Jan 1, 2016 |
Do y’all know me? Do you know you how I like my stability and security? You do? So it’s a surprise then, right, that change is my word for the year? Maybe it should be perspective but that only allows for a view shift. I think change is more dynamically inclusive of the unknown or irregular. And it gets the heart beating a little better.
Yeah. It surprises me too. I’m the one who likes to know things. I can go with the flow only so long as I know where the flow goes.
Life is either a daring adventure or it’s nothing. ~Helen Keller
Change is fluid. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, this or that. It can be subtle or strong. What I’m sweetly discovering is change doesn’t always mean replacement. It can mean addition, alteration, shift.
My Penny Jar
I’ve traded up my small glass penny jar for a larger plastic bottle that holds more ~ coins and bills. I haven’t stopped my saving. I’ve amped it up. That’s a change I can get on board with.
Embracing change can also mean not embracing change. I’m a creature of habit and schedule. I’ll grow my hair to almost shoulder length and then once or twice a year have it cut short and sassy. This week, I chose to change by not changing. I had my hair trimmed and colored, but not cut. I changed my habit of changing.
A Perspective Change
Last weekend I replaced the calendar pages in my day planner. I stood on the desk chair for this photo. Did my calendar change? Was there different tea in my NOLA mug? Did those thumb drives leap to life with pages ready for print? No. You already know that. But my perspective changed. Taking a step back from the task at hand allowed me to view the larger picture of my goals and tasks for the upcoming year.
Some change is necessary. If I stick my roots down too firmly in the familiar, I won’t bend but I might break with the storms. I am reminded to stop fighting and be still.
“Stop forcing a catastrophe where there’s not even a storm.”
I’m embracing change this year because I’m ready for the adventure it brings. I’m ready to move beyond my comfort zone. I’m not changing everything, but I’m refusing to remain stagnant.
As I write this, it’s New Year’s Eve and I’m watching The Poseidon Adventure with Mom. Now there’s an adventure movie. It’s our usual NYE fare, a tradition for many years. This year, I’m watching it differently. It’s the same movie, but my viewing has changed. It’s Al Gansky’s fault. He referenced it in the Spirituality in Fiction episode of the Firsts in Fiction podcast. It created another perspective shift for me.
The survivors of the Poseidon have to change their perspective, or they won’t survive. (I’d say “spoiler alert,” but I’m thinking you already know this.) The ship is turned upside down and they have to venture up which is down to find their way out. The world is in chaos, but they work together. Some make it, some don’t. But it’s the ones who stuck to their stability in the beginning, who clung to the familiar even in disarray, who never even had a chance. They believed the ordinary was still working, and they died before our protagonists’ adventure began.
The survivors realize that change was thrust upon them, and they choose to work through it, even creating some of their own. Dependencies, relationships, and strengths are born through the adventure of finding their salvation.
So maybe I’ll take two words this year. Change and Perspective. I can have one without the other, but together, it’s going to be quite an adventurous year.
There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind. C.S. Lewis
And Frankly, My Dear . . . that’s all she wrote!
May 31, 2013 |
Frankly, My Dear… had a facelift. And a tummy tuck. And, well, pretty much a complete chassis overhaul. Inn’t she purtty? From the inner workings to the aesthetic design, I am overwhelmed at the difference between yesterday and today.
While yesterday I had a blog… today I have The Blog. Designed to tie in with the New Inklings Press website, FMD is growing up. I’m amazed at the difference a few subtle and not-so-subtle changes can make.
I’d love to say I had the help of a great web designer, but the truth is, I made a few suggestions and he ran with it. What you see is his doing. Completely. You’ve heard the expression, “Newer isn’t always better!”? That may be true for things like one-size-fits-all vitamins and synthetics vs. organics… but don’t you believe it about The Blog! Frankly, My Dear… has stepped out of the woods and into the light!
First Morning
I thought I might miss a few things about the old version. The formatting. The photo banner. The many categories and sub-categories and sub-sub-categories. Guess what…
I was wrong!
I don’t miss those things. At all. I see now how chaotic the design was; how distracting and at times either overwhelming or just “ehh…”
But now. Now it’s New. And I couldn’t be happier.
I just needed to get out of my own way and hand the reins over to One Who Knows and let him work his web magic. And I just had to give him a Great Shout Out for all his hard work!
I’d tried designing the Blog myself. I did my research. I viewed other blogs and websites. But I’m a writer. Not a designer. I had no idea how to code this or format that. I know words. This coding thing… yeah. I’m about as efficient as a fish holding a baseball bat.
But my designer. He gets it. He gets me. He gets design. As I live for the words, he lives for the codes. And Frankly, My Dear… we wouldn’t be here without him.
And now all things are new again.
Field of Dreams
I’m rediscovering my honest love for writing. Not just because it’s what I do. Not just because it’s who I am. Yes, it is and it is. But it’s also what I love. More than anything. And I can’t imagine ever doing anything else.
I received a wonderful email from a friend just this afternoon:
“I know how hard it is to will anything into existence (well, will and a lot of work)! … You have so much going on – just keep doing what you’re doing.”
And so I shall. Because I can’t not be surrounded by words.
When I was in 8th grade, I was in the School-Wide Spelling Bee. Yes, I was one of those students. Teachers called me “Quiet”. Teachers called me “Sweet”. And teachers called me “Smart”.
From a very young age, I knew that Words would be my Life. One way or another, no matter what else I did, writing would always be a part of me. And that meant knowing how to spell.
I was pathetically shy back then. I couldn’t look anyone in the eye unless my family was with me, and even then, notsomuch. That’s why I loved books. I could be a daring cliff-diver or a humble seamstress. I learned to ride horses, fly airplanes. I built the first campfire and knew how to time-travel. I did it all. Through books.
When I was in 8th grade, my English teacher didn’t like me. This was new territory for me. I mean, he really didn’t like me. He lived down the street. And he would make a point of stopping at our house, unannounced, and often on breaks or mini-holidays, to complain how poorly my brother and I were doing in our classes. Considering we both studied hard and received A’s and B’s in nearly every class but his… Considering he bent the rules for other students but not for us… Considering he tried to rummage through my purse before class even began… well, you get the picture. He just really didn’t like me.
And in 8th grade, he was one of the monitors for the School-Wide Spelling Bee. We were down to the Finals. There were ten students left. We lined up against the blackboards and one by one were tasked with correctly spelling out those words from a list that contained four-syllable combinations and homonyms and other great wordsmithing. It was my Personal Nirvana.
When my turn came, it was my English teacher from 7th grade who presented my word. She smiled widely as I spelled it out correctly. At least she liked me and wasn’t afraid to show it.
After nearly another round, I was four places down the line when The One Who Hated Me took the reins. “I’m going to do something a little different,” he said, looking hard at the list. His eyes lit darkly when he found what he was looking for. He looked at me and smirked. “I want to skip ahead to Molly.” The other teachers were puzzled. Was this in the rules? Can he do this? It seemed wrong. It seemed… personal.
I stood tall as he spoke. “Spell… ” and he gave me my word. I met his gaze. He had the satisfied look of one who has beaten another, that sneer of arrogance and pride.
I held his gaze without blinking. As I felt the injustice and anger rise inside me, I clenched my fists and through a delightfully fake smile I began to spell my word. “A-P-P…” I stopped to swallow, and gather my wits. I was meant for this. And I will not lose in spite of him.
I began again.
“A-P-P-R-E-C-I-A-T-I-V-E-L-Y.”
As I casually looked away, betraying the pounding in my heart and head, I caught the glimpse of The Good Teacher. I saw her smile affirmingly at me. A smile of “Atta girl!” and a glance toward him that warned he’d better not try that again. In another round, I was one of the Finalists. And he was Finished.
That’s a memory I used to want to forget. How someone, an authority figure, could without cause bring havoc and turmoil to a student’s life just for the sheer enjoyment he received from doing so… the world is often unbalanced and this was my first real taste. The shame and confusion he laid at my feet for me to pick up and carry with me throughout my student life and into early adulthood… Did I deserve this? Did I present myself in someway that he felt he had to bring me down to size? What was it that I did to make him try to fail me in class and in life?
And yet… it was that word. That word. One of the hardest word on our 8th grade Spelling Bee list. And I’m the one who got it right. That’s what I need to remember more. That even though he tried to pull me down, I fought back. I climbed. I succeeded.
Today, I’m very thankful for struggles. It’s so true that character is borne of hard times. I’m so very appreciative of those who have come alongside me and encouraged me, and yes, even challenged me. I’m thankful that my parents taught me to be gentle even in the midst of adversity. And I’m thankful for endurance.
“There are far, far better things ahead
than anything we leave behind.”
~C.S. Lewis
I’m aware of those pinnacle moments in life when I could have chosen a different path. I could have walked away from Words. I could have let The One Who Hated Me cause me to stumble but instead I chose to climb over the boundaries he set for me.
I learned that day that it’s not what others think I can do. It’s what’s inside that makes me who I am. The day of the 8th grade Spelling Bee cemented in my innermost being that I belong with Words. They are my children, my nightmares, my joys, my soulmates.
“I write for the same reason I breathe:
Because if I didn’t, I would die.”
~Isaac Asimov
I’m thankful for the barriers that have been placed for my protection. I’m thankful for the boundaries I can stretch. And I’m thankful that I know how to jump hurdles when necessary.
“Don’t Fence Me In.”
~Gene Autry
Expand Your Horizons
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Feb 26, 2012 |
Reading time: 2 days
What I loved best: All of it. Seriously.
This isn’t really a book review, because I can’t give much away for those who have yet to read it. Even in my other Narnian reviews, I gave a few things away.
I put off reading this, because it’s the last book in the series. And I knew it meant the end. In fact, the very first sentence starts, “In the last days of Narnia…”
It was very bittersweet to me. I just did not want my reading journey to end. Yes, they’re written as children’s books, but filled with wonderful quotes. Yes, I’m a mid-life mom, but I love fables and stories. Yes, I cried. A lot. I’m terribly sentimental, and just to know this was the last of new Narnian adventures for me made me sad.
But how it turned out… well… it’s Narnia. Full of wonderful, magical creatures. Daring adventures and battles. Lessons to be learned and characters to count on.
I can only describe it as Pure Joy, that I have finished the journey… and get to go again, any time I want.
C.S. Lewis is absolutely magical in his writing. There is no greater, more inspiring, ability than to take one’s breath away by the words you write. I recommend all the Narnia stories, but especially this one.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Feb 17, 2012 |
New Inklings Press is the name of my new company. My new company. My. Company.
wow.
I have a business license. A bank account. A binder to keep every bit of important paperwork. My website will be up and running within a few days. And today the local newspaper is running my Fictitious Business Name.
How. Awesome. Is. That?
I am now licensed to publish, edit, write; and get paid for it. Of course, these business steps didn’t enable me to be able to do so. I’ve been doing those things (minus the actual publishing) for quite some time now.
But it has given me a push.
A great direction.
A stinking huge neon sign that screams
YOU ASKED FOR IT. YOU GOT IT!!
Since I lost my job last July, I’ve been… well… let’s just say I don’t beautify myself like I used to. But all that changed when I filed for my business license.
Now I have a public purpose again. I have a reason to wear my red blouse and make-up. And it feels good getting Dolled up. It reminds me that I’m worth Dolling up for. Even if there wasn’t a company. Even if there wasn’t a Cookbook or Devotional Study or Poetry.
I’m worth the nail polish. I’m worth the coffee. I’m worth every ounce of effort that I pour into typing each day, reading each night, and observing every tiny detail I can.
A year ago I didn’t have a blog. Now I have a blog. A writing partner. A writing group. A company. A host of ideas. A website. A business.
I chose the name New Inklings Press to give homage to that great writer, C.S. Lewis. In the 1950s, he and J.R.R. Tolkien were part of a writing group called the Inklings. They used to meet in a booth in an old English pub. Since Megan and I do our best collaborating over a Denny’s lunch or Starbuck’s, I floated the idea of calling ourselves The New Inklings. She loved it!
It suits us. She loves Lord of the Rings the way I love Narnia. And we work well together. Their writings carry a Christian theme. So do ours.
Having the company gives me permission to keep doing what I love doing: Write.
And I have more on that subject, but you’ll have to wait til tomorrow. For now, I have a story to tell.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Feb 1, 2012 |
Reading Time: 3 days
[but admittedly, I started three weeks ago, read one day then didn’t pick it up again until yesterday.]
What I loved best: With each new adventure into Narnia comes new characters and creatures. Puddlegum was a great addition to the Children’s endeavors. (And with my current affinity for frogs, I loved his description which I believe to be part scarecrow, part frog). I also loved that Aslan kept showing the way, even when the characters were lost, or belligerent, or forgetful. He kept His patience, and continued to remind them of their important tasks.
The Lady and her magic are wonderfully displayed in Lewis’ description. As with the other Narnia tales, this story tells of one adventure from start to finish, but the little anecdotes and stories within the story make it a great read.
It portrays, as in real life, how hard it is to sometimes see Good vs. Evil: what you think is delightful turns out to be your downfall (remember Edmund’s desire for turkish delight in The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe?). It also has a great redeeming message that it’s never too late to do the Right Thing.
While most of the Narnia tales are somewhat predictable along the journey, this was a great book that had me guessing throughout the entire story of what I could trust by means of characters, settings, and even my own ideas. It’s definitely a great addition to the series.
