Getting back on track

Write about a “plate of sunshine”:


I once had a plate of sunshine, but I ate it.


Okay, so that was short. So…what to write, what to write? My brain is rusty, my fingers fumbly, my soul anxious for words, for expression that I want to unfold. But why? What is this thing in me that needs to write, to make electronic expression of my thoughts, emotions? Is it odd or ironic that I find it impossible to put that desire into words? Ha! I am speechless over my need to speak. Hmph. Either way, I found myself searching through prompts and came across the above and, well, you see how far I got.

A few images come to mind in the “plate of sunshine” vein: sunshine snacks on a plate, pancakes with cut strawberries outlining it sugary perimeter, sugar cookies with yellow sprinkles, or even just a plate full of food that was made with cheery disposition. I even had a weird image of me on a plate due to a nickname I had a lifetime ago. But, like I said, my mind is a bit rusty, so the images stopped there – no story or even funny little anecdote.

I think, no, I know I forget that writing is not just a talent, it is a discipline. I have some incredibly talented friends, some who write enrapturing novels and others who write beautiful songs, and I allow myself to be lazy in writing because it seems as if it comes so naturally to them. This is not to say that they don’t work, I know they do. Nevertheless, there does seem to be this mystique around their creations that I seem to fall so short of in my own writing. And so, instead of practicing, I shrug my shoulders and say “you either got it or you don’t” and let myself off the hook.

However, I do believe it is time that I am honest with myself: I could be a lot better if I were more disciplined. If I treated writing like any other skill, I could grow it and strengthen it. I must also admit however, that there is a bit of fear there as well: what if I’m wrong. As long as I don’t push myself, I can use that as an excuse. The silly (and sometimes pathetic) notion that if I don’t try, there’s no way I can fail. It’s science after all, and you can’t fight science, right?  No more.  Today is the day it ends and I get crackin'.

To all those that encourage this little literary release of mine, thank you. I will now do my part and be more diligent in honing my skill…and this time, I mean it.

Staying Positive

Blessings are those things that make life worth while, yet they are also those things that we can overlook or  easily forget, especially those small blessings that fill the spaces between “major” life events. I know that I am guilty of focusing on the task at hand or the latest thing to go wrong (which is even worse) instead of keeping my mind on the good things that happen. I have an FB friend who continually posts “Stay Positive” and even went so far as to explain that it wasn’t just a flippant saying but truly a way of life.

This is my dad and me staying positve.

When I am faced with seeing things positively or negatively, I generally feel that things will work out and that, in the end, the good outweighs the bad. I must confess, however, that this school year, I have found that I am loosing sight of the big picture and am allowing myself to indulge in wading in the negative side of things. A puddle of pessimism if you will, which, left unchecked, will grow. Here I am, checking myself. And not in that downward spiral being negative on myself for not being more positive kind of way, but in the truly staying positive with real life evidence to back it up kind of way.

This idea of literally counting my blessings has been rolling in my head for a bit now and his reminder of lifestyle over tagline boosted me to create a list of blessings. The idea being akin to daily bread, you know, as in “give us this day…” and focusing on the small, could-possibly-fall-through-the-cracks kind of tidbits that I am privy to on a daily basis. Although it is true that there will be days that I am bowled over by Heavenly favor (which really, shouldn’t I be everyday when I actually consider all that God has given me), the main focus of this “track” sheet will be to remind myself of the good things, even on the days that feel like they are plotting against me.

So, I've decided to have this open for viewing. I strive to be Pathologically Optimistic; the daily posts will be similar to the “high/low” game, you know, without the low. I hope you enjoy and feel inspired to do something similar. I would also love if you shared your highlight of the day with me.

An Open Letter

To Those Who Create:


Thank you.

For your bravery and generosity to share a piece of yourself, thank you. For your words, songs, images, thank you. For your inspiration, thank you.

There are so many distractions and stresses in this world, it so nice to be reminded of its immense beauty. Sometimes the beauty is from the ashes, but there is beauty just the same. Other times it is a matter of capturing a moment of pure bliss that reminds us of the capacity for joy in life.

It is a brilliance to see this yourself, and (as corny as it may sound) it is a gift when you let the world in on your view of things. Whether that perspective is melodic or seen through a viewfinder, it is unique. It is art and, more profoundly, a window to the artist.

So much is told about a photographer by the focus of her photos, her portfolio. What an insight song lyrics can give to a your history and philosophy. How telling it is that you can write about stories and observations that add laughter to the lives of your friends (and subscribers). I am blessed to have so many selflessly creative friends who put it all out there. You expose so much of yourself in the quest to share your creations and that is down right noble.

It is not an easy thing to put your work out there, so, once again I thank you.

Sincerely,
One Who Has Been Inspired

PS. I know the 'thank you' is a little vague, but follow the links to see, read, listen to the details.

Musing....The "Emo"

They say (in the proverbial sense) that weather has a lot to do with one’s emotional state of being: the idea that there are more depressed people in gloomy climates than in tropical ones, yadda, yadda. Perhaps this is true, perhaps not. Personally, I pull for the idea that emotional well-being is a state of mind that one controls oneself; however, it must be noted that this is not an impenetrable tower. One can be infected, as it were, by surrounding persons. I say this because there are days where I feel as though my noble intentions of being upbeat are dashed by some of my students’ teenage melancholy, as if their “emo” were infectious.


Now, I am not going to blame all my sour days on these walking Mood Swings; after all, I do have my own days of walking up on the wrong side of the world. I will, however, say that being surrounded by heightened emotions all day, every day, begins to wear on me. Stupid things that I can normally blow off suddenly seem catastrophic. An ignored email (phone call, text, what have you) that would normally be attributed to a busy life becomes a conscious decision to send me a message. My already analytic brain goes into hyper-drive, and I must make myself take a step back. I determine to have a good week and this nagging, melodramatic nonsense vies to get in.

It is frustrating.

It is work to push it back.

But I am taking a stand. I say no to the “emo," regardless of how many of its carriers sit in my classroom. True, it is harder to pull someone up than down, but harder does not equal impossible. If I can catch a bad mood, surely I can spread a good one.

Now, if I can just avoid catching “the dumb” that has been making its way 'round school...

Cereal and Beer: A Philosophy

So, about a month ago now, a friend was staying with me, and during this time, said friend went “grocery shopping” (why the quotation marks, just wait) and brought back cereal and beer. That’s it. Granted, this was not a permanent residence, so I wasn’t expecting bags of produce and such, but it still struck me as funny that these two items were deemed essential. I even laughed a little. Now, upon reflection, I realize just how Zen this is. Not because I have an affinity for beer – anyone who knows me knows I detest the stuff (even if it does have a hint of blueberry) – but the philosophy behind it is quite brilliant. Stay with me on this…

I am a list-making, goal-oriented, gold-star kind of gal. The plus side of this is that I tend to get things accomplished. I mean, I wouldn’t have my awesome career or the ability to take care of myself without being this kind of person. Being left to my own devices as a kid (as long as I wasn’t burnin’ the house down anyway), I had the choice of either taking on the big picture or letting my life get away from me - even if the responsible decision felt overwhelming at times.

The downside is that I have lists, goals, and gold-stars dictating my idea of should. When I go to the grocery store, I should get list of fruits and veggies, water, meats, etc. I mentally plan meals or at least the basics to throw a meal together. This is not bad per say; it can even be argued that there’s purpose in it. The inherent problem, at least for me, is that I convince myself that I have a lot of “essentials” that are not, in fact, essential. I also get it into my head that I have to have the whole thing figured out ahead of time - the idea that if I don’t know where I’ll end up, my first step is futile at best, disastrous at worst. Admittedly, this is a little dramatic for groceries, but I do hope you’re following the metaphor.

So, how does the beautiful combination of cereal and beer come into play? One is a want, the other a need. Perfect balance. This does not negate my desire for purpose in life, but it does help with my ever continuing search for perspective and overall enjoyment in life. In actuality, it helps this quest for purpose by slowing things down and taking one task at a time. Perhaps the new question (or heck, even list) I pose will be this: what is one need I have and what is one want? Fulfill a need and a want then move on to the next thing. Keep the big picture somewhere in the background, but maintain a clear focus on the small steps that make up the journey. Who knew I’d ever get so much out of beer?

A bit of fiction

I have an itch to write, but so frazzled with other agendas in my life, I could not think of a solid idea – I just knew that I was letting myself get rusty again, falling into the trap of letting teacher work get in the way of personal work (and development quite frankly).  Luckily I came across this prompt: show a dirty room without using those words.  Well, here it goes...

When my third entreaty to get inside was ignored, I decide to open the door and go in anyway.  This is easier said than done as I find resistance from the discarded bills, fliers, and other mounded collection of useless advertisements.  With a little more force, however, I manage my way in and immediately try to suppress a gag as my sense of smell does not need the same time to adjust as my eyes.

When the room does come into focus, my mind is racing to keep up, to take in how this place has changed in just a few short months.  The same pictures hang on the wall, but are now laden with dust.  This same film has also painted every other surface in sight.  I shudder to think at what the shag carpet is now housing.  I force myself to continue, creating a makeshift pathway through the once pristine living room, knowing I'll have to go all the way to the den to find him.  Most likely he'll be in that chair of his that has balded from use.  The closer I get to the den, the more the smell of rotting food and poor hygiene prick at my eyes and lump in my throat.

Once I make my way to the den, I fully take him in before he notices me, giving me time to see the greasy hair, the week old stubble, and the frail, arthritic hands clinging to a now tattered picture. I doubt those hands have really held anything else since she's been gone.  When his watery eyes finally meet mine, I force out a very thin, almost choked, "Oh, Dad."


[Okay, so I veered a bit from just the room, but I wrote; that is an accomplishment today.]

Fasting Revelation

Last week was my church’s Seek Week and it’s no misnomer. The church staff and attendees alike are to actively seek God’s direction for the church through fasting and prayer. Instead of having some textbook ten year plan, each year is planned one at a time. This is my third Seek Week at RockHarbor. In the past, I have prayed for the church during that week, when the emails that were sent out reminded me anyway. Even then, the prayers were more for the leaders and said as a “good for them for doing this” kind of sentiment.

This year, however, I knew I needed to be a little more pro-active. This year I would actively pray and fast. Now, I have fasted before in my life. I have fasted chocolate or soda or TV for a specified amount of time. I have even gone without food for 36 hours (not as easy as it sounds). This has been my history. So when I decided I would abstain from all solid foods from Sunday to Friday, I had little confidence of my success. Thankfully, that rarely stops me these days, so I proceeded.

The week was not fun. Anyone who knows me knows just how much I love food and the act of eating. Some have even witnessed my good-food-happy dance. I am sure my students, had they known I was fasting, would have asked me to eat because I was, shamefully, a bit cranky. I was even tested. Tuesday morning, my dear friend and colleague sent a few glazed twisty doughnuts to my classroom, you know, just because. I resisted. My Bible study, which has been snack free for a while, had goodies galore that night (a freshly baked apple pie included). Again, I resisted.

So, by the time Friday rolled around, I was seriously hoping…okay, expecting a grand revelation. I think my thoughts went something like this: “Um, not to be pushy God, but do you have a divine epiphany you’d like to share with me? After all, I haven’t eaten solid food all week.” And then it dawned on me: I hadn’t eaten solid food all week. The "happy dance for food" girl. The "plan my vacations and activities around food" girl. I had this great peace about life. More than that, I realized that God had answered my prayer.

A couple months ago, I had one of those great moments alone with God where I felt we had a great conversation. During this conversation, I asked God to show me how to live out Him being my sustaining force, not in the churchy abstract way, but in a real life, this is who I am kind of way. I am a tangible person, so I guess I was asking for some type of palpability from God.

For me, the palpability came in the very real hunger pangs and slight but persistent fatigue. More importantly, it came in the success of fasting for a week, knowing that on my own I wouldn’t last half a day. When I was weak, He was my strength, when I was agitated, He nudged me towards patience.

His grace brought me through in a truly "real life" way. I thanked Him for this. And yes, I thanked Him (quite passionately) when I was able to sink my teeth into the best Western Bacon Cheeseburger ever. There may have even been a bit of happy food dance involved.