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Most recently published stories in Motivation.
Make the most of life
I have been in health care since I was 16 years old. I started off as a carer for the elderly then trained to be a nurse. My first post was on ward 13 at the Victoria Hospital the main acute hospital for Fife. The ward was the Medical Assessment unit for the elderly, it was basically like an intensive care unit. I have always worked with the elderly I enjoyed caring for them and listening to their stories of old times, the war and their journey through life. One thing that has entered my head though is that the most common theme the elderly talk about when they are nearing end of life is regret. I have lost count how many times I have heard tears of sorrow because of regrets that people hold onto. Hear me when I say this because it is important, regret will eat away at you and it will affect you when you are older so don't waste time, go out and do everything you have always wanted to because I have found a lot of poeple pondering over their regrets and it sad to see. The look in their eyes say it all hence why I made the decision to make a bucket list so I don't have any regrets when I am older. Everyone will have regrets that is life but the nature of those regrets will change it is the big things for example not leaving an abusive relationship, not making amends with people, not visiting that country you always wanted to anything you feel you may regret eliminate it. I want my older years to be as stress free as possible and that is why I am eliminating anything that may cause me regret. Watching these older patients open up about their regrets especially when it is a common theme amongst all has taught me a valuable lesson in life and one that I try pass onto other people, but only because I know first hand what regret actually does to people when they are reaching that point in their life. Regret seems to consume people with negative consequences, depression, anxiety and guilt are all included with the feeling of regret especially if it ws something they really wanted to do or say but didn't get the chance to. This is my worst fear to be honest, I do not want to be in my nursing home thinking about all the things I should have said or should have done, I want to be in my nursing home feeling content and die content. So please everyone it's your life go out and live your life to the full, do all the things you want to do, make up with people even if you don't want to as that can possibly be a regret when you are older. When people reach that point its like something hits them and they just know they will never have a chance again to do the things they wanted to. Then the depression comes and it can spiral out of control that is why eliminating regret as much as possible will give you a more settled life when that time comes for you. Believe in yourself and go live life to the full, remember no regrest equals contentment, I know first hand I have seen what regret does to hundreds upon hundreds of people maybe thousands. No one wants to get to that point and start to reflect on life and feel bad about it you want to feel blessed that you had the opportunity to experience life. Life is a gift that is why it is called the present, look after yourself and live life to the fullest. Peace!
By Michelle King6 years ago in Motivation
What I Learned From 12 Years of Journalling
Many of us received a notebook of some kind as a gift when we were young and decided to start journaling. In my case, it all started when a little 9-year-old me got a journal for her birthday and decided to write about how she was feeling. From that moment on, I was hooked on the idea of writing in my small blue notebook every day, and so I started journaling.
By Lara Hayes6 years ago in Motivation
This Is My Page!
THIS IS MY PAGE … “Is that the last of it?” said Alexandria. “No, there is still one strange box I have never seen before,” replied Ambroysia. Ambroysia fixated on the box with curiosity and bewilderment. The box was black as the darkest of nights that Ambroysia had ever seen in her life. As she stared at the box, she could feel the box pulsating along with her heartbeat in her chest. For a split second, she had stopped breathing as she stared fixated on the box.
By George Shannon Ferguson6 years ago in Motivation
Imposter
I flipped it open again, running my fingers across the paper. Most of the pages were well-worn at this point, considering I bought the beautiful black book years ago. It always brought me comfort to turn the pages restlessly or stroke the soft cover when I was feeling stressed or down, or I guess even happy. I sighed to myself and put it back into my drawer, my eyes wandering across my computer screen.
By Taryn H6 years ago in Motivation
The Little Black Book
I poured myself fresh coffee and gazed out of my second story window at the park across the street. Usually by this time of the morning the park would be full. Since the pandemic, there were fewer people out and about. I jumped at a knock on my door. I opened it to find Oscar, my neighbor from across the hall. He was holding Monte, his small scruffy rescue dog. “Sorry to bother you so early, Lis,” he said, “but something came up and I need to leave town. I can’t take Monte where I’m going so I wondered if you could keep him.”“Of course,” I said. Oscar was the best kind of neighbor to have. I’d been invited to a number of his gourmet dinner parties and was amazed he wasn’t a chef instead of a travel writer. His small circle of artistic friends inspired my own secret love of writing. He was kind and dependable. Besides, I’d fallen in love with Monte and who could say no to two sets of soulful brown eyes? “I could be gone a couple of weeks,” he said, raising his bushy gray eyebrows. I didn’t flinch. “That’s fine.” Monte was a house guest previously, and I always enjoyed him. Having company while social distancing would be a blessing. Oscar flashed contagious smile as he handed me Monte. I was met with lots of wet kisses that made me laugh. Oscar went back to his apartment and returned with a hefty bag of dog food and a canvas book bag brimming with dog toys and set them inside my door. “Goodbye buddy,” he whispered affectionately to Monte. “You’re in good hands.” We watched him walk slowly down the hall in an oversized blue jacket and jeans. He paused briefly to turn and wave goodbye. I wondered what secret location he was off to now. Would I be reading a magazine article about some exotic resort or a small remote fishing village? If he couldn’t bring Monte, it had to be somewhere dangerous. We ducked back into my apartment. “Best you’re here with me,” I said while filling his water and food dishes. “I would hate to hear a Python swallowed you!” I checked my phone and had five email notifications, all bills. My small gift and book shop was temporarily closed. I was depending on my modest savings which would be depleted soon. As I stressed, Monte pulled the canvas bag across the floor and dropped it at my feet. In spite of my gloom, I had to laugh. I sat down and tipped the bag over. A bone, a fleece blanket, squeaky toys, a Kong and small jar of peanut butter tumbled out. “We may need to share this,” I quipped holding up the jar. But Monte wasn’t interested. He searched through the pile and grabbed a small black notebook between his teeth and held it up to me. “It’s a good thing it’s sturdy!” I told him. It looked a lot like the notebooks Oscar pulled out of his pocket and used to jot things down. I suspected he used it as a record for Monte’s visits to the Vet, his routine, allergies, or appointments. To my surprise I found an intricate collection of drawings, mazes, short anecdotes, descriptions and lists of words and places. Every page was filled. I recognized Monte, identified as M, in numerous sketches with musings about fire hydrants and the quality of dog biscuits on the moon from Monte himself. I was drawn into a magical tale of a little dog’s fantastical adventures through space and time. The notebook was small, but it was like opening another universe. I couldn’t imagine Oscar intended to leave it behind. I was reluctant to put it down, but two hours had gone by and I needed to work on my business plan. That night the magical stories throughout the little black book wove through my dreams. Monte and I met a dazzling unicorn who flew us across rainbows and up into the Milky Way. Before heading back to Earth, we had cocoa and frosted cupcakes with polite pink mice on the moon who explained the importance of taking exactly 100 steps to anywhere. I woke up with my imagination on fire. Before I even had coffee, I jotted down notes on ways to enhance my webpage with photos of the unique gifts and books in my store. Every day that week I would linger with tales of intrigue conjured up by the illustrations and words in the little black book. My dreams brought them to life and Monte and I were on incredulous journeys to other worlds. I felt like a child again, the world a place of never-ending wonder. Before long I discovered that the golden rule was central to the lives of Monte and Oscar; treat others as you yourself want to be treated, at your best and at your worst. I found myself wanting to be a better person. At the end of the second week, I got an email from Oscar that read "Oscar’s on his way home. This journey will be the most incredible." I didn’t think much of it, after all I'd been reading the little black journal which was all incredible. I turned to Monte and said, “I guess our party’s coming to an end, buddy.” I sent a photo of Monte with a new toy and posted it on my webpage, too. On Monday morning I packed a bottle of water, several dog biscuits and poop bags in preparation for a long walk through the park and down the boulevard. Monte watched me with anticipation. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Ah, I thought, time’s up and realized how much I’d miss my friend and new muse, Monte. I took my time. But it wasn’t Oscar at the door. In front of me stood an elderly woman with the same soulful brown eyes. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Olivia Casey and I’m here on behalf of my brother, Oscar.” Of course, I thought. She resembled him only her features were soft and delicate. Monte recognized her and immediately jumped up on Olivia, barking and wagging his tail. She picked him up and petted his head with a leather gloved hand. “Please come in,” I said as I opened the door wider and ushered her into a seat on the worn couch. “I can have Monte’s things ready in a minute. I got Oscar’s email and I should have things together already…” “Actually, I was the one who sent the email,” she interrupted. “That’s why I’m here.” I sat down next to her, confused. Her face saddened. “Oscar has spent the last two weeks in hospice. He didn't want anyone to know.” “Oh no,” I gasped. “I had no idea.” There was an awkward silence. “Oscar was ill for some time,” she said softly. “Know grateful he was you took Monte in. He wanted him to be where he was loved. He also needed someone to carry on the mission.” “Mission?” I searched my memory for any mention of a mission in the little black book. Near the end was the quote by Richard Bach: “Here is the test to find whether your mission on earth is finished: If you’re alive, it isn’t.” My face betrayed my bewilderment. “I’ll try to explain,” Olivia said. Her eyes fell on the little black book on the coffee table. She laughed as she reached for it. “Oliver carried a notebook like this with him for 30 years. He called them magic makers," she said. Their mission was to become a story about him and Monte, or I should say 'Monsieur Monte and Mike.'” I was stunned. 'Monsieur Monte and Mike' were my favorite books as a child. Once I’d even written a letter to Monte telling him I wanted him to visit my tree house. I was sure if he stayed with me my parents would let us sleep in it. Why hadn’t I figured out the connection? “Oscar was known as Mike when he was a kid,” Olivia continued. “He preferred privacy and avoided public attention, so he used Oscar for writing about travel and O.M. Casey for his children’s books.” I nodded. “Your Monte is actually the third Monte, all equally adventurous and clever.” Monte had been jumping between our laps and finally settled comfortably in mine. My Monte, she had said, her eyes twinkling. “If you liked the rough draft,” she said, “You may enjoy this.” She reached into her handbag and pulled out a children’s book and handed it to me. A colorful collage of stars, unicorns, rainbows, planets and of course Monsieur Monte and Mike graced the cover with the title, 'Across the Universe'. Tears came to my eyes as I leafed through it. Illustrations and words from the little black book were brought to life with brilliant and colorful illustrations. I felt like I was back in my dreams. “I don’t know what to say,” I said, deeply moved. My mind and emotions were reeling. Monte licked my face. We visited for a while and when Olivia got up to leave, she reached into her handbag and handed me a cashier's check for $20,000. I gasped and then protested. “It’s what Oscar wanted, for you and Monte. If you ever need anything, let me know.” “Thank you,” I said. Oscar had already given me so much with the little black book and an amazing friend named Monte. She stood up and headed for the door. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she smiled. “You are welcome to introduce this book on your website. I’ll make sure ample copies are shipped to you. Your copy is the only one he signed." “I’ll always treasure it,” I promised. That night I dug through my closet for the box that held all of my old 'Monsieur Monte and Mike' books. I had saved them all of these years. I was once again exploring Antarctica, Egypt, or the Rocky Mountains, canoeing in Alaska and backpacking in the outback. They took children all around the world. I couldn’t help but wonder what treasures their little black books held.
By Sandra Newbauer6 years ago in Motivation
A Story of Impelled Ambitions
Her sneakers are soft on the wooden floor. She's made this walk a thousand times over, and today feels no different. She avoids the spots of sun that reach from the windows to the floor, not letting her stride penetrate their rays. The walk to the spruce wood door isn’t far, only just down the hall of other doors just like it. She always worries that she'll enter the wrong room, but this has yet to happen. The person on the other side of the door waits patiently, and barely looks up when she presses her fingers tenderly against the surface and pushes the dark planks open. She makes her way over to the blue bean bag chair that sits lonesome in the corner below two windows. She wonders sometimes if she's the only one who sits in it, as it always seems to be in the same position as how she left it. Once seated, each time, her eyes glance around the room for changes. Sometimes it's the plant, its leaves brighter or duller, straighter or droopier. Other times it's the order of the folders on the shelf, one red to the left now on the right, misplaced. Sometimes it's the rug, offset to the table in a new direction, but it's always off set. Perhaps someday it'll be on set. She does this not to be observative, but instead to avoid speaking first. She knows each day she comes is a new opportunity for her to break this habit, but today was not that day. Perhaps next thursday, at 3pm on 457 North Moscarin Ave, second floor, 4th door on the left after the lobby.
By Irah Thurber6 years ago in Motivation
in all honesty
It was well past 3:00 but my thoughts were preventing me from sleeping. They weren’t profound or necessarily important thoughts, but they were constant. I rolled over and grabbed my phone to do something to occupy my mind. I knew no matter what I was going to be tired in the morning so I might as well enjoy my night. I scrolled mindlessly on my social media platforms, barely paying attention to anything I read. My eyelids felt heavy and I began to drift off. My phone began slipping from my grasp, until I saw it, in big bold letters an ad saying
By Gracie Evans 6 years ago in Motivation
The Krongling
I was standing in a corner of a loud nightclub wondering why I had bothered to go out again. Another dark club and another lonely night. I looked in my little black book where I had collected compliments my friends had given me in the past as a way to build my confidence. Yet here I was, unable to strike up a conversation with anyone. I looked down at page three. “You are so cool; you practically define a whole new genre of cool.” My friend had written that down after I posted a photo of me winning a hot dog eating contest. I looked around the room as the band on stage blasted their music, the drums were so loud I could barely think. I don’t think I can handle much more of this. I decided to leave and go home, promising myself I would try some other night in some other club to make friends.
By Camilla Strand6 years ago in Motivation
