents did not take me seriously.  They took one doubtful look at me and spouted almost scornfully, “You could be my daughter.  Why should I do what you tell me?”  I played it off with a big smile and kept on with pity, sympathy, and empathy deep inside me that many of these elderly residents whether in my department or in others were waiting in wheelchairs for their family to visit with many family members actually not visiting.  I often find that feeling pity rather than anger for someone makes for more tolerance, patience, and peace.  I’ll take all that over anger. 
 
I actually loved my job!  I always felt a kinship with the elderly.   I loved painting pretty pale pink nail polish on one of my favorite residents, talking about the news events with another resident who always had her silver strands plaited in a braid and walked delicately with her cane, and I even loved one of the most fiery and crabby red-headed residents who stared outside of the window waiting for her son who never really visited her. 
 
About three months into the job, though, I was let go.  The reason was that there were cutbacks.  I was not wanted.  I was not needed.  Rather than me choosing to leave on my own, I was told to leave. I felt and was rejected and in tears to bid farewell to my favorite residents.  I was convinced and my own worst enemy that I just did not do good enough with my very first job.  I hate that I care so much when others could not care less about me.
 
I was told from those older than me that I was young and resilient and it is different when you are older and when you are not wanted AND there really are no job prospects because companies and organizations are looking for younger and even cheaper labor.  I was told that when you are young, you are giving much more passes in the work world than when you are older, you are just passed by like yesterday’s news and the work world gets harder on you.  To a certain degree, all my older and wiser peoples were right.  I moved on to next jobs.  I bounced back quicker than I can imagine compared to now.  Months after my next job, I found a job advertisement for the same job at the same location that I worked at the nursing home.  To me, it meant that maybe there weren’t cutbacks and it was just me that I was not really wanted for that role and that if people do not want you then they will find a way to get rid of you or make your life miserable if you try really hard to stay strong, stick around, and hold on.    
 
To see that job advertisement, it was a bit of a reopened wound that brought back a flood of memories of my very first job, but very important lessons came about and have stuck with me since. Us complex-minded humans are very much about reverse psychology.  When we are not wanted then we want it more.  When we are wanted then we do not want it anymore.  To have that choice or free will to look someone or something upfront and confront and say: “Yes, I’m choosing to leave now,” is drastically different than being told, “Yes, you have to leave now.”  The feelings of not being good enough, less than, rejection, unwanted, unneeded, second best, backburner, rebound, an option rather than a priority come crashing down on us and bring us down when you are told to leave over having the choice to leave.  Then, there is that knowing (alas, ignorance is bliss) deep down inside when you are not wanted or needed, but choosing to stay and hold on versus letting go and leaving because you just do not want anyone or anything getting the best out of you and bringing out the worst.  Over the years, it has become very clear to me when I am not wanted and, if I have the choice, leave first where I am not wanted or needed.  Why stick around with those who do not want you to stick around?  Why second guess when it is clear that I am second best?    Perhaps this all comes with confidence, worth, and self-esteem that is the ongoing human struggle.
 
When were you rejected?  When did you reject someone else?  When did you try to stick around and hold on when you knew you were not wanted?  Or did you leave before being told to leave?    
 
Keep smilin’ until we meet again,
 

Mary ;-) 

Every Penny

I miss traveling. And I miss my pennies.  Let me explain.
 
One of my earliest and happiest memories was on a lengthy plane ride to Hong Kong to see my grandparents who I only met for the first time when I was close to 10-years-old.  There was something exhilarating about all of us crammed in an airplane, the little rectangle trays of airplane food, the sound of the wheeled carts giving off a lilting clatter holding juice and bottles of wine, and the endless movies and need to move up and down the narrow aisles.  There was something magical about taking off in one place and ending up in a completely different and exotic place hours later.  Hong Kong always held a special place for me because it was the very first place internationally that I traveled alone. 
 
I hold on to memories of my first cruise with my sister.  A floating hotel, it was called.  Sis and I did not do so well with the motion sickness and drank so much ginger ale and relied religiously on anti-motion sickness bands with pressure points gripped on to our wrists.  However, watching movies under a starlit sky, swimming with the limitless sky above, and gorging on creamy chocolate pudding made up for any ill feeling that my body was subjected to. 
 
I relive in my mind long road trips that began when I was 10-years-old to Canada with my dad and sister.  I sang to Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey blasting in my ear drums from my Walkman.  I thrived on greasy foods of burgers, fries, and milkshakes with endless land before my eyes. 
 
Travel traditions began in my late 20’s and 30’s.  Every two years, meet with my dear friend in Spain in some destination in the world for us to gallivant and explore together.  Every two years, Transplant Games of America in a mysterious majestic USA state that I only had the chance to see and experience and swim in a glorious swimming pool thanks to my organ donor and organ donor families.  A yearly trip with my sister.  Anywhere in the world.  The world was vast and open and ready for me to embrace and taste every sight and sound.  And, whenever I landed in my destination, the ONLY souvenir gift that I wished for and searched for when I was on my travels, was to find a penny machine.   I popped in the cents that no one really cared much about and wound the crank until my copper zinc Abraham Lincoln one cent coupled with quarters was crushed to create a mere image that was reminiscent of that particular travel.     
 
I bought my Penny Passport book only a couple years ago, but it has already filled with 22 pennies of my travels in Japan and New Mexico, Utah, Georgia, Washington, California, and Pennsylvania states.   Every penny has a tiny sleeved home in my Penny Passport book.   Every penny brings back a memory of who I was with, what I was doing, the sights, and sounds, and anything that really means everything to me.  I’ve been looking through my Penny Passport book and every single penny longingly and lovingly with the wanderlust emerging and hoping for the days that I can travel again.   I am struck that no one has cared or given much thought to a mere Penny, but out of all the cents in our USA currency, the Penny has meant the most to me.  I want the pennies that are only 1 single cent, but hold all the more priceless for me when I find a Penny Machine to make a memory and momento for me.  My love for these pennies as souvenirs is so great that when people travel, they will try to find a Penny Machine for me to make a memory and momento of their own to give to me and to share with me.  How incredible and priceless of a gift is that?  When did you experience something that seems of little value only to be the most priceless? 
 
I miss getting away.  I miss change of scenery beyond the walls of my apartment and pace that exists in an unknown place that beckons for me to know it.  On the flip and strange side, I find myself surprised that I have also discovered and learned more about myself and others on my sedentary travels and explorations at home, close by towns, and neighborhoods near me.  I’ve fallen in love with the riverfronts, discovered community in homes and houses and apartments here, and explored the tiny shops and restaurants making me see the importance of community and that there is that fine balance of discovering about oneself at home and elsewhere.   It is now a luxury to travel outside of the walls of our home.  I treasure my passport that contains stamps of my destinations, travels, memories, and moments, but I treasure my “Penny Passport” even more.   It is a scary world out there.  But, it is also so incredibly wondrous and wonderful that I crave to see again.
 
Every penny that seems so little value has been priceless for me in my travels.  Are there certain souvenirs or momentos that you seek out when you travel to bring back certain memories when you are back home?  Where is the last place that you traveled to before this all started?  What travel plans have you had to cancel?  Where is the first place you want to travel to and land in when time permits again? Do you care at all for pennies at all right here in your home or elsewhere?

Keep smilin’ until we meet again,
 
Mary

 
Website Builder provided by  Vistaprint