Guiding Light (Write On Wednesday)

Way back when I was a kid, my friends and I spent most of our summer days outdoors.  From dawn until dusk, we'd ride bikes, swing on the swingsets,  draw on the sidewalk with chalk, bang tennis balls against the side of the house - anything and everything our imaginations would allow. Though we all came from different size families and backgrounds, there was one universal rule we each had to follow.

When the streetlights came on, you went home. 

No ifs, ands, or buts. 

Along about dusk, most of us started keeping one eye peeled toward the lamppost on the corner.  "It's not on yet!" someone would yell.  'Let's play one more game!  Hurry up!  We don't have long!"

The excitement intensified as the sky darkened - we knew time was short, and we were desperate to make the most of it.  So when the dim bulb in the street lamp magically popped aglow, a chorus of "See ya!"  and "Bye!" was heard round the cul-de-sac, as dozens of kids separated themselves from their friends and their games and headed home to bed.

The street light sort of ordered our days back then, provided us with a guide, a way to end our day independent of our parents, a signal by which we steered our way home.  Sometimes, I was guiltily glad to see the light come on.  Truthfully, by the end of the day I was often tired of noise and confusion, weary of the loud voices of my friends and their tiresome demands.  I was ready to head for home, a warm bath, the comfort of my books and my dog.  But I was afraid of being called a loser or a wimp if I went inside before dark, if I gave up on the games before my friends wanted to call it a night.  So I stuck it out, gazing longingly at the street light all the while.

Lightposts are good.  We need them.   Sometimes now when I get weary of life and wonder what it's all for anyway, I think about the people who need me most- my husband, my mother, my dogs - and I'm inspired to pull myself up and soldier on.  When I get frustrated with my job and all its petty requirements, I can sit down at the piano and play, feeling the satisfaction that comes from doing something I love.  When I get lonely and feel misunderstood, I can have a glass of wine with a friend and share my sadness, let her pull me back to earth.

There are guiding lights everywhere in our lives.  Like that corner lamppost long ago, I try to keep my eyes on mine at all times.

How about you?  Are there guiding lights in your life? 

for: Write On Wednesday

Guiding Light

...So when at times the mob is swayed

To carry praise or blame too far

We may choose something like a star

To stay our minds on and be staid.

 Choose Something Like A Star,  a poem by Robert Frost

 

In the Liturgical Year, this is the season of Epiphany, the time which celebrates the three wise men who followed the star which led them out of darkness and into the light of a new life promised by the birth of Christ. 

 We all need a guiding light in our lives, whether it's a belief in a higher power, the inspiration of a parent, lover, or friend, or simply our own principles and convictions. 

What's your

Guiding Light? 

Fresh Start (for Write on Wednesday)

So, I'm back.  Home from my lovely, idyllic time in Florida, languishing around in the sunshine, taking long walks, reading, lolling about in my comfy clothes..

Ah, how sweet it is it was.

But now back to reality, to cold midwestern mornings and chores and work and responsibility.

Deep breath.

It's the New Year, and though I don't make resolutions, I do like to make Fresh Starts.  There is a difference, you know.  Fresh Starts are much more forgiving and flexible than resolutions.  Fresh Starts allow you to forget the past and start over right from where you are this minute.  Fresh Starts can happen every day of the week if you want them to.

Here are some of the things I'm Starting Fresh this 2010:

  • Slowing down the pace of my life.  I try to do this all the time, and somehow always fail miserably.  This time, I'm thinking more about my attitude than my actual physical life and activity.  Allowing myself the freedom to let things go, to stop and take a cleansing breath now and again;
  • Focusing.  My life feels really scattered an unfocused sometimes, which I think contributes to my sense of being in a huge hurry.  I've identified several reasons for this, one of which I plan to write about in more depth later on, because I think it's something all of us are dealing with.   I need to plan my activity, organize my priorities, and stick to one task until it's finished;
  • Doing what I love.  Certainly spending more time with my family and friends is at the top of this list.   Avocationally, music and writing.  Vocationally, making sure I'm using my strengths at work effectively.

So, off I go, into a new year, a new decade, with all its new beginnings. 

 How about you?  Do you have a Fresh Start in mind? 

Write on Wednesday is making a Fresh Start...check it out.

 

 

Fresh Start

Best thing about a New Year?  The feeling of starting over, being offered a clean slate to begin new projects, or even to revisit past projects and give them a new twist.

So let's Write on Wednesday once again.  But with a bit of a twist this time 'round.

Come here each Wednesday for a new writing prompt, some words or ideas to get your writing muscles working and over that mid-week hump. 

The idea is to write something ~ prose, poem, fiction, essays, lists, anything wordy that strikes your fancy ~ post it on your blog, and leave a comment here with a link to your post.  That way others can come visit you and say hello.

If you don't blog, perhaps you'd rather write in your journal, or even on a paper napkin in Starbucks. 

The idea is, of course, just to Write.  Hopefully everyday.  But especially on Wednesday.

Today, the words of course are:

Fresh Start

 

New Year

I love new things - shiny, bright, never before used things.  I love new books, that crackle when you peel back the cover and release their pungent aroma of fresh ink.  I love new cars, with sparkly paint and crystal clean whindshields.  I love new furniture all regal, smooth, and firm.  So you would think that I would love new years, with their 365 empty days waiting expectantly to be filled with activity and emotion - work, play, love, life, happiness, sadness.  And I do love the idea of a new year, with all the hope and promise implicit in the words.   But I'm also just a titch anxious every new year's too, because despite all the planning and resolving we do in the days leading up to this fresh start so nicely provided by our calendars, there's that rather scary element of unknowing that comes along with it.  

My anxiety level is a bit higher than normal this year condsidering all the unexpected things that happened during 2009.   But each morning we awake never knowing what the day will bring, and I'm determined not to allow last year's series of disasters to color my thinking about the new year in front of me, or, for that matter, about life in general and my own in particular.  Though the events of 2009 - my aunt and uncle's death, my husband's job loss - have inevitably altered my life, those changes have not been totally devastating or entirely negative.  Like  Janus, the Roman god for whom this month is named, I'm now able to look back and forward at the same time, having not only survived, but having learned a thing or two in the process.

One of my Facebook friends posted a question in her status update yesterday.  "What would it take for you to live simply and contentedly in 2010?" she queried.   I found it interesting that she chose simplicity and contentment as her goals for the year, and, in asking that question, assumed others would find them to be worthy desires of their own hearts.  For a long time, I've felt a yearning for simplicity, which for me would mean less busyness in my life.  Realistically, looking at the things that cause me to feel rushed and overburdened, I admit that many of them are of my own choosing...music and traveling and dogs and writing and blogging...but these are the things that mean putting stars and hearts on my calendar pages, and I'm not inclined to sacrifice them for the black squiggles  which crowd the majority of my days.

One of the things I've learned during the course of these past months is that true contentment comes from the most simple things.  Sitting on the porch with my husband and the dogs, watching the sun set behind the evergreen trees.  Walking around the lakes here on a perfect sunny morning while the egrets tiptoe along the shoreline beside me. Reading a good book with a cup of hot, fresh coffee at hand. Sitting around the dinner table with my family, sharing food, ideas, and memories.

So if I were to set a goal for this shiny new year, it would be to fill my blank calendar pages with more of those moments, and to savor them when they occur.  Those are the moments that shore us up despite the inevitable hurts and disappointments, that heal our hearts when sorrow steals in.   The moments that fend off the fear and anxiety of the unknown, and give us the strength to move forward with grace and hope.

How about you?  What would it take for you to live simply and contentedly in 2010?