Words tumble around in my brain and through my thoughts pleading to be released. Energy pours from my body as those words find their home; sometimes sliding right into place and other times impatiently hitting the page like gunfire, waiting to be moved, molded and formed into the perfect tale. The stories, too many to be imagined, long to be enjoyed, but fear keeps them inside. What if I share with the world and the world throws them back? Will my heart break? Will my soul bleed?
Doubt clouds my vision and I question if I am supposed to write beyond my own personal escape. Am I a storyteller and is this my gift? Are the words I savor meant to touch other lives? Stringing words together seems so elementary. We are taught from the beginning how to form sentences and how to link words. What makes the way I combine them different from anybody else? The uncertainty terrifies me, but my entire spirit sings and the world opens when I create. My words waltz and cha cha. They are seductive and create beyond a simple sentence. Deep in my bones I feel the difference, but the questions taunt me each time I grab my pen or turn on my keyboard. Is it fear of failure or success? Is there panic that such intimate parts of my soul could be scrutinized with anger, hate and dismissal? Why would my words draw others? Is it worth the struggle, pain and vulnerability? Do I believe enough to fail time and again? Perhaps my greatest fear is that writing is not my gift.
The path is unclear, but deep in my heart I feel the power. Words romance me as no lover ever could. They tempt and tease, urging me to draw people in, painting a different reality, even if for a few minutes. I long to spin an escape, projecting images in hearts and minds; creating characters that take them on an unimaginable journey; painting the innocence of a summer's day or the thrill of a Halloween night; rekindling the joy of experiencing the fantastic. I want my words to speak like a long lost lover, to caress hearts, draw tears and evoke laughter. The tales should be a springboard, teaching children how to dream and believe; coaxing them to find the world locked inside their imaginations rather than the world locked in an electronic box.
Everything I see and feel is in words and stories. A tree is not just a tree, it has a spirit and a story or poem that needs to be told. The words are full of depth and dimension, the story is thought provoking and beautiful. The poem flows with the life of an early spring creek. I yearn to bring that fullness back to a world focused on the surface, to elicite discovery and unearth images of dragons, heroes or forest glades, igniting individual vision and stoking the creative fire burning in every soul.
The words draw me back to my question; am I supposed to write for other people? I wish the path were clear and the answer was posted on a large billboard or written in stone. I wish I knew, without a doubt, that this is my journey and my calling. Unfortunately there is not a direct answer, no bolts of lightening or booming voices from above. The words beckon so I must decide. Logic says it is crazy to dream; better to place your odds on a sure thing; do not take chances; it is a hobby at best, but my heart sings a different truth. The shackles of an unimaginative world snap under the expansion of it breaking free; free from logic and status quo. My heart feels and sees knowledge and truth, but knows I need to take the leap without seeing what is underneath or on the other side. The words entice me to awaken their stories. Writing is pain, passing, life, death, fear, hope, belief, love and so much more. Writing is my path and my journey. The words are my destiny.
Saturday, July 30, 2016
Sunday, July 24, 2016
Summer
Every season dresses the earth with unique beauty; the pungent spice of autumn, the crisp sparkle of winter, the earthy sensation of spring and the heady abundance of summer. Through each season, though, I am reminded of how the summer speaks in a love language that grips my soul and entices me beyond any other season. I am a summer girl.
Summer days begin with warmth and sated, heavy air. Pre-dawn lacks the coarseness of winter and bears a soft, fullness that encourages relaxation. The hiss of early morning sprinklers, the rat-tat of water tapping homes and sidewalks rides the heated blanket of air, sneaking a stacatto rhythm through open windows. Birds stretch their wings, chirping contentment and singing sweetness into the symphony of the day. The music of the morning mixes with the flavors and scents of waking up.
As the sun slides lazily over the mountains, painting a brilliant pink path across dark blue, it seeks to wake up sleepy flowers. Vibrant petals are tucked away at night ready to burst forth with the first morning kiss. The air is lazy and rolls to tickle and caress rather than sting and bite. Bunnys sprawled in the grass nibble quietly watching other animals either wake up or retreat for sleep. Movements are slow and unhurried.
The sun stretches fully over the top of the horizon and its rays are magnified by the deep green of manicured lawns and leafy trees. Colors become bright and saturated and the morning song bursts with a different, but wonderful beat; cars rumbling by on the way to work followed closely by childhood chatter and laughter. Bike tires kissing concrete are in tune with the high pitched buzz of mosquitoes, and the deep drone of bees flower hopping. The scream of a hawk adds a taste of percussion to the song and the constant prattle of crows blends with the chorus. Life is abundant and the joy is evident! Abundance brings a slower rhythm encouraging neighbors to smile and talk for a bit, not driven in by the shriek of old man winter. The day feels relaxed and languid even as the time-clock beckons.
The days are interrupted, on occassion, when the dark, banking clouds of a thunderstorm march through. The wind soldiers ahead shaking flowers and trees, yanking at ponytails and whipping through windows; strong but lacking the ferocity of a winter wind. Lightning cracks the sky, shooting the sizzle of electricty into the air. Thunder rolls with the cadence of a military band and the air sparks with the excitement of a summer storm. Raindrops jump from the clouds and begin their assault on the day; splashing on pavement, dousing flowers and trees and aiming for an unsuspecting eye or back of the neck. As with most summer storms it blazes through, soaking streets, sidewalks and lawns; chasing kids on bikes, walkers, runners, golfers and baseball players. Just as swiftly it rolls out, leaving behind cleaner, laden air, with a hint of ozone and electricity. Vegetation smiles and the edges of everything appear a little softer.
As the days end, evenings stretch out giving the illusion of more time! The sun stays longer, turning cheeks pink, limbs brown and hair lighter. The smell of dinner on the grill mixes with fresh mowed grass. Golf courses prosper, encouraging a round or two. Baseball complexes come alive with the sharp crack of a bat, cheers from spectators and players and the distinct spitting of sunflower seeds. Dust, sunscreen and bug spray tug at memories of bygone summers and towns grow as summer celebrations, parades and fairs beckon friends and family back to the heart. Parks are full of dogs playing fetch, frisbees, pick up games of basketball and the raucus sound of kids sliding down slides, playing catch and squeezing every ounce of sun out of the day. The sense of urgency has disappeared and everyone is content to savor every moment that the season brings!
When the sun finally pulls the last of its beauty behind the mountains, leaving a quiet trail of orange and red, the night quiets down. A stray laugh rolls on the air, a dog or two raises the twilight bark and a muted converstion carries from one window to another. The night stills and the day is complete. The fullness and abundance of a summer day closes its eyes leaving a trail of happiness, contentment and in my case speaking to my soul as no other season is able.
Summer days begin with warmth and sated, heavy air. Pre-dawn lacks the coarseness of winter and bears a soft, fullness that encourages relaxation. The hiss of early morning sprinklers, the rat-tat of water tapping homes and sidewalks rides the heated blanket of air, sneaking a stacatto rhythm through open windows. Birds stretch their wings, chirping contentment and singing sweetness into the symphony of the day. The music of the morning mixes with the flavors and scents of waking up.
As the sun slides lazily over the mountains, painting a brilliant pink path across dark blue, it seeks to wake up sleepy flowers. Vibrant petals are tucked away at night ready to burst forth with the first morning kiss. The air is lazy and rolls to tickle and caress rather than sting and bite. Bunnys sprawled in the grass nibble quietly watching other animals either wake up or retreat for sleep. Movements are slow and unhurried.
The sun stretches fully over the top of the horizon and its rays are magnified by the deep green of manicured lawns and leafy trees. Colors become bright and saturated and the morning song bursts with a different, but wonderful beat; cars rumbling by on the way to work followed closely by childhood chatter and laughter. Bike tires kissing concrete are in tune with the high pitched buzz of mosquitoes, and the deep drone of bees flower hopping. The scream of a hawk adds a taste of percussion to the song and the constant prattle of crows blends with the chorus. Life is abundant and the joy is evident! Abundance brings a slower rhythm encouraging neighbors to smile and talk for a bit, not driven in by the shriek of old man winter. The day feels relaxed and languid even as the time-clock beckons.
The days are interrupted, on occassion, when the dark, banking clouds of a thunderstorm march through. The wind soldiers ahead shaking flowers and trees, yanking at ponytails and whipping through windows; strong but lacking the ferocity of a winter wind. Lightning cracks the sky, shooting the sizzle of electricty into the air. Thunder rolls with the cadence of a military band and the air sparks with the excitement of a summer storm. Raindrops jump from the clouds and begin their assault on the day; splashing on pavement, dousing flowers and trees and aiming for an unsuspecting eye or back of the neck. As with most summer storms it blazes through, soaking streets, sidewalks and lawns; chasing kids on bikes, walkers, runners, golfers and baseball players. Just as swiftly it rolls out, leaving behind cleaner, laden air, with a hint of ozone and electricity. Vegetation smiles and the edges of everything appear a little softer.
As the days end, evenings stretch out giving the illusion of more time! The sun stays longer, turning cheeks pink, limbs brown and hair lighter. The smell of dinner on the grill mixes with fresh mowed grass. Golf courses prosper, encouraging a round or two. Baseball complexes come alive with the sharp crack of a bat, cheers from spectators and players and the distinct spitting of sunflower seeds. Dust, sunscreen and bug spray tug at memories of bygone summers and towns grow as summer celebrations, parades and fairs beckon friends and family back to the heart. Parks are full of dogs playing fetch, frisbees, pick up games of basketball and the raucus sound of kids sliding down slides, playing catch and squeezing every ounce of sun out of the day. The sense of urgency has disappeared and everyone is content to savor every moment that the season brings!
When the sun finally pulls the last of its beauty behind the mountains, leaving a quiet trail of orange and red, the night quiets down. A stray laugh rolls on the air, a dog or two raises the twilight bark and a muted converstion carries from one window to another. The night stills and the day is complete. The fullness and abundance of a summer day closes its eyes leaving a trail of happiness, contentment and in my case speaking to my soul as no other season is able.
Monday, July 4, 2016
Freedom!
The morning has a jumpstart on me as I get ready for my run. My body is tired, having slept very little last night and my equilibrium is off. I am moving slowly and much later than normal, but today of all days I need to run. Today is July 4th, Independence Day!
Getting ready I hear the birds singing and chirping. There is wind, but it is still a bright, sunny, beautiful day. The pre-run rituals center me and help me prepare; lacing up my running shoes, putting in the earbuds, turning on the run tracker and finally filling my body with music!! Immediately as I head up my first hill I realize this is going to be a difficult run. My body is heavy, my legs are like rusted iron, I am already parched and the desire to stop is so strong I can taste it. The battle begins of mind over matter!
Attacking the hill, though, I think about what today actually means. Today is a celebration of freedom or as our local event has been aptly named, Freedom has a Birthday! Pushing my body I realize how thankful I am that because of visionaries before me and men and women who have sworn to protect our freedoms I am blessed with the choice to run or not to run. I can dress for my run so that I am comfortable and not too hot. I can set out on my own and know I am safe. Even in the early morning hours when my shoes usually hit the asphalt I know I am safe.
I crest the top of the hill and truly look around. The sky is a brilliant blue with just hints of cotton candy clouds to break it up. The warm sunshine kisses my cheeks and the wind tugs not so gently on my ponytail. I know this neighborhood, as I know almost all of the other neighborhoods in our town. The homes sit side by side, decked out with flowers, trees, and the brilliance of green grass. I know these people, friends and aquaintances with whom we have created stories and memories. We have experienced trials, heartbreak, cried and laughed with each other. We have watched as our children have grown; some moving on, some on the cusp of an entirely new life and some just experiencing their first precious breaths. We have cheered at sporting events, clapped at awards ceremonies and watched as some have stumbled, fallen and then made the choice to get back up. Our children are blessed as they experience the freedom to grow up without limitations, knowing they can be or do anything they choose. Nobody else will decide their path and if they start down one direction and decide to change course, they can.
My body finds a rhythm and my shoes begin to dance with the asphalt. I tackle another hill and think of my famiy and friends who have made the decision to don a uniform and protect the freedom of our great country; my brother, cousins, nieces, grandfathers and friends. I am so thankful for their sacrifice, knowing they have tackled miles and miles of hills and endured experiences many of us can't even imagine. Some have made the ultimate sacrifice and some return with ghosts and shadows. Freedom is not free and I am thankful for the men and women who have chosen to pay that price for us.
Turning a corner the sun is now caressing my back. The wind pushes against me and my feet continue to eat up miles. My body still struggles, but it endures joyfully as I think about the day ahead! Later, we will head down to the park to mingle with friends and neighbors. Booths decked out in red, white and blue, will be set up all around the park promoting small businesses, charities, political parties, local youth groups and many other organizations. We will walk around, laugh with friends, eat funnel cakes and ice cream . We will grill hamburgers and share a meal with Grandparents and will be truly thankful that we have this opportunity.
I am acutely aware that many things in our country are not perfect. I know many issues need addressed and systems need changed. I worry about what our children will be facing when they are our age. But, I believe when you focus on negative you draw more negativity. I choose to focus on the positive and be thankful for what we have; look at things with an attitude of gratitude. Today I choose to focus on the wonderful things, starting with our freedom. We have freedom to live and work where we choose, the freedom to speak our opinion on political matters, shop where we want, raise our children (as many as we want) the way we want, run when and where we want and to be who we want.
As I struggle through the final mile I am thankful and blessed. I run for those who can't, for those who did before me and for those that will after me. I run for those who gave the ultimate sacrifice, allowing me to run without worry, and for those that continue to protect our freedom. I run for those who were lost too early and never experienced life, for those who lived long full lives and for everyone in between. I run for and with freedom!
Happy Independence Day!!
Getting ready I hear the birds singing and chirping. There is wind, but it is still a bright, sunny, beautiful day. The pre-run rituals center me and help me prepare; lacing up my running shoes, putting in the earbuds, turning on the run tracker and finally filling my body with music!! Immediately as I head up my first hill I realize this is going to be a difficult run. My body is heavy, my legs are like rusted iron, I am already parched and the desire to stop is so strong I can taste it. The battle begins of mind over matter!
Attacking the hill, though, I think about what today actually means. Today is a celebration of freedom or as our local event has been aptly named, Freedom has a Birthday! Pushing my body I realize how thankful I am that because of visionaries before me and men and women who have sworn to protect our freedoms I am blessed with the choice to run or not to run. I can dress for my run so that I am comfortable and not too hot. I can set out on my own and know I am safe. Even in the early morning hours when my shoes usually hit the asphalt I know I am safe.
I crest the top of the hill and truly look around. The sky is a brilliant blue with just hints of cotton candy clouds to break it up. The warm sunshine kisses my cheeks and the wind tugs not so gently on my ponytail. I know this neighborhood, as I know almost all of the other neighborhoods in our town. The homes sit side by side, decked out with flowers, trees, and the brilliance of green grass. I know these people, friends and aquaintances with whom we have created stories and memories. We have experienced trials, heartbreak, cried and laughed with each other. We have watched as our children have grown; some moving on, some on the cusp of an entirely new life and some just experiencing their first precious breaths. We have cheered at sporting events, clapped at awards ceremonies and watched as some have stumbled, fallen and then made the choice to get back up. Our children are blessed as they experience the freedom to grow up without limitations, knowing they can be or do anything they choose. Nobody else will decide their path and if they start down one direction and decide to change course, they can.
My body finds a rhythm and my shoes begin to dance with the asphalt. I tackle another hill and think of my famiy and friends who have made the decision to don a uniform and protect the freedom of our great country; my brother, cousins, nieces, grandfathers and friends. I am so thankful for their sacrifice, knowing they have tackled miles and miles of hills and endured experiences many of us can't even imagine. Some have made the ultimate sacrifice and some return with ghosts and shadows. Freedom is not free and I am thankful for the men and women who have chosen to pay that price for us.
Turning a corner the sun is now caressing my back. The wind pushes against me and my feet continue to eat up miles. My body still struggles, but it endures joyfully as I think about the day ahead! Later, we will head down to the park to mingle with friends and neighbors. Booths decked out in red, white and blue, will be set up all around the park promoting small businesses, charities, political parties, local youth groups and many other organizations. We will walk around, laugh with friends, eat funnel cakes and ice cream . We will grill hamburgers and share a meal with Grandparents and will be truly thankful that we have this opportunity.
I am acutely aware that many things in our country are not perfect. I know many issues need addressed and systems need changed. I worry about what our children will be facing when they are our age. But, I believe when you focus on negative you draw more negativity. I choose to focus on the positive and be thankful for what we have; look at things with an attitude of gratitude. Today I choose to focus on the wonderful things, starting with our freedom. We have freedom to live and work where we choose, the freedom to speak our opinion on political matters, shop where we want, raise our children (as many as we want) the way we want, run when and where we want and to be who we want.
As I struggle through the final mile I am thankful and blessed. I run for those who can't, for those who did before me and for those that will after me. I run for those who gave the ultimate sacrifice, allowing me to run without worry, and for those that continue to protect our freedom. I run for those who were lost too early and never experienced life, for those who lived long full lives and for everyone in between. I run for and with freedom!
Happy Independence Day!!
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