Tag: Writing

The subject of writing, my own writing journey, writing that I read and enjoy

Well, Imagine That!

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It is cold chilly here in Florida today. We get a few days like this every year and although I like to be able to go outside without breaking into a sweat, I often use the temperature drop as an excuse to stay inside more.  But as I’ve written, I’ve been riding my bike lately and have actually been knitting a hat to keep my ears warm during my morning adventures.  I’m going out, cold weather or not.  I am encouraged and inspired by a blogger I’ve started following at www.bikelikecrazy.com.  My five miles in the sunshine doesn’t measure up to her daily 10 mile commute to work in snow and ice (yes, she does that).

I’m also thinking a lot about my imagination, which needs exercise as much as my body does.  It is a good thing to be totally present in the here and now, which is where I feel I have been for quite a long time.  Doing life, dealing with its circumstances and spending time with the people accessible to me, has been my focus.  Writing about life takes time and imagination, and has not been my focus.  I haven’t been writing.  The few things I’ve cranked out have been a struggle and I’ve not gotten much satisfaction from them.  I’ve told myself that this is probably a stage to be expected.  I should not be upset with it, but I should expect it to pass.

So, in my imagination I am writing a book, a very satisfying book.  It begins with people living ordinary lives, but with a sense of calling or higher purpose.  This sense carries them through difficulties of all kinds, and grief unspeakable at times.  This sense frames their everyday activities in a meaningful way.  It makes them examine every relationship with others with a keen eye as to what might be happening. The enduring quality of this “sense” means it is picked up by their children, and their children’s children.

Some of this I do not have to imagine because it is contained in the diaries and personal letters of my ancestors.  I am thankful for their attention to recording what they experienced. The things they have written have made a difference to me – one person, many generations later.  The thought that one person in the future might be encouraged by something I write is reason enough for me to be diligent.  My imaginative effort does not have to include fame, book deals and sequels in order for me to want to do the work.  However, it also doesn’t hurt to imagine those things since they are pretty safe there and it gives me practice not fearing them.

Someone in times past was inspired to write “now to the one who can do infinitely more than all we can ask or imagine according to the power that is working among us”.  I think that inspiration came from a God who wanted us to imagine not just mediocre, impoverished imaginings, but big, creative and challenging ones.  Practice in doing that is what I need, and a good time to do it is while I’m on my bike.

I’m putting on my hat and getting to it. WIN_20160207_120517

Mind – a four letter word…

Shirleyjdietz3 Comments

I happened upon lindaghill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday with the word “mind” as a prompt. http://lindaghill.com/2015/08/21/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-august-2215/  I have not linked to something of this kind before so we’ll see how it goes.

What it brought to MIND was the way people around me seem to be in fear of losing theirs.  One example is the husband, who is always shaking his head over something he’s forgotten he did.  He makes notes at work so he can look back and remember.  He looks at the notes and can’t believe he wrote them.

So I forget things too, and I have to say I forget things more than I used to.  Sometimes I am talking and I know what I intend to say but I can’t think of the word I want to use.  I can try to say the thought in a different way, but I want that one word.  I know I’ve used it many times and it is a friend of mine but it won’t come out.  I used to never remember the word for this awesome flower, hydrangea, and I would mull it over for a couple hours…” what is that word, what is that word, I think it starts with C, no J, no G, no…” and then I fixed the problem by calling it water flower because I can associate water with hydro and  *presto!* it pops into my MIND.

And I have trouble remembering what kind of dog Charlie is.  I can always remember terrier but not the specific kind.  Conquered that too, it’s Wheaten.  And he is the color of wheat so will I forget it? No, it just takes me a couple seconds to remember what to call his color.  He is not a Beige Terrier, or an OffWhite Terrier.  I’m confusing myself.

And so what if I remember to lock the door but leave the key in the lock on the outside.  I don’t know how a person does that but I’m sure it’s because I get distracted with all the things on my MIND.

I have had several clients with Alzheimer’s  and that is indeed something to fear.  Whatever it is that messes with their minds is really an enemy and I have deep compassion for people who lose family members to that disease.  My mom always says that she hopes if she gets it she won’t be upset because she won’t remember being any other way.  I hope if I get Alzheimers I will do it in a happy way, and everyone I am with will be like meeting a new friend every time I see them.  That would be lovely.

Hey we all forget. And we forget more as we age.  But we don’t forget everything and I’m praying about it, thinking that it’s just one more thing under God’s control.  If I’m his servant, then I’m his problem and he can figure out what to do with me.  I don’t MIND.

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Maybe you would like to do a SoCS post? If so, here are the rules and the link to use is in my first paragraph.

1. Your post must be stream of consciousness writing, meaning no editing, (typos can be fixed) and minimal planning on what you’re going to write.

2. Your post can be as long or as short as you want it to be. One sentence – one thousand words. Fact, fiction, poetry – it doesn’t matter. Just let the words carry you along until you’re ready to stop.

3. There will be a prompt every week. I will post the prompt here on my blog on Friday, along with a reminder for you to join in. The prompt will be one random thing, but it will not be a subject. For instance, I will not say “Write about dogs”; the prompt will be more like, “Make your first sentence a question,” “Begin with the word ‘The’,” or simply a single word to get your started.

4. Ping back! It’s important, so that I and other people can come and read your post! For example, in your post you can write “This post is part of SoCS:” and then copy and paste the URL found in your address bar at the top of this post into yours.  Your link will show up in my comments for everyone to see. The most recent pingbacks will be found at the top.

5. Read at least one other person’s blog who has linked back their post. Even better, read everyone’s! If you’re the first person to link back, you can check back later, or go to the previous week, by following my category, “Stream of Consciousness Saturday,” which you’ll find right below the “Like” button on my post.

6. Copy and paste the rules (if you’d like to) in your post. The more people who join in, the more new bloggers you’ll meet and the bigger your community will get!

7. As a suggestion, tag your post “SoCS” and/or “#SoCS” for more exposure and more views.

8. Have fun!

Learning through the 2015 A to Z Challenge

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There are two aspects to what I’ve learned. The first is about the value of a writing challenge. Without the challenge I probably wouldn’t have learned that I can write six times a week for four weeks on my blog without dying, not even close. It’s this kind of discipline that I will have to ascribe to if I ever want to write, oh, a book perhaps… You don’t know until you try, and now I know I can do this and probably more.

The second thing of note came through the theme I chose, that of recording family stories. Memory alone can not be relied upon to preserve a record of meaningful events. Some things have to be written down in a record or they will be forgotten or remembered wrongly/imperfectly. Reflecting on things as they happen also helps cement events and lessons learned in one’s mind. That’s why this reflection I’m doing now on the challenge is helping me. I’m giving what I’ve learned some structure and planning how to use it in the future.

And speaking of the future, one realization that makes me sad is that I do not remember ever sitting down and having a one on one conversation with any of my four brothers when we were young. I find that really strange, since we enjoy talking with each other now. We lived our lives watching each other but I can’t recall the challenges they went through growing up, nor do I think I shared my ups and downs with them. We were only two years apart from each other. Was that difference so much that we couldn’t identify, or was I just too busy and wrapped up in myself to notice them. Now I am eager to record some of our conversations, the subjects of them and what we thought. I’m sure this will prove interesting in the future as our thinking evolves and we ourselves change and grow (old).

And of course it goes without saying that I respect and am thankful for the community of writers that I’ve met, whether seasoned in the craft or new to it. What we do together and for each other is important. Thank you all.

To all of you who moderated, administered the rules and checked up on us – you did such a good job!  It really helped to know that you were watching and reading, as well as doing your own writing.  You rock!

Why Is It Important?

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I haven’t been writing lately. I’ve been doing hard physical work in the yard, reading, walking, knitting. It’s been a bit of a holiday from electronic gadgets. It’s been nice but I have wondered why I’m not thinking of things to write and making myself follow up on them. Sometimes it takes so much effort to make meaningful statements about a rather ordinary life. I started thinking…

Why is this important at all?

Who cares?

Why this struggle to write?

And it was surprising to me when the same kind of question came up this morning in my study of the Bible. There is a chapter in Numbers that is a long list of places that the Israelite tribes camped over the 40 years they spent traveling around the deserts in the Sinai area. Probably over 30 records that go kind of like this “They left the desert of Sinai and camped at Kibroth Hattaavah. They left Kibroth Hattaavah and camped at Hazeroth.” and on and on. The question was  “Why was it important to record the stages in Israel’s journey to Canaan?” I wasn’t really sure why it was important and had to think about it. Imagine that, having to think…

The whole chapter reads a lot like something you’d find in public records today – place names and once in a while a fact or reference to a happening at that place.  To me that means it really occurred and is a historical record. Those people lived and they did that. And there was my answer, or one of them, as to why I write. It’s important to me to leave a record, whether or not I know it’s importance to anyone.  Numbers chapter 33 is not humorous, not really inspiring (well, maybe it is when you realize that 40 years of camping is really a LOT of camping), not much any variety of expression or word choice.  It’s about as lackluster as the details of my week’s activities.

I’ve come from a family of letter writers and journalers, some as far back as four or five generations.  Because of those writings, which I find very interesting, I don’t have to wonder what life was like for them, what they thought about, what their worries were, what kind of families they had, what hardships, what joys, what fun, what they believed and why. I find things in those letters that speak to me about who I am and who I want to be.  Only a few people have access to my family’s letters but there is an internet today that gives anyone with a computer access to what I write.  Who knows when it might be found interesting, or by whom?

The other reason it was important to record the stuff in Numbers 33 is because, as the author said, God told him to write it.  I guess we don’t always know why we’re told to do things, particularly when it’s God who does the telling.  I don’t hear God’s audible voice telling me to record that I cleaned the rain gutters on the house today.  What I am aware of is a lifelong love of writing things down and communicating them to others, an awareness that occasionally others affirm the worth of what I write. In a way that is a command to be using what I can do.  That’s why I get concerned when I don’t feel like writing, when I don’t know what to write.

You mean I have to write that!? No, please…

I’m just saying I wonder if the author of a book like Numbers felt the same way when he wrote chapter 33.

Read More

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As I continue on my path of becoming less of a nurse and more of a writer, I decided to attend a writer’s conference.  For me, writing takes  a lot of time.  Studying writing and learning about it takes even more time, which is why I don’t usually do much of it.  I know I should read more but life takes over.  I know I should read more but I fall asleep after about an hour of it (unless it is absolutely riveting).  I have a daughter who reads a lot and writes beautifully – she is the one who suggested I come to the conference, which she also will be attending.  I have a feeling that for three days we will be immersed in a world that is different from the one we normally inhabit.  I have asked myself, “how can I prepare for this?”   The voice in my head answered “By reading some of the books (untouched) on your shelf – stupid.”  My inner voice calls me stupid sometimes but I know it is said with affection and I don’t let it bother me.

I picked up a book this morning and read a poem that I liked.  I liked the way the author analyzed the poem too.  The book is “Praying through Poetry: Hope for Violent Times” by Peggy Rosenthal.  The poem is “The Translation of Raimundo Luz: My Imitation”

I sold my possessions, even the colorful pencils.

I gave all my  money to the dull. I gave my poverty

to the president. I became a child again, naked

and relatively innocent. I let the president have my guilt.

I found a virgin and asked her to be my mother.

She held me very sweetly.

I watched father build beautiful shapes with wood.

He too had a gentle way.

I made conversation in holy places with the chosen.

Their theater was grim.

I suggested they cheer up.  Many repented,

albeit elaborately.

I floated the wide river on a raft.

I set Jim free.

I revised every word.

One morning, very early, I was taken by brutes and beaten.

I was nailed to a cross so sturdy I thought

father himself might have shaped it.

I gestured for a cool drink and was mocked.

I took on the sins of the world and regretted my extravagance.

I gave up and died.  I descended into hell

and spoke briefly with the president.

I rose again, bloodless and feeling pretty good.

I forgave everything.  

-author, Scott Cairns

I want to write but,…

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I’ve started to write a couple of times lately and then had to delete sensitive material, leaving nothing worth posting.  There are times like this that if I wrote what I was doing I would have to lie about it, or kill all my readers. That would be very counterproductive.

I’ve been dealing with a lot of dirt this week, stuff you wouldn’t expect to find in high places, but there it is.  I have a very small portion of the world to oversee, but that doesn’t mean I take my job lightly.  I’m getting visitors this weekend, VIP’s, and making preparations for their comfort and safety and entertainment has been on my mind.  And three times this week I’ve met with a high ranking Navy officer to… there it is again, more of the stuff I can’t tell you.  And yet on the surface life looks so average, so normal.  Appearances are important.

Some day I’ll write a book and it will all be out there.  What a relief that will be.  Just sayin’…

New Year’s Rituals

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I don’t have many plans for midnight tonight.  In fact, I will probably be sleeping at work if my client has no inclination to stay up and watch TV.  Even looking at pictures of Times Square in NYC on TV gives me a severe case of claustrophobia – no way would I want to be there on New Year’s Eve.

But I do have one ritual for the New Year to which I have been pretty faithful.  Every year I get a new calendar book and during the first week of January I like to go through it and transfer all my important dates and addresses.  I like to page through the old one and notice what I wrote, what I did or didn’t do.  Even the weeks when I wrote nothing have significance  because I was probably too busy to write. If I can remember why I was so busy, all the better, and I put that in.  I try to find three of four really important happenings that I can transfer to my family timeline notebook.  I count it as a good investment to spend one day a year remembering what life has been like.  I often end up thinking “oh yeah, that was such a fun time and I had completely forgotten about it!” Looking back helps me get more mileage out of those precious moments of the past.

Someday, all these date books full of the appointments and thoughts of my life are going to be fertile ground for a book to spring out.  It might be a memoir, or something completely fictional – I haven’t figured that out yet.

my trusty companion in 2014
my trusty companion in 2014

This is my old datebook.  It’s one of the best priced ones I have found so I ordered a new one just like it for 2015.  It has a lot of useful information about the area where I live and enough room on each day to serve like a mini-diary or journal. It was sturdy enough not to get bent up or lose pages and it features a tear off corner that makes it easy to find the current page.  I ordered it from www.datebook.com. They have one for most metropolitan areas.

I’ll probably be working on my datebook tonight for a while, but the bigger project will be getting ready for Jack’s football party tomorrow.  That will definitely be the first priority.  Happy New Year everyone!

Could This Be You?

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wpid-20140831_174115.jpgDear 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.

Beep, beep, boop?

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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…)

the back of my eye
the back of my eye

– 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.

the Laundry twins, Hi and Dri
the Laundry twins, Hi and Dri

– 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…

Did. Not. Happen.
Did. Not. Happen.

– 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.

Good green
Good green
Bad green
Bad green

 

– 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.
Nature walk with my friends Arlette and God.

 

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