Me and My Distal Fibula

The universe has given me notice: Slow down or I will slow you down.  On Sunday, while at a retreat near Hood Canal, I slipped on a grassy hill and fell, twisting my ankle. I don’t see the orthopedic specialist until next week, but it is broken at least in one place and maybe more. I’m not supposed to put any weight on it at all, which seems, frankly, impossible, even confined to the house. I’ve been having a major pity-party over the whole drama. I am writing this post, however, to tell you the pity-party is over. This is an opportunity to sit in a chair with my feet up and read and write. What I love most in the world! Why would I not embrace it?

This is not a question just for me, or just for this moment in my life. Why do we avoid what we most desire? Why do we watch television and play on our cell-phones and eat too many chips or too many Hershey’s Kisses? Why don’t we instead of spending our time, invest our time in what we really, deep down, in our heart of hearts want most to achieve?

Steven Pressfield’s Writing Wednesday topic fits in nicely here. Embrace what you love, folks. That’s the only way.

Gregory Peck as Captain Ahab

 

 

Copper Wimmin

The last time this song crossed my radar I posted it to Facebook. This time I believe I am meant to post it here.

Learning to Work

I recently read Theo Pauline Nestor’s Writing Is My Drink and I am happy to HIGHLY recommend it. Among other things, Nestor reminded me of a very important essay that my friend, Priscilla Long, made me read years ago when I was struggling to write my doctoral dissertation. Here’s a link to the article, from Nestor’s blog: Virginia Valian’s “Learning to Work.”   It is an article that all writers–especially writers who are standing in their own way–should read.

 

Your first responsibility…

angel2I’ve been meaning to share a passage from Ann Tremaine Linthorst’s wonderful book, Mothering as a Spiritual Journey. A conversation with friends–Abby, Carolynne, and Liz–brought it to mind. One doesn’t have to be a literal mother to benefit from it. Think of it as a strategy to be used any time you feel overwhelmed and doubt your own power, your own “place of dominion” (as Ann calls motherhood).

One day when Ann’s sons were small, her husband walked into the room and found her holding the boys and weeping. Not happy tears. Overwhelmed. He said to her, “kindly,” she points out, “but firmly”:

“You’ve got to get happy. I don’t care what it takes, quit work, get a sitter, whatever. But you’ve got to get happy, because the whole family suffers when you cry like this.”

Ann continues, “At that moment, I saw clearly that my first and foremost responsibility was to find resources for myself, to find the foundation for peace and joy.” (26)