Category Archives: Health

The Age of Anxiety

I’m borrowing Auden’s title for his book-length poem that won the Pulitzer in 1948 because contemporary life is even more anxiety-provoking than in the 20th century. Maybe it’s because I’m living in the now, but it seems to me that all our technology has brought waves of anxiety into the lives of . . . well, of most of us.

In my own family most members deal with anxiety issues and some of us–myself included–have social anxiety. I do not take medication for mine, but if I had to go to a worksite every day these days, maybe I would have to do so.

Because of my childhood, I suffered from anxiety early on, but once I was an adult and not living with my family of origin, my anxiety became significantly better. Until the advent of the computer, the cell phone, and the impersonal communication (aided by tech) of every business and medical provider I interact with, that is. Now it’s back as it was when I was a child living in my parents’ home. No, it’s worse.

The American Psychological Association, on its website, describes anxiety this way: “An emotion characterized by apprehension and somatic symptoms of tension in which an individual anticipates impending danger, catastrophe, or misfortune.” Somatic. That means tension manifests itself physically. Frequently with anxiety we dread the known or the unknown.

When I wrote my memoir Scrap: Salvaging a Family I struggled to find ways to describe the feelings of anxiety I remembered in my memories. The descriptions crop up over and over again, often related to my stomach.  My stomach surged, suffered a giant crab crawing aboard, a thundercloud, a hard rock, a gathering wave, was hooked by claws. “Dread began to fill me, coursing its way through my body” (129). Terror, fear, and anger are all directly associated with the stomach in Scrap.

I have anxiety over AI. Many people say it won’t be so bad and in fact is positive. They use the initial fear over every new invention as proof. But AI is different. It has the ability to affect absolutely everything we know, especially facts and ethics.

But it’s hard to live with anxiety pulsing through my limbs every day. So what do I do? I am riding the stationary bike every day, napping, and reading more. The gardener and I plan vacations. I push myself to see friends on a one-to-one basis. And I make sure we set up family time quite often. A dose of my sweet grandson Hudson is a perfect tonic. When I am with him, anxiety slinks out the door.

What do you do for your anxiety?

 

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Filed under Health, SCRAP: SALVAGING A FAMILY, Writing

Grumpy Poems

I am grateful to the Eunoia Review for publishing two of my poems. One of them is quite grumpy but tangential to Scrap. That is “Goulash.” The other one, “Loss, The Word,” is even grumpier. It’s just plain grumpy as all get out.

GOULASH

LOSS, THE WORD

Feel free to share this post on your social media if you relate to one of these poems.

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Eden Robins: Isn’t it Time to Own Your Own Life?

Today I am handing over the keys to this blog to my dear IRL friend romance novelist Eden Robins who is sharing a guest post about something close to her heart. Feel free to share this blog post with anyone you think might want to own their own life!

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 Own Your Own Life

Every person gets to ask themselves this:
“Who am I, who do I want to be, and how do I choose to be in this moment?”

Own your own life.

That’s an underlying theme in the novels I write and it’s my mission in guiding others as a life coach.

I’ve been asked a number of times what I mean by the phrase, “own your own life”. My answer is what you might expect. It means you get to decide the kind of life you live today, tomorrow and for the rest of your days.

Okay, so now I’ve answered the question.

We’re done here, right?

Doesn’t everyone own their own life? After all, they’re the ones living it. Who else would own your life but you?

The answer may seem simple but, as I’ve learned over several decades on this earth, simple does not always mean easy.

Nevertheless, it’s important to understand exactly who’s running your life.

Why?

If who you believe you are is based on how others see you, or how you imagine they’re seeing you, then you’re not running your own life. You’re running on the hamster wheel of other people’s expectations, or your perception that they have those expectations.

Owning your own life starts with understanding who you are and what’s most important to you (aka your values). As a life coach, I help empower people to fully discover and embrace themselves and their values so they can take charge of and live their own best life. This empowerment can lead to a better job, healthier and happier relationships, an improved quality of life, smoother transitions and more confidence, courage, consistency and clarity in pursuing dreams and goals.

Life coaching isn’t about telling people what to do. Rather, it’s about guiding them to an understanding of what they already sense about themselves but haven’t fully settled into yet.

Sometimes, settling into the truth can be the hardest obstacle to overcome.

I know that because I’ve experienced it myself.

Well into my fifties, I decided to become a life coach. Yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to say, “I’m a life coach”. I’d use terms like “mentor”, “sponsor” or “guide”.

“Life coach” felt too expansive, too formal and way beyond how I saw myself. I was unable to reconcile who a life coach was with who I was. I was convinced I didn’t have what it took to do the job.

Even after I received my life coaching certification, those old, overused “you’re not enough” recordings played repeatedly in my head…

All that volunteer work didn’t make me a life coach. So what if I received a certification in life coaching? That didn’t mean anything. So what if I had over a decade of experience? That didn’t count because I hadn’t charged money for my services. You’re too old. It’s too late.

The negative chatter droned on incessantly for over two years after I received my certification. I realize now that this time in between was valuable because my beliefs began shifting and sharpening as my idea of what it meant to be a coach evolved and became clearer.

I hired other coaches to work with me. I also studied coaching by taking classes, attending workshops, and researching others in my field. All the while, I continued my volunteer coaching. I grasp now that I was progressing during that time because I had made the choice to be curious and stay open to change even when mired in self-doubt.

In other words, I decided to dig into and face the truth about myself in a way that eventually led to an important question.

What if I AM enough?

That simple, quiet question grew louder and louder in my mind until I could no longer ignore it and decided to answer it by asking another question.

What does it mean to be a life coach?

That question changed everything for a few reasons.

First, it cracked open my resistance to accepting the truth about myself, which became just enough of an opening to let my curiosity bloom. Second, I realized that those two years following my certification provided me with the opportunity to explore and learn the answer. And third, timing played a big part. I believe that if I hadn’t spent those years learning, staying curious, and questioning if, perhaps, I was enough, I might still be sitting on the fence rather than taking action.

My curiosity helped me know in my gut the answer to the question, “What does it mean to be a life coach?”

My answer was a knowing deep in my gut that declared, “I hold everything I need to be a life coach inside of me right now.”

That shift from resistance to curiosity led me to a new awareness of myself and helped me become ready to face the truth of who I was.

Every person gets to ask themselves this: “Who am I, who do I want to be, and how do I choose to be in this moment?”

Owning your own life is ultimately about realizing that you have power over the life you live because you get to choose who and how you want to be every second of living it. That power is always there, no matter your age, the people around you, or what’s happening in your world.

I’d like to leave you with this truth-filled reminder by the extraordinarily talented author, Alice Walker:
“The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any.”

Through my novels and my coaching, my goal has been to remind you of this simple, but powerful truth. You do and always have had the choice to own your own life. And don’t worry. If you aren’t sure how to walk that path of self-awareness and empowerment, I’ve got your back.

I once lived a disempowered life, and I know without a doubt that I can help you, as I’ve helped others, rediscover the confidence, courage, clarity, and power you’ve had inside you all along.

Isn’t it time to own your own life?

Eden Robins is a certified life coach, best-selling author, and owner of her own life. When not writing edge of your seat adventures, Eden helps people take charge of their life by taking charge of their own thoughts. Want the latest tips and tools for creating a life you love? Sign up for Eden’s Own Your Own Life newsletter here.

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Still Reeling from Last Week

Last week was a tough one, not because anything bad happened. It was just a lot for me physically and even mentally.

We celebrated Mother’s Day a week late at my son and DIL’s house. Son and SIL made fish tacos and daughter made guacamole and gluten free raspberry almond cake. But all day I felt a bit off, as if I was going to get a vestibular migraine attack. In case you are coming late to this VM stuff, it’s not a headache–I used to get regular migraine headaches until they morphed into the annihilator weapon of migraines. They are all kinds of awful, and while it’s going on I am lying there covering my vision and hearing with pillows, sweating up a storm, and wishing I were dead. And vomiting. In total, there are about twenty symptoms.

But I didn’t get one that day or the next. I got it on Tuesday and wasted the whole day doing the above (pillows, sweat, symptoms, etc.). Then my daughter brought her two kitties over for me to babysit while she and hubby went to Hawaii (something wrong with this situation).

Wednesday my grandson got out of school for the summer. His camp doesn’t start until today, so guess who had him all the while I was still shaky and walking around in migraine glasses, not thinking clearly.

However, we had FUN.

On Friday, Hudson was in one of those two-year-old moods where he wanted his stuffie and binky more than just naptime. In this photo, I asked him to take out the binky for one second to have his picture taken. This is the shot he gave me.

We took him to Dairy Queen, and I told him ahead of time he had to leave the binky at home but he could take his stuffie friend. When I said it was time to go to the car he carefully tucked both items in “his” drawer and pointed out to me that he was leaving the stuffie, TOO. He was so proud of himself.

IF YOU WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT SCRAP: SALVAGING A FAMILY

Below is an update of the book tour for Scrap: Salvaging a Family. I am sharing a quote from each blog post in the hopes that as a whole they give a good idea of what it’s like to read the book and what you would find inside the front and back cover. Here are the links with a quote from each:

Tour Schedule for Scrap: Salvaging a Family (memoir in flash):

March 21: Joy Neal Kidney (review)

[T]he father of the author, an unpredictable, frightening, and sometimes violent man who often took out his rage on Luanne, his only daughter. What a complicated childhood, one without answers . . . . [The] answers finally seeped out later in life, with both father and daughter attempting to make sense of the complicated scraps of their shared past. The author bravely gives glimpses of early years, therapy years, and later years with candor and compassion, and amazing resilience.

March 23: Liz Gauffreau, (review)

The memoir has been structured with intention and a high level of craft in its component parts.The three sections of Scrap follow the narrative arc of a three-act play: “Early Years” as set-up, “Therapy” as confrontation, and “Later Years” as resolution. Similarly, the mode of expression for each section is well-aligned with its content: flash for “Early Years,” interrogative dialog for “Therapy,” and narrative prose for “Years Later.” There are also poems to provide even more emotional depth in key places. Some of the flash pieces are “imaginings,” when Castle puts herself in Rudy’s and her beloved grandmother’s place as another step on the path to insight and understanding.

March 24: Marie Ann Bailey, (review)

Early on in Scrap, we are introduced to Rudy’s “wolf teeth” and “wolf mask.” Later, we are horrified by bouts of his physical and emotional violence. And yet there are moments of tenderness, of love. And moments of Rudy’s pain and suffering that Luanne excavates for us. Luanne gives voice to her father’s own difficult childhood, his concerns for the starving children he came across while serving in Korea, his relationship with his grandchildren. Rudy is a complicated man but isn’t every man complicated? Isn’t every woman complicated? And don’t they become less complicated the more we understand them?

March 25: John W. Howell, (excerpt–below is the first section of the excerpt)

Daddy moves his workbench to the garage by hoisting the heavy counter up the stairs on a dolly. He lets me carry a leg, but when I stumble, he says I should just watch. He removes all the tools, the scrap wood, even the army sleeping bags from the basement. The space heater in the garage makes the new workshop too dangerous for me. The elves abandon us. Daddy drives home a truckload of cement blocks and carries each brick down the stairs by himself. Each brick holds a secret that I can’t share with anyone. He stacks the blocks in a quadrant-shaped domino pattern, building walls two bricks deep. Without mortar, the bricks resemble my wooden blocks. Rosemary Clooney croons for us to come to her house.

March 30: Miriam Hurdle, (companion story by Luanne–below is first paragraph)

Dad held the blanketed bundle in his arms as if it were a baby. When he unwrapped the violin, I murmured in anticipation, reaching out to stroke the reddish-brown wood. Dad urged me to be careful but nodded at my eagerness. He asked if I knew what it was.

March 31: Review Tales (review)

One of the memoir’s greatest strengths is its refusal to simplify reconciliation. Forgiveness here is not sentimental. It is gradual, complicated, and earned through insight. As the daughter learns about her father’s early life and hidden history, empathy emerges—not as weakness, but as strength. The book becomes a meditation on how knowledge reshapes memory and how understanding can soften even deeply embedded wounds.

April 2: the bookworm (review)

This was my first time reading a memoir written entirely in poetry (sic) and I was fascinated by it. Luanne Castle shares her life from childhood through present. Highlighted is her relationship with her family, her mother, her brother and in particular her father. As I read I thought how brave she is for putting these personal experiences on the page. Her poetry is beautiful and moving and I found several favorite lines.

April 9: Ashley’s Books, Cozy Home Delight (review)

It is fascinating to see how a person grows into themselves when they did not come from a perfect or even safe environment. She shows that it is possible to come from something painful and still become someone whole. That part stayed with me just as much as the harder moments did.

April 13: What’s That Book About (guest post by Luanne)

In the version of Little Red that I concocted in my head, the wolf hid inside of my father and only showed himself when my father became red-faced and angry. That’s when his big wolf teeth would pop out: “the wolf teeth inside him are shifty and unpredictable” (p. 12). When that happened, Little Red needed to look out! That I was Little Red was obvious to me as I felt small and innocent and helpless.

April 15: Tabi Thoughts(review)

Scrap is also beautifully honest and vulnerable, especially considering it addresses topics that are difficult to write about. As someone who also wants to one day write about difficult, confusing, challenging yet transformative memories, I really appreciate Luanne’s ability to share her story so openly while also exploring multiple perspectives. Luanne’s writing felt intimate, almost like reading journal entries or flipping through a scrapbook of memories which gives it a raw and reflective tone. What stood out most to me was her relationship with her father. It was powerful reading about how she navigated the pain of his shortcomings while acknowledging his own pain and how his childhood shaped him as a parent.

April 23: Lavender Orchids (review)

What stayed with me most was how the form mirrors the content. The fragments feel intentional, like the only honest way to tell this story. Childhood here isn’t softened or romanticised. It’s confusing, sometimes tender, often unsettling. The writing doesn’t over-explain, and that restraint works in its favour. You’re not told how to feel, but you feel it anyway.

April 27: The Reading Bud (review)

Scrap: Salvaging a Family by Luanne Castle is a fragmented, lyrical, and emotionally precise memoir that sifts through family memory, inherited shame, childhood fear, and the difficult work of understanding a parent without excusing the harm they caused. Written as a “memoir in flash,” the book is built out of short, vivid pieces, named as scraps of childhood, domestic scenes, remembered violence, questions, photographs, family stories, documents, and imagined reconstructions, all stitched together into something devastating and incredibly artful.

May 4: Chelsea’s Books (review)

Castle’s writing is beautiful. I love the “memoir in flash” style, each vignette is tight and succinct without an unnecessary word and yet they are so profound. I was really taken with her ability.

May 4: Smorgasbord (excerpt–below is the first paragraph of the excerpt)

In the spring, we run like besieged villagers from the DDT planes following us down the street, our parents’ warnings sirening in our heads, the nose-tingling smell of gasoline pelting our hair and our jackets. Come summer, the onslaught is more insidious as plumes chugged out by the smokestacks at the pill factory coat the sky, masking the stink of the city dump behind the houses on our side of the street.

May 6: Brotman Blog (review)

Have you ever picked up a book, not knowing what to expect, and become so wrapped up in the story and the writing that you just don’t want to put it down? That was my experience  reading Luanne Castle’s newest book Scrap: Salvaging a Family. From the first page until I finished it, I was spellbound.

May 7: The Reading Bud (interview with Luanne)

 I do love taking workshops. My husband jokingly calls me a “professional student.” The constraints involved with writing to prompts assigned by someone else stimulate my imagination and keep me focused so that I don’t have too many decisions to make. The routine is to sit in front of the computer and start writing when I can find at least a half hour. Kitchen or office, it doesn’t matter, although the kitchen is easier because I can keep an eye on what else needs doing. I’ve never really had long periods of solitude to write. Maybe that’s why I tend to write poetry and flash.

May 14: True Book Addict (guest post by Luanne)

Ten years into wrestling with Scrap, I started to write flash fiction. Flash fiction isn’t a shorter than usual short story, but its own genre. Flash fiction has as much in common with poetry as it does with short stories. After I felt comfortable with flash, I realized that flash nonfiction made more sense than chapters to me as a vehicle for my memories. And once I opened my mind to flash for memoir, I realized that a hybrid or combination of genres could also be useful. For instance, much of the reflection in Scrap is told through mini “essays” where I directly discuss certain memories and revelations.

May 15: Storyteller Poetry Review (review and excerpts)

Fellow Arizonian, Luanne Castle is a masterful storyteller so it was no surprise to me when I couldn’t put down her unique well written memoir, “Scrap: Salvaging a Family,” until I had read it from cover to cover.  With powerful and poignant poems and flash fiction she tells the story of her chaotic childhood in description and dialogue so vivid it was like watching a movie.

May 19: True Book Addict (review)

What can I say about such a wonderful and poignant memoir, and so uniquely told through flash non-fiction? I do not read many memoirs. I would read more if they were written like this one. If I ever write one, you can be sure that I will approach in a similar way.

May 20: Merril D. Smith (review)

I read it through in one afternoon. I couldn’t stop; I was so caught up in the story! The book begins with the revelation that her father was a bastard. Castle explains the several meanings of the word, and how in the time and place in which her father grew up, it was a stigma that left him shamed and angry. To me, it seems that secrecy more than illegitimacy produced generations of suffering. Castle’s father’s father was a well-respected doctor who not only had this secret family, but who also doctored his own past.

May 21: The Book Connection (review)

Wow! This memoir doesn’t tug at the heartstrings. It plucks them hard and snaps a few. Scrap: Salvaging A Family is deep, it’s emotional, it cracks open family secrets, and it explores family hardships that impact generations. Masterfully written, readers follow one woman’s examination of her childhood trauma brought on by events that occurred well before she was born.

May 26: Author Anthony Avina (review)

May 28: Author Anthony Avina (guest post)

There are also a few beautiful reviews on Goodreads and Amazon that are not part of the blog tour. I use the term “blog tour” loosely meaning if it appeared on a blog or by a bookstagrammer, then it’s part of the tour.

BUT LET ME ASSURE YOU SCRAP NEEDS MORE REVIEWS ON AMAZON AND GOODREADS AND IF THEY EVER FIX MY DISTRIBUTION CONNECTION ON BOOKBUB, TOO.

EBOOK AND PAPERBACK AVAILABLE HERE

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Botox the Hard Way

I was Botoxed! In a way . . . since I had BOTULISM POISONING!

Originally, the gardener and I were invited to a Halloween party for this past weekend but had to turn it down because we planned to be out of town. It turned out that we couldn’t go away because I’ve been having a lot of trouble with a very painful leg (a whole ‘nother story) and had a bad cold.

Maybe if I’d been out of town I wouldn’t have gotten Botoxed.

Have you noticed how lots of food, especially chicken, fish, and meat, come packaged in vacuum seal these days? I don’t remember when it all changed, but I know it hasn’t been too many years.

I must have been absent the day the memo went out about this new type of packaging for fish—which is a totally different story from other foods. Did you know that when you buy seafood products in vacuum seal packaging you have to take them out of the package to thaw in the refrigerator? When I thaw salmon fillets, I usually do it because the instructions tell me to. But I never really thought about the WHY of it.

I bought salmon patties at a store I don’t usually shop at, and although I read the directions for cooking, I didn’t notice anything about thawing. So, I threw the package from freezer into refrigerator to thaw.

Apparently (and I only play a scientist in my writing sometimes) without oxygen Clostridium botulinum type E grows rapidly on seafood.

There were two patties, and because the gardener was eating burgers instead, I had 1 ½ patties (no buns) and gave him ½ a salmon patty. I ate three times what he did, therefore. And he weighs about 40 pounds more than I do.

I was terribly sick all night. The whole next day I slept and occasionally woke up to stay hydrated. That was Saturday. I still don’t feel great, although I’m no longer sick-sick. I realize that, as bad as I felt, this was a mild case because botulism can be fatal or cause paralysis. On a side note, the gardener did end up getting part of the illness a bit belatedly and although obviously food poisoning, he wasn’t nearly as sick as I was.

At first, I felt stupid after I realized what I had done. But after talking to some people, WOW. None of them knew that you must take seafood out of the vacuum seal packaging to thaw!!!!!!!!!! Many of them either cook frozen fish or thaw it under water. I’m not advocating either of those cooking methods, but at least they didn’t let bacteria grow for hours and hours.

Bottom line: always take seafood out of vacuum seal packaging before thawing!!!! And let others know!!!!!

On a related note, when I called the store to talk to the lady about the salmon patties before I really had what happened locked down, she let me know there is a huge listeria recall right now on a wide range of brands, stores, and products—generally frozen foods that have chicken in them. I called my regular supermarket, and this is their stupid comment:

The minute we get word of a recall we pull all the products from our shelves. And when you go to ring up your groceries if something has been recalled it will show up as recalled on your receipt and on the screen.

HELP!!! I am finding it too hard to live among such illogical people. If they pull the food, how can I be paying for it?!

Also, the store knows every detail of everything I’ve ever purchased there, but they can’t EMAIL me? Good grief.

I know Food Safety has a very boring sound to it, but my goodness it’s as important as Road Safety and Workplace Safety.

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On the subject of illness (sorry), a nonfiction flash story I wrote about migraines was published by Libre, thanks to EIC Mary B. It’s a little brutal. My Avatar Lives My Life 

If you have ever had migraines or know somebody who does, you might find some similarities.

The one thing that makes me feel better no matter what is going on: my kitties. Here’s Sloopy Anne!

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Filed under #writingcommunity, Flash Nonfiction, Health, Literary Journals, Nonfiction, Writing

Arizona Blue Sky

Yesterday when I started on my walk, before I even left my driveway, I encountered several critters. First, a very light green plump lizard with smooth skin ran into the bougainvillea. I can’t find him on Google, so I don’t know what kind he is. Then a male and a female quail ran across the drive down into the wash. At the end of the driveway, on the little pony wall, a mourning dove took off in flight.

It could be the mother who has a nest in the hanging pot outside my house. My son took this pic of one of the babies with the mother.

Here’s a pic on my walk of a cactus in bloom and the brilliant blue sky above. This is the color of our Arizona sky. I still can’t get over it, and I’ve been here seventeen years now!

It’s getting warm here, but if I walk early enough it’s not yet a problem. That may change in a month or two. But I have another issue. At least six months ago I started getting a painful leg. it was weird because last year my other leg was so bad that for two months I couldn’t walk at all. Now the symptoms are somewhat different, but getting worse. My entire lower left quadrant, so to speak, is very painful and sometimes can be a NINE in pain. Most of the time it fluctuates between 2 and 7. I saw a pain doctor, who diagnosed me with a pinched nerve, so I will get a back MRI. In the meantime she wants me to start PT and take Gabapentin on top of my Extra Strength Tylenol. I’ll hold off on the Gabapentin as long as I can because I can’t afford to add more dizziness (a side effect) to my Vestibular Migraines. (Gabapentin brings up sad memories of my dear Pear Blossom’s cancer before she passed away several years ago).

Because the worst of the pain is while lying down and walking, the pain doesn’t prevent me from taking care of my cutie pie grandson while his parents are at work. He turned three months on Friday and has been stacking up a big list of “firsts.” First time he rolled over onto his stomach himself. First time he reached for me to pick him up. First time he started trying to form sounds with his mouth. First time he held a stuffed toy and rubbed the fur on his skin. Yes, I’m obsessed.

Yesterday I did a little art because I hadn’t in months and wanted to do something creative with my hands. I feel bad because I have cute fabric for a book cover to make a junk journal for the baby’s parents, but taking care of him has made that impossible at this point.

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Filed under #writingcommunity, Arizona, Flora, Garden, and Landscape, Grandparenting, Health, Writing