This and That

The Journey

What is more exciting when you have a preset destination in mind; the journey in getting to said destination or arriving at the actual destination itself?


Tough call isn’t?

I bet if you took a random poll you’d get many different responses and a multitude of reasons why they answered what they did.

What I want to talk about is the journey in getting to said destination. I think I just heard half of you groan. Yes, I’m sure many of you are remembering tortuous family car trips as a child. I hope this doesn’t bring about any PTSD so I’ll jump right in and get to it.

When I began writing I could only see the finish line, or more appropriately the final destination. Write a Pulitzer prize winning novel, get published, become famous, and get invited to the Oprah show (yes, I daydreamed a lot about being on Oprah) and life would be a-ma-zing. End of journey.

I sort of missed the entire journey part and what it took to reach the destination. No one mentioned the cracks in the pavement, potholes in the road, detours, tollbooths, needed passports, maps, GPS’s, did I forget to mention that this journey would be long and sometimes unpleasant and perhaps a bit stinky? I should probably leave my sparkly shoes for Oprah in their box since this journey required comfy, ugly shoes.


Crap. Do not pass go, do not collect $200 and do not put on your sparkly shoes.

What I forgot about myself, first and foremost is, I’ve always been a writer, or at least highly creative. I may not have known to put all of my “stories” to pen and paper, but I have lived in a fantasy world for as long as I can remember. I heard the word Author and instantly I not only revered it, but also feared it.

This all mighty word is my destination. It is my dream. Dreams are awesome! Dreams can also shatter and turn into nightmares.

Could chasing the golden goose turn on me and turn my goose into bronze? How would I suddenly turn off a life filled with creativity if all my fears were confirmed? Wouldn’t living with my doubts be better than living with rejection? Suddenly I wasn’t so sure about this journey. Wasn’t there an option, like in the game of Life, for the short route to instant success? Where was the easy button?

easy button

I looked down the long road to where I wanted to go and my destination suddenly seemed so far away. With each passing day it became apparent that I knew nothing about filling in potholes or taking backroads to avoid tollbooths. My dream of ever wearing my sparkly shoes on Oprah was diminishing. I was diminishing.

For a long time I took the safe route avoiding every construction zone possible. My sensible shoes were supporting my feet. I was respectful. Dotting every i, crossing every t, and I hadn’t been pushed out into traffic once. I also hadn’t been inspired for longer than I can ever remember.

I recently took out my destination map and looked at that big, scary word again. Author. For reasons I’m still coming to grips with, I kicked my own ass into oncoming traffic. Immobilized by fear, self-doubt, insecurities, lack of self-worth, the list goes on and on, I stood there looking back at where I’d been and then ahead of where I needed to go.

Where I’d been standing seemed safe, but ultimately it was a place of constructed roadblocks that I’d set up for myself. A false sense of security to make me believe my quirks and short comings would be better off living within the box I’d put them in. I wasn’t living a safe life, I was starving my creative side. A side I’d always treasured about myself, but for some reason was allowing to die.

When I turned and looked out at the new road ahead of me, sure it seemed scary, well, I won’t lie, it was scary. I knew I would face rejection. I also knew I would face criticism. In this industry it would be strange not to. But, I wasn’t going to let my own insecurities keep me from enjoying the journey. Not this time. I was going to focus on just being a writer. Sure, earning the title of published author would be rich buttercream frosting on a slice of decadent cake, but for now I will focus on enjoying this journey to the fullest.

Until next time, keep reading, keep writing, and good fortune.

-Kay Daniels

This and That


The very idea of change, I’m certain, causes a physical reaction in my body that will eventually cause more harm to me than if I’d just rolled with the punches and accepted the initial change in the first place, whatever that change may be.

What is it about getting comfortable in a job, a relationship, a home, a body size even that we allow ourselves to become blindly numb to the surroundings in our lives? We subconsciously tell our brain, “Hey no worries from this point on. You are right as rain. Good as gold. You are set.” How are we able to deceive ourselves into thinking we never have to change ever again?

My answer: Strong-willed, blind, euphoric stupidity. I’m chalk full of it.

Our entire lives, from the moment we popped out of the womb, was all about change. We went from breathing fluid to breathing air. One moment attached to an umbilical cord, all snug and warm and the next starved, cold, and naked wondering what strange planet we’d landed on. Unfortunately we spend the rest of our lives trying to answer that very question, but the first 20 or so outgrowing everything ever purchased for us. Our emotions are never in check and our bodies never do what we need them to do when we want them to do them. So this brings me back to the question of at what point did our brains deceive us into thinking we’d never face change ever again? When did it switch off the “Nope, we’re all good here, stop worrying” switch? Because I hate to tell the operator of that switch, but life is all about change. He or she should be fired.

I look in the mirror everyday and grimace at the changes I see, yet I still go on like it’s no big deal. However, when I’m presented with a huge, life altering change, like is it time to put away the winter gear because I hear the first birds of spring, but it still may snow again next week, I want to break out into hives. Okay, maybe that isn’t so life altering, but fashion or more like facing a day of sitting cold and shivering while at work causes me great concern. I warned you I’m full of blind stupidity.

So why do I sweat, get a tad nauseous and eventually freak out to the point I end up with a migraine when I have to deal with change? That is an excellent question. I believe further reflection is due.

I’ve noticed that some people revel in change. They love the chaos that change can bring in its wake. They are the idea makers. The ones to initiate change most times. They come up with an idea then hand over that idea for initiation and expect it to happen. I like to picture them as the rich Romans sitting in the Colosseum watching the slaves and gladiators as they battled. Without their meddling and handling of slaves, the games never would have took place. They also loved to watch the chaos unfold before them.

Next you have the people who take the plans and have to put them into action. I refer to them as the minions behind the curtain. They make sure the show runs smooth and get the job done. Without their tireless efforts plans wouldn’t come to fruition. Minions are typically overworked, underpaid and super tired.

Lastly you have the complainers. The bitchers, the whiners, the people we all wonder how the hell they got the job in the first place and pray when the tiger comes shooting up from underground that he gets taken out first. Yes, we all have them in our workplace and how they got there is a huge mystery.

And do you know what?

All of these people; the idea maker, the minion, and the complainer live inside you.


Yes, we all have our moments where we shine and when we don’t. We all have our moments when change hits us hard. We all have our moments when we inspire change and we all have our moments when we bitch and bitch and bitch and no one wants to deal with us.

Something else I’ve discovered is when I’m feeling at my worst is when the prospect of change is completely overwhelming. It’s because sometimes those 3 people are battling inside of me.

The idea of change hits so hard that the idea maker cannot take charge and then the bitching starts and the minion just wants to just tackle the job and start digging in and that’s about the time I want to vomit.

Think about any major change in your life and how your stomach rolled anytime you’ve been faced with a major decision. Was there something holding you back?

This year of 2016 I’ve taken a hard look at a lot of my personal goals. I’ve rolled up my sleeves and had to fight back a lot of sickening, rolling, nauseous stomachaches. Every day is a new battle tackling my demons. Staring them down and trying to take charge. I’m working hard at becoming less blindly stupid to the world around me, but I’m strong-willed so baby steps….baby steps.

Hopefully you won’t be so strong willed and you are able to ask yourself what is holding you back. Are you willing to live your life and face the never ending change?

Until next time, keep reading, keep writing, and good fortune.

-Kay Daniels