Liebster Award…

liebster-award

This blog has been nominated for a Liebster Award, which i am grateful for and delighted to accept. Thank you, Kathy Mays (www.psycheservices.net) !!

The Liebster award is given by bloggers to other up-and-coming bloggers to highlight their work and encourage them to continue. Liebster, from German, means dearest, beloved, favorite.

I’ve looked at several versions of the guidelines for receiving and perpetuating the award; here is the set i am using:

1. Thank the blogger that has given you the award and include the Liebster logo.
2. Answer the questions that blogger set for you.
3. List five bloggers you nominate for the award.
4. Create questions for them to answer.
5. Go to their pages and notify them.

Here are the questions posed to me and my answers…

1. If you had to describe your faults as a personality disorder, what would it be?

Easy Chair Attachment Disorder.

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August haiku…

calm after storm

In April i wrote about how my spring seemed delayed this year. With summer came, finally, a return to rhythm, a settling in to ordinariness after a crisis. At such times the mundane is very welcome.

Arriving at the other side of a crisis — whether a medical one, relational, financial or otherwise — means discovering how much of it will stay with you, and how much of it you can truly move beyond. The damage is done — the healing is not. I’ve decided that the scars i bring along into the future do not need to define me. They are significant, but they are not the most significant thing about me.

You know how when you’re looking for a song video, some of them have the lyrics superimposed over the images?  I like to think of the cancer recovery as text i choose to scroll behind the trees and flowers and friends.

Thinking about that foreground of life moving forward, i thought i’d try my hand at a haiku. I realize this poetic form does not need a title, but mine has one anyway.  

***

Eliot’s April

Cruel month it was

Dangling taste of sunny days

Summer came and went

Quiet September

No ceasing seasons’ passing

Gladder spring next year

***

Wherever you are in facing life’s challenges, i wish you hope.

Why positivity can affect me negatively…

excited-dog

Positive thinking may be overrated.

Wait — I don’t mean there is anything good about negativity.

Maybe a better way to say it is… Positivity can have its pitfalls.

I began this post as an attempt to understand why i sometimes find “positive thinking” posts off-putting. What i’m coming to realize is that what i’m really contrasting, rather than positive vs negative, is one mode of encouragement vs another.

What i will call Mode One is a sort of tough talk, one that says… “Stop making excuses! Don’t let obstacles get in your way.”

Whereas Mode Two is more like… “You have a lot to deal with. Take the time you need to process and recharge.”

I rarely hear Mode Two as excessively coddling, which, taken to a far enough degree, would be its own inherent pitfall, i suppose.

It seems i more often come across the tough talk mode taken to a degree which hits me as lacking balance. Let me state clearly that i’m not disputing the intent behind it. Now that i think about it, maybe it’s simply that some people are more given by temperament to the first, others to the second. And (or) perhaps the approach we tend to take with others reflects what we believe we need to hear ourselves.

What makes me uncomfortable is that if the stated objective is personal “success” (depending on how one defines it), the resulting motivational-speak can come across as advocating for excessive self-focus, and even as somewhat detached from others’ real struggles. Referring to another’s difficulties as excuses has the potential to be heard as dismissive rather than understanding.

Please know that I’m well acquainted with motivators for whom this is not true! They genuinely care as much about others as themselves and have pushed through their own crucibles. I mean only to say it can still sound that way. (Maybe it’s just me.)

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Forgiveness in Charleston…

forgive-stones

A couple of weeks ago, an incredibly moving scene played out in the wake of yet another mass shooting – this time in Charleston, South Carolina.  At the bond hearing of the accused shooter, family members of those murdered professed their forgiveness of the murderer.

I’ve been pondering what it is about this scene that makes me uncomfortable. Surely an act of forgiveness — of the most horrendous of offenses, from the most personally wounded of positions — is to be commended, isn’t it?

To me, there is no question that these anguished victims, going against the normal human impulse to lash out and to seek revenge, are drawing from a resource they would likely describe as outside of themselves. It is nothing short of inspiring when someone of faith demonstrates the willingness to live it authentically in such a profoundly agonizing situation.

None of us can say with certainty what we would feel or say in their shoes. It is not my purpose here to declare what i might do or to hold forth on the effects of what they are doing — only to try to understand what i find jarring about it, beyond its rarity.

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A living…

work-play-write

I don’t write for a living, but i do write to live.

Corralling my meandering thoughts into coherence (with the lasso of language?) often feels like an act of survival.

I’ve long thought that describing myself as a writer doesn’t really say that much about me. In a similar way to saying i speak a second language, my ability to construct sentences with clarity tells you nothing about the value of what i have to say.

Sure, most writers (and even some non-writers who take the trouble) tend to find the exercise therapeutic. Beyond that, though, the exhilaration of putting contemplations into words arises from the hope that readers will be moved to connect these expressions to their own experience.

I know of writers who are so driven, they say they cannot *not* write. I’m not one of them. For me there is often a substantial distance between an idea and its execution (whether fiction or non-fiction).

A familiar exhortation for writers is, “Write what you know.” Well, here are a few things i have been coming to know lately…

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Art, with love and intelligence…

sand-art

Wow — i can hardly believe it’s been a whole month since i’ve posted!

I expect to be a bit more prolific here eventually. In the meantime, here’s a quote to hold us over…

“Everyone who works with love and with intelligence finds in the very sincerity of his love for nature and art a kind of armor against the opinions of other people.”

(Vincent Van Gogh)

The gift of spring — it’s the thaw that counts…

buds

Just because spring is here doesn’t mean winter is over.

Such is the message nature seems to send with early spring’s warming days but still freezing nights. The poet T.S. Eliot wrote that April is the cruelest month; the delivery of what we are being promised and afforded samplings of comes a bit later than the moment we feel ready for it — and takes longer than we care to be made to wait.

The delay of spring of another sort accounts for why i haven’t posted here as often lately as anticipated, my own elongated ‘April’ starting months ago, and similarly unkind in its aroused expectation and disappointing deferral. I’m referring to my extended recovery from a serious illness, which i wrote about last December. In that post, i explained why the illness and recovery would not be a primary topic for me on this blog.

I recently decided that doesn’t mean i won’t *ever* write about it…     Continue reading