Get to the Meat of It Already

Unless I am mistaken and the visits recorded on my tracker for my little blog are completely inaccurate, I am thankfully not the only one reading here -- which would make it one very lonely and even crazier place than inside my head where all these widely random thoughts are conceived.

So, if you are reading, and I am convinced you are. I wonder if this question ever crosses your mind? "When is the drivel going to stop so we can get to some real substantive writing here?" You may not word it quite like that in your head. You may never use "drivel" in your every day thoughts. But since I have brought it up, let's give it a quick definition. Here is what I found at dictionary.com:

Drivel: noun

1.

saliva flowing from the mouth, or mucus from the nose; slaver.

2.

childish, silly, or meaningless talk or thinking; nonsense; twaddle.



Obviously I am not referring to definition one in this instance, though I could totally see why someone might want that to stop if it was going on here at my blog. 

Maybe I am being a bit harsh in my self-assessment when defining my writing as "childish" or "twaddle", for goodness' sakes. Maybe just fluffy would suffice, but now I do know what I can label "drivel" when I see it. 

Anyway, I have been thinking a great deal since I re-launched an active blog here a few weeks back. What makes me stand out? What do I have to offer of value? What am I passionate about? 

More than anything else, I know I am meant to weave words together. It comes effortlessly. It is a passion, and yet it is more a lifeline than anything else. It frees me and unclutters my mind when I let the words spill out on the page. I have ideas to share that are uniquely my own, as well as those that have been shaped and influenced by my background, my relationship with The Lord, my reading of His Word, or by the people who have crossed my path over the past almost five decades I have spent on this earth. 

Beauty is the thread that connects it all. I am unable to walk through one single day I have been given without seeing the inherent beauty in it, simply by the very nature of my Heavenly Father designing it and allowing it and its events to occur for my consumption. 

He did not make the sun rise and set only for my benefit. I am not that self-centered most days. And yet He is pleased when I take time to notice the rhythm of these and how they influence my perspective on my existence here on this planet. 

The coming days will see me pondering more of how beauty is found in the mundane, how I can leave a trail of beauty apart from fleeting feelings, physical limitations, financial constraints and creative blocks. Beauty will always rise to the top, as it is the foundation upon which I have chosen to build this bloggy home of mine. 

I hope I haven't scared you off in my feeble attempt to write with a bit more substance than cotton candy and leave a bit of that fluff behind momentarily. Fluff will definitely make recurring appearances here, as it certainly has a place amongst the meatier topics. I just know from experience a steady diet of fluff can leave one lacking and longing for something more. 

Heading off to do more research on what makes each day a beauty on its own. Check over here for more great writing as well.

On His Adventure~

Pam

Can't Help But Smile

Do y'all have certain things in your life that make you smile regardless of how down in the depths of despair you may find yourself?

What is your "go to" when nothing else can coax a grin?

I have a couple. Pictured at left is one of my top five. I bought these red boots for myself as a late birthday present when I turned 40. From the moment I first saw them on the website, I knew they had to be mine.

From the moment they arrived at my house in Rome, GA, they have brought a smile. No, they cause a full-out toothy grin that emits 1000 watts of illumination just about every time I see them. I. love. these. boots!

They're a little scuffed now, and they have survived a number of moves since they first joined me all those years ago,  but they still bring me great joy. I can't help but smile when I see them. My sassiness factor escalates at least 10 points when I wear them. I almost skip. Well, I do skip! You would too if you could find them. Because I can't, I also have my eyes on these. I think they may need to be my second pair someday.

Another certain smile starter joined my list several years back. I don't even have to see it to have the grin start to steal away at the corners of my mouth. I can picture the photo in my memory and have a chuckle almost immediately escape my mouth. Let me be in the presence of said photo taken at the Georgia Aquarium, and my chuckle erupts into a literally rolling on the floor laughing episode. I'd share the photo here, but the faces of the innocent must be protected.

After several rough days emotionally and physically, I have needed these tangible reminders of better times. I have needed some confirmed giggles -- those things you can always count on to dispel the gloom. Just when I find myself convinced I can't get out of bed, I find one of these day brighteners just the boost of hope I needed at the perfect time.

Maybe you can relate. Maybe you have those days too. I'd encourage you to find some rock solid joy bringers that put you in a place where you "can't help but smile."

Have a great rest of your weekend!

On His Adventure~
Pam

Beauty Beyond Being Alone

I've mentioned I am a writer. I am also an editor and proof reader by trade. Putting my journalism degree to good use has ebbed and flowed throughout the past 20 or so years as I've woven stretches of other jobs in its midst.

I freelance occasionally in the editing/publishing world and have gotten the chance to transition home to work and be better for my family. Just when I think we won't make it and figure I must be mighty creative with the last can of beans on the pantry shelf, I find a project needing to be edited. God has been faithful when I am faithless, and He routinely makes beauty out of the messes I make on my own.

Working from home has had its pluses and minuses. At different times in having the privilege of doing freelance work from my house, I have gotten very used to being inside these four walls. They can become a cocoon of sorts, but even the butterfly must eventually brave the world outside the cocoon in order to fulfill the purpose for which it was created.

The pluses to this kind of job are many. I can work in my pajamas. I can start my day pretty much whenever I want. I can take breaks or take no breaks if I choose. I have no time clock, no one looking over my shoulder, few parameters to confine me, and I get paid to point out and correct other people's mistakes.

I love my job. I still need more work to make it financially lucrative over the long haul, but I do thoroughly love what I do, and I am good at it.

The down side to doing work from the house comes when I've not left the confines of this building for days on end and find it difficult to wear anything but pajamas. Add to that the fact of homeschooling my teenagers who need to interact with someone besides their middle-aged mother, and it is a must for me to push myself out the door and into the big world outside my bedroom.

The very nature of my line of work draws the introvert, the loner, the one who flees a crowd rather than the one drawn into the middle of it all. I am all of the above. I would much rather chat with someone via instant message or text than do the tough work of mingling in person. One energizes me and brings me comfort. The other drains me, leaves me weary, and at times longing for the solitude of my bed.

Yet, though it is a struggle at times for me to push out of the safety of the home cocoon,  I press on and find God meets me in my hermit tendencies. He gives me strength. He has people cross my path that make the venturing out worth the effort. He weaves beauty into all I see outside my well-crafted and self-imposed prison of sorts.

God takes the mundane and ordinary, turning it into an adventure as I laugh with my children and enjoy the fall weather. Peeking my head out of my virtual turtle shell was a success today. I might get brave and try it again tomorrow!

If anyone else struggles with the idea of home becoming too much of a haven, let me know what your strategies are to fight the hermit in your head. I'd welcome suggestions. I don't want to miss a thing God has for me out there in that big world. Go check out some of the other posts in the Write 31 Day challenge.

As always . . .

On His Adventure~

Pam

I Am A Writer

I can't not do it. (Yep, I know it's a double negative.)
I must be writing.  My writing and my art take many forms along the path to being seen by others:

• A funky, doodle-filled shopping list I choose not to follow once I get to the store. (It's a game I play with myself, and my teenaged daughters now chastise me routinely for it. They also hold the list and check items off, making it far more functional . . . a perk, I must say!)
• A list of lovely names I will never use for the children I will not bear in this lifetime. (Maybe this is in anticipation of the fiction I will one day write?!?!)
• A poem about lightning-filled skies.
• A journal entry kept from prying eyes.
• A "To Do" list with zero items crossed off or completed.
• A note on the back of an envelope to remind my daughters to empty the dishwasher, and "Oh how much your mama loves you both!"
• A shorter list of thanks to let everyone know how my God fills me up and keeps me moving forward each week. Sometimes the list is longer. It is never all-encompassing.
• A deeper, heartfelt introspection about how God made me to be a writer in the first place.
  

As I have walked through the thoughts I've had tumbling around in my head with my Darling Prince, I told him how good it felt to be writing like "me" again. He smiled and told me it was like being in the "zone" athletes talk about so often in those ESPN interviews where their talents are lauded and accolades are showered liberally.

Finding a sweet spot. In the zone. On my game.

No matter what it is called, I am choosing to call it mine. I am home. I have been searching for my voice, and I am finally finding it. I am finding the meaning in it. Out of its overflow from my heart emerges beauty, peace, and hope for expressions of both the writing and crafty kind for the future. Mind and heart full. Fingers singing over the keys.

I write. I. am. a. writer.

I can't not do it. (There goes that double negative again!) It fills me and spills forth like breath.

I am finally exhaling, and it feels wonderful. Stay tuned for more on that trail of beauty I will be leaving and how you can join me!

On His Adventure~

Pam