articles · Creative Writing

The Evolution of Human Behavior

It’s not about learning all we can and getting to some ‘point’ of stopping. That would work out beautifully if the world would stop changing. But we know it’s not. And it won’t.

What we’ve got to do is adapt. Adaptation requires learning. Learning requires teaching. It’s a process, an action. Not an object with a definitive end result.

We learn from each other. Actions, words. If we take the time to explain to someone that takes the time to listen, a beautiful thing occurs.


We teach each other. Every day we have the capacity to learn new things if we can put aside that part of our ego that stops us. Gets embarrassed. Feels vulnerable.

If we allow ourselves to know we could use some help with understanding, we won’t be so quick to resist it.

I feel as if social media has backfired and is now causing us to feel more isolated from each other than connected. It seems to bring out the negativity in people and the lashing out instead of the open forum for discussion, which I imagine was the intended platform when this idea first came to pass.

People as a whole, families and friends, find little to no time to be in each other’s physical company. I’ve had online discussions (the irony) about this phenomenon and it seems to be most age groups experience the same thing. Families just aren’t getting together as much as they used to. Friends are not going over to each other’s houses. There is some sort of isolation between human beings that is occurring because we are infiltrated with devices and alternative ways to stay connected.

The lack of human touch in society now is creating issues and I will address this further in an article to come.

No matter how you look at it we are in the throes of human behavior changing, evolving into something that has been heavily influenced by technology and social media. Only years down the road will we be able to look back and see where it all began. And I think what we will find it was right around now.

As always, thoughts and opinions are welcomed in discussion.

articles · Creative Writing

Chronicles of a Childless Mother


Only since freeing myself from the confines of birth control have I been able to fully feel my body.

Every thing. The changes. Physical activity and gym results can actually be felt, sensed and measured. Each muscle I work, every ache and pain.

During the 48 hour span that happens twelve times a year, I feel like an alien. Eggs. I have eggs. And they move in tubes inside my body.

What about that doesn’t sound completely insane?!

The thoughts that accompany it…from reassessing my worth as a human to imagining myself as a mother or wife. Wondering if any of that will ever actually happen.

The window is closing…although I’m unsure of how quickly. The inability to put a time frame on these things is maddening in itself.

How long do I have if I want to be a mother? I’ve thought about it and waited 3 decades to decide. And now that I have, I fear it won’t happen and I’ll be left with no connection with this unmade part of me.

I’ve never been proposed to, so maybe I’m just not wife material. I might not be the type of person someone can see themselves getting older with.

These are some of the thoughts that plague the mind of a 39 year old unmarried and childless woman hitting the next stage of her life.

It feels more like a collision course set for hell on some days.

Comments and supportive conversation welcomed!

Creative Writing

Fruity Loop Da Loop

When you grow up sheltered, the world as an adult is a very different place and it takes a great amount of adjusting.

Parents shelter children for different reasons, whether it be to protect them from their own personal fears or to try to keep them from ever being hurt. As Noble as it is, sheltering to an extreme doesn’t do anybody any favors.

Additionally, as an only child, I didn’t have a lot of exposure to other people until I got into kindergarten. Before that it was mostly family members. I guess you could say there were behavioral issues because I didn’t know how to act around other kids or how to begin a conversation with them if I wanted to see the toy they had. So I would just take it and of course that caused problems and it kind of escalated from there. Next thing you know, five year old Heather is sitting in the corner drinking her milk for a week.

I’m not blaming anyone here, I’m just recalling the facts as I experienced them.

Fast forward to the rest of my adult life and it was mostly spent working a full-time job, putting myself through school and trying to maintain a relationship that had no business being in.

After getting out, I spent the better part of the next decade living alone and supporting myself. Working two jobs was often a thing because Pittsburgh sucked so badly in the winter time you needed something to occupy your mind. Of course extra money never hurts either.

All of these experiences coupled with a few traumatic life events have molded me into a pretty anxious and tightly wound individual… wanting to be in the know. Kept aware and in the loop. After spending so many years being told nothing I am a huge advocate of communication. I like talking and discussing things, just mouthing words and being able to hear another person say them.

Communication consists of listening, talking, gestures, body language, word structure, expressions. I enjoy all of that. The short term memory loss issues I still have from the car accident unfortunately make me one of those blurters because I’m afraid I’m going to forget what I want to say. Unless I have a notebook with me, then I can write it down and it’s different.

The only way to get better at something is to do it a little more often. I want to make that a point to follow in the next few months.

Creative Writing

Chronicles of a Childless Mother

I thought I did things the right way.

After watching my halfsister become pregnant at an early age and what it did for causing stress…I knew it was best to wait.

So here I am. Soon to be 40. Never pregnant. Never married. Not on birth control. But ready.

The biological clock is something that is difficult to put into words…but it’s that tearing inside my chest when I see a baby or small child with their loving parents. A mother talking to her tiny person with a connection that could not possibly be understood by anyone else.

Having no full blooded brothers or sisters, I grew up not knowing I was missing anything…until I had a real connection and then it was gone. Those times when you feel it so you know how deep it can go. Knowing things without saying because you don’t have to.

I want that. A connection to something. To feel a collective part of something bigger.

Maybe I need to join a cult.

Drink the koolaid.

Might as well.

With each day that passes, I continue to strive for a deep connection with the people & things around me, despite negative opposition from the world.

It wears me down. I only hope to have enough energy to be productive and attempt to keep my latent thoughts at bay.

Creative Writing

The Death of Communication

Communication as we know it has changed drastically over the last 2 decades.

I was born in 1978. I grew up playing board games, being outside all summer & talking to people face to face.

Vivid recollections of little kid anxiety circled around having to ask someone to have something kept me rehearsing what I was going to say for hours.

People can’t seem to speak to each other in person without getting anxiety much anymore. I’m sure we all know someone who’s anxious (me included), but the key is handling it. Meditation, deep breathing, talking to someone, writing it down. All effective.

The world is a screwy place. It’s kind of gone to shit, and the least we can do is try to hold onto that bit of humanity and connection that’s left. That involves speaking to each other, really listening and offering feedback without fear of ridicule or backlash.

Aspects of social media have created distance and paranoia where there should be none and studies actually show decreased negativity and stress with decreased online time. Google it. It’s there.

Thank you for reading… But get off your phone and go visit someone you love!

Creative Writing

Not a good day to die

I’ll never forget the odor filling my nostrils as I opened my eyes to fuzzy darkness….that distinct chemical carpet smell coupled with the latest fruity deodorizer.

What happened?

Oh, right. I spent the weekend in the hospital from a head on collision that was my fault.

I picked myself up from the floor of my second story bedroom. Intense and crippling pain in my side. A call to a friend, a trip to the hospital where I was supposed to get surgery on my hand that was broken this very day.

I stumble in. I’m in a bed as I try to explain between piercing breathes why I’m there and what is happening.

I’m bleeding internally. I can hardly breath.

Ambulance ride to the trauma unit at the downtown hospital. As if shit weren’t real enough already.

Parents were called, first time they even saw me since the accident 4 days ago. They didn’t even know.

It’d be so easy to disappear sometimes. Right place, right time.

Punctured liver that was missed, bleeding out for days. The Dr claimed I was hours within dying.

Is that what dying feels like?

They said it was. Hours.

Was that 120 minutes? Or more?

What if we only had the next 120 minutes?

Would it be a good day to try?

articles · Creative Writing

Human Beings: Creating Problems Where There Are None 

Is it that need for drama? The importance we feel when we’re solving crazy issues? The satisfaction in seeing the back end of resolution?

Maybe all of these things factor into why we, as human beings, find the need to create problems where there don’t need to be.

Social media. We could say that there are problems that have arisen from this. Behaviorial disorders being at the top of the list. * We definitely created that. Not with the intention of causing drama or more racism, but that is the underlying effect.

Bathroom gender segregation. This isn’t the first time we as humans have had issues with our defecation locations. The bathroom situation should have always been unisex for public places. Set up for whomever chooses to use it. Individual spaces for everyone. Making them gender specific in the first place seems to be another case of making a problem where there wasn’t one.

General butthurt. Yes, this is a useable grammatical phrase now. Communication has turned into a process that receives negative connotations. We are supposed to mind our own business and respect the individuality of others…but how are we supposed to learn unless we respectfully ask questions?

Take criticism!! Not everyone will like you or your thoughts and not everyone has to. Sensitivity to a degree is great if we’re applying it to the correct situation.

If we make it a point to be more aware each day, I’m almost certain that communication would open back up and we’d feel closer to our friends and family again.

Creative Writing

Sleep Bio for Overachievers💤

I require much less sleep to function at the optimal level than most. 6-7 is great. More than 7 is way too much & I’ll feel lethargic and groggy.

Sleep is hard and solid for the first 2-3 hours, I fall asleep quickly. But during the last 2 hours of the nights sleep, I can awaken easily. Then it’s difficult to return to sleep. I wake up in the morning with the most energy of the day. Within 5 minutes of opening my eyes, I’m ready to go. Think, plan, work out, clean. By 3:30, my energy plateaus and then it’s time to begin winding down for evening.

It’s 8:10 pm now, dark…I’m craving sweets and about ready to get into super chill mode.

Have a great night everyone!!

Creative Writing

Busy 🐝🐝

Writing has been unfortunately in a far of corner of my mind side business has picked up.

As with any artistic expression, it must come from within or its meaningless and boring. There’s been a lot going on and I’ve been jotting down snippets of topics to discuss. Points I’m pretty determined to make. Questions I have that I want perspective on.

Keep it to snippets and perhaps the frequency would follow…

Until later…

-your friendly neighborhood spiderchik

Creative Writing

The Detail Devil

I notice all of them.

Patterns. In behaviors, in clouds, in the mind.

Being able to not only notice the tiny details of something, but to categorize those details into smaller groups helps a person become aware.

Its about being present in the moment. Experience the holding on of time. Savoring it. Thinking of it while it’s happening so hard that you can taste it. I recall moments passing me by and wondering what I could do to make the amazing ones last longer.

The way I learned to capture moments by noticing details was aided through meditation. Although I could stand to keep a routine practice, the senses that were once fine tuned during mediating remain as such.

Being able to put down a phone, get away from your day and spend time settling your head does wonders. As well as leaving you with lasting positive effects.

Be well and happy weekend!