Days of Learning, Days of Growing

Courtesy of BJ Jones Photography

This past couples of weeks has been interesting. Have you ever had a time in your life when you seem to have gone back to school, but you don’t go to class? It’s as if everywhere you go, everything you encounter are lessons of one form or another.

What do you do with the experience of meeting a person casually who begins telling you their life story at that moment, for seemingly no other reason than because you happen to stand next to them? And what do you do when something in what they say “clicks” in your head audibly, telling you that this bit of information, this insight is something that must be remembered?

Here’s another example. I’ve been concentrating on several small projects lately aside from the blogs and website. I send out at least two, sometimes three, submissions each week; poetry at least once and fiction. I’m putting together a growing list of submission markets for both genres.

My biggest project at present is my book of poetry “The Moon Sees All.” It’s out with my beta readers. It’s being poked, prodded, and evaluated for necessary/suggested changes to make it absolutely irresistible to publishers. That’s an enormous step for me.

My rejection rate is decreasing. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. I’d just like to know the reason. In the meantime, I’ll accept this change and the blessing.

Life seems more settled for me in many ways right now. I actively write less, but produce better, given the acceptances lately. I don’t feel harried any longer, which is another blessing. On top of all that, these tiny lessons in changing my thoughts, attitudes, aspirations, etc. have begun bearing fruit in small but effective ways.

Perhaps, in the end, that’s really the take-away for life. Small changes—choosing to spend the day enjoying the outdoors and appreciating those natural gifts we can only experience where they live—repay us with fresher minds and hearts. Our spirits are rejuvenated because we focused on something outside ourselves for a while.

Doing the dishes allows for quiet thinking time. It isn’t the task that’s so important, it’s the time you spend with yourself, considering and pondering those caches of thoughts tucked away in mental closets that you’ve not had time for lately. Mundane chores, while necessary to a tidy household, are also opportunities to review, renew, and reconnect with that piece of yourself that you’ve neglected.

At least, that’s what I’ve concluded. For instance, a few weeks back I showed everyone my office area and how bad it was in the disorder department.  I’m about to get radical with it. I’m clearing out those things that don’t grow corn for me anymore.

About half of the items occupying my space will be eliminated in the next few weeks. I am simplifying my life, my work, and my intentions. The goals remain the same. It’s the approach that needs a clean sweep.

And there you have it. Part of my studying has led me here. The rest comes from lessons encountered willy-nilly in unexpected places.

Things should get really interesting before long. I’m looking forward to it.

Now, let me ask you again. Have you been given surprising lessons lately? Leave a comment and tell me about them. We all have them. It’s whether we recognize their delivery or not.

Until later,

Claudsy

Turning Off Alarm Bells, Building Structure, and Fulfilling Dreams

When I left teaching, my life drifted for quite a while, not because I couldn't think of something for which to use my time. On the contrary, I could think of dozens of uses for time, but to what purpose. The idea of purpose kept nagging at me. I didn't seem to have any, and the realization ticked me off.

No longer stranded on a foggy, deserted beach, I took up writing again where I’d left off years before. Oh, there were no screenplays or commercials. There was no research for PBS documentaries on spec. I no longer did corporate writing. Instead, I began slowly by learning to write specifically for children.

What does this have to do with alarms, structured lives, and fulfilling one’s life dreams? Everything!

My first desire as a child was to write. I came to a place where my need to fulfill that purpose, held so long within a tiny corner of my being, refused to remain in the shadows. My life was worth more than early retirement, disability, or relaxation.

My writing brought me here, to this new cosmos of cyber energy and virtual reality, completely peopled and conveniently housed. I made an interesting personal discovery the other day; one which I intend to do something about.

I’ve watched my day skewered by bits of life’s battle with time. Errands, email, writing prompts, publication submissions, social media networks, you name it. This goes on each day as I run to catch up. I stopped running today. I took a nap when I was tired.

I got three poems out to, for me, a new market. I singled out a new submission to another market for tomorrow. I didn’t work any further my author’s page. That will happen some other time. I did get two other blog posts done. I didn’t complete a guest post that I need soon.

Yesterday these unfinished items would have nagged with the voice of guilt as I went to bed; today, not so much. I made a decision to stop battling with time. I can do what I can do. That reality is the only one that matters. I don’t have to apologize to anyone for not working 18 hours at my desk each day to complete goals I set for myself. I only have to move the goals to eliminate the guilt.

Each problem has both a solution and an opportunity; a solution to correct the problem or minimize it; an opportunity to take something unexpected from the problem and create a new project, attitude, viewpoint, or blessing.

So much of our day is taken up with the business of others. Some of us choose to take up the business of ourselves and what’s good for us. When we live at the behest of others, we only exist for ourselves. Existence isn’t the same as living. Living takes energy, gives energy, and creates beauty.

Restructuring life takes time and effort, but it pays for itself in the end. Lately, I've had little real time to write as I want to, dreamed about, and planned for. That situation is about to change.

I’ll still blog, but my blogging will have morphed into something new. I’ll be writing more poetry, more guest blogs for other sites, and working far harder on my own books. And I’m looking forward to this new avenue of endeavor.

The world is changing as am I. It’s my hope that each of you will be along for the ride, however long I stay in the saddle. Stay tuned for my announcement of things to come and places to go.

Until then,

Claudsy

Kalispell, Comparisons, and Creating Books

Any time you’re away from a place for an extended period of time, you take a good hard look at it when you return.

Sister Jo and I returned to Kalispell Monday. Given my poor eyesight, it generally takes me a bit longer to pick up on changes along city streets. This time I didn’t have any difficulty spotting some of the changes.

Our list of notations began before we arrived in Kalispell. They started along the I-90 from the Idaho state line. The high north-country had moved from winter’s grip into its other season—construction.

By the time we entered Kalispell we were mentally prepared for other observations to add to our list of changes.

A car dealership gone from one street, a new building going up on another, the new highway bypass opened up with the requisite stoplight all made for immediate notation. Work begun on the perimeter of the apartment complex parking lot in December had begun again this past week. Winter hiatus was finished evidently.

There were small signs of change everywhere.

One of the things we had to get accustomed to on the road was the fact that change happens quickly, though some flavors linger over distance. We recognized the fact that we constantly remembered certain aspects of the places we left behind. It takes little to recall a place that has affected us in some way. The result is an automatic comparison to where we are now and an evaluation of which is better and why.

The funny part is that even little kids do this “I remember when… and it was… I think I liked it better then.”

So it has been for us throughout our trip. When we returned to Montana, we got to do it again but with many more comparisons. We had all of that knowledge from our previous life here and all that we’d experienced while on the road. I’ve noticed that it makes for a heady combination.

How does one compare the Redwoods with Glacier Park? Which is better—a beach or lakeside? Is there a better?

You see the difficulty, I’m sure. I find myself trying to decide where we found the best food, or whether the people here are as friendly and helpful as those we found in Tennessee, or if I’ll be able to find pine needles here as long as the ones I found in Idaho to make my pine-needle baskets.

On top of all that is the knowledge that we get to travel this mental road every day we work on our book. I have this virtual picture of us sitting around our work area doing an imitation of “This Is Your Life” and arguing about the virtues of each place and how it affected us and why or just what happened at that convenience store we patronized at that last little beach town along the Oregon coast.

I’ve already begun the comparisons. In the end that is part of this process that we must go through in order to put together our thoughts for our book. They are necessary for the writing and the layout design.

I wonder, though, if we all don’t continually write our lives’ books from those small, silent comparisons of things seen, conversations voiced, and people known. Are we, when all is said and done, merely a compilation of comparisons from our years of life?

I know that memoirs are something we all have. The question is—do they make us what we are? You tell me.

Until later,

Claudsy

Get Ready, Have Rake, Make Leaf Pile

Well, friends, autumn is here and with it comes cooler temperatures, skies of a different blue, and nature’s colors. Some people are forlorn this season. Throughout the Midwest, due to the drought conditions of the summer, trees have already lost many of their leaves and those left behind are a basic brown. I agree. Not nice at all.

Here in the north country, though, we’ve begun the changing of seasonal robes. Snow came to the high country in August. Now, the larch are turning into candle flames of gold among their evergreen neighbors. Burning bushes are flaunting crimson twigs for all to see. The aspen shake their shiny golden leaves in the slightest breeze.

And confused maples have taken to sporting tiny helicopter wings among still-green leaves. Crabapples are ready to begin dropping fruit for human and squirrel alike. Huckleberries still vie for bears’ attentions with big, bright rose hips.

The big game braves the roadside for a chance at prime vegetation. Migrations have begun of geese, cranes, and stork. There are many things to take stock of during this season of winding down from high summer and preparation for winter’s slumber.

For many this is the time for festivals and celebration. Harvests are going on throughout the country. Great pumpkins are showing up in supermarkets everywhere. Winter squash seduce the cook with varied colors and shapes--so many from which to choose.

Apples and pears scent the air with aromas that cause mouths to water. It’s time to enjoy the fall of leaves and the closing of the growing season.

Here are some considerations for the future. Soon children of all ages will ring doorbells across the country in search of the elusive treats to compromise tooth enamel and cause a sugar high. Turkeys will come down in price as growers everywhere bring the birds to stores where wives and husbands will pick and choose just the right one to grace their table at Thanksgiving.

Once that day’s had its run, a tree will rise in living/family room. Kids and adults will bestow upon its boughs a multitude of colorful ornaments, tinsel and ribbon or garland. Christmas stars and snowflakes will flutter among the decorations through the house, spill out onto the lawn, or up to the roof to proclaim this new season within the winter season.

Or, Hanukkah specialties will be brought to bear on the house and home for the family of that faith. Kwanzaa will take precedence for others. And some will ignore the time of year all together.

A few days after that second turkey or big ham or corned beef, the year will change its name for another, and our lives will move on into another cycle. It never stops. Only we make the seasonal changes of attitude, expectation, and enjoyment.

This annual progression anchors our lives within a somewhat predictable pattern. If any of the holidays were removed, we’d all have a difficult time adjusting--if we could adjust at all. If Autumn arrived in November and Winter moved to February, we’d all panic. It’s that predictability that keeps us following our personal calendars of events.

For now we are safe from any untoward elimination of festivities. Apple cider will flow as freely as last year's. Pumpkins will roll into your house for the annual carving of Jack-O-Lanterns for placement on front stoops. Turkey with stuffing can still be planned for late November.

It’s nice having a calendar that still works for the adult stage of the child that you were, isn’t it?

Have fun with this season. It doesn’t last all that long and offers many opportunities to revisit that inner child of yours. Get out and see whatever color comes your way. Play with the clouds as when you were a kid. Find the dragons, dogs, and castles that float within the sky’s white vapor shapes. Rake the leaves, only to jump into the pile when you finished.

Who says they must stay in a pile? Who made that rule? That’s the only enjoyment in raking leaves in the first place.


See y’all later.

Claudsy

**NOTE: All photos used here are from BJ Jones Photography at: http://bjjoneseyes.shutterbugstorefront.com/