Ask 4 Help

Ask for Help

In trouble?  Ask for help.   What could be simpler? 

Nothing, unless you see your request as you becoming a burden, or worse incurring a debt that you will have to repay in the future, probably when you are least able or prepared.

If you have been told that you are a pain, a “bad” person, not worthy of any extra effort, reluctance to ask for help would be understandable.

Once you’ve opened the door to show that you are not fully able to take care of your problems you may find it difficult to limit other’s well-intentioned helpful efforts.

When some of the above noted conditions is part of your baggage then asking for help would be extremely difficult.

The request may come only if you are really desperate. Sometimes even an offer to help may be difficult to accept.

Such factors create a fear in Jill, the protagonist, in the my novel, Baggage burdens. Asking for help is  very hard.

“What makes you think I’m so determined?”

“When you tried to walk across to the bathroom and your legs gave out, you didn’t give up. Like Matthew, you weren’t going to quit until you reached your goal. I figure that couldn’t have been an easy decision for you either. I guessed you were worrying about being able to make the return trip to your bed.”

“You’re right. I was afraid I wouldn’t make it. I hated the possibility that I would have to be carried. I didn’t want to cause any trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“Having people do something extra for me is kind of like doing me favors.”

“Something wrong with accepting favors?”

“Yes. I once read an unreturned favor is like an unpaid debt. With everybody visiting me in the hospital and covering for me while I’m stuck here, it feels like I have a ton of debts. In a way, it’s like I’m running a deficit budget. I’ll never be able to return the favors.”

“Have you thought of favor as being gifts?”

“Same thing.”

Jill’s quick response silences Bill for a while. His eyes narrow, and he looks down as if he’s trying to figure out an answer to a puzzle.

“Hmmm.” 

 “What?” Jill leans forward.

Bill studies her face, determining if she really wants to know what he has in mind. “You love your children dearly. Right?”

“Yes.”

“And you love to do anything for them to make them happy?”

“Yes.”

“I expect that you haven’t been keeping a tally to figure out how much they owe you?”

“Of course not. They’re family.”

“I see,” says Bill, dragging out his response as if he is carefully considering her answer.

“Immediate family?”

“Yes.”

“And what about favors from an extended family? Do you keep tabs on the number of favors or gifts they give you?” Jill’s puzzled look prompts Bill to add, “Would Julie still be considered family?”

“Yes.”

“So you don’t keep track of how many favors she’s done for you either?”

“No.”

“Now, what about close friends?” 

Jill thinks of the good deeds she’s received at the hands of Rebecca. How many, she doesn’t know, but she does feel in Rebecca’s debt. Never has Rebecca indicated she keeps count. Thinking of Rebecca’s latest offer of help, Jill answers. 

“None of us keep records. Things are done to make the other happy.”

“Precisely! You do favors as gifts because you care an awful lot for each other.” 

“Yes.”

“So maybe you should reconsider being worried about all the favors people are doing for you while you’re in the hospital. Perhaps you can see them as expressions of love for you, as signs that they think you’re a wonderful person.”

“I think you’re pushing it now.”

“Pushing what?”

“I’m a wonderful person.”

“Ask them. You might enjoy their answers.”

“I think I’ll pass on that.”

“Well, at least consider not worrying about repaying favors.”

“Okay. I’ll give that some thought.” 

 Imagine Jill’s desperation in this midnight scene.

The house remains dark. After a long minute, Jill presses the bell again. She hears it ring through the house. Standing at the door, she feels an urge to go pee. As she reaches to press the bell for the third time, a faint light appears in a far room. Be patient, she thinks. No movement comes from the inside. Finally, she presses the doorbell again. A floorboard squeaks from the other side of the wall. Someone’s coming. A drape in the bay window moves. Jill smiles and waves.

As the door cracks opened, a gray-haired lady with wire-rim glasses appears. Jill steps back.

“Gramma Maxwell, it’s me, Jill Rezlay. I’m in trouble. I really need your help. Please let me in.”

haiku capsule:

              Have to ask for help                                                                             

                                Overwhelming circumstance                                                               

                                Independence lost

Nextblog: 

 Help Offering Precedes Request.   

Reading Body Language

Reading Body Language

 How do people communicate with each other? What is the most effective form of communication? 

In today’s world, more and more, texting seems to be the popular choice for communicating. It has taken over from emailing, which replaced phone calls. Letters is really a relic from the past. However, when it comes to discussing matters of great importance nothing is better than a face-to-face conversation. It’s even better than facetime calls. This is a message from a Chicago political activist group working to recruit members to support a growing community movement. 

With the exception of a face-to-face conversation, all the other means of communicating only provide 10% of a person’s message or reaction to a question. If you have a matter of great importance losing a possible 90% of a reaction to a suggestion or question is not acceptable to activist group in building mode. 

The missing ingredient in all the other forms of communication is body language. If fully reading a person is important to a business or political recruit, it is just as important to a writer who wants a reader to identify with the characters in a narrative. An alert, caring character would pick up on a friend’s body language. By the same token, a writer can use body language to clue a reader into another character’s deepest feelings. 

So what all is included in body language? The simplest answer is the body movements of a person. In the selection below Jill’s tension is shown by three actions: she hides her hands under the table something that Mary can see, and Jill squeezes them tightly. Jill also looks at Ed’s shirt pocket to avoid eye contact so he can’t read her fear. Thanks to Mary’s words, “Relax” and Mary’s smiling face, Jill smiles and her hands relax. Note: she isn’t completely at easy because her hands remain under the table. Where people sit is also an indication of how close the characters feel toward each other. Mary sits beside Jill while Ed is across the table. Mary is close enough to reach over and comfort Jill by holding her hand if it was above the table. Visual clues like these are missed by people who rely on a telephone, email or text. 

One afternoon at the end of the day, Mary locks the door as Jill cleans up. Ed calls out to Jill, “When you’re finished, I’d like you to join Mary and me at the table.” While Ed often helps at the busy noon hour, he rarely remains to the end of the day. His unusual presence at closing time worries Jill.

“Shall I bring some cups?” asks Jill, thinking that Ed is joining Mary and her for their usual cup of tea and review of the day. 

“Not today,” responds Mary. Jill sits down at the table, concerned that someone has complained about her service. Ed sits directly across from her, and Mary is to his right.

“I’d like to talk to you about your performance review,” begins Ed.

“Performance review?” Jill hides her hands under the table, squeezing them tightly. This isn’t fair. I haven’t had time to prepare myself. You’ve likely been considering this for some time. She looks at Ed’s shirt pocket to avoid his eyes. 

“After three months, many businesses do a performance review. It’s a little early for yours, but I don’t expect much to change in the next couple of weeks.”

Detecting Jill’s concern, Mary interrupts, “Relax, Jill. I think you’ll be very happy with what Ed has to say. Relax.” Jill looks at Mary’s always smiling face, then at Ed’s.

“I’d like to start by saying we can’t be happier with your work at the bakery. You’ve exceeded my expectations.” 

Jill smiles. Her hands, still under the table, relax. “You know customers not only by their names but as individuals. They like that. It brings them back again and again. They kind of feel like they’re coming home.”

What is the message of hand holding? Many factors come into play in this next selection. Friend-Mary’s hand-holding suggests support as does husband-Bill for Donna. Bill’s not certain of the effect of his holding Jill’s hand. Being touched unexpectedly did once upset Jill. Still Bill’s wife’s comment about the benefit she felt when he held her hand causes him to take a chance and hold Jill’s hand. 

Maybe the warmth of my hand will help her. 

Bill switches to times he sat by the bed and talked to Donna. She too, didn’t respond. Out of an old habit, he picks up Jill’s left hand. It’s cool. Missing the wedding ring. Has Jill already accepted that Joseph is out of her life? He shakes his head. Probably a nurse took it off before her operation.

A startling thought hits Bill as her hand rests in his light grip. Maybe holding her hand is a mistake. He sets Jill’s hand back on the bed. His disturbing memory—He and Jill had walked by a Chicago mall. They passed the corner of a building. A teen raced after his friend. Fearful the teen was going to smash into them, Bill had grabbed Jill’s hand to halt her progress. The kid whizzed by, but Jill leaped back from him, not from the path of the teen. Jill’s lungs filled with air. Her face flared with anger, anger Bill determined to be directed at him. He quickly apologized and explained his action. Jill relaxed and accepted his apology. Then she added, “Unexpected touches scare me. Don’t do it again.” Her scolding made him feel his action separated them for the rest of the day.

Bill places Jill’s limp hand on the bed. That action too feels like a mistake. He wants to comfort her as he did his wife. He recalls the doctor’s comment: The medication will place her in a state of medical paralysis. She can’t move, but she still may be aware of her surroundings.

Donna once told him his holding her hand had comforted her, made her feel she wasn’t alone. She said Bill’s touch was so gentle, so different from the purpose-driven staff. 

Bill decides to take a chance. He picks up Jill’s hand again, holding it with both his hands. He hopes their warmth comforts Jill.

“Jill, until you’re well enough, I will be here for you. Count on that.”

Other cues to detecting a person’s reaction to information or a question include the sound of the person’s voice. Does it become louder or softer? Does the speech come faster or slower? Has the person’s sitting position changed? Forward––eager. Leaning back in the chair––relaxed or as Jill interrupts that action from Bill––professional, a detached-duty-interest not a caring interest. Yes, body language can mean different things to different people at different times. 

haiku capsule:

              the hand’s messages                                                                              

                                texts, emails miss eye’s meanings                                                        

                                unspoken language

Next blog: Ask for Help    

SUMMER––LOVE IT

Summer––Love it.

For two last weeks the temperature has dipped into the low single figure digits. No wonder I am dreaming about tanning, about being blanketed in the glow of the summer’s glowing sun. No doubt that would be a pleasure, a slice of holidays, one of the many take-it-easy joys of summer. When I was a kid, I recall stretching out on the grass. I had nothing to do but listen to the sounds of nature around me. Fifty or so years later I am retired, and I can do that again. Even in the winter many gray-haired people become snowbirds and fly south seeking the comforts of the summer sun. It’s like those times are a reward for all the hard work done. 

As a writer I see summer joys as a tension breaker, a chance for a character who is under a lot of pressure to unwind. Those tranquil settings serve as a sharp contrast from turmoil times. The gulf between those two times serves as a motivator to struggle toward summer’s normality. Who would not seek such a heavenly embrace? 

 Answer: Jill in my novel, Baggage burdens. In the excerpt below share Jill’s tanning joy. Shortly she’ll choose to give up this “heavenly experience.” Consider how great she expects the pain to be from news of a perceived coming threat. 

In the second excerpt enjoy Joseph’s summer sound symphony. Then anticipate the depth of the disturbance that is on his horizon. 

By early August, Jill is very thankful for Josey’s rescuing deeds. They far exceed her wildest hopes. For the last five weeks, Jill had worked hard on her English course, which her grandmother arranged by enrolling her in a summer course in Brampton. Exams are finished. She aced that course. In celebration of her success, she claims the upper veranda deck at her grandmother’s redbrick house in Brampton for her private sun-tanning haven. Singing wind chimes that hang from the soffit at the end of the deck sooth her spirit. 

As her grandmother’s Santorini mobile souvenir comes into focus, she sees a light blue boat with white sails gliding in the late-morning breeze. Half a dozen glistening glass dolphins suspended from the bottom of the boat with an almost invisible tackle line, dart about as if they’re playing in the sea. Eight silver, pencil-thin metal pipes dance around, ringing out their laughter like children on a summer beach. 

“Ah, heaven! I could stay here forever,” says Jill, reminiscing about her summer. Hearing her words of joy urges Jill to praise her grandmother next time she visits.

Draping his loose shirt on the back of the cedar chair, Joseph sits down and soaks in the heat from the hot seat. With his head resting on the back of the chair, he stares at the blue sky. It’s a perfect afternoon to stretch out on the lounger. He moves there.

The slamming back door announces Jill’s arrival. Looking up, he sees her ponytail bob back and forth out of her cap. The way she carries the tray with a pitcher of cold lemonade and two glasses brings an image of Jill working in the bakery. Once he dared hope that Jill would do the same at his place. His dream is now reality. 

‘I’m really blessed,’ he thought.

Joseph feels like he’s on a holiday. He imagines sitting at a resort in some hot spot like Mexico. ‘No. This is better,’ he concludes. Remembering he has work to do, he rationalizes. ‘After an hour, I can still return to my garden. I haven’t spent a cent, but I’ve enjoyed a mini holiday.’ 

He slumps back in the lounger and drinks in the nature around them. Birds chirp in the spruce trees, a distant plane drones overhead, and a car drives slowly down the road, and a fly buzzes by his ear. He flicks it away. The neighbor’s dog adds its voice to nature’s symphony. Then the lemonade splashing in his glass opens his eyes. Jill stands above him, her hand holding out a glass. She fills her glass. The pitcher is close to the glass. He guesses she poured his lemonade to catch his attention.

“It’s so peaceful out here,” she says.

Joseph nods. 

Jill sips her drink, wondering how Joseph will handle the challenge she is about to pose. When her glass is half-empty, she starts.  

haiku capsule:

reward––tanning time 

summer sings a lullaby 

heavenly dessert 

              Next blog:    Reading Body Language 

Order the e-book from kindle or kobo now or your soft cover from Amazon.

Share the sights, sounds, and/or smells that you treasure from summer.

I’d like to hear your response. (callingkensaik@gmail.com)

I’d love to use it on my new website that’s being developed.

All comments will be entered for a draw on the Baggage burdens.companion novel.

Outsider

AnOutsider

You don’t belong. What a hurtful message, even unbelievable. Many people strive to make adjustments in their looks, their behavior in hopes of being accepted. Can this round peg shave its edges to look more square? The problem is the effort is often painful and the results are not what is hoped for. Even worse the person’s uniqueness is lost. The special contributions that they can offer vanishes. For the group or community that isn’t aware of what they are losing there is no regret. You can’t miss something you never knew existed. What is really sadis when a group is aware of and enjoys a person’s special qualities but chooses to let it go. 

Such a situation occurs in the Orthodox Community Church found in my novel, Baggage burdens. The congregation enjoys seeing their children performing in the Christmas play, something that members of their own community have failed at. When Jill successfully works with the children to produce a great show the people love it. But they throw away their opportunity to see repeat performances for what? 

One must feel sorry for a peoplethat feel that their way of life is so fragile that the mere presence of an alternative is a threat. Unfortunately when that same community causes the person or group that is different suffering, sorrow washes away.

 “And speaking of appreciating,” says Mary. She steps near Amber and Daniel, who are playing with toys they received for Christmas earlier in the morning. Touching Daniel’s shoulder, she says, “You guys did a marvelous job.” Mary beams, waving the program featuring the church’s Christmas play. “Actually, all the kids did a marvelous job. No one needed a prompting.”

“And they all spoke so well,” adds Ann.

“Thank Mom for that,” says Amber. “She coached us. She coached all of us.”

“So I gather,” responds Ann. “If I heard right from some of the ladies at the church,” Ann looks at Jill, “you made many of the sets too.”

“Will you, Mom?” Amber looks up expectantly.

“Will I what?” asks Jill, becoming aware that she tuned everyone out. “I’m sorry. I was distracted by something.”

“Will you help with a Christmas production next year? That’s what my Sunday school teacher was wondering about.”

“If I can,” answers Jill.

“I want us to sell this place and move to Camrose.” 

Joseph clamps his jaws tight, praying no sound escapes and she can’t see a reaction on his face. The only thing that comes to mind is, why. Dare I ask? Do I even want to know why?

Then as if someone else is in control of his mouth, his voice calmly says, “Why?”

“I don’t feel at home here. I’m more welcome in Camrose.”

Reading Joseph’s bewilderment she continues. 

“Do you remember, before you asked me to marry you, what you said life was like here for you?” Jill gives Joseph a chance to retrieve the memory. “You said the parents here didn’t trust you. They always chaperoned their daughters if you were around, as if they were protecting them from you. You said that you were part of the community, but you were also locked out of it. That’s what it is like for me. I’m part of this community but shut out of it.” 

Joseph recalls the conversation and the ostracized feeling. The pain of those times causes him to involuntarily shift his position. 

“This has been my home for twenty-one years.” Joseph can hardly recognize his quiet, plaintive, whimpering voice. 

“You don’t think I know what the people here think of me and why? Just because I enjoy spending time with my children and homeschooling them, they think I’m some kind of alien or weirdo. For some reason, they feel threatened. I don’t say they should do what I’m doing. But they have no right to try to tell me what to do either.”

haiku capsule:

doing things my way

Too different––not wanted

Left out in the cold

                           Nextblog:    Summer––Love it. 

Order the e-book from kindle or kobo now or your soft cover from Amazon.

In think about a too different, a left out  person what redeeming quality did they have?

I’d like to hear your response. (callingkensaik@gmail.com)

I’d love to use it on my new website that’s being developed.

All comments will be entered for a draw on the Baggage burdens.companion novel.

An Outsider

An Outsider

You don’t belong. What a hurtful message, even unbelievable. Many people strive to make adjustments in their looks, their behavior in hopes of being accepted. Can this round peg shave its edges to look more square? The problem is the effort is often painful and the results are not what is hoped for. Even worse the person’s uniqueness is lost. The special contributions that they can offer vanishes. For the group or community that isn’t aware of what they are losing, there is no regret. You can’t miss something you never knew existed. What is really sad is when a group is aware of and enjoys a person’s special qualities but chooses to let it go. 

Such a situation occurs in the Orthodox Community Church found in my novel, Baggage burdens. The congregation enjoys seeing their children performing in the Christmas play, something that members of their own community have failed at. When Jill successfully works with the children to produce a great show the people love it. But they throw away their opportunity to see repeat performances for what? 

One must feel sorry for a people that feel that their way of life is so fragile that the mere presence of an alternative is a threat. Unfortunately when that same community causes the person or group that is different suffering, sorrow washes away.

 “And speaking of appreciating,” says Mary. She steps near Amber and Daniel, who are playing with toys they received for Christmas earlier in the morning. Touching Daniel’s shoulder, she says, “You guys did a marvelous job.” Mary beams, waving the program featuring the church’s Christmas play. “Actually, all the kids did a marvelous job. No one needed a prompting.”

“And they all spoke so well,” adds Ann.

“Thank Mom for that,” says Amber. “She coached us. She coached all of us.”

“So I gather,” responds Ann. “If I heard right from some of the ladies at the church,” Ann looks at Jill, “you made many of the sets too.”

“Will you, Mom?” Amber looks up expectantly.

“Will I what?” asks Jill, becoming aware that she tuned everyone out. “I’m sorry. I was distracted by something.”

“Will you help with a Christmas production next year? That’s what my Sunday school teacher was wondering about.”

“If I can,” answers Jill.

“I want us to sell this place and move to Camrose.” 

Joseph clamps his jaws tight, praying no sound escapes and she can’t see a reaction on his face. The only thing that comes to mind is, why. Dare I ask? Do I even want to know why?

Then as if someone else is in control of his mouth, his voice calmly says, “Why?”

“I don’t feel at home here. I’m more welcome in Camrose.”

Reading Joseph’s bewilderment she continues. 

“Do you remember, before you asked me to marry you, what you said life was like here for you?” Jill gives Joseph a chance to retrieve the memory. “You said the parents here didn’t trust you. They always chaperoned their daughters if you were around, as if they were protecting them from you. You said that you were part of the community, but you were also locked out of it. That’s what it is like for me. I’m part of this community but shut out of it.” 

Joseph recalls the conversation and the ostracized feeling. The pain of those times causes him to involuntarily shift his position. 

“This has been my home for twenty-one years.” Joseph can hardly recognize his quiet, plaintive, whimpering voice. 

“You don’t think I know what the people here think of me and why? Just because I enjoy spending time with my children and homeschooling them, they think I’m some kind of alien or weirdo. For some reason, they feel threatened. I don’t say they should do what I’m doing. But they have no right to try to tell me what to do either.”

haiku capsule:

doing things my way

Too different––not wanted

Left out in the cold

                           Next blog:    Summer––Love it. 

Order the e-book from kindle or kobo now or your soft cover from Amazon.

In think about a too different, a left out person what redeeming quality did they have?

I’d like to hear your response. (callingkensaik@gmail.com)

I’d love to use it on my new website that’s being developed.

All comments will be entered for a draw on the Baggage burdens.companion novel.