Since I've had some time on my hands, I've started taking a daily (almost) walk around the neighborhood. It's by no means long-distance, I'm not power-walking with my arms a-swingin', and I'm only out for about a half hour. But for me, that's almost a workout. In reality, I'm a bit of a couch potato. I guess I figured that I could be a bit more productive with my time.
I've discovered something interesting. While I'm out and about, I'm not even thinking about anything! I'm not listening to music. No societal or personal issues run through my head. I'm not even layouting out my next blog post. Oh, I try to think about something. The next housecleaning project, next steps in the job hunt. But the thoughts won't stay in line! I don't think that it's because I'm easily distracted. Sure, I notice the birds or the landscaping or the car coming down the road. But I don't literally stop to smell the roses.
My mind, it seems, is just behaving like it has...well, a mind of its own. My walk is a time to just be. Perhaps one of these days I'll have some grand moment of inspiration or clarity. Or not.
In the meantime, I'm going to leave my mind's curtains open and enjoy the fresh air.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Poetry...in Motion
Did you see that?
It was like poetry
in motion.
Poetry
is motion.
From heart and head
to pen and paper.
From lips to ears.
From wish to word to whisper.
The poet is moved.
The believer is moved.
And the poem
continues to wander.
It was like poetry
in motion.
Poetry
is motion.
From heart and head
to pen and paper.
From lips to ears.
From wish to word to whisper.
The poet is moved.
The believer is moved.
And the poem
continues to wander.
Friday, July 9, 2010
I Wasn't Nervous!
I wrote this week about how familiar I am with self-doubt stifling creativity. What if people aren't interested in what I write? What if they think it's stupid? Then I remind myself that it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks at this point. I'm just writing for me. If I gather an audience, so be it. We'll cross that proverbial bridge when we get to it. (Thank you to those of you who already consider my ideas worth an occasional peek!)
I overcame another small-scale self-doubt issue this afternoon. I wore shorts...in public...at the store. Now, that may sound foolish to you. But for a long time I've allowed concern for my appearance to come before my comfort. What if people laugh at my pale legs? Well, you know what? Who cares‽ It's over 80 degrees out there! (At least the humidity is back down to a mere 39%.) I'm finally getting to the point where I realize it doesn't matter so much what other people think. It's summertime: Time for shorts. So there.
At my age, don't you think it's about time that I start being...me?
I overcame another small-scale self-doubt issue this afternoon. I wore shorts...in public...at the store. Now, that may sound foolish to you. But for a long time I've allowed concern for my appearance to come before my comfort. What if people laugh at my pale legs? Well, you know what? Who cares‽ It's over 80 degrees out there! (At least the humidity is back down to a mere 39%.) I'm finally getting to the point where I realize it doesn't matter so much what other people think. It's summertime: Time for shorts. So there.
At my age, don't you think it's about time that I start being...me?
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Superpowers
On July 4th, I caught an episode or two of The Greatest American Hero on SyFy. Oh, c'mon; it's sort of science fiction! And it works for an Independence Day marathon. It's "American," after all!
If you're not old enough to remember the show, or have just forgotten it, it's a simple premise. Aliens visit and give a superhero costume, complete with cape, to high-school teacher Ralph. I've forgotten the details, but somehow Ralph connects with FBI agent Bill, and together they spend an hour each week catching the bad guys. Unfortunately, Ralph doesn't have an instruction manual for his suit. Anything it allows him to do--fly, run super fast, or exercise some sort of telepathic vision--he's got to discover by old-fashioned trial and error.
I remember enjoying the show back in the day. You should know I'm a sucker for nostalgia, especially the '80s. (Was this really from 1981‽) I remember enjoying the show back in the day. William Katt's hair was adorable! And who doesn't love Robert Culp (RIP)? Poor Ralph. He just wants to teach his class of misfit kids, but has to do the right thing and fight crime, learning as he goes.
It dawned on me that Ralph isn't the only one without an instruction manual. Isn't everyday life like that? Sure, we know what we're supposed to do. We learn that from family, friends, school, church. But how do we know what we're capable of? How do we discover our superpowers and how to use them? Just like Ralph, we've got to keep trying. You don't know if you're a good cook until you try. And you may only learn the difference between a bulb of garlic and a clove of garlic by making the mistake once. You might be born with incredible musical talent, but you won't know until you sit in front of the piano or pick up a guitar. Your friends might consider you a supportive and empathetic listener, but you won't know how to do it well until you've had some practice. How to be a good parent? Read all the books you want. It just takes time to find out out what works best for you and your child.
Sometimes it feels like I'm wearing a cape but don't know how to access all its wondrous powers. How come everyone else seems to know what they're doing? Then I remember that nobody really has an instruction manual...we all have to make our own journey to discover how to do what it is we're meant to do. Try, try again.
If you're not old enough to remember the show, or have just forgotten it, it's a simple premise. Aliens visit and give a superhero costume, complete with cape, to high-school teacher Ralph. I've forgotten the details, but somehow Ralph connects with FBI agent Bill, and together they spend an hour each week catching the bad guys. Unfortunately, Ralph doesn't have an instruction manual for his suit. Anything it allows him to do--fly, run super fast, or exercise some sort of telepathic vision--he's got to discover by old-fashioned trial and error.
I remember enjoying the show back in the day. You should know I'm a sucker for nostalgia, especially the '80s. (Was this really from 1981‽) I remember enjoying the show back in the day. William Katt's hair was adorable! And who doesn't love Robert Culp (RIP)? Poor Ralph. He just wants to teach his class of misfit kids, but has to do the right thing and fight crime, learning as he goes.
It dawned on me that Ralph isn't the only one without an instruction manual. Isn't everyday life like that? Sure, we know what we're supposed to do. We learn that from family, friends, school, church. But how do we know what we're capable of? How do we discover our superpowers and how to use them? Just like Ralph, we've got to keep trying. You don't know if you're a good cook until you try. And you may only learn the difference between a bulb of garlic and a clove of garlic by making the mistake once. You might be born with incredible musical talent, but you won't know until you sit in front of the piano or pick up a guitar. Your friends might consider you a supportive and empathetic listener, but you won't know how to do it well until you've had some practice. How to be a good parent? Read all the books you want. It just takes time to find out out what works best for you and your child.
Sometimes it feels like I'm wearing a cape but don't know how to access all its wondrous powers. How come everyone else seems to know what they're doing? Then I remember that nobody really has an instruction manual...we all have to make our own journey to discover how to do what it is we're meant to do. Try, try again.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Don't Be Nervous
"The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” -- Sylvia Plath
I caught this quotation in my Twitter feed earlier today. I felt like DiNozzo just getting slapped on the back of the head by Gibbs. (If you watch NCIS, you know what I mean. If not, the names aren't important.) Cue the Twilight Zone music: Those words are exactly what I needed to hear.
I was thinking just the other day that it had been a while since my last post. But I didn't know what to write about. There hadn't been anything particularly eventful. I didn't have anything especially inspiring to write about Independence Day. And I'd sworn to myself that my blog would not resemble some of my junior-high journal: Nothing happening today. Need to get a life.
Then I saw the "self-doubt" bit. Duh...this is certainly not the first time I've dealt with that! (And I know at least one friend in particular who can totally relate.) I'm not writing for a legion of followers. I'm not writing a great American novel. I'm just writing. Working on getting my ideas out there. Sometimes I might have something emotional, or intellectual, or spiritual, or poetic, or enlightening. But until those moments hit me, there's nothing wrong with just writing for the sake of writing. They say you've got to spend money to make money. It only makes sense that you've got to write something to get more ideas to write something else.
And so I shall write. But don't be surprised when I occasionally write about nothing in particular.
I caught this quotation in my Twitter feed earlier today. I felt like DiNozzo just getting slapped on the back of the head by Gibbs. (If you watch NCIS, you know what I mean. If not, the names aren't important.) Cue the Twilight Zone music: Those words are exactly what I needed to hear.
I was thinking just the other day that it had been a while since my last post. But I didn't know what to write about. There hadn't been anything particularly eventful. I didn't have anything especially inspiring to write about Independence Day. And I'd sworn to myself that my blog would not resemble some of my junior-high journal: Nothing happening today. Need to get a life.
Then I saw the "self-doubt" bit. Duh...this is certainly not the first time I've dealt with that! (And I know at least one friend in particular who can totally relate.) I'm not writing for a legion of followers. I'm not writing a great American novel. I'm just writing. Working on getting my ideas out there. Sometimes I might have something emotional, or intellectual, or spiritual, or poetic, or enlightening. But until those moments hit me, there's nothing wrong with just writing for the sake of writing. They say you've got to spend money to make money. It only makes sense that you've got to write something to get more ideas to write something else.
And so I shall write. But don't be surprised when I occasionally write about nothing in particular.
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