One Deep Breath-Stillness/Calm

Like most of you, most of my days are sooo crazy busy, it's really hard to find a moment to even think about stillness and calm, much less experience it. So, I make it a point to get up early every morning just to have some time when the house is totally quiet, and the world is all just for me.

waiting for dawn

coffee percolates

beside me

Armed with a fragrant mug filled to the brim, I grab my book and morning pages journal, and curl up in my favorite chair. The morning sun rises just outside the window, bathing the room in warm rainbows of light.

basking in sun glow

morning sky

blesses me

For that one hour, sipping my coffee, watching the day break, and hearing the morning songs of birds, I can breathe deeply and let the magic of words envelop me.

centering my heart

in quiet time~

such a gift

Without this moment of calm and stillness each morning, I feel wrong-footed and out of sorts all day long.

My son and daughter-in-law have been in visiting family and friends in Thailand and China for the past month. My son wrote today that the Asian people sum up their perception of life in America with these three words..."Fast, full, and busy." What an amazingly succinct description of the way we live, always trying to cram as much into every moment as possible, racing from one activity to the next. I find that I'm actively looking for ways to slow life down, to add more stillness and calm into my day, to find more of the quiet magic that my hour in the morning creates for me.

in stillness

fluttering hearts

breathe deep

for more thoughts on calm and stillness, go here

Bookmarked

One of my birthday traditions is to buy myself a new book (actually, I'll use any excuse to buy myself a book, so my birthday is just one of many!) Anyhow, last Friday (which was my birthday, in case you've forgotten) I hied myself to Barnes and Noble, fresh coupons in hand (love being a Readers Club Member) and grabbed up the latest offerings from two of my favorites~ Chris Bohjalian's Double Bind, and Jodi Picoult's, 19 Minutes. I haven't started to read either book yet, but I'm sure I'll enjoy them. I've been reading these authors for as long as they've been publishing. Bohjalian's first mainstream novel was Midwives, which I read long before it became an Oprah Book Club Selection. My introduction to Picoult came with Harvesting the Heart, which was her second novel, published in 1993. Each one of these authors has a unique way of embroiling their characters in an issue that faces all of us in modern society, and creating a fascinating, thought provoking web of actions and consequences that we can all relate to .

There's something interesting going on with these two novels, something that's never happened before with an author that I "follow." Bohjalian and Picoult have become "hot properties" on the bookstore circuit. Barnes and Noble is featuring Bohjalian's book in their new "on-line" book clubs, complete with a really cool 10 minute pod cast of the author at home, discussing his writing process, giving us a tour of his study, and talking about the book. Picoult seems to belong to Borders, who has it's own video of Jodi participating in a book group discussion with other readers (just like me and you!)

I have to admit, I feel a little wierd about this. It was fascinating to watch these videos, hear the authors speaking, see their homes, even (oh my god!) their studies, and the actual desks where they write. But I felt a little like the kid who sees their classroom teacher in the grocery store and thinks, "My gosh! Mrs. Smith actually eats food like the rest of us!" Over the many years that I've been reading and enjoying their work, I think I've put them on a bit of a pedestal. Now I see that they're just human beings, like me - Bohjalian is quite obsessive compulsive, particularly about his study, which was frighteningly organized and neat. Picoult has the most beautiful, expressive face, yet she is obviously much heavier than the picutres on her book jackets, which leads me to believe they've been "altered" to make her appear "more attractive," when she is gorgeous just as she is.

This new web driven marketing is probably a good thing for authors, at least in terms of sales volume. In some ways, it's exciting to see writer's becoming media figures, and I'm all for making reading (and writing!) more popular in today's society. I guess I'm a little uneasy about some of my favorite literary "heroes" becoming slaves to the media. I don't want them to give up their individuality, their unique way of expressing themselves, their particular art, just to serve some PR firm's idea of what will increase sales.

How about you? What's your take on the mass marketing of author's?

Sunday Scribblings-Dream Journey

I went on a bit of a journey last night, and I'm not quite sure whether it was a dream, or a nightmare. Perhaps I'll leave it until the end of the tale to decide... Yesterday, Jim and I drove out to Marine City, a small town about 90 miles from our home, where the chorus Jim sings with was giving a concert. I always enjoy hearing the group sing, but I usually prefer to arrive right at concert time, instead of two hours prior, the group's usual call time. Surely, I thought, I could find somewhere to pass the time before the concert- a bookstore, a coffee shop. Jim did an internet search and located a shopping mall just 3.7 miles from the performing arts center. Great, I thought. Even I couldn't get lost in 3.7 miles.

It was a beautiful day for a little road trip. With minimal traffic to impede our journey, were reached the freeway exit in record time. The remainder of the trip had us winding down a quiet two lane highway, lined with acres of now fallow fields, glistening with mositure from the recent early spring thaws.

We pulled into the parking lot just in time to greet several of Jim's "brothers in song" who were unloading their garment bags, music folders, and water bottles. Jim hastily grabbed up the Yahoo maps he had printed out and carefully stapled together. "Look," he instructed me, "you just take this road out here up to Wadham's, which looks like a dead end, then turn left on King, hop on the freeway going east. I can't tell exactly which exit the mall is, but it's probably this first one." He tossed the map collection into my lap, and hopped out of the car. "See you later!" he called cheerily.

Before I go further, I must confess that (1) I am utterly hopeless with directions, and (2) terrified of getting lost. I can't read maps (no, really, I can't!) and my natural sense of direction is~well, challenged, to say the least. "I hope so," I said, now surveying the remote landscape I had enjoyed just a moment eariler with great trepidation.

Gathering up my courage, I climbed into the driver's seat. I found the first road on my itinerary without difficulty, and a feeling of confidence began to creep into my mind. I was breezing happily along, when I decided to check the trip odometer. Wait~how could I have traveled 6.3 miles already?? The mall was only supposed to be 3.7 miles away, and I hadn't even reached the freeway? Well, the map was wrong, that's all, I thought. Sure enough, here was the dead end at King Road, where I was to turn left. With no oncoming traffic in either direction, I swung onto King, glancing at the digital compass which indicated I was traveling North. Like Gretel, in the famous fairy tale, I made a mental breadcrumb note that on my return trip, I should be traveling South on King.

After another 8.9 miles, I finally reached the freeway. The first exit promised nothing more that a Speedy Gas Station. After another 4.2 miles, I reached the next exit, which I had completely passed before I noticed what looked like an outlet mall~could that be the shopping mall I was looking for? I kept traveling, determined to turn around at the next exit. Suddenly, a large blue sign loomed in front of me. "Blue Water Bridge/Canada Next Exit."

Panic. Bridge? Canada? I glanced at the clock - I had been driving for 30 minutes already, and gone nowhere. My head was spinning...okay, okay, just turn around and go back exactly the way you came, I thought. Forget the shopping - I don't even like outlet malls all that much.

Anxiously taking the first of several exits marked "Bridge to Canada," I wheeled into the parking lot of Ron's Harbor House Restaurant and turned around. Back to the freeway - west toward Detroit (oh, blessed Detroit!)

By this time, the sun was setting, a glorious orange fireball that I would have enjoyed tremendously on any other day. Right now, however, I was driving directly into it, and the damn thing was completely blinding me! Wait - there's the King Road exit! A quick veer to the right, a left turn, double check the compass (South, thank God!), a deep breath. I'll be allright now.

I arrived back at the performing arts center in plenty of time for the concert, and I spent several moments just sitting in the car, reflecting on my journey. In some ways, I had set myself up for failure on that trip. Feeling anxious from the moment I left, second guessing myself along the way, not preparing myself by writing out directions, which I know I need to do based on my inability to read maps easily. I have often made those same mistakes on the journey that is my life, turning things that should have been a dream experience into a nightmare. Ending up nowhere near the place I intended to be, giving up in defeat, and going home feeling relieved, but also feeling like a failure.

Dreaming is great, and I've already determined to set some dream goals for myself. But the journey toward making those dreams come true will require a positive attitude, and a realistic plan of action.

"So," Jim asked, as we were getting into the car after the concert, "did you find a way to keep busy?"

"Oh, yes," I replied, "no problem at all!"

It's My (Blog) Birthday!

Actually, it's both of our bithdays- yes, March 9, 1956, was the day I made my own appearance on the world's stage. One year ago on this date, I decided to do something to lift myself from the doldrums I was wallowing in because I'd reached the famous half-century mark, and Becca's Byline was born. I've had writing dreams since I was just a little girl. I wrote my first "novel" when I was eight, and published a "newspaper" for my sixth grade class. I often played make-believe at being a writer for an international magazine, and my dad's big desk in our basement was "world headquarters" where I gave out writing assignments to all my friends, then edited their work. Words, and pages filled with words, excite me. I'm fascinated with the power words have of evoking emotions, informing minds, and changing hearts. I love studying words, playing with their rhythm, setting them out on the page and rearranging them like the pieces of an intricate puzzle. So, for my 50th birthday, I gave myself the gift of a word playground~this blog~a place to write and to share what I'd written with others.

My, what a gift it's turned out to be! I had absolutely no idea that by beginning this blog I'd be catapulted into a world filled with talented, courageous women, sharing their dreams, exploring their vision, healing their hurts. I've made friends all over the world who inspire me, educate me, and amaze me every single day. Because of this medium, I've scribbled every Sunday, delved into the new worlds of poetry and haiku, been emboldened to try some photography, and, wonder of all wonders, written a complete novel in one month!

I think I've stayed true to my intention when I wrote my first post...to share my thoughts on life in general, and my own in particular. What I never imagined was how much my life would be enriched by the thoughts, visions, and ideas of the people I've met in cyberspace, the people whose blogs I visit at least once a day for a dose of humor, wisdom, inspiration, and hope that there is more to this life in general than one person's daily grind, people whom I've come to care about, and think of as a great extended family.

So, I'm saying a huge THANK YOU to each of you for sharing the gifts of your wisdom and insight with me over the past year. I'm looking forward to meeting even more of you, and to many more adventures yet to come!

**photo courtesy of stockexpert

Write On Wednesday-Moodling Along

I have a new word to add to my word pool~you guessed it~"moodling." Not only do I like the sound of it, I like the definition too. It means (according to author Brenda Ueland, in her book If You Want to Write) "long, ineffecient, happy idling, dawdling, and puttering." I'd love to become more expert in all those things, so I'm happy to hear Ueland say that this ability to "moodle" is essential for a productive imagination. Inspiration comes slowly and quietly, Ueland continues. It comes in long walks, in lazy days spent gardening or knitting, or early mornings baking bread, it comes from sitting at the piano and really listening as you play through a sparkling passage in a Mozart Sonata. In doing these things, in "moodling" along in a carefree way, the imagination begins to bubble and boil in a natural process that Anne LaMotte calls "composting." You can't will yourself to have inspired, creative thoughts. They will come to you, however, if you let your mind wander while your body engages in some other enjoyable activity.

Julia Cameron, creator of The Artist's Way, agrees. "An artist requires the upkeep of creative solitude. An Artist requires the healing of time alone. Without this period of recharging, our artist becomes depleted." Certainly this is the idea behind Cameron's advocacy of the Artist Date, a time you spend alone doing something of your choice to recharge your creative batteries. I have experienced this concept in action many times, as I'm sure most of you have. I can be feeling completely overwhelmed by work or family resposibilities, my creative juices completely dried up, and I sink into a hot bath, light my favorite candles, put on some Chopin or Debussy, and slowly relax into the warmth and serenity. Suddenly, the perfect first line of a poem pops into my head, or I remember an incident from my childhood that could be the basis for a fascinating and funny story, or the music reminds me of a night spent with my first love that just begs to be written about. Would my imagination have been ignited so handily if I had been at my computer, hands poised on the keys, waiting for inspiration to strike? Probably not.

I've discovered too, that if my creativity is engaged in one outlet, it seems almost transferable to my writing. Spending time at the piano is one of the ways I get inspired to write~not necessarily at the exact moment I'm playing, but later on, when the music has had time to sift through my soul, blossoming in my mind and spirit. Playing music requires use of different parts or your brain than writing does, and it involves a completely different mind-body connection, one that seems to invite creative thought to flourish.

But I'm not good at making time for moodling. My "to do" list is always so long, that I feel terribly guilty if I take time out for anything that isn't seemingly productive toward accomplishing the long list of tasks I've set for myself. Even with this validation from Ueland, Cameron, and LaMotte, I'll find it hard to set aside my Puritan work ethic long enough to moodle my way toward recharging my imagination. But, for days now, I've been craving a good, long walk, just aching to feel my feet pounding the pavement, to set my legs striding briskly down the "big hill" at the park, or even (darn this winter weather!) clock off a few rounds at the local mall. Could this urge be more than my sedentary body nudging me to get moving? Perhaps it's my creative consciousness, desperately in need of an opportunity to ferment some marvelous new ideas? Hmmm, perhaps I'd better lace up my Reeboks and moodle along, give my imagination some time to spread to its wings.

How about you...what are your favorite ways to moodle?