Body of Experience

I love both Theodore Roethke and Robert Frost. I love to read the poetry of both, interviews with both, and about the lives of both. Today, I learned that both men were walkers, physical walkers. It makes sense, really; their works reveal a quiet, observant connection to their surroundings. It makes sense that to achieve that connection, to slow down and notice...both men walked. Poetry is comprised of "feet" for a reason, I suppose. How could we read Robert Frost without realizing that walking was important to him? When the two roads diverged in the woods, he was there...walking.

Initiation: Head out the door and walk for twenty minutes. Notice your surroundings. Notice your mood. Notice any shifts in your mood. Above all, notice any answers, insights, stratagems, or inspirations that come to you. Back home, head directly to the page. Record your experience and your findings.

I'm not sure that Cameron (much less Frost) would approve of my deviation, but rather than walk for my initiation, I jogged. It is part of a new morning routine for me. I meet with a running club in the mornings (before the crack of dawn even). They run. I jog...well actually, I trot along at a walking pace (but with a bounce). Now usually, this is not a meditative time for me. It is a painful three miles that I strive to simply push through. Not exactly a time for a Robert Frost moment. But this morning...tragedy struck...my phone battery died and the music stopped. That's right. There was no music thumping in my ear buds to entertain/distract me for the last 20-25 minutes of my run. Thus, the completion of this initiation.

I find it interesting that most of my ponderings for the rest of the run were spiritual. I am striving to be stronger in my faith, but I am not an overly spiritual person. Perhaps it was because "Behold" (one of my favorite religious songs) played shortly before the music stopped. Perhaps it was because it was still dark out and the streets were deserted and peaceful. For whatever reason, my mind wandered to my faith and even to the faith of Ryan. I thought. I prayed. I sang (in my head only...due to heavy breathing) the songs I associate with ACTS. It made the run more tolerable...less painful.

I concentrated more on the rhythm of my cadence and of my breathing. And I came to comfortable with being with myself in the silence. I thought about yesterday’s mass, although I don’t remember why. I thought about the ACTS retreats I attended, specifically the first one when I was a participant. I remembered the Coming Down the Mountain book that I read after and suddenly wanted to read it again.

I would have thought that my mind would have been more focused, thinking mainly of goals and fitness and health, but apparently not. It seems that when left alone with my thoughts and my own rhythm, my mind wanders where God wants it…on thoughts of him.

Specificity...Take Two

I did not realize there was a second part to the previous initiation, so here we go.

Step Two: List and describe ten personal objects that have for you, personal emotional weight. Describe especially both the object and the reasons for its emotional relevance.

1.      Ryan's Coveralls Baby Picture – That picture reminds me of so much. It was taken when Ryan and I still lived in Huntsville, when I was struggling to get by. When I was learning to take care of myself and Ryan and trying to make it from one paycheck to the next. His smile symbolizes that I didn’t do so bad. He’s wearing a Whirlwind hat that my dad had made for him. He was Papaw’s boy even back then.

2.      Mema’s Virgin Mary Statue – It reminds me of the special time Ryan and I spent with her. As difficult as it was, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. We are both better people for having cared for her, even if I didn’t do a very good job of it.

3.      Mom’s Strawberry Dishes – They remind me of the barn house. I loved that house, especially the kitchen. I hope that this house inspires those kinds of happy memories in Ryan, memories that last a lifetime.

4.      My Tennis Shoes – They are nothing fancy but when I put them on I feel empowered. They remind me that I really have come a long way.

5.      My Prayer Jar – It reminds me of the ACTS retreat and everything about that memory is special.

6.      Grandma Piper’s Ash Tray – It’s white with green specks, and I suppose an ash tray is a strange thing to connect to emotionally, but it reminds me of her apartment…and thus of her.

7.      My Willow Tree Reading Angel – I love all Willow Tree figurines, but I think this one is especially beautiful. One, because I love her wings, and two, because I think she looks like she is hugging the book with such passion. It represents my passion for language and books and words, and it represents a big part of who I am.

8.      My Graduation Gown – It is a symbol of what I’ve worked so hard for and am still working to achieve, and it represents the importance of education to me.

9.      My Wonder Woman Watch – Mostly because Big Ryan gave it to me. It reminds me that I do make a difference and that my students are affected by the things I do and say. That is an awe inspiring feeling. It makes you proud and self conscious and humble all at the same time.

10.  My Moment to Pause Bracelet – One, it does just that…reminds me to pause and be thankful and reflect. Two, because it is a connection that all the Piper girls share. I love that.

Specificity

Initiation: List and describe ten items inyour immediate environment What are your associations with them, however nonsensical.

1. A white flower pot with no flower: The strange stick (which I guess used to have a balloon on it) has a frog clipped to it. It looks like something Piper would put in her hair. The clip reminds me of the frogs singing in a children's movie, but I can't think of which one. I can picture them, but I can't recall the movie.

2. My red purse with the bling cross: My friend Jessica told me that as I got smaller, this purse continued to get bigger. It really is huge...and heavy. I bought it months before my surgery (so it's been almost two years), but I wouldn't let myself carry it until I lost twenty pounds. It was my first reward. I said I was going to reward myself every 20 pounds, but I didn't keep up with it. I owe myself many goodies. I guess this next surgery will serve as my catch-up reward.

3. My M cup that I love, love, love: I don't know what it is about these cups, but Barbara and I would fight for them.

4. A basket, just a plain wicker basket: It reminds me of Ryan's Easter basket (also plain wicker) with the red stripe around it. I love that basket.

5. The computer I'm typing this on: I spend a lot of time on this computer when I'm in the learning lab (wishing a student would come in for help). We're long old friends.

6. A telephone: I hate talking on the phone. How can I possibly be my mother's daughter?

7. My teacher bag: It's a huge, 31 bag that my friend Mary Lynn gave me. It's brown, and I love the design, and it holds a million pounds (as every good teacher bag must). I have a bag that has more of a dressed up briefcase look. I've thought about switching to that this year. You know, going all admin., but I'm not sure. I guess it will depend on how much stuff I'm lugging around. Do people carry tons of books and papers and junk in and out of admin. like we do on campus?

8. Ender's Game: This is Ryan's summer reading for dual credit, and I am reading it as part of a YA book study that I am also completing online. So far I like it. Wish I had read it before reading The Hunger Games trilogy though. It has the same feel, and I would have liked to compare in the reversed order.

9. A grammar cartoon: Oh how I LOVE grammar and all things grammar related! No, really...I do!

10. My watch: Does it count if I'm wearing the object? I say yes. It's my Wonder Woman watch that a fabulous student gave me many years ago. He's going to run this country some day. This watch makes me smile because he's one of those that make you proud to have been his teacher.

"Connecting to our environment consciously and concretely allows us to connect with greater specificity and emotional resonance to our own inner life. This makes for writing of a rich timbre."

Valuing Our Experience

Initiation: List fifty things you are proud of, from the small to the large. Then review the list. What does it teach you about what you value?

Step One: In no particular order.

1.       My master’s degree

2.       Ryan’s work ethic

3.       Having lost 175 pounds

4.       Being able to jog 3 miles

5.       Financial independence

6.       My relationship with my family

7.       My banana pudding

8.       My sense of humor

9.       My home

10.   My exercise room

11.   My Ed.D. progress

12.   My faith

13.   My mother’s volunteerism

14.   My role as an educator

15.   Being an American

16.   Being a Texan

17.   My organizational skills

18.   My new arm muscle (yup, it’s visible!)

19.   The Insanity crew

20.   Showing up for Hell on Heels

21.   Ryan’s athleticism

22.   Ryan’s creativity

23.   My father’s gentle kindness

24.   My brother’s big gestures

25.   My MHS letter jacket

26.   My Region IV gold star

27.   My Mountain Writers grant

28.   My GPA

29.   Being able to borrow clothes from my gorgeous sister-in-law

30.   My ability to pull a camper

31.   My improved cooking skills (still bad, but improved)

32.   My relationships with past students

33.   Ryan taking college classes

34.   Having read War and Peace

35.   My changed views on food

36.   My love of reading

37.   Ryan (in general)

38.   Ryan’s financial sense

39.   Getting out of debt (even though I bought a house and went back in)

40.   My people skills

41.   My ability to work well under pressure

42.   My ability to multi-task

43.   My willingness to tell it like it is

44. Having a waist

45.   Wearing clothes without X's in the size

46.   Ryan

47.   Ryan

48.   Ryan

49.   Ryan

50.   Ryan

Step Two: Well, I ran out of things to list, but I figured Ryan could have been all fifty. So why not end my list in a way that reflects that?

I think my list shows that there are four major areas of my life that I value: family, school, work, and fitness.

Drama

“Every day is made from myriad moments.”

 *I apologize in advance for the length of this one...just following directions.

Initiation: Number from one to a hundred. Now list one hundred things you, personally, love.

In no particular order AT ALL:

1.       My red rosary

2.       Blue Bell banana pudding ice cream

3.       Franz Schubert’s “Ave Maria”

4.       Josh Turner’s voice

5.       Hugs from Ryan

6.       Catholic mass

7.       Cold beer (the colder, the better)

8.       The Chaplet of Divine Mercy when sung by the Marian Helpers

9.       Post-run stretch

10.   My bike

11.   Cheese puffs

12.   Chocolate

13.   Cold pizza with ranch dressing

14.   Cowboy boots

15.   Tall boots with high heels

16.   Art by Kelli Rae Roberts

17.   Grey’s Anatomy

18.   A new journal

19.   Red

20.   Lipstick

21.   A Tale of Two Cities (and the memory it evokes)

22.   Poisonwood Bible

23.   Flip Flops

24.   Sunshine

25.   Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups

26.   Old Readers’ Digest books

27.   My Kindle

28.   Pedicures

29.   Scalp massages

30.   Johnny Depp’s eyes (and really all the rest of him too)

31.   The smell of baby powder

32.   The smell of baked apple pie

33.   My mother’s meatloaf

34.   Queso (and pretty much anything with queso on it)

35.   Jurassic Park (both the book and the movie)

36.   Stephen King’s…too many to list

37.   Cool (not cold) nights at the baseball park

38.   Sunny days at the baseball park

39.   The Beach (any beach)

40.   A comfy tube on a flowing river

41.   Campfires

42.   My back patio

43.   Lemon cake

44.   X-Men movies

45.   Old family photos

46.   Facebook

47.   Pinterest

48.   My job

49.   My “Meaning to Pause” bracelet

50.   Kick boxing

51.   Laughter

52.   Timothy Shmaltz’s “A Quiet Moment”

53.   Writing that feels complete

54.   Chick flicks

55.   Crosses

56.   Jeans that fit in the waist and the butt at the same time

57.   Ryan’s smile

58.   The words “Go Big D” when yelled by my dad

59.   Holding hands

60.   My Medjugorje statue

61.   Cilantro

62.   My brother’s sense of humor

63.   My sister’s free spirit and sense of style

64.   Good advice from “other” Christi

65.   Dive bars

66.   Girls' nights out

67.   My crock pot

68.   Prince

69.   Grease

70.   My i-phone

71.   Quiet time

72.   Piper’s laugh

73.   Stella’s ideas

74.   Just the right song during a run

75.   Roses

76.   Fresh Pineapple

77.   Long skirts

78.   To do lists (especially with things checked off)

79.   Hot showers

80.   My closets

81.   My kitchen island

82.   Orchids

83.   Dirty martinis

84.   Sleeping babies

85.   Dr. Seuss books

86.   Puzzles

87.   Teenagers

88.   Epiphanies

89.   My recliner

90.   Christmas trees

91.   Candy corn

92.   Good parties

93.   Family dinners

94.   Wimberley weekend

95.   Danbury

96.   Hoka Hey

97.   Reality television shows

98.   Memoirs

99.   Real cards sent through the real mail

100. TEXAS!

Mood

Initiation: Identify a situation in your life about which you have a recognizable mood or emotion. "Enter" a mood or emotion and write for ten mintues. At the end of the ten minutes, stop. Take five more minutes and write about the shifts in your mood that the act of writing caused. Be an observer.

Step One: I am proud of my son's work ethic. This summer Ryan has taken a job working for Jacco in the rice fields. It's hard work, and he works long hours. Now this, in itself, is not a big deal. He is sixteen years old, about to be a junior in high school, and he should certainly have a summer job. That is an expected minimum, not something to provoke motherly pride. However, in this case, there is more to it that evokes the emotion of pride.

Ryan has been doing odd jobs for family members, friends, community organizations, and individuals who get his name via word of mouth for years. He has always been a hard worker, and even more importantly, a saver. He loves to take his pay and tuck it away in the bank. That's right. It's never been blown on skateboards, junk food, video games, or any of the other things I think of when I think of teens blowing money. It usually go straight in his bank account, an account he opened when he was ten years old as what was called a Mulah Mulah account and recently converted to a full blown savings account.

When he turned fifteen he got a job in Filipp's (mmm mmmm good local restaurant) and worked there until the next baseball season rolled around. By the way, I didn't even know this was legal, but apparently in Texas you can work at 15 with parent permission and only a certain number of hours. Soooo...he asked me to write him a note giving him permission to work and he set about becoming gainfully employed.

He wasn't able to continue working at the restaurant this summer because of scheduling conflicts with his summer baseball league, so he found a different job, the rice fields. He works from 7-12 in the morning, Monday-Saturday. Monday through Friday he gets a two hour lunch break (no afternoon shift on Saturday) durng which he eats a huge meal, takes a nap, and then returns for 2-7 shift. That's a ten hour day in case you haven't done the math. That's a long day.
While this is going on, he's playing summer baseball, reading his books for the dual credit English class he is registered for and helping out around the house (he does a great job with the yard with no complaint and for the most part without me asking...albeit that is in exchange for being on my cell phone plan).

Anywho...time is up, but I could just go on and on. He's a good kid, and I'm proud what can I say. Don't get me wrong, he's NOOOOOO angel, as any of his teachers can tell you, but he makes me proud, and today that is my mood.

Step Two: Writing this intensified my mood. It made me even prouder to write about it, like I was just hoping someone would read it. I wonder though, what would have happened if I were in an angry mood? Depressed perhaps. Would the writing process have intensified that mood or helped me work through and alleviate it? I'm betting on the latter. I also thought about the emotion of confusion. Would this process have helped me "metabolize" that confusion as with the other initiation? Interesting process. As for now...still proud!

*This post was actually written yesterday, July 16th, but I was unable to post.

This Writing Life

“Writing is the art of a listening heart.” I love that line, and I love the idea of this whole chapter: the idea that writing is how we metabolize life. It is how we work through things, or at least it can be if we let it. Cameron shifts from the food analogy to that of screenplays, but the two ideas really meld together well. “If writing is observing the movie in our minds, it is also editing it, adding sound track, putting on a voice-over.” It’s the whole idea that writing allows us to step back and look at life differently. It allows (almost forces) us to stop, process, and put into words how we want to view a situation. And once we put it in words, especially written words, it often takes on a feel of permanence that makes us ponder those words long and hard.

Initiation: Describe a situation in your life that you are currently trying to metabolize.

It has been one year, seven months, and twenty four days since a surgeon put me to sleep and changed my life. I had lap band surgery on November 18, 2010. It was a decision I had not come by lightly (mostly because of the financial burden), but it is one that I have never regretted. Since that day I have lost 175 pounds. I have changed the ways I think about, shop for, and prepare the food I eat. I run on a regular basis, and although I’m slow I can make it over three miles without walking. I enjoy riding a mountain bike given to me by my brother, and I recently starting working out boot camp style with a group of young ladies who meet at my home in the evenings. I look and feel like a whole new woman, but…

With the loss of 175 pounds comes a whole new issue that I did not anticipate…skin…lots and lots of skin. It’s gross and it’s everywhere. Now, I won’t go into any details as to not scare you off, but you have to be aware of the problem to understand the decision that I am currently writing about (metabolizing per se). I have decided to visit a plastic surgeon to see about having some of the extra removed and some of the other put back where it belongs (we’ll just leave it at that).

The decision is a difficult one because, like the first surgery, it will be expensive. Can I justify spending that money (that could, for example, be socked away for Ryan’s future tuition) to make myself feel better when I look in the mirror? Well, let’s see…let the metabolizing begin.

On the one hand, it is expensive. I’ve worked really hard to get out of debt, and this would be something I would pay for, at least partially, on credit. It seems irresponsible. I also keep thinking about the fact that I am the one who made the decisions that landed me in the situation that created this problem. Shouldn’t I just have to live with the consequences now? Of course, I struggled with that before the first surgery as well.

Now, don’t get me wrong. We won’t be living on peanut butter and Ramen, and Ryan won’t be unable to go to college because of this decision. I have worked out a plan to pay for it responsibly (well, as responsibly as you can say you're being when doing something you can’t afford to pay cash for). And then there’s the whole “you deserve” this idea. That is what friends and family keep telling me. “You’ve worked hard and earned this.” And they’re right. I have worked hard, but again, I’ve had to work hard because of decisions I made in the past…my decisions.

I guess the biggest factor that tipped my decision is purely, oh what is the word I’m looking for? Materialistic? Shallow? Vain? None of those seem right, but it really is based on the way I look and the way I feel about the way I look. It’s about working up a sweat and building muscle and feeling empowered and strong and confident and then peeling off those sweat soaked clothes to see that you have the body of a 90 year old woman. Confidence gone. Empowerment zapped. There’s no coming back from that. So, maybe I don’t deserve it. Maybe I should have to deal with the consequences of past decisions. Maybe it is a selfish decision, but it is one I feel strongly about. It is something I’m willing to sacrifice for financially, and it is one that I think will make me a stronger, happier woman. Doesn’t that benefit me and those I love? I think so.

Hmmm…Cameron may be on to something here. Metabolizing success!

Bad Writing

“Perfectionism is a primary writer’s block. We want to write – we just want to do it perfectly.”

Initiation: Writing as fast as you can, write a make-believe tabloid story. Make up characters, incidents, and quotes. 

This morning, in the small town of Danbury, Texas, one teenage boy’s life was changed forever. Ryan Piper had no idea when he set out for work in the rice fields that by noon he would never have to work again. Piper, age 16, was walking his usual lane when he discovered a crack in the ground that had not been there two days prior. While this might not have been surprising in past Texas summers, with recent rains Piper found this odd and was intrigued. “I just wanted to see what might have caused the shift in the ground, so I followed the crack. It took me over three lanes and then ended at what looked like a sink hole.”

The sink hole, which geologists have confirmed is over 40 feet deep, leads to a natural cavern estimated to be roughly the size of a football field. None of that is apparent to the naked eye, however. Instead, what caught Piper’s eye upon inspecting the sink hole was a hole in the wall with something sitting on the shelf produced from the indention. “I thought it was a barrel turned on its side. I know that doesn’t make any sense. What would a barrel be doing down there? But that’s what it looked like, a barrel covered in dirt.”

Workers used farm equipment to retrieve the object which turned out to be a large wooden chest closed with a cast iron lock. Piper and other workers were able to work the lock from the chest and soon discovered that beneath the rice that some in this community view as valuable, a treasure of unfathomable proportion had been buried. The chest contained gold coins, goblets, and jewels as well as diamonds and other precious gems. “I had never seen anything like it. It was dirty, but you could still tell what it was.”

While verification of the treasure’s origin will take time, preliminary speculations suggest that Piper has uncovered the lost treasure of William “Captain” Kidd who was hanged in 1701 for allegations of piracy. How the treasure ended up buried in Danbury, Texas is another tale, but however it got there, Ryan Piper is glad it did.

Time’s Up!

Although I’m sure the article goes on to explain how Piper intends to buy him mother a beautiful mansion on an exotic beach and provide her with a housekeeper, a cook, and a personal chef…and maybe a Maserati or two.   

Track

“I believe that what we want to write wants to be written.”

What a beautiful sentiment. It affirms my belief that we are called to write and my professor’s belief that it is an act of remembrance. We write (or at least we should) to say, “I am here,” or better yet, just, “I am.” If we think of writing this way, as something that wants to exist, then we should (and I emphasize the word should here) be able to stop judging the act itself. Stop riding the emotional roller coaster that makes us judge some writing as bad and just let the writing be because it wants to be.

Cameron calls this “laying track.” When we set judgment aside, save the polishing for another time, and just embrace the roughness of a rough draft, we are laying track.

Initiation: Take fifteen minutes and write as fast as you can about the kinds of writing it would be fun to do.

It would be fun to write children’s books, to be silly and maybe even rhyme, to play with pattern and sound and to work with an illustrator to make the tale silly and fun. At the same time, I think it would be fun to write nonfiction children’s picture books. OK, maybe not fun. It would be really difficult, but what an interesting endeavor: to take accurate, factual information and turn it into an entertaining story that would delight children and that can be brought to life through both words and illustrations. These are not my aspirations, though they do sound fun. I don’t want to write for children.

I want to write for adults. I’ve always wanted to write the story of a friend of mine’s family. I’ll call her J for now. To say her family’s story is interesting would be an extreme understatement, and I’ve wanted to write it for several years now. I want to make it a work of fiction with my own twists and turns but base it on the things she has told me nonetheless. Since starting this book study/writing group, I have written a teeny tiny part of the tale. It wasn’t fun. It was hard. I guess that’s because I’m not doing as Cameron advises and laying track. I’m still judging as I go. I think it would be fun to write the story, but then when I sit down to actually do it, I beat myself up over the structure of every sentence and the choice of every word. No fun!

I also want to write stories about Mema, lots and lots of stories about Mema. I want to write about Ryan teaching her to hula hoop and about her calling me Martha and firing me if she didn’t like what I cooked for dinner. I want to write about the night she rattled off every single grandchild’s name, every single one of them except me, and insisted that I was not really part of her family. I want to write about what that felt like and what I learned from it. I want to write about emptying the kitchen cabinets (and singing as we did it) and her teaching me to make homemade dough as we systematically covered her kitchen in flour and created something sadly inedible. I want to write them, these and so many more.  Would that be fun or gut wrenching? Probably both. I laugh when I tell the stories (sometimes tear up too, but always laugh), but putting them in print is different. I think it would be good to share them. I know that the people who need them are the people who would appreciate them, and I suppose that kind of giving is fun.

So there you have it…tracks.