I have a good friend with whom I’ve never spoken…I have a famous celebrity friend with whom I HAVE spoken…I have friends who impress me through their actions…I have friends who make me belly laugh…I have friends who piss me off…
Motivation for me is wrapped in the colorful variety of people I know in my life.
I love my name. I guess we’re talking about our first name here. Mine is Tim. Very infrequently Timothy. I have no clue why my parents picked that name but I’m proud of it and I would never change it. I’m even more pleased that I’m named after someone in The Bible who’s a pretty darn good disciple in the eyes of God.
Our names were a gift from our parents. It’s their first gift of their combined love for us. It’s sacred.
Our names are who we are from birth to death. We love it when we hear it. It’s what makes us special.
Tim. That’s who I am.
Scary proposition. Nothing in life is free. But if this were a legitimate check then I would give away as much as I could- 50% right away to the Catholic Church, for a modest attempt to repay God’s lifetime of gifts to me, then take care of my kids and my granddaughter, pay off all my debt, buy a modest house and car, hire a secretary to transcribe my writings and get them ready for publication. Then start giving it away to worthy charities.
But again, nothing in life is free, nor should it be. So this is a writing prompt which has no realistic relevance.
This is a fun one. Large house, maybe 4000 s.f. Single-story. Snow white outside and inside with an occasional accent wall in several rooms. I like brightness. Out the large living room bay windows is the ocean. Out the kitchen windows, vast greenery with live oaks covered in Spanish moss. Place- Corona del Mar, CA or Savannah, GA. I like oceans. Lots of windows. Indoor and outdoor showers. Two fireplaces. Skylights. Reading room. Indoor garden room. A happy place. And of course no happy house is complete without the obligatory Golden Retriever.
Clearly mine was in September of 2017. Open heart surgery, double bypass. The 5 hour surgery went well. It was the recovery, specifically, taking out the intubator, where things went wrong. I kept losing my breath as they tried to extract the tube. My lungs had collapsed and would not takeover again. I was groggy, but awake. My ex was in the room and I could hear her asking, “is he ok?” I literally said to myself, when I felt like I was drowning, that it was not like me, and would be cowardly, but I was going to give up. I was scared and envisioned starting my next life. It was as real as it gets. Suffocation is horrible because it’s slow. Even now, typing this post, I get nervous at how close I came to giving in to death. God saved me for another day.
The power to get people to do what I want them to do, the power to influence people to get them to at least listen to me, give my thoughts and opinions credence. As an unpublished writer this superpower would solve that problem. After all, to be read you have to write what your readers would read. Having the power to influence people would be a great superpower.