Tyler Colins's Blog, page 4

The Hamster Wheel

Ever feel like you’re running on one of those things? Every time you (I) think you’re (I’m) going to embark on a new project/goal, something gets in the way. Work, life, health.

Woosh, swoosh, woosh. You’re (I’m) hastening along that wheel, legs hurrying and scurrying, arms driving forward determinedly, and it’s going nowhere. Fast. Woosh, swoosh, woosh.

The good thing? Eventually, you (I) get off that wheel, the infinite loop, the unchanging convolution. Feet back on terra firma. An end’s in sight—that project/goal. And now you’re (I’m) runnin’ up that hill with no problems (as Kate B sang it) … and reaching the top.

Who doesn’t relish a challenge or three? 

Admiration for Transformation

*** “Don’t fear death, fear the un-lived life.” ― Natalie Babbitt, artist & writer ***

Kudos to those who can constantly transform themselves / their lives. That takes confidence. An ability to leap into the void and take it all as it comes. I greatly admire that. While I’ve gone through transitions, I’ve never truly embraced transformations. Always longed to. Never had the self-assurance. But then, maybe I also never had the opportunity.

*** “Life shrinks or expands in proportion with one’s courage.” — Anaïs Nin, diarist, novelist, essayist ***

Things are going to change. Slowly but surely, a new me is forming within my head—or maybe it’s better to say, a new “direction” is. I won’t share yet, not until that vision is less nebulous, more defined. I’m thinking three months, give or take.

Not bad re timing—the perfect time for [serious] spring-cleaning. And rebuilding.

*** “Your life is a book; make it a bestseller.” ― Shanon Grey, author ***

Happy Valentine’ Day

May your day be filled with lots of hugs and kisses … and sweets and treats. (I see a Hershey’s Kiss calling my name.)

Deadlines be Damned

…when you can’t make a target date. Or your laptop ‘s various security portals won’t allow you to long onto WordPress. As such, I’ve missed two postings. Ah well. It’s all good because here I am again.

Yours truly had a lovely break in rural Cuba—a lovely resort surrounded by fenceless horse farms on a beautiful beach. Nothing like waking up to livestock grazing about outside.

Loved the vintage cars (delighted in driving in a ’57 Chevy Bel Air), adopted a dog (or three) for the week, and meandered for miles. Enjoyed decent food and drinks, available in abundance (which many took advantage of, and are likely still recovering from certain hangovers).

The lush setting(s), humble and kind persons … the “hard faces” and poverty … spurred several ideas for this writer … but not as many as the emotions/thoughts that the many striking realities provoked.

Nothing like venturing into a communist country to make one realize how fortunate one is living in a democratic one—simple things taken for granted (soap, medicine, toothpaste) are difficult to obtain for the repressed. A sad “state” indeed.

Just One More

… for the road … for now … for later.

Addictions. Dependencies. Cravings. Vices (for some). They’re hard to control, much less conquer.

A one-upon-a-time fan of Ruth Rendell, I found a copy of her 2008 “Portobello” in the building’s lounge library. Snatched it. Am devouring it, but slowly. She has a gift for getting into people’s heads—the obsessions, doubts and reservations. The darkness.

Eugene, one of the main characters, develops an addiction to no-sugar-added Chocorange candies. Half the book, it seems, revolves around his desire to consume these sweeties, his guilt for wanting (having) to, and his reasoning and justification for doing so. Who else but Rendell can do this AND maintain a reader’s interest?

That got me to thinking about my own. The one true addiction: salt. I over-salt EVERYTHING. At least I used to. I am most pleased to say that three weeks ago, I managed to cease salting everything. Went cold turkey. …But I suppose I’ve acquired a replacement: a salt-free substitute to enhance flavor. Mrs. Dash—Garlic&Herb, in case you’re curious. 

To each their own. And on that note, think I’ll return to my “temporary” addiction of the moment, finishing “Portobello” and finding out how many more Chocoranges Eugene sucks back before he triumphs over his addiction … if he indeed does.

The Ever-Present

Challenges. Trials and tribulations. Disasters—natural or manmade.

Some days, it seems next to impossible to maintain hope when all appears to be crumbling around. At times, literally.

It’s like successfully navigating iceberg-dense waters with the desired destination in sight, only to strike an unseen floating body of jagged ice.

But hopefulness can, should—and does—reside in the face of helplessness. It’s viewable in the care and love people extend when others have tragedies befall, and it’s astounding and beautiful to behold. A coming together that might be unimaginable under everyday/routine circumstances.

Offering gratitude for the support of communities, friends and families, and strangers (God bless them all) doesn’t seem enough. And yet, it is. It’s a vocal/physical expression of understanding, compassion and sympathy that befriends and bonds.

Words from the heart and soul may not be corporeal like hugs and kisses and supportive arms, but they can speak volumes … and lend themselves to setting action in motion.

Amen.

The Boggled Blog

True, a blog can’t actually be boggled—unlike its owner. T’is I, then, the baffled blogger, boggled at a bewildering conundrum: what to do with the “web log” in 2025?

Originally, its purpose was to promote the Triple Threat Investigation Agency series, as well as provide writing and editing tips for fellow authors. That went well for quite some time.

People change, as do circumstances and tastes. Tips had been proudly provided in abundance to the point of saturation. \more significantly—the mysteries had ceased. They were fun but are no longer a muse.

More fascinating and vastly more challenging are relationships and interactions, trials and tribulations, whimsies and oddities. Instead of following culprits and clues, why not traverse [and reside in] other realms?

The quest for a new online platform has been on the backburner … but there the aforementioned conundrum lies. This [former] mystery writer will have to slip on her Sherlock Holmes cap one last time to collect the facts that will provide the solution.

Nothing Wrong with Short & Sweet

Simply a short and sweet year-end post to wish everyone a fabulous start to 2025.

Here’s to a new year filled with blessings and peace, dreams coming true, and hopes fulfilled.

XOX

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like …

… yeah, yay! Santa Day, also known as Christmas … and Hanukkah … with Kwanzaa one day after.

There’s a blanket of white on the ground here with a lovely temp today of -21 with the windchill. Can you spell b-r-r-r-r-r-r? 

I’m all for white Christmases—like the sand found on southern beaches. Snow’s soft and pretty, but sand’s soft and warm.

Whatever your weather preference … wherever you are … most happy holidays. May your hearts fill with glee, hearths keep you cozy, and your hopes be fulfilled.

Finding my Mojo

…in a music magazine.

With all the [distracting/detracting] things having gone on over the years, it’s been hard to sit down and actually read something … anything. So, given my love of music is resurging, I went for a magazine. Mojo. A long-established UK music mag that focuses mainly on artists who’ve been around the block—many a few times, some quite successfully so.

It’s quite a good read, not tabloid-like with “tidbits” about well, sex, drugs and rock-n-roll, but informative and rather well written (though the editor in me sees the odd thing my “red pen” might like to “fix”—bad habit I apply to everything that falls on my plate, LOL).

This edition had Bowie on the cover (apparently, he’s a fave) and had a 15-song disc featuring “dystopian sci-fi rock” tracks. Ooof. Liked a couple of the tunes but that CD was what I’m tempted to label creepily unsettling.

Halfway through the chocka-block full mag. Savoring the read. Digesting the info. An enlightening way to spend a brrrrrisk northern wintery weekend.