Could This Be You?

August 31, 2014 ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

Dear WritingSelf,

Do not get discouraged when you can’t think of anything you feel like writing. Feelings are a sneaky enemy of getting things done. They make you think you have nothing to say that anyone wants to hear, nothing to write that anyone wants to read, and this is not true. Your feelings tell you all kinds of things that aren’t true but we won’t go into that right now.

You know your mother always wants to read what you write and haven’t you been surprised at comments from others as well? If only one person gets something of value from your letters and posts, isn’t that significant? Even if it were just Mom, she matters! People matter! I know you try to tell yourself you are just writing for your own satisfaction – it doesn’t matter if anyone else ever reads you – but that’s only partly true. We’ve been over this before. People read because 1) they’ve been through the same things and like to know someone else has as well 2) they haven’t been through the same things and are curious and like new ideas. You care about people and want to contribute to that process so you write. You write for people. You write for yourself. Both are true.

And didn’t you start writing, even with the first letter when you were young, because you had a unique way of looking at ordinary things? Didn’t you want everyone to know that their way of seeing the world was also unique and possibly inspiring. There really is nothing new under the sun but there might be a new way of thinking about that experience, that act, that situation. Your way of thinking might expand someone else’s world a little even if you’re not on some “best seller” list.

Pleeeease, don’t think about all the other amazing (more amazing than you) writers you’ve found online and let that discourage you. The majority of people on this planet never write anything. The fact that you want to write makes you part of a small number of people willing to write the history of all people as they write about their own lives.

You’re having a dry spell, so what?. Are you going to pretend that you’ve never heard another writer mention something like that before? It will pass. Go make a list, write a letter to a friend, jot down a silly poem, describe what you see out the window or what you had for lunch. In five or ten years, that might be a precious reminder of this time in your life.

And last but not least, God put it in your heart to be a writing person for a reason. Keep writing and find out what it is.

The First Alphabet Challenge?

August 30, 2014 Shirleyjdietz2 Comments

Click Picture to CLOSE

One of my summer projects has been to read the book of Psalms as if it were a blog, which is why one of my pages is called David’s blog. Looking at it in this different way has made me notice some things I hadn’t thought about before. Last week, reading Psalm 119 I was reminded of how it is divided into 21 parts, each part starting with a letter of the Hebrew alphabet – aleph to tav. It was David’s A to Z Challenge! This, of course, means a whole lot more to me this year after doing my own A to Z Challenge for the first time. Writers are writers, and apparently it is nothing new to stimulate ideas and creativity with challenges.

I’ve also noticed how many different writers are collected in the Psalms. Lots of them are labeled “of David” but others have interesting introductions like “a maskil of Ethan the Ezrahite” and “for the director of music. According to gittith. Of the sons of Korah.” One of my favorite writers was Asaph. I wish there had been more written about who he was and what he did to inspire some of his writings. Some of the introductions sound like things I read today, but in much nicer language. For instance this one “a prayer of an afflicted man, when he is faint and pours out his lament before the Lord” (Psalm 102). I’ve been in that place more than a few times and tried to express it in my writing. I have a bond with that guy.

Beep, beep, boop?

August 28, 2014August 28, 2014 ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

What? Who did this? To those of you reading who are not also bloggers, I will explain. One of the latest updates to WordPress, my blog host, includes a cute little “beep, beep, boop” message wiggling around in the center of a blank screen for a few seconds after certain commands are instituted. It’s a thing to look at while you’re waiting. Evidently someone thought that us bloggers would lose interest and wander off if we didn’t have something new to look at for three seconds while our post is being published. I’d like to meet the originator of this idea and try to figure them out. I’m always amazed at the things people will think to do. Actually, sometimes I’m also amazed at the things people don’t think to do – the old rule, never say never, applies equally to never say always. Both good things to remember.

This last week, every time I sat down at the computer I lost interest and wandered off. One day I didn’t even turn the thing on. But that’s ok. A week of inactivity online doesn’t bother me much and gives me the opportunity to write about what I have been into while I haven’t been writing.

– Equate extra strength Headache Relief, for the headache that doesn’t seem to want to quit. Although I’m probably not doing my stomach any favors, I’m grateful for the four or five hours of relief and super wakefulness that I get from swallowing a couple pills.

Hello headache, my old friend... — Hello headache, my old friend…

– Intraocular injections (shot in the eyeball), for the eye problem that was dramatically improved, in the doctor’s own words. I’m grateful that it’s working and that I don’t have to get another one for five weeks, although I am getting used to everything about them (except the cost…)

– Childcare, for several of my yòoung friends who I realize I’ve been missing. How come you guys can grow up in what seems like no time at all? Gracie, Lydia, Josh, Zeke, Shiloh – grateful for time spent with you that makes me feel younger even while I marvel at you getting older. I’m troubled by the fact that I’ve never played X-box. Is that weird?

Childcare for her, adult care for me... — Childcare for her, adult care for me…

– Old letters and old files, for the urge to purge and to organize. Lots of stuff has been burned or shredded, but lots else has been rediscovered and readied for the next project, memoir writing. I’ve always been alarmed by my lack of memory for details of the past. Not only did I forget all those details, but I forgot that I’d written them down in letters to others. This morning, reading letters written to my mother ten years ago, all I could think was “Really, I did that?” and “Did some other person’s life sneak into my letters?” Grateful for the written record of the past.

I'm more prolific than I remembered. — I’m more prolific than I remembered.

– Appliance shopping, because the washer and dryer that have wanted to leave my house for years, finally broke free. Grateful that within hours of starting to shop for replacements I came across a used set that is probableyten years younger. After only one session with the furniture dolly, the truck, the hoses, wrenches and plumbing tape, they are installed in my laundry room and functioning almost correctly. The printed message under the temp dial that says “all rinses are cold only” really means they are scalding hot only. I think I know how we can fix that.

– Air travel websites, for the supposed improvement of doing it yourself. Instead of calling a knowledgeable person and telling them when and where I want to travel I can now spend hours online hunting for the best connection at the best price. And American Express Delta Frequent Flyer card, how dare you revoke the companion ticket feature without telling me. Planning my revenge…

– the garden that was, the heat that is, that yard that will be. Grateful for the healing work that takes place in me when I’m outdoors. Grateful for green things, if they’re plants – not, if they’re worms.

– Face time, with friends and family who care. I am realizing that the purpose and value of life is all in the relationships I find and nurture. Realizing also that God is that friend and that family member who makes it all possible. Having less work away from home has given me more time to nurture the relationship with him and I am so grateful for that. Gives me some precious times of discovery, comfort, peace and excitement. Arlette and I took a lovely walk yesterday and talked of all these things.

Nature walk with my friends Arlette and God.

My friend Arlette (and maybe God too, on her left)

She Loved

August 20, 2014August 21, 2014 Shirleyjdietz6 Comments

I’ve had a bent toward independence most of my life and kind of wrestled with the question of whether I had ever had a mentor. I had my mom – she was always my first “go to” person, but being mom was her job, a position all its own. There were a lot of other people I knew and I spent a lot of time thinking about their experiences. I did that in order to avoid their pitfalls. It seemed like a good idea not to learn firsthand what I could learn vicariously. But a mentor?

So I was a bit surprised when I did think of someone. I thought of Elaine and immediately knew why she came to mind.

It wasn’t because she had any kind of corrective role in my life. I don’t think she ever pointed out specifics about my child rearing or my work habits. She didn’t tell me to keep house better or spend more time with the kids. What she did do was make time for evenings playing cards with the husbands, and invite us to watch fireworks over the golf course from her nearby yard. She had tea parties with my young girls and met me for breakfast after my night shifts at the hospital. We went to a crazy restaurant where they had beaver on the menu and laughed while she tried it (she tried it). She loved people and was always telling me about the interesting ones she met. She wanted to be better at helping them and studied to be part of the Stephen ministry at her church. And the thing that fed my soul the most, she always acted like she enjoyed our times together.

Part of the attraction for me was the difference in our ages and stages of life. Elaine was already married to my cousin and living in her first home when I was a young teen. She hosted me and several of my same age cousins at a family wedding, putting up with our late night antics and endless harmonizing to “Moon River”. She was beautiful, but not arrogant. Years later when I was married, working, mothering and struggling to keep it all together, she was still beautiful and gracious in a way that time and experience had only magnified. She was honest about the parts of life that weren’t perfect, but didn’t dwell on them. She gave me the message that those imperfections didn’t have to define one’s life, that they offered opportunities for growth and satisfaction.

We moved away. For a couple of years I only saw Elaine when we came back to the hometown on vacation. I worried when she was diagnosed with leukemia, but she went through chemo, bought herself a wig and carried on as she always had. It was a shock when her disease took a turn for the worse. Within days she was gone. I did not get to say goodbye.

I did not fully realize how much I loved her until she was gone. Knowing her was a singular experience. I can’t think of anyone else who gave of herself and spent time with me in quite the same way, noticing the highs and lows of my life and responding with encouragement and love. And that, simply, was it. She loved.

Community

August 20, 2014 ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

That is a word to wrestle with (or, with which to wrestle, just so 6th grade English teacher doesn’t fight to get out of her coffin…). Monday nights my email inbox fills with weekly digests of all the bloggers I have followed. I recognize most of the names and think of something I’ve read from them that really intrigued me and gave me a reason to push the follow button. I try to always have a reason.

Yesterday, which was a Tuesday, I settled down to read and interact. I know this is essential to being part of the community and I want to do it. I got as far as the first site and ended up reading several long, thoughtful posts. And then it was time to quit reading and interact with some housework and a doctor’s appointment.

This happens so much of the time.

One blog out of so many.

Anybody else have this problem?

I despair of keeping up after having started a reading relationship. And from what I understand, it is reaching out to new writers and encouraging them that really builds community, following more and more blogs, more and more to read, comment on, keep up with. The problem is not that I am a slow reader. The problem seems to be that I am really interested in what I’m learning about someone. And I do seem to need a lot of time to think about what I’m reading.

This community of bloggers is a big, fascinating marketplace. I’m not upset (eh, maybe a little) because I’ve already accepted that I have limitations. I can’t be best friends with the whole world, but I can get better acquainted with some of it. So, today Lord help me decide where to read, where to comment, what to write. I will rest in that, for today.

Seeing

August 16, 2014 ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

It's one thing to see a manatee... — It’s one thing to see a manatee…

and a whole other thing to see one through the eyes of a child.

It’s Not A Crime

August 15, 2014August 15, 2014 ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

This is not a post from a sweet, gray haired, “got it all figured out” Christian lady . I am just a person who sometimes lies awake at night wondering about life and who I am and why I’m here.

This is a week where a family member has died. It’s a week when a child has asked me “do you think it would be okay to have fun and not be sad?” I have come to a conclusion. It is not a crime to be happy. The world is full of terrible things, even so, it is more of a crime to be sad than to be happy. We were made to be happy. That is good news.

All the terrible things in the world didn’t come about by chance. They were not put here for us by an uncaring God either. We chose those things ourselves, most of them, and others came because we chose to hang out with a bad gang bent on destruction. Those terrible things, all of them, came when we didn’t believe what we were told about how to be happy.

It is somewhere deep in our being to think, and then say “NO, I do it myself!” Why is it so hard for us to believe that we are not the smartest, most reasonable, most capable, most invincible beings ever? Why is that so hard? Why do we act like a two year old child when we are told what will be best for us? Why does it take us fifty, sixty, seventy, ninety years to realize that we are not in control and that our days are going to run out. Those days go by faster and faster, begging us to look the issue straight on, to decide whether we will let ourselves acknowledge our parent who knows more than we do, our creator, and call him God.

I am not a preacher or a missionary. Sometimes I wish I were a missionary and could go to some land where life is very difficult, much more basic and simple. People there do not need to be convinced that there is a God. Most of the time they just need to be told and they recognize it as what they’ve been longing to hear and know. I live in a land where people think too much about some things and too little about other more important things – but there is a lot of thinking going on. Thinking like that young child, which is pretty much “what do I want now?”

This whole question of what’s going on with life can be learned by studying that parent – child relationship. It’s all there. I’ve had kids. I know. I’m not talking about all the bad variations of it that we have managed to come up with. A true parent longs for the child from the moment it is conceived in the mind, becomes more in love with it as it develops, protects it, delights in seeing it progress, grow and assume unique qualities. A true parent is concerned with the lifelong happiness of the child and has a better picture of how that is to be achieved than does the child. The toddler sincerely thinks he is capable, because he knows what he wants now. He does not know what he will want later – he has to be told that and don’t expect him to understand. Really, you can’t even tell him.

Don’t try.

Can you see how we are kind of like toddlers all our lives? We try one thing that we want after another, trying to feel big and important and smart and we will do it ourselves. We are not able to understand. We will test. We will insist. A good parent knows this will happen and plans for it. A good parent would die to keep their child safe and bring them through those tests. I am not a perfect parent but I feel that way about my kids. I think God feels that way about me.

I live in a world that is crazy with design and beauty, full of things meant to be good, meant to produce growth. I’m like that baby that grows up in the home provided by the parents – it’s child-proofed and I’m surrounded by toys to amuse and educate me. I’m watched over, cared for. Could I possibly think I put all that in place myself ? More and more, I know that I did not do it myself.

I lie awake at night thinking about this. Why does this even make sense to me? Why doesn’t it make sense to everyone – that’s what I wonder. Am I missing something?

Those Moments

August 10, 2014 Shirleyjdietz4 Comments

There are moments of reflection, and I seem to have a lot of them lately, where I think “what if I never get to do this (fill in the blank) again?” I have done a bunch of really fun things that I never intended to stop doing but haven’t had a chance to repeat.

Last week, cleaning files, I found my maps and notes from my two Appalachian hikes. I know the exact section I wanted to do next but have not gotten back.

And later, the three day walk for breast cancer – I did 60 miles and it was so gratifying to have made it to the end. I’m having trouble with my knees now and wonder if it is permanent or temporary.

I found the handbook for the trail ride my daughter and I took across Florida, the menu from the chuck wagon, and the schedule of ranches that where we camped. My horse lives four hours away from me now and I rarely ever get to ride. Will it happen again? Have I put these plans and dreams away?

All this came to mind yesterday, at the pool of all places. I don’t go to a pool very often but I have always loved to swim. My childhood was full of long afternoons at the lake swimming and making up water games with my brothers and friends. Here I was with Gracie, who is eight and in that early stage of water love that I remembered so clearly. We had a few little races and tested how long we could hold our breath underwater.

I got one of those moments of reflection. Some body memories never leave you and I could sooo feel the arch of my back and the body swirl of a backward somersault in the water. Thought I, to myself, “do it again, it’s only water, how could you possibly hurt yourself?”

(Are you poised for disaster?)

I was right, it didn’t hurt. It felt downright good. (fooled you?)

Gracie was very impressed and we spent a few minutes while she tried it and practiced. As we did, we migrated to the height of water most convenient for her, about 3 1/2 feet. .My next backward flip demo was a little short on water depth, and I found myself kissing the floor of the pool at the bottom of my circle. Well, not even that really. I scraped the tip of my nose and chin, but the redness kind of disappeared into the sunburn I had already gotten. I appear unscathed.

It’s kind of nice to find that you CAN do it again, sometimes. You might have to think it through and be a little more careful, but you can do it. If you want to. If you don’t care that you are the only person over 60 in the pool doing handstands and back flips… just sayin’.

Container Queen

August 6, 2014 Shirleyjdietz5 Comments

I am in the middle of a revelation. I am the Container Queen.

I have been paring down, cleaning, throwing away as I go through the various rooms in my house.

Someday, someone will be glad I did this.

Today, going through my gardening supplies and equipment it was suddenly, glaringly obvious that there were containers everywhere. Boxes, tubs, baskets, carry-alls, jars, vases – all sizes, made of many different materials, some full, some empty but waiting for just the right thing to go in them. I have to acknowledge this “thing” I have for containers and maybe (???) do something about it.

Yesterday I spent about an hour breaking down cardboard boxes that I had saved for someday when we move. Some of the boxes had come from FedEx or USPS, from Mary Kay, and some I even hauled home from work because they were a handy size. My garage shelves are stacked with boxes of canning jars,Tupperware that I can’t bear to throw away and plastic containers to hold … other containers, yes. I have baskets and bowls that I couldn’t resist, but at least they are decorative. I even pick interesting containers out of other people’s garbage (painful confession). My employer buys expensive almond soap in these really cute boxes which she thinks she throws away, but they are containing my button collection now.

Almost anytime there is something to be contained, I can think of something I have that is just right for the job – because at least half my containers are empty and waiting. Do I have a problem? I don’t know. But I have to say it does feel kind of good to finally be queen of something.