Ideas for blog posts tend to come out of nowhere. Emphasis on nowhere. After forgetting countless ideas, I finally have a system to record the initial idea before they disappear. It’s nothing fancy, but it works for me.
Ready? Here we goooo…
2. Post-it Notes
– I literally have these in every room of my apartment and I also have them in my car. Gotta be ready when the ideas hit, then I can just stick them to whatever is nearby and come back to it later. Now that it’s back to school season, I can stockpile these things for little to no money spent.
– When I don’t have access to Evernote or Post-it Notes, I use repetition. I repeat key aspects of the blog idea until I’m able to jot down the idea. This isn’t the most reliable part of the system, but it works.
This is my system. Again, nothing fancy. I’m always looking for more tools to add to my system. The woes of being a blogger, always on the hunt for something better, haha!
While working on a potential post for today, I kept singing Michael Jackson’s “Remember The Time”. I’ve said in a previous post how inspiration tends to appear in the strangest of places. Today is no different. While singing, I thought about the last time I was in love. The song is a reminder of good memories and I wanted to share it with you.
Do you remember the last time you were in love?
I am forever grateful to have been in grade school at a time where teachers taught students life skills versus curriculum based on standardized tests. My favorite grades in school were second and fifth. I can recall two lessons that have a profound effect on me as an adult.
In second grade (circa 1989), my teacher spoke about common sense. I can’t remember her entire speech about common sense, but there were two sentences that stuck with me. Common sense cannot be taught. You either have it or you don’t.
As an adult, I never realized how many folks have no common sense. All the book sense in the world, but couldn’t chew gum and walk to save their lives. Baffles the hell outta me.
In fifth grade (circa 1992), my teacher taught my class how to complete IRS form 1040EZ. For someone who hates math, this was a fun math lesson. I learned the importance of independence. My teacher explained that if you don’t learn how to do your own taxes, how will you know that someone else would do them correctly for you? Makes sense right? I refuse to pay someone to do something I can do myself.
I’m so appreciative to all the educators who taught me life lessons that have carried into adulthood. Now that I’ve finished this post, I’m going to finish unclogging the dishwasher.
See ya tomorrow,
Memories are mental snapshots. Regardless, of how good or bad the memories are, you cherish them.
Good memories make me smile and/or laugh upon recollection. The memories I shared with those who have passed on are really special to me. Those memories are all I have to remember them by.
For me, bad memories are a reminder of what not to do again. Some of which make me shudder upon recollection. Yeah, it’s that bad. While painful, the lessons I learned were valuable. If I stepped in shit once, why the hell would I willingly step in shit again?
Memories can either work for you or they can hold you hostage. The decision is yours to make.
As a child, I loved to sit among my elders and listen to there conversations. Storytelling was definitely their thing. Their stories were so vivid, I could close my eyes and see the stories play out. At the time, I wasn’t aware as to the nuggets of wisdom nestled in those stories.
When I adulthood, I gained an understanding for those stories. My elders were great judges of character. Always telling me to take people at face value, not for what they could become. Oh, and to never change yourself to fit someone else’s mold. Sounds like common sense right?
You and I both know that common sense ain’t common. Too many people will never learn these lessons.
Elders, I miss you all terribly. Thank you for the memories that I now understand.
There are some memories I don’t ever want to recall again. On the other hand, if I erase those memories, I would also erase the event/person/situation that the memory is based on. Taking it a step further, erasing that event/person/situation would also erase the valuable lesson that I learned as a result.
If the opportunity provides itself to completely erase something from my memory, I would politely decline. The big picture is far more important to me.