Breaking Into Beast-mode

Musical Selection: Peg by Steely Dan

Photo by Sharad Kachhi via Pexels

I haven’t played
a bad hand in
a couple of decades
so the fear of one
landing in my lap
terrifies me worse
than losing a game
of spades in a
freshmen college
dorm room.

I told a fellow writer
the other day,
“We’re just playing
with time, now. We’re
not old enough to
give up but we’re not
young enough to still
get googly-eyed over
the small stuff.”

I didn’t mean it …

I still get googly-eyed
over the small stuff.

When your heart
is wrapped up
in something, nobody
can stop you from
pursuing that thing.
It becomes what you
chase after with a force
that can dominate your
opposers.

Breaking into beast-mode
should be a career.
Creative minds run
rampant when headed
toward their own
tunnels of light.

Little bundles of
treasure await each
and every one of us.

And like “Peg,” we’ll gladly
“smile for the camera”
when our time comes.


Steely Dan, Peg

Gratitude for the Future

Last night, I started keeping a gratitude journal for a recently introduced venture to take place in the near future. I journal regularly, but only to write out my thoughts, feelings, and perhaps the day I’ve had for reflection.

I am thankful for the gifts & talents with which I’ve been blessed, and it is an awesome experience to have people recognize them.

Below is a picture of the quote on the front cover of my journal.

Sunday has given me another chance to wake up and do great things to help and shine a light on some beautiful people. And I am going to do that.

I think I am headed in the right direction. I hope your day will be an outstanding one!

Front Cover Journal Quote Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

The Grieving Room

Photo by Keegan Houser on Unsplash

Stepping out of my comfort zone and finally feeling free

I have done three different things this week, all of which have taken me out of my comfort zone a bit, and placed me in a space I had not met before. I will start with the why of it all. Why have I done these things? What am I looking to gain from having done them? How will I move forward now with each of them started and a part of who I am?

When you are a fearful person, everything that falls outside of your line of comfort scares you. The dreams you have festering in your mind continue to fester because you fear every move you need to make in order to make those dreams your reality.

I have lived at least twenty years of my life stuck in constant fear of the unknown, yet the unknown is what I am drawn/connected to. It is where I want to be — where I see myself at my happiest. So, how do I get there if I stay stuck in the same spot — afraid to move? I won’t. And that had to change. It is changing.

So, what did I do — which three things?


Others recognize my strength as a writer — this gives me joy

Late last year, I submitted to a publication called The Short of It, which is hosted by editor Susi Bocks. The premise of the online publication is to publish “exquisite expressions in tiny explosions.” I submitted five micro-poems all the while, thinking, as I am often wont to do, they would not be chosen, and they were.

The editor published the feature for the five poems in the wee hours of Friday, July 29, 2022, and you can find each poem here. I want to share one poem with you, though — one that encompasses all that I have been feeling of late about myself and the world at large.

Pressure

she sits on the sea’s floor
shaped by the world
above it–changed forever.
the workers of ancient
tongues sift through
her words, chanting
their dismissals.
the pressure from centuries
ago labels her again
and again.
is this the chosen path
home or not?

To see these poems of mine hosted via The Short of It amongst many other writers whom I read daily and find comfort in doing so gives me an incredible amount of joy. For a couple of years, I’d ceased submitting to both online and print publications because the number of rejections was mounting, and I did not have the strength to scale that mountain any longer.

Braving it once again allowed me not only to submit to The Short of It, but also to write an essay catered to and about Black Joy regarding country music. I had in mind the publication (via Medium) I want this work to be connected to, so I wrote the essay with the publication’s theme sounding off as I typed each word.

I edited, fine-tuned, and combed through every word at different intervals. The time came to apply to be a writer. I did — again, fearful that I would not be their choice. I received the acceptance email also on Friday, July 29, 2022, and had been advised to submit the draft to the publication for continued review.

If you are a writer on/from Medium reading this, or if you have submitted your work to any viable or indomitable publication, whether online or in print, you know this does not mean the work will be published. This means you are IN. The publication will now work with you to bring your best work to their audience or they could decline every new submission if not tailored to their liking/theme accordingly.

I am hopeful the essay will be published, though, and I am optimistic about its chances. Again, there is joy racing through my bones solely about being accepted as a writer for this publication because I had been so afraid to even apply just two years ago.

I pushed myself out of my comfort zone and walked to exactly where I needed to be. And now, the journey is such a freeing one.


When people connect with your writing — they want to build with you

On Friday — yes, there’s a theme here. Do you see it? A fellow writer who is also an entrepreneur, artist, and creative powerhouse, left a comment on a previous TGR newsletter pertinent to my “dream” job and future goals. I read the comment — reached out to her. This morning, we had an hour-plus-long call that can only breed good things from this moment forward.

I am confident in her vision and in what we discussed as a game plan. It is intentional. It is laser-focused on a certain topic. It is exactly what I believe most of us need right now and in the immediate future — especially me. Prayerfully, early next year will produce more great things because of this interaction.

If I had not been writing my heart out — not sharing my difficulties and breakthroughs with grief — I never would have made this connection. If I had not taken a moment to break away from that pesky comfort zone of mine, I would not have sent the email or hopped on the call.

She saw — has seen something in my writing for years that made her want to build with me. There is no phrase — no way of actually describing this feeling that can do it justice.

When you are doing what your heart pushes you to do, the right people see it.


I whisper these accomplishments to the wind, and she hears them

The one thing that shatters my heart, though, about my newfound freedom is the fact that I cannot verbally share this with my cousin and hear her response. But I whisper it into the open air. I bend the ear of the flirting trees. I allow myself to bounce ideas out loud and nod when I feel like she approves — supports them.

I have learned that freedom from fear comes when the comfort zone is squashed. I am learning to guide myself down paths that speak to me and feel safe with more of an open mind. I am learning that although my cousin is no longer here to experience everything with me as I experience these things in real time — she is in my heart tapping at the center of me, at just the right moment.

And every tear that falls doesn’t come from me being sad anymore — they sometimes come with an undeniable air of joy surrounding me at every turn.

Find a place inside where there’s joy, and the joy will burn out the pain. — Joseph Campbell

Welcome to The Grieving Room. I am here. You are here. We are not alone in this.

See you next Saturday


©2022 Tremaine L. Loadholt Originally published in The Grieving Room newsletter via LinkedIn.

Tremaine L. Loadholt

Many thanks to Susi Bocks for accepting these five micropoems. I am happy to be included in The Short of It. I hope you will visit the original post to like, and to possibly leave a comment.

Peace and blessings!

I Write Her

vadim kaipov – Unsplash

Pressure

she sits on the sea’s floor
shaped by the world
above it–changed forever.
the workers of ancient
tongues sift through
her words, chanting
their dismissals.
the pressure from centuries
ago labels her again
and again.
is this the chosen path
home or not?

The Brave Girl Knoweth Not

enchanting winds sway
over the clandestine clouds
she speaks of hard times
the chosen few laugh
behind her back, valleys shift
to the hills of life
brave girl knoweth not
of love or impending storms
she prepares for pain

Good Dog  

good dog sleeps alone
savors the sunlight of morn
drifting into dreams
human loves her more each day
Mother Nature gifts them peace

Winter Knocks But Isn’t Allowed Entry

Temperatures tank throughout
the day, mimicking winter blues.
We shuffle along in life, wrapping
our bodies in extra clothing.
We are layered for bitter chill,
the calm…

View original post 182 more words

flash

Jernee Timid, eating breakfast. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

morning sun slides
into my kitchen
greets the dog
while she eats

I stand back to
monitor her motions

will she keep
this batch of
food down twenty
minutes from now

or
will I find myself
racing to beat
regurgitated bits

from covering my
clean floor

we wait and see
maybe Sunday will
send peace our way

and I won’t have
to react in a
flash
always on
never off

for her


I wrote this a week ago when Jernee wasn’t feeling too well. Of course (and thankfully), she’s much better now.