I Got New Ears for Christmas

I hope everyone’s holidays were as good as mine this year.  With each passing year, I feel like I have learned to appreciate everything and everyone a little bit more.  There’s been a lot of warm and fuzzy going on.

Aside from the great gifts from my loved ones, one gift I realized I was given was a set of new ears.  Apparently, the old ones were dull and worn through, so the new ones have been hooked up and are receiving in digital surround sound.

When I talk to anyone face to face, movies, shows, commercials, radio programs and any words I hear are affecting me in new ways. Velvety tones wrapping my ears in warmth.  The pitter patter of witty banter on a comedy dance around my head.  Long, winding, heartfelt conversations pour their emotions into the innermost canals. 

I find myself being affected by all the different ways words can shape and shift.  I am listening much more intently than I ever have before.  The way people use words to evoke certain feelings.  For some reason, I feel like I only paid attention when I was listening to music or reading a book.  But, this month, I finally started to think about the spoken word as I heard it.  Processing it like a translator to help me enjoy it more. 

Between communicating with other writers, reading more and my own writing, my eyes AND ears have been opened so wide.  It has even contributed to me growing appreciation of all things around me.  It makes me wonder if I have been walking around with blinders on.  How have I not seen and heard the way I am doing right now?  And does this mean that it’s only going to get better from here? 

Sounds to me like the best Christmas present ever.

Inspiration in an Unlikely Place

With places like Twitter and Facebook, I now know much more about people’s lives that I really never intended.  Feeling as a forced voyeur, I am privy to information like how much sleep one friend had or who’s dog pooped on the rug again.  But then, on a rare occasion, I find a post that leads me down a path of self discovery.  I’ll start at the first step.

I started on a Facebook post.  So, we’ve begun with someone remarking on his uncle in need of a heart.  This uncle happens to be a writer and poet with whom he’s very close.  Of course I read the post because there is a place for others to help.  With charity in mind during a season of giving, I pressed on, which led me to a blog post.

And then…this letter.  This letter intended for someone, a relative and friend of the writer.  This letter intended not for me, maybe not even to ever be seen by anyone else, moved me.  I wrapped my cold hands around my mug of tea and gave full focus to reading it.  I barely get into the meat of the message when something familiar whispers in my ear.

” There will be nights crossing bridges you don’t know the name of when some unspeakable beauty envelopes you.”

I know this.  I’ve felt this.  In a very literal sense. I have actually sat in a car crossing some bridge, somewhere, gazing at the beauty across the horizon and blinked my eyes as if some mental Polaroid was staining that  image and storing it to recall on a day when nothing seemed worth looking at.   

I froze on this for a while, trying to recall some of those striking moments.  Not remembering any, I read on.   The literal sense gives way to the figurative.  All the time I spent worrying about if my writing was any good, or if it was improving at all, seemed ridiculous now.  Maybe just living and writing really is enough.  Whether I’ve spent my day huddled up with my laptop or cleaning the house or playing with my kids, my every move is a lesson, a moment, an experience. 

So, I’ll continue to write, to read and spend my days multi-tasking and overbooking because that’s what I do.  And while I write, I’ll hope I’m evolving in the right direction.  “Improvement” is no longer my concern.

Your Blog Is Killing My Creativity

Aside from the holidays dragging me kicking and screaming from my laptop, I’m having a hard time staying focused on blogging.  Why?  Because your blog is killing my creativity. 

I currently have 83 blogs listed in my favorites.  I’m following another 30-some from my BlogSpot page. 

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO READ ALL OF THESE AND STILL WRITE ON MY OWN?!!?!

So, I’ve devised a plan.  You can all stop being so witty and interesting and I will get on with my life.  Mmmkay?

No? Ok, then listen…I have a Plan B.  I will promise to read your blogs when I can and you can be satisfied with knowing that I love it.  There’s too many of you.  I could probably spend hours reading your posts, clicking all your pages and buttons.  Not to mention, it’s very humbling to read other people’s blogs and find yourself laughing out loud or completely wrapped up in a display of gorgeous photos.  It makes you wonder “what is so special about my blog?”

In a way, I suppose, it’s encouraging me to write differently and learn how to stand out from what I’m reading.  So, you might be helping to make me better…bully for you.  I’m still a little mad at you, though.  My eagerness to read your blog is constantly whispering in my ear, “oh, just go look at that one.  It’ll only be one.” 

And I say, “You lie!  You know you will find more links, more pages, more wonderful little tidbits to read for ‘one more minute’.  Then I’ll be sitting here wondering why there’s still so much laundry and the dishes aren’t done.”

So, stop it.  Stop being clever.  Stop being so awesome.  Just stop it all!

Then I can continue my writing and get on with this as a career.  You do want me to work, don’t you?