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Sunday, April 13, 2014


 For this discussion, let's say we can omit our kids, our grandkids, our home, our spouse, our relatives, our dog or cat, and maybe even cooking and gardening.
Any one of these listed items can be fulfilling and important, but unless you're a highly acclaimed chef, cooking is not a passion. Sure, some of us love to cook, but I'd bet we're not passionate about making dinner every night.

Definition of Passionate:
"Showing or caused by strong feelings or a strong belief."

I could add more to this, but it's enough for a beginning.

When I thought about people who "had a passion," these famous people came to mind: Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King, Abraham Lincoln, the Defenders of the Alamo, Oprah, Marie Curie, Florence Nightingale.

But these people probably didn't mentally choose their  place in history--it evolved, and each one became more passionate as time went on.

I thought of athletes who trained an entire lifetime for one gold medal; one who studied and sought a way to be the first to climb Mr. Everest; one who decided to run a race even though his legs were gone; and maybe one who thought to create a gadget we call a computer.

So, far, I feel rather inadequate and insignificant. Maybe you do, too. However, anyone can be passionate about something. It doesn't have to be huge or earth-shattering.

I would warn a person to be careful about choosing a passion--or allowing a passion to choose you--some passions can eventually put you in the poor house; or some may make you feel as though you're going crazy; or some may isolate you from your friends and the world.

Now, big question: What is your passion? Don't tell me you don't have one, because we all do.

When you discern the label of your passion, answer these questions:
1. Did you ever consider this a passion?
2. Is passionate the same as obsessed?
3. Is it easy or difficult?
4. Is it fun?
5. Can you shut out the world to carry out your passion?
6. If someone demanded it of you, could you give it up?

Hard, isn't it?
~~For me,  writing novels and short stories is a hobby, a craft, because I do it in my spare time.
~~I loved to play golf, but again, that was a game and something to do in my spare time.
~~We traveled quite a bit many places, but that was an adventure, something fun and interesting.

I'm not sure I have a real passion, although I do care very much about certain things.

If you comment and tell me yours, I'll tell you mine.
Thanks so much for taking time to read my blog.

Celia Yeary-Romance...and a little bit 'o Texas

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Our Insensitive/Too Sensitive World

People seem to be offended very easily these days, usually about something that doesn't even make sense or matter.
But on the other hand, people are sometimes too insensitive to others.

On the way home from a road trip, we stopped at a McDonald's to have one of those dollar sundaes. We sat next to a wall where I could "people watch."  Nearby, we watched a young woman in some kind of uniform that resembled scrubs talking intently across the table to a young boy--maybe ten years old. He wore khaki pants, belt, and a polo shirt that appeared to be a school uniform. The child kept his head down, as though he didn't want to look at the woman. She talked, he sat still and listened, but never looked up.

After a few minutes, she stood and walked toward the door, leaving the child in the booth. I thought the woman appeared a little angry, but not really--just intense. Then the boy slid out of the booth, stood up, but still looked down. From his pocket, he removed a gadget that looked like a short metal rod.
Then he pulled on it, extending it out to about three feet long. It had a white tip.
Then he looked up, and we saw his sightless eyes. The woman stood by the door, and talked him toward her, very quietly. He used the cane to guide himself, making sure nothing was in his path.

We were a little stunned.
Two young men stood hear the counter, obviously workmen on some crew, waiting for their orders. They watched just as we did. One sort of snickered, but the other one looked at his friend and solemnly shook his head.

One sensitive young man; one insensitive.

And then there're the overly-sensitive among us.
In fact, we take great pains in our present society not to offend anyone or any group. Well, this becomes incredibly cumbersome, in my opinion.

As I analyze the "too sensitive" syndrome, I realize the real problem is misunderstanding of others. If there's something in particular that we don't like or makes us uncomfortable, then we'd like to have that changed to suit our own agenda.
We take it personally.

When our children were in school, they would have some sort of problem that they wanted to relate to me in detail. I listened as any good mom would do, but then asked what he/she intended to do about it. The answer usually was, "Mom! Can't you do something?" Each of them wanted me to change someone or some situation so they'd feel happy again, no longer uncomfortable, and no longer sensitive to a predicament. 
The best thing we taught our children was to learn to cope in their environment. We cannot change everything--but we can learn to cope and move along.
The little blind boy was learning to cope with his environment.
The insensitive young man was learning that his friend didn't like his attitude.
And the sensitive young man looked, inwardly sympathized, but moved on.

"Live and let live; you cannot control others."

What does all my rambling mean?
~*~We don't like to be criticized.
~*~We don't like to be wrong.
~*~We don't like to be on the losing side.
~*~We don't like a bad review.
~*~We don't like to appear uninformed.
~*~We don't like to be reprimanded.
~*~We don't like anyone telling us what to do.
~*~We don't like to get out of our comfort zone.
~*~We don't like rejections.
~*~We don't like changes.

I'm still learning about the coping vs. the active changing. I face this often with my writing, my publishers, my editors, my...whatever. Do I cope and let them run the show? Am I being too sensitive to push for a change? 
Am I too aggressive trying to make things go my way?

I wonder if I try hard enough sometimes to understand the other side.
I admit...I'm not very good at it.
Shouldn't the other side try, too?
Celia Yeary-Romance...and a little bit 'o Texas

Monday, March 24, 2014


 I call it "griping," because that's the word my mother used. "Celie Ann, stop your griping and make your bed. It's not going to make itself."
To be fair and also to defend myself, I most often complain when hunger strikes me. Maybe I have low blood sugar or something, but if I'm hungry, don't push me. All my friends know this."Uh-oh, feed her so she'll shut up."
As a general rule, I'm not a complainer...much. Most of the time I do it out of boredom or to make conversation or some other inane reason.

 I learned that complaining, though, is not all bad. It can actually be a Creative Act. The more you complain, the more you summon your creative energies to attract something to complain about.  Maybe the complaints seem fully justified, but realize that whenever you complain, you set yourself up  for more of the same. Just remember the part about  "complaining is a creative act", and you might find yourself writing a novel. Hmmm.
 Complaining is the act of reinforcing what you don’t want. Is this bad? I think not. Perhaps it's therapeutic.

 A warning: Complaining is also addictive. The more you do it, the more it becomes an ingrained habit, making it more difficult to stop.
Some people complain too much about their own lives. This is a trap that gives this person a constant source of something to complain about.  "Bad luck follows me; Life is too difficult; Why can't I get a break?"  The complainer may tell you their reality is causing their complaints, but it’s more accurate to say their reality is reflecting their complaints.
"If you have time to whine and complain about something then you have the time to do something about it."  ~Anthony J. D'Angelo, The College Blue Book

 Yes, but after analyzing myself, I believe I complain about trivial events that really have nothing to do with me. When I fully realized this, I honestly trid to keep my mouth closed and push the ugly thoughts away.
We have a neighbor who refuses to mow his property, so that the tall dead grass is a permanent fixture. I  say something about that every time we pass the house. It has nothing to do with my life, it just annoys me. So, why do I persist in complaining about it? The time has come for me to ignore it.
Bad parkers really make me complain. You who know me understand I sort of go ballistic over a vehicle parked diagonally in a straight-in space, a driver in front of me who sits at a green light because he/she is on the phone or texting, or someone who throws litter out a car window. I really don't think I can stop complaining about these....sorry.

Do your characters complain?
Do you dislike characters in a novel who complain?
Hmm, I don't know. I suppose it depends on what the person is complaining about.
I try very hard not to be a chronic complainer...but sometimes..I must or I'll throw a fit.

Celia Yeary-Romance...and a little bit 'o Texas