Sort of hard to think about a future right now, to be honest. But resistance and rebellions were not built on giving up ground. So, I keep getting up. I keep supporting the people I love and the people who are in the most need, and I keep practicing my art. I’m writing representatives and flooding ICE hotlines with tips to look into the financial contributions of an illegal immigrant named Musk. I’m donating money to Planned Parenthood and frequenting the library. I’m making sure that my organization (Writing Heights Writers Association) will always honor Diversity, Equity And Inclusion. That I understand privilege poisons the well of our society and I am a part of that, so it’s my duty and my honor to use what little power I have to uplift everyone in my community, support them, listen to them, and advocate in ways that help them most, not my ego.
On top of that, here are some things I’ll be doing. If you’re in the area, or are interested in supporting my writing organization or my career, you can. For the record, WHWA is not a non-profit, but its not a money maker either. It’s a zero-sum game after I pay the bills and the teachers so, know that if you sign up for a class, or register as a member, your fees go to teaching and supporting writers. It is a labor of love and I hope I can do it for a very long time.
Here’s a Bullet List:
Starting in February, I’ll be looking for Beta readers and reviewers for my newest book, “No Words After I Love You” is a beautiful homage to love, grief, and how we, as humans cope with the shifting changes, losses, and heartaches in life while still being open to love and joy. It follows two older friends on a journey of rediscovering their fire and making peace with the past. I’d call it contemporary/literary fiction with a romantic/philosophical twist. Let me know and I’ll send you a copy.
WHWA is hosting classes at the end of the month in February and we’ll be talking about Plotting (Cristina Tripani-Scott) and How to Write Emotion in Fiction (me) You don’t have to be a member to attend and it’s all virtual so you can come in your pjs. Here’s the link to register: WHWA CLASSES
Registration is opening up in February for WHWA’s Spring Workshop and Retreat. This year we’ll have two tracks: Memoir and Creative Craft. There will be morning yoga, evening readings and socializing and plenty of time to write if that’s how the time serves you best. All up in beautiful Allenspark with views of Longs Peak and Rocky Mountain National Forest.
In March (the 12th) I’ll be giving a talk at Founded in Fort Collins, sort of a community organizer/entrepreneur conference, aimed to help small businesses, nonprofits, and aspiring hopefuls navigate the world. My talk will be about the importance of writing, and getting your voice heard. Here’s the dets:
They have socializing/networking hours as well as class time
I’m pitching two new novels to 5 Prince Publishing. Each is the first novel in a three-part series and I’m excited to get back into some fun, escapist romance. One is a time-traveling, historical romance, and the other is an odd hodgepodge of paranormal romance. Both have higher spice factors so…yum. I’m hopeful to get them out towards the end of the year, depending on how badly written they are and how much work my poor editor has to do.
Well, that’s all the news from my corner of the world. I hope you are doing good and just things from where you’re at. Be kind, work hard, don’t falter. Change happens with consistency and determination. We’ve got those things, so don’t lose hope.
I’d been trying to think of something writer-like to put on the blog this week. I am, after all, a writer and my blog is about more than just book signings and the random outburst of poetry. It’s a space for aspiring and seasoned writers to not feel so damn alone. To know that we exist in a universe together, with other, weird little writers. We inspire and uplift each other. Sometimes we are cautionary tales, or serve as examples good and bad to one another. We critique and offer hands up, teach and learn, all together, knowing that the heart of an artist is surrounded in a soul more sensitive than most.
We see the world differently. We hear it and smell it, and absorb it. We make connections and notice the little things that many don’t. Its often why we suffer so much more greatly. But this week. This week I watched and read as whispers of misconduct became horrible, horrific truths. About someone I used to admire very deeply. Someone I thought understood and abhorred causing unnecessary suffering. I read his books. I read my children his books. I bought his graphic novels, I enjoyed his writing advice. He was incredible and creating characters and monsters.
Then the truth came out that he was one. A true-to-life monster.
For years, and in very dark and disgusting ways, he committed monstrosities. Ways that I cannot as a feminist, as a human, as an artist, or as a soul made of stardust, reconcile with. It took every one of his books off my shelf, and put it in the recycling bin.
But you can hate the artist but love the art, right? All of those terrible acts don’t negate that he’s a good writer… Here’s where I brush aside that morally gray line.
NO. I can’t love the art of someone who’s soul is so rotten and sick that he’d do that to another person.. Yes, those terrible things DO negate that he’s a good writer. Because the brain that created those words, also created and excised pain and terror on actual human beings.
Here’s the bottom line. I’m fed up with a world offering excuses to people who behave this way. Weighing a ledger between talent and atrocity. Where its ‘kinda okay’ because I don’t want to give up my special editions? No. It matters. It matters who we support and what we allow, and I’m done allowing it.
I took his books off my shelf, for those girls and women. For my daughters, for anyone who’s ever fallen victim to a hero, and every hero who’s ever taken advantage. That’s not heroism.
He’s not allowed in my house anymore. I’ll never willingly read his words again or buy any more of his books. I hope he turns the monstrosities and horrors he put out into the world, back in on himself where they belong.
Good morning writers, authors, editors or accidental guests.
I’m trying to find more efficient ways to work this year and I found this old series in my back catalog. Now, I teach writing and support writers for a living but I think these little nuggets of advice (free) are actually still pretty good and relevant. So starting today, and for every Second Thursday on my Blog, I’ll be offering a little writing advice.
I call it the The Beautiful Writers Workshop, based on the quote from Ray Bradbury about filling your cup and letting all of the beautiful stuff pour out. This year-long journey is about developing your craft through exercises in creativity, editing techniques, inspirational prompts, and building the framework for your writing career.
Some of the blogs will inspire. Some blogs will lean more to the technical side of writing. But whatever the monthly topic, you can be assured of two things:
You’ll have a prompt or exercise to help develop your writing (and the opportunity to share it)
I’ll try to keep it spicy enough to be enjoyable.
So let’s get rolling! I searched through nearly all of my favorite books on writing for a perfect topic for our first lesson together but the truth is, there are just too many (good and bad) ideas out there.
So I’m going to start simple and ease you in gently to this process.
If you’re here you are either interested in writing, or are already doing it and are looking for something to add to your tool box. In order to appeal to all levels today’s workshop is centered on the basic purpose of your writing.
Below are a few questions that I’d like you to read, think about, and journal down your answers to. You can share them, you can keep them secret, but DO WRITE THEM DOWN.
Something amazing happens when we write down goals and steps to reaching them. The process becomes manageable; the goals become real. It’s one of the many beautiful and powerful attributes of writing.
Without judgement or discouragement, and being as direct as possible: what is the ultimate, lifetime goal you have for your writing?
What can you do to kick start this goal in the next 12 months? (hint: where do you need to start, where do you need to grow most for the big picture)
Is this yearly goal attainable? WHY OR WHY NOT?
Of your reasons from #3, think about the fears, limitations or concerns that formed these reasons. Name them. What do you foresee keeping you from moving forward on this yearly goal?
Of the fears, limitations and concerns, what are the possible solutions or actions you can take to eliminate them? (hint: each limitation/fear/concern gets its at least one action you can take to overcome it)
If you have a planner or calendar, write down one weekly goal (eliminating distractions, word count requirement, number of submissions out, editing, classes etc) that will help overcome the hurdles you have to your writing.
Looking at these weekly goals, find specific and measured times you have to dedicate to their success and write them down.
Okay, that’s it! I know, it’s a little dry but when building a house you have to have a solid foundation first or none of the pretty architecture above it will survive. So build your foundation, know where you’re coming from and next week we’re going to talk about:
Mission Possible: Drafting your Writing Mission Statement
(that sounds super boring but it will help writer’s across the spectrum. I promise!)
Hey there, consider this a ‘newsletter’ of sorts. I’m sure you’re all DYING to know what’s going on in my life, and have nothing between Thanksgiving and the Winter Holidays to keep you busy, so here’s a short run down of what I’m doing.
First, there’s going to be a little party, the last in the physical office of Writing Heights Writers Association, December 7th from 1-4. There will be food, books, good conversation and a teary (probably, I know I’ll be crying) send-off to our amazing director, Amy Rivers. She’s had a lot of battles this year and her bravery and fortitude has been inspiring. With so much weight to carry, it hasn’t been easy. But, in doing only a small part, I’ll be taking over for her as the director. And though we’re unfortunately losing her as the leader and our office (I wish I had the funds to keep it but rents are high) we will still be providing support, inspiration and services to writers in the community and beyond. In January I’ll be announcing some exciting opportunities and some return to activities that COVID had put a pause on.
Second, If there are classes or topics you’d like to see more of through WHWA, please let me know. If you’re struggling with a certain skill or marketing aspect, I want to know so even if I don’t know the best answers, I can find a super smart person to help you with it. Also, we’ll be bringing some longer, more in depth workshops for our members so if there’s something you want to deep dive into (memoir, screenwriting, character development, book launching) let me know and I’ll try to get it put on the schedule this year.
Third, I have a new book coming out with 5 Prince Publishing! It will be released May, and y’all, this is my favorite yet. I know we’re not supposed to have favorites, but…No Words After I Love You is an expansive and beautiful trek through grief, creativity, loss, acceptance and love. Its funny and poetic and…there aren’t any steamy scenes but it’s one of the best kisses I’ve ever written so… Gosh, I really hope it does well. More details to come.
Finally, my sweet kiddo will be going in for surgery mid month. A pretty scary, big surgery and I hope you’ll excuse me from being absent from the world for a few weeks. Wish us luck, send us all your good thoughts, and hug your babies tight (even if they’re teenagers and hate it). So much of our lives are wrapped up in their survival, thriving, and living a loved life, so I know you’ll extend me grace if I can’t get to emails and requests as quickly.
That’s about all the news that’s news. I know I’m supposed to include some links to my books or something? So…here’s where you can buy my stuff. Also, I appreciate it if you do, I don’t make much as a writer but there will be some hefty bills coming up and every bit helps.
I can’t tell you how much of my life I overthink. From what a friend has said, to what the scowl my daughter is giving me means, to the side eye my dog throws at me and the head shaking the man in the car next to me offers when I’m belting out Blink-182 lyrics… I overthink it all. I overthink every decision (but if I have a bagel without the egg I’m going to be hungry, if I brush my teeth now they’ll just get dirty because I want one more cup of coffee, but if I don’t brush them now, it might not happen today…) You see what I mean?
So when I’m given (or read, or listen to) writing advice, I tend to do the same. I over calculate how many chapters I should be writing a month to finish a book in a quarter. I’m diagraming the hell out of my character’s backstory (after a pantster first draft that feels too tepid). I’m getting lost looking at internet trends, publishing tips, and marketing plans… And so much of these grand ideas, sparked by advice to help in the long run (some don’t) but what they for sure do, is take up time. And invested time like that isn’t just the physical hours but the mental energy that it takes to process it all. Less mental energy means…less writing (or less quality in the writing?)
Recently, I read this great article on the timeless tidbit of: “just write”.
I mean, admittedly, it’s kind of a breath of fresh air. Simple. Not complicated. Correct. To be a writer, to finish your novel/story/project, you must actually write it. So…just write.
But it’s also oversimplified. If writing were just that easy, every person who’s ever come up to me and said “I’ve always wanted to write a book” or “I’ve started a novel but I can’t seem to finish it” would have oodles of books written. Wants made into dids. I mean, “just write” makes it sound like all we really have to do is sit down, the words will come, the knowledge will be there and the novel will march through beginning, middle, and end without fail or hiccup.
But writing isn’t simple. It’s akin to playing an instrument, and doing it well. Anyone can pluck the strings of a guitar. Anyone can thunk on the piano keys, but it takes more dedication, thought, and skill to actually play a song, none the less write one. But the practice is the road towards a better song.
So, as this pretty smart writer guy said, we should instead “Practice Writing.”
Practice Writing. It is better, no? You’re still doing the writing thing, but it comes with the lightened atmosphere of it being something continually tried and worked for, something offered, reworked, and perfected, but never perfect. Something we find joy in, while still being committed to the process of it.
And it helps me not over think it. Because every sentence, scene, poem, blog, or chapter I indulge in, is a practice, and a learning opportunity, but not a commitment to perfection. And just like an instrument, through trial and error, and time spent, we writers will get better and better. So, I beg you to go forth, and practice your writing today. Whether it’s 2000 words, or 20. Every plunking of the keys counts towards learning the complete song. Every word, every thought, every rambling blog post, is a writer in the making.
I wrote this blog nearly 6 years ago, before COVID-19, before the Black Lives Matter movement gained ground, before the staggering abuse of power from one of the most self-interested presidents we have had went full on “tear gas peaceful protesters so they don’t get in the shot of my photo op” crazy.
In the original version I was careful to try and not alienate readers with use of politics. Re-reading it now, after what we’ve all been through since the soon-to-be-dictator fucked our Justice System and took the foundations out of our democracy, I’m resubmitting it with more balls. (I never understood why “having balls” was equated with being tough. We all know those things can’t even withstand a little nut tap without shriveling into a vomit inducing pity party. They should really say “grow a vagina” or “have a uterus” those things can, as Betty White once said, “take a pounding”. Anyway—on to the point.) I’m submitting this with more ovaries.
Independence in our country used to mean the freedom to pursue our dreams. But now we’re finally opening our eyes to the fact that not everyone has the same opportunities for this pursuit. Discrimination based on race, the disparity between economic status, and various other homophobic, misogynistic, and white-power-driven stereotypes are collars that keep a majority of this nation underfoot and away from an “American Dream”. It was always really just a concept reserved for the continuation of power for those already in possession of it.
Here’s what I had to say so many years ago, adapted to call out the injustice I should have been brave enough to speak against before.
“Independence”
I’ve been listening to the “Hamilton” soundtrack, catering to my daughters’ obsession of the rhythmic and addictive lyrics. I realize there’s some language in it that many would deem inappropriate. But being a lover of all language and knowing my kids’ ability to differentiate between words used for flavoring and appropriate alternatives for mixed company, I don’t shy away from it. Because more important than a few f-bombs is the fact that they love it, and by loving it, they are learning from it.
I love it too. I love that this amazingly talented writer and performer (hats off to you, Lin-Manuel Miranda), took an overlooked story and breathed life and passion into for a new generation with quick-witted writing that tied the past with present day issues including but not limited to the fact that this country wasn’t built by white landowners but on the backs of the enslaved people they held captive for generations.
Hamilton is a snapshot of history and a reminder of the grit it took for our country to break free of tyranny. But that was only from a monarchy, unfair taxes, and regulations not suited for a free nation. We face so many more complex problems now, but at the root of our biggest challenges, is the imbalance of power and the very real threat of an un-punishable dictator taking the wheel and making sure all of his corrupt yes men have their day.
If ever there was a time to break free of the tyranny in our government and economic systems, this is it.
When did we stop thinking that revolutions didn’t work? When they shackled us all with overpriced living and underpaid wages? Was it when they lulled us into a sense of complacency by screaming that ‘real patriots’ never questioned their government? Was it when they told us what we could and couldn’t do with our own bodies? Was it when they defied the FIRST Amendment by posting a religious document in public schools, shoving Christianity down every students’ throat, while telling them what they could and couldn’t read in public libraries?
Does anyone else not think this is a direct remake of that old 1940’s hit, “Nazi, Germany”?
We should all strive to remember the past. When we don’t, we stop being on guard for the behaviors and situations that can lead to tragic ends in our own country. Germans were frogs in tepid water that did not notice they were being boiled alive as Hitler slowly and with great persuasive rhetoric (almost like a reality star) turned up the heat and murdered 6 million people. We are frogs in a simmering pot, people.
For the last decade we’ve been idle as a nation, allowing forgiveness for “jokes” that weren’t funny, shrugging off policies that bullied our allies, and looked away at the practice of placating dictators who held their own people beneath their boots. We allowed the highest court in the nation to be bought with favors and promises of power in return for Presidential Immunity and stripping half our population of their rights for body autonomy.
Some of you rolled our eyes. Some of you applauded. Some of you tried to justify his inability to understand complex foreign policy and economic issues by saying he was an outsider. (That’s like saying the intern you hired was given a roomful of mentors and material to study up on for the job and then shrugging when he runs the skid steer into a pile of propane tanks while smoking and jerking off, sans a mask, and shouting “I don’t need you idiots! I know exactly what I’m doing!”)
We are living beneath a new threat of the same old dissonant administration that seeks to divide us as a nation. and WE NEED TO REALIZE THAT WHEN ONE PERSON IN POWER DISENFRANCHISES ENTIRE GROUPS BASED ON THEIR GENDER, RACE, RELIGION, OR ECONOMIC STATUS IT SETS US BACK AS A NATION AND BURNS TO THE GROUND ANY FALSE CLAIM WE HOLD THAT ALL PEOPLE ARE CREATED EQUAL IN OUR ‘GREAT’ NATION.
In addition: The wealthiest in this nation are playing an old and tired game of making you believe its the poor, the immigrants, the non-Christians who are taking your jobs and wrecking this country, because the sure-fire way to keep in power is to fill your constituents with fear and best if its fear of the “other”. Two birds with one stone and all that…
HEAVEN FORBID, WE ALL REALIZED WHO THE REAL ENEMY TO OUR FREEDOM AND HAPPINESS WAS AND DECIDED WE SHOULD RISE UP AGAINST THEM.
On this day, I want you toconsider what it means to you to have independence.
Think about this country. Think about what makes you proud of it (if there’s anything anymore.)
We were a bunch of ragtag rebels once. Who burned things and refused to be taxed without representation. Who stood up to an upper ruling class who didn’t give two shits about us. Our country was built on the riots of people who had enough of injustice. That’s why the FIRST amendment of our constitution guarantees the right to protest. Because for all the stupid ways those first founders screwed up, at least they recognized that a country full of free and empowered people is stronger than those kept under the shiny shoe of a narcissistic dictator.
Revolutions rarely take a day. They are years in the making, with sacrifices of blood and lives. Revolutions are not free. There is a cost to rise up against the powers that seek to tie us, bind us, use our one precious lifetime for their own gain.
I could tell you to sit back, relax, enjoy the barbecues and hot dogs, slather your standard American body down with potato salad and jump into a kiddie pool filled with Bud Light (*or some “truly” American beer that wouldn’t advocate for human rights?*) while waving sparklers from every available appendage…but I won’t.
Today I’m going to tell you to remember the past, remember the fight. Remember there are things worth standing up for and things don’t change unless you rise up and change them.
Free yourself from the fear, trepidation, and self-doubt that keeps you from standing up for the rights of every man, woman, all-those-between, and child in this country. We are Americans and we stand together against the forces that seek to keep any one of us down.
Rise up.
Don’t give away your shot.
Be young, scrappy, and hungry, and take back your life, your country, your Supreme Court and the principles that sparked revolution and never give up the fight to win freedom for all of us to pursue happiness.
Yeah, I did just title this blog that…No, I’m not sorry. Yes, I hope that song plays in your head all day. Yes, it may seem “Ludacris”. Yes, I did just make a dad joke out of it. No, you can’t get a refund, this shit is free.
This is actually a post from a couple of years ago, but oddly enough, I’m headed up tonight to the Wyoming Writers Conference again. And again, I’ll be pitching. So I’ve tweaked a few things but the advice remains solid. I hope it can help you.
Now, on to the blog
This week, tonight actually, I’ll be pitching a novel to a publishing company at the Wyoming Writers Conference in Casper, Wyoming. I know that this should be something I do at least every year but with the past couple of years spent in catching up and starting new jobs, and my creativity taking a giant dump of late, I haven’t had the drive, material, or need to throw myself into the ring.
But, by strange happenstance, the novel that I started at last year’s WWConference in Laramie, turned out to be one of my favorite books. Its a strange blossoming feeling of re-reading it and having it punch me in the gut and make me laugh-cry. I could independently publish it. But…the past years have taught me, that there’s no shame in rejection or in throwing your heart in the ring, especially when you really believe in something you’ve created. So I slammed the breaks down and took a breath. A pause. A consideration. That if the story was “Well written, with a voice we really like” that maybe I should give it another tour around the pasture before sending it out, on my own.
So here I am again, years later, still sweaty palmed, reading and re-reading, and choking on my elevator pitch and changing it a dozen times to get the most depth of the story in the fewest words. And it’s exhausting. The sudden surge of trepidation inspired me go through some of my notes from previous classes and books on pitching. And here’s what I have to offer:
Agents and publishers are human beings. They’ve probably slept horribly, are sore and uncomfortable from sitting, have heard a lot of story ideas, and are probably thinking about the cash bar. Just like you. So don’t treat them like a god up on Olympus by cowering or waving tribute in their faces. Be kind, be polite, and use some of your allotted time to treat them with dignity and respect. They’re there because they love reading and want to find a good story.
Tell them why you love your story. Yes, yes, the general plot, genre, main character and conflict…but what is it about your book that fills your heart. Why do you find a reason to read and re-read it? What were some of the best compliments you receive from your beta readers. Human beings respond to enthusiasm and genuine admiration. Otherwise, we’d never watch baseball. Moving on.
Be organized. Have a synopsis ready, bring a query letter and your business card. It’s been a long day for them and you; stories might start running together and they may need a gentle reminder what the 4:55 pm pitch was.
Be open to suggestions and critique. Whoof, this one is hard, right? After all, we just gushed about what we love in our book. While you love it (or hate it depending on how many goddamn times you’ve had to read it and rewrite it) it is also a good time, before you sit down at that table, to think of your fledgling story like a kid going off to college. Its stepping out into the world to be made better, smarter, stronger. It has a lot to learn, so let it be open to becoming something more and living up to its potential. It isn’t a reflection on you as a parent, it’s a starting point for even more amazing results to come.
Follow up. I’ve sat in the pitch sessions where every agent gave me their card and asked for ten pages. I thought I was a goddamn genius and that they’d be engaged in a bidding war over my book within weeks. Um…hate to ruin the ending there but THAT didn’t happen. Sometimes agents are required by the conferences they attend to receive a certain number of pitches. Sometimes an agent is mildly interested and looking for something to pad up their own resume. Sometimes they’re just bust-ass tired and like a parent giving in and handing their kid a remote cause they just can’t listen anymore, they pass along their card with a defeated…”stay in touch”. That being said, if it happens, act as though it’s the bidding war situation, not the tired parent. Send them what they asked for, in the format they asked for it in, and be respectful with your letter. ALWAYS INCLUDING: your name, that you met at ‘such and such conference’ and that they requested your pages. If you can, PLEASE include some other more personal detail. “It was fun talking to you about your dog, Jasper” (write that kind of thing down on their business card) but don’t make it too personal “I hope your rash has cleared up.” (that’s creepy)
After it’s all said and done a pitch session is like any other interaction introverts dread. You have to talk, somewhat excitedly, about something you love and worked hard on, and thereby risk rejection and public shaming. But please remember that the person sitting across from you is also probably an introvert (or works with a lot of them) and just wants you to tell them a good story.
Good luck out there, and if you’ll be in Casper this weekend for the conference I’d love to sit down and chat about pitches, your book, all the wonderful things we’re working on. Happy writing.
I came across this blog from a few years ago. I no longer am blessed to teach Martial Arts (due to some pretty awful happenings at my former dojo and a level of patriarchal bullshit I can’t even dive into right now). But I’ve been teaching a lot this year about creativity and this blog struck me as something that fell in line with the concept. So, without further ado…
Today I’m talking about kids. Particularly the three to eight crowd whom I typically work with in my karate classes. You see, this week is testing week.
It’s the exciting hours when those little bright-eyed darlings bound out on the floor (hopefully remembering to potty first and bow before crossing the threshold of the mats) to ‘earn’ their brand new belt and no doubt bragging rights the next day.
Now heading the school’s instruction team is a stoic former Marine and a stalwart of rules and order on the floor. Absolutely excellent in the face of a rowdy teen or an unsure adult in need of the structure and control.
Absolutely useless and frustrated in the face of the giggling, juggling mass of pent up life force.
And testing time is rarely different.
Though the potential for their future of order and restraint is glimpsed (and I suppose that’s why they come to the school in part) some of the instructors will roll their eyes at the still inadequate control. Meanwhile, I stand in the back and lament the beauty of their childhood being chipped away.
I was told repeatedly that “the Dragons class will eat you alive”. Both male instructors said so, shaking their heads and trying to bury the horrors of such a war. I nodded, in that reassuring way you do when someone has no idea.
Son (I call them son because I’m grow’d up over them by a few good years), I’m a mom. And on top of that, I’m a mom that actually enjoyed the ages of my daughters when I had to staunch nose picking while watching them ping-pong off the couch and sing “Let It Go” at the top of their lungs. Every day. All day. Seven days a week, most nights, and EVERY vacation.
So when those little bouncy balls landed on line tonight, wiggling in their gis until their belts untied themselves, and the jaws of less-seasoned warriors clenched, I glowed. I smiled. I adored and doted on.
Want to know why?
One of the greatest beautiful moments in life iswhen the life in us cannot be contained in man-made illusions of order. It’s in the misdirection and distraction. It’s the exuberance and unconditional love. It’s all that we lose as we age, either by the weights of life tying us down, or from being told repeatedly to stand straight and stop wiggling.
Ok. I understand that order has to exist. Ask any of the poor souls on I-25 while the uninformed attempt to merge. We do have to learn order and self-control. Or everyone would just live on cake and would never go to work, and we’d get into fights and stray from our taxes… I’m not saying that order isn’t important.
But order imposed on a mind still fluttering like a million startled butterflies in a sunny meadow, is like trying to…well, catch a million startled butterflies in a sunny meadow. At some point. You need to just let go and enjoy the ride and the sunlit flash of pure color. Keep them safe, keep them engaged, and love every odd-ball story and uncontrolled giggle.
I hope you realize by now, that I’m not just talking about kids here. Think about the people in your life, and what it would mean if we all encouraged, especially the adults in your life (You TOO reader), to barrel through it all with a bit more frivolity and joy.
Sometimes we’ve been so long from those two things, that we’ve forgotten how. It’s not so hard to find your way back. Here are some things that may help:
Go barefoot in the grass
Dig for worms, put them back in the garden.
On the way to your car from the grocery store, work up a good speed and hop on the back of your grocery cart…ride it all the way to the car.
Say no. To them. To yourself…to every “how to be perfect” blog or article you read.
Read the comics first and throw the rest of that shit away.
Go for a bike ride with your kids around the block and name your bike like the noble steed it is.
Tell a dirty joke.
Laugh at dirty joke.
Laugh at a fart.
Fart (and pull the covers over your spouse’s head so that they may truly enjoy it…if your marriage is really meant to last it won’t matter. If it matters well…then I’m going to let you think about that for awhile)
Belch in front of your kids, and follow it with a “Holy cow! That was awesome!”
Grab a bowl of lucky charms and watch some cartoons (Teen Titans is my fav these days).
Wiggle
Dance
Sing “Sweet Caroline” LOUDLY out your car window at the stop light. Those who don’t join in or at least smile are to be pitied.
Never say no when a child wants a hug.
Always kneel down to meet them, their perspective is so much better anyway.
Tell people you love them.
Tell them you love them without needing it to mean anything more than just what it is.
Move on.
Forget.
Someday, remember just the good bits, fondly.
You see, kids and older people get what we’ve forgotten. That the beauty of life comes from the dancing in chaos, not the standing still on line.
Still, go potty before you try the standing still…it does help the wiggles.
This is the last week of April, and so I offer a “still has that new smell” poem, straight out of the journal (so please forgive if I haven’t reworked it much). If you’ve enjoyed this month, if you’ve gotten out of your comfort zone and explored poetry, I encourage you to keep reading. Poetry is the boiled down essence of awareness and presence in the moment. It’s a straight line to another person’s soul and perspective and if the world needs more of anything these days, its building up compassion and connection between humans and fostering our common humanity. Enjoy this little off-shoot of one of my favorite songs. Its always good to have a conversation with the beating of your heart. The punctuation is intentional. I hope you can feel yours beating too.
Hello, my old heart. I'd nearly forgotten that you still lived in this tattered cage of me
until you jolted awake with such ferocity that I was stunned to attention, in the death of night
. . / . . / . . / . . / . . /. . . . . . . . .
Who put a kicking prisoner beside my lungs? Why does he fight against his cage so?
Is it because I've ignored you? Silenced you reprimanded you cuffed you when you spoke out in knowing beats against the electrical reasoning of neurons and logic?
Is it because, this time it matters?
You're quieter now
I put my hand on top of you and feel you push against my palm fighting . . steady . .
pay . . attention . . or you'll miss it.
You'll miss it all . . / . . /
What am I missing?
Your . . One . . Wild . . and . . Beautiful . . life . . /
There you are, my old heart I'm sorry I locked you away for so long
Why? Why did you? . .
Because I was afraid.
Of me? . .
Of letting you lead. Who knows where I might have ended up?
who . . knows . . who . . knows . . who . . knows . . who . . knows . .
