So...
I wrote about my friend who proposed an intentional covenant of connection via weekly emails and monthly snail mail. So far, it's absolutely wonderful. To know that my emails will be read with care and responded to is so healing. Many times, I've tried to email, text, or call people in my world but haven't heard back from them. There's only so long that that kind of one-sided connection can last before it fizzles.
My friend said my enthusiastic response to her proposal gave her the confidence to make communication offers with other people. She has three more people who she'll be trying to stay in touch with in similar ways. With her encouragement, I decided to be brave and invite two of my other friends into the circle of connection.
So here's what I'll be doing!
With Tracy (the originator of this fantastic idea): I'll be receiving emails from her on Tuesdays and responding to them on Wednesdays. In addition, I'll be sending her a piece of real mail at least once a month.
With Kody: I'll be emailing him on Sundays. He's asked for two days of response time, so I'll be hearing back from him by Tuesdays. He also agreed to snail mail at least once a month and counter-proposed occasional packages as well!
With Kt: She liked the idea too, but said she writes enough emails in her life and would like to become...wait for it...actual pen pals, writing real mail to each other, trying for once a week.
So there you have it! The ways in which I hope to continue to be connected to my incredible friends. Now, I'd like to be intentional about spending time with Dan locally. Perhaps a guaranteed once a week walk? Away from anything with a screen to drag our attention away from each other.
Exciting.
On another note, I'm currently at a coffee shop getting my writing juices flowing with this blog because Sunday is my annual hospice memorial service. This is my once a year event where I invite everyone who has lost a loved one on our care for the past year to a memorial service that I have planned and facilitate. I think the event will be welcoming and hopefully healing for people. I have a local high school ensemble chorus who will be coming to share music with us. Dan's running the sound. My mom and Dan's mom are catering for the 2nd year in a row. The order of service has been printed beautifully thanks to one of my co-workers. I've received RSVPs to make me feel calmer about all the effort going into this event. The weather is supposed to be beautiful, which is excellent considering last year it POURED the day of.
Only thing left?
My homily.
It's also what was last minute for me last year. Damn procrastinating personality! It's just very difficult to write a homily that encompasses so many different people, both our deceased patients and their families. When I'm asked to do a service for a particular person, it's nice because I can focus on THEM. I can get personal stories, ask families what they want to have included, make the songs and words intentionally reflect particular people. But for dozens of different people and the staff that take care of them...much more difficult.
I want to focus on universal themes of loss and the trauma of death. Because frankly, death disrupts our lives. We're going along, living our day-to-day, then boom! Someone we love dies. And the truth of it is, no matter how many people tell you "It's going to be ok." there is, at least for a moment, a time where it doesn't feel that way. We live in a very death-denying society. With the transition of deaths to hospitals and nursing homes, (which are viable options, don't get me wrong) the feeling of someone dying has turned from being personal and family-oriented to stranger and machine-oriented. Hospice is trying to open up the possibility of people having the choice to die in their homes, surrounded by family, and photos, and memories, and love. In a personal way.
When someone dies in our culture, who is not a celebrity, I find that there is a stressful push to "be ok now!" We try to get back to "normal" as quickly as possible. At my HOSPICE job, it's written into the policy that employees receive "up to three days" of bereavement time at the death of a close loved one. And "close" only counts for parents, grandparents, and siblings. Really? Three days? Yeah, right. I think this is especially bogus when the person who we've lost because the sun of our universe...illness causing them to be the center of our world perhaps under very difficult circumstance and for an extended period of time.
While I want to acknowledge and make a sacred space for the losses, and the aching holes left behind, I also want to spend a good bit of time talking about love. There's a Forrest Church quote that I adore. It will be read by the hospice social worker before I homilize. I want this quote read at my own Memorial Service hopefully MANY years from now.
By the Reverend Forrest Church who was, before his passing, a Unitarian Universalist Minister:
"Every time we commit ourselves, every time we share ourselves with another...we risk so very much. We risk disappointment...we risk the enormous pain of loss. If we try to protect ourselves from suffering, we shall manage only to subdue the very thing that makes our lives worth living. Though we can, by a refusal to love, protect ourselves from the risk of losing what or whom we love, the irony is, by refusing to love we will have nothing left that is really worth protecting."
In other words, the only way we can avoid the pain of grief is also by avoiding the joy of love.
And I, for one, do not believe that my life would be worth a lick of beans, as they say here in the south, if I didn't have people to love and who loved me. My ideas about god change and evolve over the years, but one thing I have been consistent on believing is that there is evidence of divine love present in the love of my family and my friends. They are the embodiment of sacred connection, hope, and love. Without them, I feel depressed and disconnected. I feel like there is nothing worthwhile. But with them I feel full and whole. I soar and can expand to a fuller potential. I can make a difference in the world because of their love.
And when I lose someone I love, then their memory, and even my guilt and regrets, spark within me a desire to live better. To love more. To tell the people I care about how grateful I am for them. Each life, and even each death, alters my life perspective. They turn the course of my life path, sometimes a little and sometimes a lot.
Each of the people coming to the service on Sunday has been affected by death in the past year. More than anything I want their losses to be acknowledged and for them to feel cared for and safe. And I want for them to eat delicious food, because I fully believe there is something ancient and wonderful about sharing a meal with people.
Well this blog certainly has gotten my writing juices flowing just like I'd hoped! I've even been going back and forth from my homily writing while typing it. Now, I plan to focus more exclusively on my homily, praying that something loving and comforting will result.
If you have any thoughts please leave me a comment. Otherwise, until next time!
Blessings,
Kelley
Friday, September 21, 2012
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Reconnection
I have a dear friend of mine who has made a beautiful proposal for us. She wants to be digital pen pals. The proposal came with specifics. I hope she doesn't mind me sharing as I'm going to ask for permission after the fact. She wrote, "I would like to make a commitment/covenant with you to email each other
once per week. I could email you on Tuesdays and you could email me on
Thursdays (or whatever days we decide on). It wouldn't have to take up
too much time, but we could just check in with each other, stay up on
life events, be encouraging to one another through the tough times."
I immediately loved the idea. After some discussion, we have also agreed to send a letter or postcard to each at least once a month! I'm very excited. What first struck me about it was the honor of being asked to take part in this endeavor with a very dear friend. I also was extremely grateful for the mutuality it implied. There have been many times in email or handwritten letter writings that I've felt like I'm putting forth all the effort. And while the writing is beneficial for me, it is so much more life-giving to have someone on the receiving end who is also actively committed to the connection.
It's also extremely lovely to feel loved. I have some very dear friends in my life. And at times when I feel like I can't land my feet on anything solid, it's incredible to have the sense of grounding that my close friends give me.
I may have written about this before, but there is a Celtic phrase that deeply moves me. It's the idea of "anam cara" which translates to "soul friend." John O'Donahue has written a book about this concept. In it he writes, "The anam cara was a person to whom you could reveal the hidden intimacies of your life. This friendship was an act of recognition and belonging. When you had an anam cara, your friendship cut across all convention and category. You were joined in an ancient and eternal way with the friend of your soul."
I truly and deeply believe that I have more than one anam cara in my life. Which is interesting because although I feel like I have a warm personality, I don't necessarily open up myself deeply to people. There have been many occasions when I've learned that someone else feels closer to me than I feel to them. The lack of mutuality in these situations seems to come from my unwillingness, or even fear, of being fully myself with another person. But despite my own reluctance, I have somehow been blessed with deep closeness from several people. People who know me, love me, have supported me through years of friendship and who, I genuinely hope, I have made feel the same sense of love and acceptance. With them, I belong.
So here's to a covenant with my friend! A covenant to intentionally stay close and connected to one another despite our separation of many miles. And here's to my anam caras. Spread out all over the country, but so near and dear to my heart.
Blessings,
Kelley
I immediately loved the idea. After some discussion, we have also agreed to send a letter or postcard to each at least once a month! I'm very excited. What first struck me about it was the honor of being asked to take part in this endeavor with a very dear friend. I also was extremely grateful for the mutuality it implied. There have been many times in email or handwritten letter writings that I've felt like I'm putting forth all the effort. And while the writing is beneficial for me, it is so much more life-giving to have someone on the receiving end who is also actively committed to the connection.
It's also extremely lovely to feel loved. I have some very dear friends in my life. And at times when I feel like I can't land my feet on anything solid, it's incredible to have the sense of grounding that my close friends give me.
I may have written about this before, but there is a Celtic phrase that deeply moves me. It's the idea of "anam cara" which translates to "soul friend." John O'Donahue has written a book about this concept. In it he writes, "The anam cara was a person to whom you could reveal the hidden intimacies of your life. This friendship was an act of recognition and belonging. When you had an anam cara, your friendship cut across all convention and category. You were joined in an ancient and eternal way with the friend of your soul."
I truly and deeply believe that I have more than one anam cara in my life. Which is interesting because although I feel like I have a warm personality, I don't necessarily open up myself deeply to people. There have been many occasions when I've learned that someone else feels closer to me than I feel to them. The lack of mutuality in these situations seems to come from my unwillingness, or even fear, of being fully myself with another person. But despite my own reluctance, I have somehow been blessed with deep closeness from several people. People who know me, love me, have supported me through years of friendship and who, I genuinely hope, I have made feel the same sense of love and acceptance. With them, I belong.
So here's to a covenant with my friend! A covenant to intentionally stay close and connected to one another despite our separation of many miles. And here's to my anam caras. Spread out all over the country, but so near and dear to my heart.
Blessings,
Kelley
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Feeling Unlike Myself
I'm a bit stumped for the moment on The Right to Write. I never got past one of the assignments and it's been holding me up. So I think I'll move forward soon, allowing myself the grace to skip over this roadblock.
I also have just not felt like myself lately. I think I may have an inner ear infection. I go to the doctor this afternoon to find out for sure. I am running on a constant, low-level dizziness. Pain and pressure. Clumsiness. Dis-ease. I've also been very tired and waking up feeling unrested. I sincerely hope an inner ear infection is as bad as it might be. I would very much like to be feeling better soon. Dan is off this weekend, which is a rarity, and I certainly don't want to sleep the entire time.
I don't really have a purpose in this blog post, for which I apologize to anyone who might be here reading it. I just feel...odd. Separate. Unwell. I'm having a very hard time concentrating, and I'm trying to focus well enough to write elsewhere for work. I hoped that by writing here, by dislodging some of the confusion, I could reign in my errant thoughts and bring them into some sense of order.
No such luck.
However, I did find it fun to write and type when nothing was dependent on it more than getting out what was in my head.
Here goes my second attempt at writing for work. Thanks for visiting. Hopefully your next stop by will come with a more fun/inspiring/insightful read.
Blessings,
Kelley
I also have just not felt like myself lately. I think I may have an inner ear infection. I go to the doctor this afternoon to find out for sure. I am running on a constant, low-level dizziness. Pain and pressure. Clumsiness. Dis-ease. I've also been very tired and waking up feeling unrested. I sincerely hope an inner ear infection is as bad as it might be. I would very much like to be feeling better soon. Dan is off this weekend, which is a rarity, and I certainly don't want to sleep the entire time.
I don't really have a purpose in this blog post, for which I apologize to anyone who might be here reading it. I just feel...odd. Separate. Unwell. I'm having a very hard time concentrating, and I'm trying to focus well enough to write elsewhere for work. I hoped that by writing here, by dislodging some of the confusion, I could reign in my errant thoughts and bring them into some sense of order.
No such luck.
However, I did find it fun to write and type when nothing was dependent on it more than getting out what was in my head.
Here goes my second attempt at writing for work. Thanks for visiting. Hopefully your next stop by will come with a more fun/inspiring/insightful read.
Blessings,
Kelley
Monday, July 30, 2012
Serendipitous Surprises
When I started my most recent venture in writing, I explained that I didn't know where it was going to lead me. I didn't need or want to know. I just wanted prance playfully along the path as it became visible, one leap and skip at a time. Well, the path took a surprising turn about which I wanted to share.
Last week, I received an email from one of the ladies in my company who works in Danville, VA. She and I are friends on facebook and she said she'd read my post "Being Someone's 'Angel.'" She asked if she could put it in her Hospice Volunteer Newsletter. Surprised, but pleased I assured her that would be fine and that I was honored she valued it enough to want to share it with others. From this conversation, I decided to show it to my own office's Volunteer Coordinator (henceforth "VC") Teresa. I know she is always looking for pieces to put in her newsletter and if this other VC found my blog interesting, I thought it might be worth showing to Teresa.
She also liked the words and immediately said that she too would like to use it in her newsletter. I was grateful for the compliment and the alacrity of her positive response. I also found myself feeling abnormally surprised and taken aback by her encouragement thinking to myself, "Really? You liked it that much?" I'm not sure why I responded so critically to my own writing. I suppose I've just never shared it beyond the internet world; a world and space that can feel distant despite its public nature.
I then discovered that Teresa shared it with another VC who then asked to know the link to my blog because she now wants to follow it. (Hi Donna!) Then! I find out today that not only did Teresa share it with the VC, but she also forwarded it along to our high up boss who forwarded it along to the woman who collects material for the company-wide newsletter. My boss also wondered about sending it out to the marketing agency that works with our company to potentially bring attention to our hospice in the larger community. Surprise after surprise!
All because of words I wrote. All because of words I wrote.
I feel like this all spiraled so quickly! Just last Monday, my blog was just a place where a few of my friends read about whatever I was currently pondering. I never fancied that a large number of people took interest in it. I'm an external processor and this was just another place that I could sort through my emotions and disorderly brain. And I do feel emotionally cluttered with all this. And since lists go a long way to helping me sort, here's a list of my current emotions: stunned, empowered, grateful, nervous, humbled, overwhelmed, shy, proud, thoughtful, encouraged, and confused.
Confused seems to be chief among my feelings. Confused because I don't quite understand why anything I would write would be valuable to others. How self-deprecating is that?! Especially in light of all that I've been reading from Julia Cameron about all people having a voice and all people being writers. That's all well and good in the privacy of my own journal and the semi-privacy of my blog, but I didn't realize how deeply embedded this feeling of unworthiness as a writer truly is for me. I suppose I have more work to do.
My writing feels valuable for me. It's a way to both experience the world and respond to it. I've always dreamed of becoming a published writer. And by that I mean publishing children's books or maybe even a book about Hospice Chaplaincy. But something like this never occurred to me! After I told my husband all of the above, he said, "You're a published writer." If that's the case, then one more excuse for not being able to call myself a writer has been wiped away from my list of obstacles.
How exciting! And confusing.
Perhaps someday, my other publishing dreams will become a reality. And maybe they will add to our financial livelihood. I think perhaps that's what I meant by being published. Being paid to write. Blech. I don't like defining a beautiful creative process by money. I'll continue to work on disassembling that line of thinking as well.
In the meantime, I'm grateful to report that my words are going to be reaching out to a larger community than I could have imagined. Julia Cameron, in The Artist's Way writes about serendipity, or moments where the Universe responds to our desires and creative yearnings. I think this certainly qualifies as a moment where serendipity has appeared, smiling and waving gleefully! And for now, I'll bashfully wave back feeling grateful for this serendipitous surprise. Thanks to everyone who has always been so supportive. I'm supremely grateful.
-Kelley
P.S. If you're interested in re-reading the blog that started all this, here's a link to "Being Someone's 'Angel'"
Last week, I received an email from one of the ladies in my company who works in Danville, VA. She and I are friends on facebook and she said she'd read my post "Being Someone's 'Angel.'" She asked if she could put it in her Hospice Volunteer Newsletter. Surprised, but pleased I assured her that would be fine and that I was honored she valued it enough to want to share it with others. From this conversation, I decided to show it to my own office's Volunteer Coordinator (henceforth "VC") Teresa. I know she is always looking for pieces to put in her newsletter and if this other VC found my blog interesting, I thought it might be worth showing to Teresa.
She also liked the words and immediately said that she too would like to use it in her newsletter. I was grateful for the compliment and the alacrity of her positive response. I also found myself feeling abnormally surprised and taken aback by her encouragement thinking to myself, "Really? You liked it that much?" I'm not sure why I responded so critically to my own writing. I suppose I've just never shared it beyond the internet world; a world and space that can feel distant despite its public nature.
I then discovered that Teresa shared it with another VC who then asked to know the link to my blog because she now wants to follow it. (Hi Donna!) Then! I find out today that not only did Teresa share it with the VC, but she also forwarded it along to our high up boss who forwarded it along to the woman who collects material for the company-wide newsletter. My boss also wondered about sending it out to the marketing agency that works with our company to potentially bring attention to our hospice in the larger community. Surprise after surprise!
All because of words I wrote. All because of words I wrote.
I feel like this all spiraled so quickly! Just last Monday, my blog was just a place where a few of my friends read about whatever I was currently pondering. I never fancied that a large number of people took interest in it. I'm an external processor and this was just another place that I could sort through my emotions and disorderly brain. And I do feel emotionally cluttered with all this. And since lists go a long way to helping me sort, here's a list of my current emotions: stunned, empowered, grateful, nervous, humbled, overwhelmed, shy, proud, thoughtful, encouraged, and confused.
Confused seems to be chief among my feelings. Confused because I don't quite understand why anything I would write would be valuable to others. How self-deprecating is that?! Especially in light of all that I've been reading from Julia Cameron about all people having a voice and all people being writers. That's all well and good in the privacy of my own journal and the semi-privacy of my blog, but I didn't realize how deeply embedded this feeling of unworthiness as a writer truly is for me. I suppose I have more work to do.
My writing feels valuable for me. It's a way to both experience the world and respond to it. I've always dreamed of becoming a published writer. And by that I mean publishing children's books or maybe even a book about Hospice Chaplaincy. But something like this never occurred to me! After I told my husband all of the above, he said, "You're a published writer." If that's the case, then one more excuse for not being able to call myself a writer has been wiped away from my list of obstacles.
How exciting! And confusing.
Perhaps someday, my other publishing dreams will become a reality. And maybe they will add to our financial livelihood. I think perhaps that's what I meant by being published. Being paid to write. Blech. I don't like defining a beautiful creative process by money. I'll continue to work on disassembling that line of thinking as well.
In the meantime, I'm grateful to report that my words are going to be reaching out to a larger community than I could have imagined. Julia Cameron, in The Artist's Way writes about serendipity, or moments where the Universe responds to our desires and creative yearnings. I think this certainly qualifies as a moment where serendipity has appeared, smiling and waving gleefully! And for now, I'll bashfully wave back feeling grateful for this serendipitous surprise. Thanks to everyone who has always been so supportive. I'm supremely grateful.
-Kelley
P.S. If you're interested in re-reading the blog that started all this, here's a link to "Being Someone's 'Angel'"
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Family, Southport and the Postcard Assigment
My family is complicated. Perhaps it's like the ever-evolving American family, but I still consider it unusual. Here's a (very!) quick overview, just to give context to who I spent part of my day with:
My biological mom (hereafter, "bio mom") was a teenager in no way prepared to become a mother. During the first several months of my life, I didn't have a steady home. I was taken to many different places across a couple of different states. Eventually, my bio mom stepped out of the picture. Insert fabulous, dependable, and consistently loving parents! Who were they? My bio mom's dad and his second wife. They have been my wonderful parents ever since. My bio mom had an older brother who I called Uncle Mike growing up despite the fact that we call the same guy "Dad." This weekend, Mike and his wife came into town and I spent the day with them and my parents. Now you should be up to speed on who I spent my day with and how we're all connected!
Southport is a small town south of Wilmington that you can either drive to or take a ferry to. We decided on the ferry route, which was a fun little adventure for the weekend. Here are some photos from when we were waiting for the ferry to arrive.
My biological mom (hereafter, "bio mom") was a teenager in no way prepared to become a mother. During the first several months of my life, I didn't have a steady home. I was taken to many different places across a couple of different states. Eventually, my bio mom stepped out of the picture. Insert fabulous, dependable, and consistently loving parents! Who were they? My bio mom's dad and his second wife. They have been my wonderful parents ever since. My bio mom had an older brother who I called Uncle Mike growing up despite the fact that we call the same guy "Dad." This weekend, Mike and his wife came into town and I spent the day with them and my parents. Now you should be up to speed on who I spent my day with and how we're all connected!
Southport is a small town south of Wilmington that you can either drive to or take a ferry to. We decided on the ferry route, which was a fun little adventure for the weekend. Here are some photos from when we were waiting for the ferry to arrive.
 |
| My beautiful mom |
 |
| Sheri and Mike |
 |
| My goofy dad |
Now some photos from while we were on the ferry! We had a lovely, windy trip across the water. Especially considering the smothering heat of recent weeks, being blown around by the wind was worth the relieving coolness.
 |
| Mom and Sheri getting windblown |
 |
| The ladies! Check out my mom's faux hawk! :) |
 |
| Feisty little tugboat doing it's job |
We had a lovely time. While in Southport, I was able to find a couple more Christmas gifts adding to my vastly growing gift list found excitingly early in the year! I thoroughly enjoy finding gifts throughout the year as I experience different traveling adventures!
Also while in Southport I got the supplies for my latest The Right to Write assignment, which was to grab five postcards and send them out to five friends. The full assignment was to set a 15min timer and spend no more than 2-3min on each one. Well...the Olympics are on and I'm captivated. So I decided to leave off the timer requirement and write in the breaks of the gymnastics competition. (On a sidenote: the image of Jordyn Wieber crying when she doesn't make the cut for the all-around absolutely broke my heart.)
As soon as I collect all the addresses from my friends, I'll be sending off five postcards, one each to California, Oregon, Arizona, Michigan and DC. I hadn't realized that I was picking such a broad base for my recipients, but it was a pleasant discovery.
 |
| Southport postcards for my friends |
I don't really have a neat, clean way planned to tie up this blog. But, as Julia Cameron constantly reminds me, it's worth it to write simply for the sake of writing! I hope all of you out there had a wonderful weekend and begin a promising new week filled with love! -Kelley
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
The "Storyteller" Assignment
Today's chapter with Ms. Cameron was short and to the point. Stop straining so hard to make a story up! Settle down, chill out, and listen for the story that's ready to be told through you. I've heard this described on many occasions in various expressions, but usually it sounds something like this, "It was as though the story was already formed and I was just there to write it down." The image I have here is a tornado of words and images swirling high above a receptive writer. I picture myself flying down headfirst with their stories in a furious spiral toward the writer, eventually crashing with their pen as it flies across the page! It's all rather adventurous!
Frankly, I've been skeptical of this concept. The story as an almost separate being simply out to find the right conduit? Or perhaps envious is more accurate. Either way, I have not experienced this personally. If it really is a true experience and really does exist for some people, why not me? Julia Cameron suggests it's because I'm trying too hard to create impressive words all on my own rather than listening to what's around me. I'm going to give this a shot. Maybe I'll carve out some time this weekend to just...be...and listen. We'll see what comes from it. She suggests letting go so the creative process can work in and through you. I shall try. As Barney, from "How I Met Your Mother" might say, "Challenge accepted!"
The writing assignment from this chapter is as follows: "Pretend that you are sitting under a large tree with your back resting on its trunk. On the other side of the tree, a Storyteller sits also resting against the tree trunk. Take a sheet of paper and number from one to five. Tell the Storyteller five things you'd like to hear stories about." I've decided to type my list here rather than write them in my notebook. So here they are:
1. I'd like to hear a story about the diligent and hard-working person who is hopeful about a life filled with more meaning. I want to hear a story about how opportunity finally knocked for them and new hope was born as they skipped along toward their happy ending.
2. I'd like to hear a story about the committed and loving couple who, having longed for a child for years, finally have their dreams realized in a sweet, healthy addition to their family.
3. I'd like to hear a story about an adventurous woman who traveled the world in search of new experiences and opportunities to bring love and peace into a hurting world.
4. I'd like to hear a story about a child who opened the hearts of adults by being loving, kind, and unwilling to accept the boundaries and walls we create in adulthood.
5. I'd like to hear a story about the family that loves each other no matter what and that, rather than avoiding the difficulties of life, face them together through love, support, and encouragement.
Okay, so one thing is for sure from my list. I like my happy endings. As a friend just wrote today, "I don't need art to imitate life. I want a movie with a damn happy ending....tied up neatly." Well apparently, so do I. it also seems to be a theme that I don't necessarily need the whole story to be sugarcoated. But I am a fan of love, peace, hard work, hopefulness, and positivity winning out in the end.
I also see that none of the stories I want told are entirely new. I can think of several stories already out there that would fit into one of more of these categories. But still, it was a cathartic and energizing process to write them down for myself. Maybe I'll settle more into these ideas when I sit back this weekend and allow the process of creativity to lead me where it chooses.
More to come!
Blessed be,
Kelley
Frankly, I've been skeptical of this concept. The story as an almost separate being simply out to find the right conduit? Or perhaps envious is more accurate. Either way, I have not experienced this personally. If it really is a true experience and really does exist for some people, why not me? Julia Cameron suggests it's because I'm trying too hard to create impressive words all on my own rather than listening to what's around me. I'm going to give this a shot. Maybe I'll carve out some time this weekend to just...be...and listen. We'll see what comes from it. She suggests letting go so the creative process can work in and through you. I shall try. As Barney, from "How I Met Your Mother" might say, "Challenge accepted!"
The writing assignment from this chapter is as follows: "Pretend that you are sitting under a large tree with your back resting on its trunk. On the other side of the tree, a Storyteller sits also resting against the tree trunk. Take a sheet of paper and number from one to five. Tell the Storyteller five things you'd like to hear stories about." I've decided to type my list here rather than write them in my notebook. So here they are:
1. I'd like to hear a story about the diligent and hard-working person who is hopeful about a life filled with more meaning. I want to hear a story about how opportunity finally knocked for them and new hope was born as they skipped along toward their happy ending.
2. I'd like to hear a story about the committed and loving couple who, having longed for a child for years, finally have their dreams realized in a sweet, healthy addition to their family.
3. I'd like to hear a story about an adventurous woman who traveled the world in search of new experiences and opportunities to bring love and peace into a hurting world.
4. I'd like to hear a story about a child who opened the hearts of adults by being loving, kind, and unwilling to accept the boundaries and walls we create in adulthood.
5. I'd like to hear a story about the family that loves each other no matter what and that, rather than avoiding the difficulties of life, face them together through love, support, and encouragement.
Okay, so one thing is for sure from my list. I like my happy endings. As a friend just wrote today, "I don't need art to imitate life. I want a movie with a damn happy ending....tied up neatly." Well apparently, so do I. it also seems to be a theme that I don't necessarily need the whole story to be sugarcoated. But I am a fan of love, peace, hard work, hopefulness, and positivity winning out in the end.
I also see that none of the stories I want told are entirely new. I can think of several stories already out there that would fit into one of more of these categories. But still, it was a cathartic and energizing process to write them down for myself. Maybe I'll settle more into these ideas when I sit back this weekend and allow the process of creativity to lead me where it chooses.
More to come!
Blessed be,
Kelley
Monday, July 23, 2012
What is a "Writer"?
I was reading in The Right to Write by Julia Cameron about what makes someone a "writer." It was about challenging our notions of who and what writers are. An interesting thing about this chapter is she seemed to assume that associations with writers would be negative. For example, "Writers are broke," "Writers are crazy," "Writers are loners." I think my assumptions are actually glorified in an unrealistically positive light. Some of the assumptions I make are, "Writers get to travel and live abroad to study and gain experience for what they write." "Writers absorb the same world I do, but with interesting and enlightening perspectives that other people want to read." Or even, "Writers are in touch with a deeper creativity and spirituality than the average person." In fact, I often picture a "writer" as worldly woman stylishly dressed sitting at a café in Europe, watching people, writing, engaging the locals (in perfect vernacular), and committing prose to paper that is immediately revered.
Interesting...
The "assignment" at the end of the chapter was to fill in the phrase "Writers are ________________." ten times. Again, the assumption seemed to be that the associations would be negative and that a spin on the task would be to find the statement's opposite, more positive outlook. Using the examples she gave it would be, "Writers are solvent." "Writers are sane" and "Writers have good friends."
Again, interesting.... Instead of a negative slant, I have an image of a writer lifted onto a pedestal of enlightening creativity. It's much like the place I put Julia Cameron herself despite her constant reminder that her "writing life" looks much like any other person's life, "...just with some writing sandwiched in."
Until the last pages that included the assignment, I was right with Julia. She was challenging my other assumptions that cause me to resist calling myself a writer. Here's a rough idea of what I took from the chapter rephrased in my own words:
If asked to speak on the spot, I feel very articulate. I think quickly and love the challenge of putting words together in a way that's both clear and capturing. I even feel articulate when writing/typing my thoughts. Though I do often feel verbose when both speaking and writing. Why, then, do I not feel like I can be considered a writer? Answer: Because I'm not published. Okay, that's a true statement, but it doesn't diminish this form of personal expression. However, writing in this blog does make me want to refocus on and embrace a Bucket List item; namely, to write, illustrate and publish a children's book, the rough draft of which is...somewhere. (Note to self: search out rough draft.)
This blog is a creative outlet I'm grabbing hold of once again! I am a writer simply by the beautiful and personal act of writing!!
Some quotes from the chapter onto which I particularly latched:
We make a big deal out of putting words on paper instead of simply releasing them to the air.
What if there were no such thing as a writer? What if everyone simply wrote? What if there were no 'being a real writer' to aspire to? What if writing were simply about the act of writing?
What if we allowed ourselves to be amateurs (from the Latin verb amare, "to love").
And finally...
If we eliminate the word 'writer,' if we just go back to writing as an act of listening and naming what we hear, some of the rules disappear.
So...I write. I look, absorb, process, and then, as a bonus, I put it here (or in my journal or in my morning pages), and maybe it does connect me with something deeper and more. And maybe it also happens to connect me with whoever reads this. All in all, I think that's something worth aspiring to.
So, I'll continue to delve into this book. I'm fairly certain this will not be my last post written in response to one of the chapters. I certainly hope not. Until we meet again!
-Kelley-
Interesting...
The "assignment" at the end of the chapter was to fill in the phrase "Writers are ________________." ten times. Again, the assumption seemed to be that the associations would be negative and that a spin on the task would be to find the statement's opposite, more positive outlook. Using the examples she gave it would be, "Writers are solvent." "Writers are sane" and "Writers have good friends."
Again, interesting.... Instead of a negative slant, I have an image of a writer lifted onto a pedestal of enlightening creativity. It's much like the place I put Julia Cameron herself despite her constant reminder that her "writing life" looks much like any other person's life, "...just with some writing sandwiched in."
Until the last pages that included the assignment, I was right with Julia. She was challenging my other assumptions that cause me to resist calling myself a writer. Here's a rough idea of what I took from the chapter rephrased in my own words:
If asked to speak on the spot, I feel very articulate. I think quickly and love the challenge of putting words together in a way that's both clear and capturing. I even feel articulate when writing/typing my thoughts. Though I do often feel verbose when both speaking and writing. Why, then, do I not feel like I can be considered a writer? Answer: Because I'm not published. Okay, that's a true statement, but it doesn't diminish this form of personal expression. However, writing in this blog does make me want to refocus on and embrace a Bucket List item; namely, to write, illustrate and publish a children's book, the rough draft of which is...somewhere. (Note to self: search out rough draft.)
This blog is a creative outlet I'm grabbing hold of once again! I am a writer simply by the beautiful and personal act of writing!!
Some quotes from the chapter onto which I particularly latched:
We make a big deal out of putting words on paper instead of simply releasing them to the air.
What if there were no such thing as a writer? What if everyone simply wrote? What if there were no 'being a real writer' to aspire to? What if writing were simply about the act of writing?
What if we allowed ourselves to be amateurs (from the Latin verb amare, "to love").
And finally...
If we eliminate the word 'writer,' if we just go back to writing as an act of listening and naming what we hear, some of the rules disappear.
So...I write. I look, absorb, process, and then, as a bonus, I put it here (or in my journal or in my morning pages), and maybe it does connect me with something deeper and more. And maybe it also happens to connect me with whoever reads this. All in all, I think that's something worth aspiring to.
So, I'll continue to delve into this book. I'm fairly certain this will not be my last post written in response to one of the chapters. I certainly hope not. Until we meet again!
-Kelley-
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)