Back To The List

 

52. I like to be a little early for any type of appointment. That way I can relax and catch my breath before jumping into anything.

53. I am an abuse survivor and that makes a difference in everything I do, see, and think.

54. Survival makes you strong in places that others don’t know they need to be, but it also makes you aware of just how fragile life truly is.

55. I have very few regrets and I find that amazing.

56. Being a survivor, the Freedom to Choose is a basic cornerstone of my belief system. I try, very hard, to offer that to everyone I come in contact with, because I prize it so highly.

57. That means that I am constantly in need of checking my own actions toward others. I can manipulate as well as anyone else and am aware that the best I can do is curb that desire within me. I do succeed, but not always.

58. Honesty is also an important element for me. That stems from the past, but will continue to affect much of the way I see, do, and think. I don’t think that is a negative thing, I see it as a lesson with a great deal of value that only increases with time.

59. I think that each of us is here for a reason and a purpose. It might take an entire lifetime to discover what those are, but I don’t think there is much of value without that knowledge.

60. I would like to think that ice cream is a top priority for existence, but it just doesn’t ring true, you know what I mean?

61. I think one of the hardest things to do is to watch your children make some of the choices they must make to learn how to be whoever they will become.

62. Sometimes, the best support and encouragement one can give is to choose to keep ones mouth shut.

63. I will be 63 years old in April. When the hell did that happen?

64. Because of #63, I can say with complete and utter sincerity, that it is never too late for anything.

65. The possibility of feeling foolish, or looking silly is never a good reason to not attempt something. Better to look a fool than to be one.

66. Allowing oneself the opportunity to look foolish is usually the first step in learning something very important. Besides, it usually makes for a good story with shared laughter and that’s not a bad price to pay for doing so.

67. Symbolism exists all around us. If we fail to learn that language, we may miss at least half, if not more of our existence and its true meaning.

68. “That’s just the way things are and nothing can be done about it,” is the cry of a defeatist, but should be seen as a challenge to anyone who hears it.

69. I loved teaching, and was terrified that if I did it, I would look or appear to be foolish. I felt that way every moment I first stood in front of a classroom or group of people. I learned how to talk myself past that feeling.

70. I love words, their meanings, history, and uses. I seldom get the last one, which is probably why I love blogging so much.

My Fight With Red

In response to Claudette’s Challenge #2 The Art of Humility

Flamingo Dance

 

I have been coloring Mandalas and have mentioned that here and elsewhere. Although I love doing so, I also like a challenge. I wanted to do something more intricate then the simple designs I was finding on the Internet. Last week, I found a Dover book of Kaleidoscopic Designs by Lester Kubistal. It was just what I had been seeking.

My daughter came over yesterday and suddenly became aware of the many images I have been playing with. She really liked what she was seeing and started asking me if I’d do one for her with reds in it. I hemmed and hawed around and finally confessed that I have a great deal of trouble with the reds when coloring.

Red is the color of passion, but also of rage and anger. It is also the color of fire, warmth, and thus, creative energy. These are all things I know about and have written about and discussed for years. Yet, when it came to putting that color on paper it always seemed to fight me and the other colors. I had tried it many times and it just wasn’t working with or for me.

So, I had been sort of ignoring it. Using other friendlier colors. Ones that would lay down and do what I expected and definitely play nice with all the other hues I was toying with. In the back of my mind, I knew I would eventually have to confront this peculiar dilemma, but for the moment I really just wanted to enjoy what I was doing in peace. So I have been substituting the rust tones for the reds, making up excuses why they just work better with the blues and greens.

However, my daughter’s enthusiasm and eagerness brought the pending confrontation to the fore immediately. So I admitted to her that I just didn’t fully comprehend the function of red, in the scheme of things. It wouldn’t cooperate with me, so I wasn’t using it. I think that’s called spite and avoidance.

After she and her friends left, I got out one of my new designs and decided to take the plunge. I put two different shades of red at the very center of the design because that would mean that it would need to be repeated if  the design was going to work at all. Kaleidoscopes work on color and mirror images of those colors.

I have learned a great deal by engaging in this activity that is seen as child’s play. Although I took four years of Art in high school, and was even the teacher’s assistant in my senior year, I had never really learned about colors and how they interact on and affect one another. That may seem a bit incomprehensible, but I had a good beginner’s eye for color and that sufficed for most of my art activities. Until a few months ago when I began doing this thing with the entire spectrum of possibilities.

This has been a learn as you go process for me. But one of the most important lessons I have learned is that mistakes are not necessarily mistakes. They can be new paths opening up right in front of me. New ways of seeing things, and new movements to be tried. And yesterday, after admitting my ignorance, I did all of those things.

About half way through, incredibly pleased with what was coming alive beneath my fingers, I made a choice that could have been disastrous to the design and this new wrestling with the color red. One of the problems with laying down red is that its so difficult to cover up. It has a tendency to bleed into anything one might use to mend the image and quickly becomes a muddy mess. But there I was, half way through this wonderful little jewel of an image and there was red, sticking her tongue out at me and giving me a really loud raspberry to boot.

I refused to quit and throw out all of that work. I do know one thing, black will cover anything and still remain black. So I raspberried right back at red and she was so shocked she actually cooperated with my ongoing efforts. She became, if one might say it, compliable with my efforts. I really like the outcome and learned another valuable lesson.

It’s perfectly okay to admit out loud that you’ve made a mistake. The only thing that stands in the way of that is pride. Pride is the direct opposite of humility and humility steps up to bat when pride is lowered or even given the out signal. I can be grateful to my daughter for bringing my dilemma to the forefront. I can be grateful that I finally admitted that I was having problems and also avoiding them, and in doing so, exiling myself from the full spectrum of my own experience.

Perhaps that means that humility is really the color black. Able to absorb all other colors, yet toss them back again for better choices. Able to cover the worst mistakes and open up new doors of possibility. I like that and really love what I do, when it finally all fits together and makes something beautiful that didn’t exist before. Red and I may never become bosom buddies, but we at least now, have the beginnings for a multitude of new adventures and future engagements.

Metaphorically Speaking

By attempting to write poetry, I have learned that the use of metaphors is an excellent way to explore and find better and deeper understanding, to enhance and enlarge ones awareness and perceptions. When we attempt to compare apples to oranges, we open new doors, find unusual views that might not have occurred to us in the past. I have used several metaphors here, to better express the wealth of advantages open to anyone who would attempt to keep a daily record of his, or her, experience.

The word record is itself a metaphor for a journal, if you consider what the word suggests: keeping a tally, a running list, or simply a written report. But what about how the word pertains to music and the music industry. Then a journal might become the songs one sings on a regular basis, be they blues, rap, folk, country, jazz, classical, alternative, or rock and roll, and so many others. And each one of those could be a specifically different view, and a rich mine to explore the manner in which one moves through life, and actually becomes aware of self and the world which surrounds that self.

A metaphor is a figure of speech, meant to open creative avenues of thought, even inspiration. They are difficult only when not attempted. Trying to think them through is hard work, but when committing them to paper, thus giving them form and shape while writing them out, we slow down the thought process and often find golden nuggets along the path we are traveling. It is always amazing to me how just trying to compare one thing to another seems to open channels and avenues that have never been explored, even less considered, or thought about.

Today, I’m going to challenge you with a list of metaphors. Some, I have already used in different articles of this blog. Others will be new and different. Go through the list, find one or two that appeal to you, and are somewhat familiar to your own experience. Then make your own metaphor for how you feel, see, and think about keeping a journal.

1. Unraveling thread from a skein.

2. Tying and untying knots in fishing line.

3. Walking along a beach.

4. Making or viewing a movie.

5. A soundtrack, the songs that would best underscore the theme.

6. Speech writing.

7. Driving your car.

8. Learning a new language

9. Gardening

10. Writing fiction

11. Baking a cake, or writing out a recipe

12. Sewing from a pattern

13. Fly-fishing

14. Bird-watching with Binoculars

15. Picking pickles, then canning same.

16. Cleaning one room in your house

17. Looking for a new home

18. Letter writing

19. Bill paying

20. Exploring a yet unexplored island

21. Creating a cure for cancer

22. Dancing alone, or with a partner

23. Singing in the Sunday choir

24. Falling in love

25. Waxing the car, or the kitchen floor

This is a pretty rich list and perhaps, for you, as it has for me, suggests others that might better serve your purpose. Choose one and compare it to your own experience of keeping a journal. It is best to compare using something you already have a good knowledge about. So, if I haven’t given you something that you do have more than a passing comprehension of, by all means, choose one that suits your expeirince . And in the process of making your own metaphor, keep track of those new perspectives that open before you.

Metaphorically speaking, I hope you find that secret gold mine and begin to dig and work the rich veins that have accumulated over time, waiting only for that shovel you alone may carry. If you do, I further hope that you come back and share your new found wealth with the rest of us. We’ll be digging our own tunnels, but will stop long enough to celebrate with you. Remember to always carry a lantern, and if you run low on the fuel that keeps it burning, I have an extra large supply I am willing to share with you. Good luck and prosper at your prospecting.

As for me, I’m going to go listen and watch David Cook, who has become a living, breathing metaphor for the Hero’s Journey and renewing the American Dream.

Opposite Sides And Another Challenge

I truly like to hear at least two sides of an issue before making a decision. In my last blog, I wrote about why we have difficulty with admitting that we don’t know certain things. I knew when I finished, that I would need to address the other side of that issue and speak about what we do know. Synchronistically, I wandered onto a blog, titled What I Know For Sure, http://beccasbyline.wordpress.com/ in which the author tells her readers that she found her source in O Magazine. She goes on to write out a list of things, she knows for sure at the present moment. Then asks her readers to do the same. I didn’t know how to comment, decided to let it digest for a while, and went back and posted my response yesterday.

Then promptly knew what I would write about today. And also knew (I had to have time to digest, remember), how it might be even more difficult to write about what we know, than it is to write about what we don’t know. It’s that carving a thing in stone, I have already written about, doubly difficult in a time and world where the only thing one can be sure of is change. But, I have a friend who started taking carving lessons some time ago, and she assures me that anything, even something carved in stone, can be changed. She knows that because she has done it, not with stone but in wood. She speaks of first hand knowledge, gained through personal experience. She knows what she knows.

As do each of us. Granted, it is of utmost importance to come to know what we don’t know, that is a distinct step in the learning process. But, if we get so comfortable with what we do know, we may someday take it so much for granted, that we actually forget what we know. We must keep using what we know or suffer the consequences. That was the reason I had to pause and allow myself to catch up with the idea of writing out what I know for sure. I know it because I have been practicing it and discovering the truth buried inside of what I know. It works, because I have used it many times with the same outcome.

Which leads me to the challenge in the title of this blog. I intend to paste some of my response to Becca’s request right here on the page. But, again, because I am a cook who can’t just follow a recipe blindly without adding some of her own spice to the mix, I am going to change the parameters a bit. One of the reasons, I paused, is because I am 62 years old. That’s a whole lot of knowing. I was immediately intimidated by the prospect of trying to make some clear choices from all of that information. So, when I started making my comment, I did it with a certain age and processed from there. This is the challenge: write out what you know starting with your age ten years ago. For each year of those ten, put down one thing that you know from that time period in your life, and expand as needed. Something you learned to be true within your own experience. I will start my own response a little before that and you may use it as an example, add your own spice as you feel led. If you wish, you may come back and put any, or all of it in the comments below.

What I know for sure:

I know that fifty was one of the best years of my life. Two of my children got married, and I was present and helped in the birth of my first granddaughter. One of my poems was the anchor piece for an anthology that was nominated for a Grammy Award, in the Spoken Word category, and I flew, alone, to San Francisco to meet an online friend for the first time, and to go “shopping” on the beach of the Pacific Ocean.

I know that at fifty-one, the heart of my life went out of it, and my world, as I knew it, disappeared forever.

Thus, I know, that genuine love can be the most painful experience one can ever encounter.

I know that grief is stepping off a cliff and descending, seemingly forever, through a darkness that doesn’t want to end.

I know that love, pain, and grief must be expressed or sicken the individual who would choose not to do so.

I know, in turn, that that all takes time, as much time as the individual needs without being told to “just get over it and move on.”

I know that we must each tell our story again and again until we don’t need to anymore because the story has been healed and we can move on.

I know that every single human being needs a means of expression, and that I will use whatever strength I own to encourage that.

I know that laughter heals more and far faster than any other element.

I know that sometimes life gives us a second chance, and we must let our hearts lead us, or risk that chance altogether.

I know that when I listen to someone else’s advice, it is wise to know that most people are speaking to and of themselves and might not really know about what they speak.

I know that teaching another what I know is the best way to learn anything. That students have far more to teach the teacher than she might have to teach them, just as children must teach their parents.

I know that I am a survivor because I am 62 and am still breathing.

I know that if tomorrow comes, I will greet it with eagerness and a gratitude that grows with each moment I am given.

And this last one, you will have to go read Becca’s Byline to understand:

I know that a dog is a symbol of loyalty. No matter, he is rejected, neglected, ignored, or even abused, he will come back and offer his steadfast presence and his joy, if allowed to do so. And that, in turn, is a god that I can believe in.

Have fun, and by all means, write.

One Moment

11/5/08

We have a new president today, Barack Obama. Each of us has partaken in a distinct moment of history in this past twenty-four hours. We, all together, have opened a new door of possibilities, not just for ourselves, but for each other. We have finally shown ourselves to be what we have always said we were: a melting pot of diverse cultures, ethnicity, where all are welcome and given a chance to live differently and with freedom. We have finally been awakened to the reality of possibilities and the changes such an attitude may bring. We might want to take a moment and mark this one down. Let ourselves think about what this momentous experience means to our own personal attitudes, beliefs, and everyday experience.

Are we up the challenge? Can we be open enough, within our own minds and hearts, to greet this moment as a good place to begin living in a new manner? One that is freer, than any before it, in a nation that is firmly imbedded in the concept of freedom, or at least states repeatedly that it is. Not long ago, we all together, honored the loss of innocence we, as a nation, underwent on 9/11. Now, we have collectively chosen to take a new step toward replenishing and refilling that gap of ignorance such innocence reveals. We can’t go back and undo that other experience, no matter how much we may desire such a thing. All we can do is learn from that past experience. This is our opportunity.

Will we grasp this opportunity to prove that we are no longer ignorant, therefore vulnerable? Take it for the opportunity it is, to learn the lessons we need to grow away from even more ignorance, toward a future strength that is not based in right through physical might, but one that has been tempered in the crucible and pain of that loss? A strength born out of healing, rather than retaliating in bitterness and further anger? Will we, each one of us, take the time, this one moment, to examine one small thing we can do, today, to show that we will move forward, take this momentous opportunity to become one degree more of what we say we are, and less than what we have shown ourselves to be?

With these words, I have proclaimed that I, as one individual, intend to stand up, to take this moment to risk being visibly counted as one who truly believes, that together, we can be better than we have ever been. Will you?

A Not So Brief Challenge

This is a meme, a writing prompt, an exercise I have found on several blog cites lately. Each one is distinctly different because it is flavored with the individual’s own voice and honesty. It fascinates me, and so I brought it back here and want to present it as a challenge to you. I have tried to make it easy to copy and paste onto another page to make it as comfortable as possible. You simply use each prompt to begin a brief statement about your own person. There are no wrong answers, no bad ones either. It is simply an encouragement to get on the page. I will do the exercise by filling out the statements as they pertain to the writing of this blog, and you may erase those answers before beginning with your own. My response is only meant as an example, while you, of course, are free to answer across the entire spectrum of your experience.

I am: deeply grateful that I found and began to do this blog.

I think: it is a challenge fitting my skills and abilities.

I know: that I couldn’t have done it just a few years ago.

I want: to encourage as many people as possible to find the things I have found in personal writing.

I have: wanted to do this for a long time.

I wish: I had trusted myself to do it years ago.

I hate: the idea that so many people have been discouraged, dismissed, ignored, even punished for seeking to explore the realm of their own person in this manner.

I miss: not hearing comments from so many who come here. I really do want to hear what you think, and feel, about all or any part of this.

I fear: not being able to sustain what I have begun, for any reason.

I feel: that I have finally found the comfortable niche that was carved out for me before I was born.

I hear: the sound of my computer keys clicking and it is music, tempered by the background noise of the fan that I keep on most days to circulate the air.

I smell: the fading scent of my own perfume, and the sweet breath of a whole lot of ideas.

I crave: Cedar Crest Mackinac Island Fudge Ice Cream

I search: constantly for words that will allow me to express all of this.

I wonder: occasionally, if I’m crazy, preaching to the choir, or just in love with the sound of my own voice.

I regret: having listened for years to those voices that told me I think too much, can’t always have what I want, am foolish, have nothing of value to offer or say, and am far from adequate.

I ache: for anyone who has ever been told repeatedly that they should remain silent to accommodate someone else’s feelings.

I care: about a great many things, one of them is the need for self-expression.

I always: get scared just before I click the button marked Publish.

I am not: anywhere near as afraid as I used to be.

I believe: that the more people who become aware of their own inner workings and actually deal with them, the better the world will be.

I dance: on paper.

I sing: poetry

I cry: far more easily than ever before and see it as a signal rather than a weakness.

I don’t always: come here knowing what I’m going to write.

I fight: with words, they are my weapon of choice

I write: every morning as soon as I awake.

I never: will be perfect, nor consciously stop learning.

I stole: the time to write for many years, now give it to myself as the ultimate gift of freedom

I listen: to others when they ask because I know how important it is to be heard

I need: my daily journal

I am happy about: the fact that this is the last prompt and I am finished.

Because I am the kind of cook who can never simply follow a recipe, but must add some of my own spice to the mix, I have a few suggestions. First is that I want to add more prompts to this list:

I am curious about:

I would like to investigate:

I find:

I used to:

I remember:

I speak:

I meditate:

I communicate:

I trust:

I get sad:

I am enlightened:

I need to learn:

I lack:

I am strong:

Okay, those can be optional. Add them if you like, or feel so inclined. And now that I have done the exercise in my own fashion, I would like to ask that you first do it while focusing on the topic of writing, especially about journal writing. That is what this blog is all about so we might as well stay with the topic. When you have finished, choose two or three of the prompts to share with the rest of us and put them and your completed statements on the comments below (again, optional).

Have fun, and write.

Addendum to previous instructions: I have created another page, on the sidebar for any and all responses to the I am statements in the challenge. Please click on Responses to A Not So Brief Challenge and put your I am statements in the area for comments. You can post as many as you like. Thanks.

Brief Challenge

I have company coming this morning, a friend I haven’t seen in over a year. So, instead of writing my usual verbose blog, I am sending out a challenge. Can you tell me, in three sentences or less, how you feel, think, or respond to the idea of keeping a journal? You may know immediately what you want to say, that’s good. You may use anything I’ve written here as a starting point. You may feel a bit frisky or creative. If so, be my guest, write a poem, a haiku, a limerick, whatever. Leave your response in the comments after this blog. I’ll get back to you.

Extended Metaphor

My last blog, the story of the little seed, was an extended metaphor. A metaphor is a comparison of two unlike objects. The comparison is meant to bring about a deeper understanding of the compared object. An extended metaphor is simply what is says, an extended form (longer version), of the comparison. In that former blog, I compared the words we write to the little seed growing in its plot of ground. But, there is another metaphor that could be applied.

That little seed can easily be compared to one individual life. The growth process, described within the story, can easily be compared to our own personal experience. We come to life, wrapped tightly within our own narrowed view of how the world works (preconceived notions), and our own place within that world. Each experience we encounter can and does challenge us to grow stronger, a bit wiser, so that we can flourish within whatever environment we find ourselves.

The diverse elements within that environment: the sun, wind, rain, night, darkness, furred and feathered creatures, are opportunities to learn, to grow, and develop the strength necessary to carry us even further. All of it is a learning process, and we can choose to learn, to grow, or to be diminished or devoured by such encounters. And, just as in the story, any growth is really hard work. It may seem, especially in childhood, that growth is simply a natural force that happens without our permission. We eat, quench our thirst, and we grow.

There is a danger in that sort of thinking. It could mean that when we reach adulthood, we assume we have arrived and can put our energies into something else other than the growth process. Remember, that little seed had only made it through the first day and night of his process. He still had a long way to go to fruition. Do we ever really arrive?

I hope not. I want to continue to grow and bring forth fruit until my very last breath. That is one of the reasons I am here, writing these words. I don’t know it all, but I certainly intend to keep striving for just that end. And yes, my words are the seeds I plant on the path of my own journey. That in turn, brings me back to my original extended metaphor. The words I write are a challenge to myself to continue to grow and to learn. They are my friends like the sun, the wind and the rain. They can also be those four-leggeds that come snuffling out of the darkness, hungry and seeking to satisfy their own needs. But, if I truly want to grow, I must learn how to deal with each and every one of them. It is very hard work, and it is done one word at a time, one seed dropped here and there.

My daily writing facilitates whatever growth process I am engaged in. In that sense, it is the food I use to sustain me on my journey. Whatever seeds I plant can also be the sustenance used by other fellow travelers along that path. I don’t particularly like vegetables, prefer fruit. But some of my words are definitely of the leafy green and starchy variety. That’s okay, I’ve learned enough to know that a balanced diet is far more conducive to growth than any other. Some days, I write nothing but vegetables and simply hope that those snuffles I hear, coming my way from the shadows ahead, are the sounds of vegetarians, not carnivores.