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an everyday life

an everyday life

Tag Archives: Writing

Hovercrafts

16 Friday Jul 2010

Posted by Janell in Far Away Places, Life at Home, Writing

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Everyday Life, Iowa Summer Writing Festival, Travel, Writing

I’m in the midst of four hovercrafts this morning — one husband, one Scottie and two gigantic poodles.

All four are quiet as they keep close watch over my doings.  The poodles don’t like that suitcase one bit — a packed suitcase is nothing but bad news.  But all four watch silently, as they follow my progress.  The poodles solemnly;  my husband just to ensure that all goes well with my last-minute packing.

My husband has been in and out of the house more times than I can count.  His usual routine is no more than twice before lunch.  But today, it’s four or five times at least.  And invariably, just as I have needed his assistance, I hear him coming through the back door.  Heaven sent I’m sure.

The dogs are close by, within eye’s-reach.  Max is parked right behind me, in his very favorite hidey hole.  Part of me wishes I could bunker in with him, rather than go off on my own explore to Iowa.  It’s hard to leave my sweet home behind, the place that happens to be my favorite spot in the whole entire world.

But, here I am, packed and ready.  Physically, at least.  Mentally, I’ve got loose-ends rattling in my brain relating to that final writing project for my spiritual direction coursework.  Wish I had finished.  But alas, all I have is a good first-draft.  I’ll take it with me and maybe I’ll work on it tonight.

I really don’t want to work on it once classes begin tomorrow morning.  When I show up for something, I show up.  I try hard to be present wherever I am, to be undivided as much as I can.  So my final spiritual direction project will need to simmer on the back burner once classes begin.

As I look forward to the week, I wonder what will come of this great writing adventure.  Will I be able to write without my faithful poodle muse?  Only one way to find out:  Crawl off on that scary edge and fly away.

Fly Paper Moon

12 Monday Jul 2010

Posted by Janell in Life at Home, Writing

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Tags

Everyday Life, Iowa Summer Writing Festival, Writing

Here I stand, on the brink of a week-long writing adventure in Iowa.

Without nerves, without excitement, I pulled out paperwork this morning, filed away last March, to see what it  was I was supposed to have submitted in advance.

Ah, yes.  Two pieces; one for each class.

So no nerves.  No excitement.  But guilt?  Yes, I feel guilt at not spending more time in preparation.  At the same time, as I wonder what this writing retreat will bring, I’m haunted by words written twelve days ago, in response to a good friend’s encouraging word on my writing:

“You are way too kind about my writing.  It is good therapy; nothing much more these days.  I do very little polishing.  What comes out is pretty much what sticks, as if I’m writing on fly paper.  I’ve little energy for much more.”

And there lies the source of my guilt:  My husband has granted me this most wonderful gift — footing the bill with both money and his time, staying home to keep our household going — shouldn’t I at least feel a little energy about going?  Is it too much to expect a little excitement?  And shouldn’t I give my writing a little more thought and consideration, than throwing words at fly paper?

Well, this morning I tried.  This morning I thoughtfully edited an old blog post about Daddy to satisfy that first class requirement — and then before I could edit it to death, I pasted it in an email and fired it off to Iowa by internet.

But here’s the rub — I think I like the unvarnished truth more than the polished, shortened piece I sent.  Maybe my preference for the not-too-polished goes back to who I am — someone comfortable living with unfinished loose ends, someone who prefers to ‘keep it everyday real and simple.’   Or maybe my preference for the unvarnished stems from the same reasons I prefer candid photos over posed shots.

The piece I edited was one of my favorites about Daddy; last year’s “Good Night, Moonshadow” has now become, with shorter and tighter prose,  “Dusty Halos”.

Who knows but maybe there will be room to ‘workshop’ both “Paper Moons?”

Dusty Halos

A lovely crescent moon is doing its best to light our world tonight.  Wearing a halo looking like smudged paint, could this be moon dust, I wonder?

I wish some moonshine would fall into Daddy’s bedroom window.  Too often he bumps into the dark.  Wearing a shiner smudging his left eye, last week it was crescent-shaped.  Purple, blue, yellow — Daddy says it doesn’t hurt.

From new moon to full moon to new moon, we cycle too.  We begin and end life needy.  We are invisible without voice.  But aren’t we most needy when full of ourselves, when our blinding light and blaring sound makes us dim-witted?

Far on the light-dimmer side, Daddy is almost new — man dust and heavenly halos — invisible to the eye, here all the same.  For now, a still lovely Daddy is doing his best to light our world.

What’s love got to do with it?

11 Sunday Jul 2010

Posted by Janell in Home Restoration, Life at Home, Prayer, Soul Care, Writing

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Everyday Life, Prayer, Self-Knowledge, Soul Care, Writing

Is it my fault that I’m better at starting projects than finishing them?

The more I live, the more I realize that fault has nothing to do with it.   The simple truth is that I’m okay with unfinished business.   Tying up loose ends, for me, is analogous to eating canned spinach, something I might do, only because it’s good for me.

I’m not one who needs closure.  If I’m not enjoying a television show, I’ll just walk out of the room.  Sometimes, for the rest of its television shelf life.  But  while I don’t need closure, that’s not the kind of world I live in, either here at home — with a husband who happens to love decisions and lining up ducks in a row —  or in this great big beautiful world, where we pursue high school diplomas, college degrees and all sorts of certifications.

If my husband were here, looking over my shoulder as I write, he would be nodding his head in agreement.  My husband loves to have a plan to execute, while plans for me, are nothing more than one possibility.  Life was once tense until we figured out we each  regarded “plans” differently.  Now when I causally mention a movie I might like to see “this afternoon,” he knows I’m only dreaming out loud, that I’m not really making definite plans to go buy tickets and sit in a theater.

Pity my poor husband who believes in the holiness of made beds every morning and a well-ordered kitchen.  Though I finally bought in to his way of thinking on the bed, my kitchen is never orderly when I’m in the business of entertaining with food.  My wonderful husband has cleaned up my kitchen messes since the beginning days of our marriage, where it seems my goal is to dirty every bowl and pot in the kitchen.  Almost twenty-five years into our marriage, we each, by now, know our roles and lines:

I apologize for the mess and say, ‘Thanks, Honey,” as sweetly as I can.

He in return smiles, shrugs and says with matter-of-fact acceptance, “That’s my job.”

It’s good to know and accept our lot in life.  And perhaps it begins by knowing and accepting ourselves (and each other) for who we are…. and for who we are not.  It begins with knowing ourselves, followed slowly by self-acceptance, followed by a steady diet of prayer, mostly of the canned serenity variety:  God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.

This thread of thoughts is helping me sew up one large loose end that has been hanging and dangling in the wind since Daddy died.  When Daddy decided it was time to tie up loose ends here, I was in the midst of writing a research paper, a  final requirement to complete  my spiritual direction coursework.  But after-wards, words and thoughts wouldn’t come, no matter how much I wanted them to.  The writing part of me  just shut down for a while, that’s all.

But tying up loose ends is very much in my business plans right now.  Both at my sister’s place as well as completing that final bit of writing for class.    Words are finally coming and I’m so happy I could weep.   I go to bed thinking about the project and wake up with new ideas.  Then I write.  Steadily.  I’ve almost got a first draft.

I’m writing on a subject that has attracted me for more years than I can count,  with an eye toward how self-knowledge (specifically, knowing our spiritual type) ties into spiritual direction.  The coupling of spiritual direction and self-knowledge is as old as the hills, of course.  It’s scattered upon most every page of the Bible, from Eve to Noah to Moses to Jonah to Peter to Paul  to Doubting Tom.  Dick and Harry too, I imagine, though their stories never made it to print.

Spiritual direction and self-knowledge are natural  companions, in any encounter between God and humans.  Even beyond the pages of the Bible, we find in  the fourth century B.C. writings of Plato that everyday Greek saying, “Know Thyself”, said to be one of three inscriptions carved into the walls of the Temple of Apollo at Delphi.  The apparent wisdom lying beneath this Greek proverb was this:  seekers had to first know themselves before they could properly apply guidance received from Apollo’s mouthpiece, the priestess called the Pythia.

Then and now, self-knowledge is good soul food and a good meeting place to encounter God.  Tying up loose ends has evolved into a spiritual practice for me, for there is always something of God in it when I’m picking up a loose end.  God knows that loose end will be tied strictly out of love for others:  My husband;  My children:  My sister.

And speaking of my sisters… in that photo at the top, showing my sister’s newly renovated kitchen, where Sis is busy preparing for her first dinner party and I’m busy snapping photos…. well… about those lovely kitchen cabinets.  Would you believe me if I told you that they’re not quite done.  They need another coat of paint.

But just between us — aren’t they pretty anyways?

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