Tag: self exploration

Five Minutes of Fame

Every two weeks in the city where I live, a small group of bloggers and affiliates meets at a locally owned coffee shop to chat, troubleshoot, or share tips and ideas. I had been blogging somewhat consistently for a couple of weeks and wanting to keep the momentum; I finally made it to a meeting. As luck would have it, a journalist from a local news outlet had just surprised the group facilitator to do a story about Blogging and was asking to interview a few group members – today.

In one serendipitous moment, I found myself as one of only two bloggers to show up for the meeting today. I agreed to interview as an honest to goodness “blogger” with about ten posts under my belt and a page in the middle of reconstruction. The interview went well considering it was spur-of-the-moment. I was surprised at how relaxed I felt as I enthusiastically spoke of my “Self Censored” page for my five minutes of fame.

I watched the segment air this morning which caused cobwebs and dust to blow around those corners of my mind. I remember watching myself after another interview in what seems to be another lifetime. My dark brown hair was blown dry in a smooth shoulder length bob with professional, understated makeup. The dark gray skirt suit that I wore to important meetings was freshly out of the cleaners, and I wore a royal blue sweater because everyone still tells me that is definitely my color. I was to talk about a new independent living housing program for our clients and a family group which would help everyone with the transition. I had practiced and had index cards, and yet I froze. If not for my co-worker’s help, I would have been completely lost – what a disaster I thought. Whose idea was this anyway?

Today as I watched myself, I chuckled. I looked so comfortable in my own skin. My hair is short, gray and wild. My clothes were not pressed or laid out from the day before; plus my voice was still hoarse from a recent bout of laryngitis. I wasn’t prepared for the TV that day; I was flying by the seat of my pants, and yet I wasn’t afraid.

All is not perfect. My GPS doesn’t work very well, and the road is still crooked with plenty of bumps and ridges. I am content in my journey though, and I’m looking forward to seeing what’s around the bend. I think my younger self would be proud and relieved.

How would you answer the age-old question? What would you say to your younger self?

AtoZ Challenge – oh, BEHAVE

Blog challengea2z-h-small.

Here I sit on my second day at the challenge. I realize other members have very clear goals for their themes, but because I was living in the moment, I jumped in without thinking it through. So far I’ve started to think about the next theme B, as soon as I posted the first letter A – ABOUT. This morning I started to write about BEING: Existence. In keeping with my mantra of keeping it simple, I chose the definitions from Oxford Dictionaries. These include being alive, living and my favorite – the nature or essence of a person. This “essence” is really who we are; it’s the spark, it’s what makes us act the way we do depending on the circumstance. It’s what stirs inside when we are excited and hopeful or feels like a lead brick in our stomach when we get bad news.

I was just getting warmed up on this topic, or maybe I saw it was eventually heading towards that other B-word – Boring when a thought crossed my mind “Oh behave!”. It was Austen Powers in my head. True, I didn’t want to get all deep and philosophical about my existence. Getting all straight-laced, proper and preachy is easy. I decided instead to switch topic because as the oldest child, it seemed that “oh behave!” was all I heard from my mom.

I suppose she thought my being alive had a particular purpose. She reminded me to be a good girl, to get good grades, to stop whining or being mouthy or whatever because I needed to be an example for my younger siblings. To be fair, it certainly wasn’t the only thing I heard, my mom was pretty cool, and because I loved her, when I was home, I behaved, the way she wanted for her higher purpose.

Now and then I needed to take off my nerd hat and shake out my uncontrollable hair. Not that I was a wild thing or at least I never really thought myself in that way, but the other day in my memorabilia box I found a note. The note is probably 50 years old. It was from one of my best friends in high school, and it appears that she passed it to me when we crossed in the hallway during a change of class. In her note, she said she had to talk to me in person about something urgent. To which she added,” I know you’ll understand, I’ve seen your crazy side, I don’t think many people have, but I know ….”. I’m not one of those people who need a little “something, something” to get the party started but she was a quiet and serious girl; any number of fun things may have felt crazy to her. We loosely stay in touch through social media now, but I didn’t contact her to see if she remembered what that was all about.  I wonder if she’s learned to get “crazy”.

I am fully aware that I still I have a “crazy side.” I have great fun with friends and family, but mostly I keep it contained until I’m with my granddaughters or my grand nieces and nephews. Sometimes I hear “oh behave, Mom!” from behind my daughter’s stern grin. I enjoy the payback though. It doesn’t take much; a silly walk, a funny face or changing the words to a favorite song as you are singing as loud as you can. I love when we all get to that place where our bellies ache from laughing.

Enjoying those moments is the essence of my being, of my existence. When I’m feeling out of sorts and not very jolly, I seek out chances to laugh or even scavenge for some giggles. I try not to let the well run dry because that’s how I manage to keep it together. These are the memories that I summon up when I need enough energy to climb uphill or swim against the current.

How do you do it? What is the essence of you?

A to Z challenge – About

Blog challengea2z-h-small.

Today, as I’ve started to feel human after a terrible allergic episode, I’m trying to engage in the A to Z Challenge that I signed up for last month. I’ve decided to keep it simple and start the Challenge with ABOUT and perhaps try to explain why I’ve decided to write a blog that seems to be about me.

I had been writing a blog with a running title of “Self-Censored/ A blog about me. Verbal snapshots of a simple life”. The other day I was discussing my blog with someone who asked, “why would you write a blog about yourself, it’s not like you are someone famous … You need to write about something that your reader will value and come back for …”. These were good points, so I took the information and filed it in my brain under “THINGS TO PONDER.”  Here I am, trying to ponder as I participate in the A to Z challenge.  Please join me.

Over the past few months, I finally had the chance to go through boxes of old photos and family memorabilia – which is probably why my allergies are out of control. The treasures I found prompted me to contact some people and take an opportunity to sit and talk. Some of these folks I’ve known all my life, some all of theirs, and others for at least a couple of decades. A constant theme in these conversations has been what was going on beyond the photo, beyond the eye of the camera.

It was in those memories that we learned things about each other that were hidden in plain sight. For example – who knew that you sang and played guitar on stage at a coffee house in New York City when you were in college? Or that you had looked up who Ty Cobb was and were proud to be part of the team, wear your uniform and play at those little league games that your Dad dragged you to each weekend. Who knew you didn’t really get lost on the subway that day when everyone was so worried – instead, you had a crazy adventure with friends. Who knew you stepped up to take care of the family dog and neighborhood strays when your older sister went off to college? Who knew that at age ten you already knew how to make something beautiful out of repurposed materials? Who knew that you always wanted to play the clarinet but when it was your turn to chose, the trumpet was the only instrument left, and yet you thoroughly enjoyed jammin’ with the band? Who knew all these things, these little sparks, you would carry in your heart alone until the time was right to shine?

I want my reader to feel a smile creep across the face as he or she joins me in the memory. Do you remember walking out of the comfort zone and then feeling ecstatic and relieved all at once. What a feeling to know you survived – you did it, and you enjoyed it! What if you haven’t yet? Well, why not. Tomorrow is another opportunity. What if you don’t have an experience readily available in your toolbox? I’m hoping you can borrow the energy from one of the stories I share.

I worked in a state-run system of human services for many years where I provided rehabilitative and supportive counseling for countless clients. Some didn’t have much of an opportunity to make happy memories, but somehow they knew there was something better, and that’s what kept them going. Some folks, knowing that they had nothing more to lose, took more chances. The strength and resilience I saw in these people were a blessing to my own life.

Those are the kind of stories I want to share – true stories of simple everyday people, putting one foot in front of the other walking the path before us. Few of us can skate through life on Easy Street. Most of us will follow the scenic route with all its twists and turns. Let’s take plenty “snapshots”.

The lovers, the dreamers and me

For this assignment, I try to conjure up a visual of who will read my blog- my audience. I’ve spent the past couple of days visiting other writers, looking at style and content while trying to imagine their respective audience. I find that there are some fabulous sites out there and I try not to be intimidated by the talent or expertise that I see. I know that I tend to enjoy sites that have a personal component even though it may be a business page. I decided to focus on MY passion – why am I writing? I’m writing to tell a story – simple as that.

Someday I may publish these writings for my granddaughters. However, I am envisioning my reader today, and that person looks something like me – in my soul. Regardless of gender, it will be someone who understands that there are great treasures in our simple moments.  It’s not an original idea I understand. I’ve seen memes that say “we do not remember days, we remember moments.” or “Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.”  I’m sure you have too.  I picture my reader as someone who just needs an interruption, a break from this crazy, fast and furious train ride that we call life.  That someone is looking for a pause button– a quick light, read to go with a cup of coffee, hot tea or a glass of wine at the end of the day.

When I was a young adult, every weekend my siblings and I would take turns visiting our grandparents. During a difficult work week, I started to look forward to the day when I would drive my mother to her parents’ house – especially when my grandmother’s younger sister was in town. She was sassy, and her green eyes sparkled. She knew how to bring a blush of color to my mild and meek grandmother’s cheeks.

It was that time when people still sat on the front porch to talk and greet the neighbors as they walked by. We had an unspoken appointment with my mother’s sisters and every now once in a while one of my uncles or another cousin would join us. We would sit for hours and have a beverage with a delicious treat from our favorite bakery.  My grandparents took turns with weekly news updates about the extended family which included anecdotes of comparable events of long ago and almost always ended with the question “What is the world coming to?” This simple statement would lead us down a crooked path filled with the twists and turns of current events and politics.

I came to treasure those afternoons filled with stories. I felt connected to the generations before me who had overcome hardships that I couldn’t even imagine and yet, they sang and laughed and wrote poems.

As I was thinking about the mood and the spirit of my blog, the melody of the “Rainbow Connection” kept playing in the background of my mind and I hummed along as I wrote.

…Who said that every wish
Would be heard and answered
When wished on the morning star
Somebody thought of that
And someone believed it
And look what it’s done so far
What’s so amazing
That keeps us star gazing
What so we think we might see
Someday we’ll find it
That Rainbow Connection
The lovers the dreamers and me…

https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/S2DTLbTQj0I 

 

Learning the Fundamentals

Assignment 1

As I was growing older and wiser, I would tell myself – “when you retire, you can devote time to writing”. I did retire, but one thing led to another, and I put writing on the high shelf in the storage closet for a bit longer. I enjoy writing, and I’ve started blogging at least 3 times before. I took the Blogging 101 course a couple of times, but after it was finished, I had a hard time staying committed. I like working in community, so I’m back to fundamentals, brushing up my skills in order to start a writing challenge.

In trying to zero in on my purpose for the blog, I went back to look at unfinished projects on my computer. I think I will stick with the subject about me. My blog is “Self-Censored.” I’m not sure the play on words comes across – maybe I need to work on that. I hope blogging will get my juices flowing. I had been thinking of self-publishing a book about the “snapshots” of the life that I’ve lived with family and friends. When I look back at a snapshot in my mind, I try to envision how we each experienced that moment in time.

Old photos of my mom show a beautiful woman with style and poise, flawless skin- regardless of age and sparkling greens eyes. She always held her head high, defiant and fearless-usually looking straight at the camera. Outside of that frame, we knew she suffered a disabling neuromuscular disease, legal blindness and finally was taken from us by cancer at age 54. In spite of all her physical problems, her spirit WAS like the image in the pictures – beautiful and strong. People came to her for help and advice and she gave them whatever she had.

I believe this is s a universal experience. I am different things to different people. Each person has a version of the ME that they are comfortable with, a behavior or reaction they expect of me, but my Core is one. We all play different roles in a variety of situations, but we are always the star or protagonist in our own movie. We are mothers or fathers, children, lovers, bosses and underlings, angels or demons but no one knows what is truly in our hearts, what really motivates us- except ourselves.

I plan to share these verbal snapshots as I’m calling them and explore the characters in each scene. All stories will be based on real life but some will be edited, colored and “photo-shopped” with my imagination.

I hope you join me on my journey. I appreciate your feedback and assistance.