Organically Speaking: Writing that Makes a Difference

I think we all wonder and worry about our future. Whether we’ll have enough money for retirement. Whether our kids will grow up to be responsible adults. Whether our relationships will stand the test of time. What our career path holds for us, and what additional hardships we will face along the way.

This year is a watershed year for me, and, like many of my friends I’ve talked to, it seems to be a year for change. Radical change. Something in the world is moving, groaning, crying out for transformation, renewal, and hope. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, I have evolved in so many ways.

One thing I’ve come to realize is that most people spend way too much time regretting the past or worrying about their future. But the only thing you can control is how you respond to the present moment, the here and the now. Life would be so much richer for most of us if we concentrated on being fully in our present. We need to strive to fill each moment of our lives with all of ourselves—to embrace each experience, whether good or bad, to feel each emotion, to drink in each sensation, to appropriate each gift that we are given.

We need to stand in the present moment, grounded in who we are, with our arms open wide to welcome our future. Can you feel your future coming to you? Wait for it. Feel the winds of your destiny coming to meet you. Smell the change in the air. Be patient, and the gift will come to you. Your kindred spirits will draw near. Be in the present. Fill your present, and your joy will shine from within you.

Howdy all,

I’m officing out of my local Starbucks today, as the storms that ripped through Texas and Oklahoma early this morning left me without power. Thankfully, everything is still standing (including the little nearly-dead tree that became a victim of a spring storm the first year I moved into my house), even the few tulips in my garden.

Unpredictable and often violent weather is one of the things I dislike most about living in Texas. God forgot to ask me what my plans were before He opened up the skies and let the heavens bellow. But even if I have to go three days without power (as I did last year during after a big spring storm), this is a gift. I’m lucky I didn’t lose my house, my life, my livelihood.

Every wrench in our plans is a gift. Some are harder to rationalize than others. What they force us to do is let go of our expectations and rouse us out of our complacency. Humans are creatures of habit—we take comfort in the known, even if our lives aren’t exactly what we’d dreamed about, and we didn’t quite achieve the goals we set for ourselves when we were younger.

Storms bring change. Change is scary. But change is good for the soul. Change stretches us, challenges us to be more than what we are. And those who inspire positive change in us are the people we should keep company with. Even if a storm is brewing on the horizon, hang onto the hope that the sun, indeed, will shine again.

Sorry I’ve been away for a while. I’ve recently discovered the über-addictive qualities of FaceBook. I really believe it’s the concept of being able to see, at least on some small scale, how we are connected to so many other people that fascinates us and draws us into the network concept that is FaceBook.

This concept of networking taps into one of the deepest human longings: a desire for community, of belonging. It’s great.

The past week has been one of spiritual and emotional brokenness. For me, it’s been cathartic. The disappointment of the book signing in College Station affected me, perhaps more than it should have. However, I believe there is a time to cry, to feel the emotions, to embrace them and learn from them. Every person has his or her own way of processing the circumstances of their lives.

For me, the emotions can be profound, intense and sometimes overwhelming. But in the end, the result is always learning. The beginning of wisdom, the renewal of dependence upon God to redeem every situation. The affirmation of continued hope in a thing unseen. Of faith, pure and simple and full of clarity and purpose.

The stripping away of every pretense of self-sufficiency; this is spiritual cleansing, healing and growth. Of finding that you are part of a community much larger than you could ever imagine, and how you are connected in so many unique ways to multitudes of souls that feed and encourage you in exactly the way you need.

Isn’t life awesome?

I think I’ve officially qualified as an HMG (High Maintenance Guest). The girl who can’t remember where her car is parked in the hotel self-parking garage, drags the longsuffering bellman in the elevator, out the elevator, up the floor, down the ramp to the floor she was originally on, then can’t find her car keys anywhere, decides to go back to her room to look for the keys. After she gets separated from the bellman on the elevator, she goes to her floor, where she promptly finds the keys in the front pocket of her bag where she put them for easy access and safekeeping.

Can’t find the bellman anywhere because she didn’t listen carefully to where she was supposed to meet him, pounces on a frightened housekeeping girl in a mad tizzy because she’s going to be late for her Sunday brunch at the Hotel Del and doesn’t know who to call, finally finds the bellman at his post in the lobby, where he said he would meet her, and drags him up the elevator and to her car again. Forgets to give him the express checkout envelope and has to accost a startled valet parking attendant in the front driveway as she zips by in a tornadic blaze of boy-am-I-pissed-at-myself energy. By the way, thank you, John, for putting up with me.

So after that, everything went absolutely perfectly. The drive was beautiful, the navigation system was annoying but useful, the hotel was glorious, the dining experience memorable.  

As I walk along the beach, the roar of the ocean is hypnotic, the crisp glint of sun on the water is crystalline. The endless expanse of the Pacific is freedom from worry, stress, and busy-ness. I am in a time capsule, where there is no past and no future, only this moment, this bliss.

How often do you take the time to lose yourself in a place, experience the completeness of a single moment, in all its existential clarity? The place can be ordinary, sitting outside on the porch looking up the sky, or out the window at a bird building a nest in a tree. Meditate on the truth of how small you are, and how big God’s creation is. Touch it. Feel it. See it with your soul and your mind. Sense your significance in the midst of the mystery.

We don’t get snow very often around here, and it’s always a big deal when any of this funky white stuff hits the ground and actually sticks.

People often ask authors and creative people how they get their ideas. How do we become inspired, and can we train ourselves to be inspired on cue? Hmm. I don’t know if I have an answer to that one, because creative endeavors are so personal and individual, I think it’s a bit unfair to “cookbook” the idea to apply to a general population of artists.

As I’ve grown into my creative “skin,” so to speak, I’ve learned more and more to trust my instincts. The gut is a powerful organ, in my opinion, and though society tends to pooh-pooh what it terms emotional decision-making, I believe there are paths of knowing that cannot be rationally explained. The intellect cannot always process what the heart instantly knows or senses. Same thing with creative inspiration, the muse. What part of our mind works on creative problems while we toil away at our day jobs? What part of our mind reveals the solutions to us in our dreams? And what part of our mind tells us instantly when we’ve found our North Star?

Creativity breeds creativity. I think artists have an affinity for each other. Every soul desires community, but perhaps the artistic soul craves it more because of the very personal nature of the creative act. Creative professions are also very competitive and subjective. It’s hard to feel anchored when your success can sometimes depend on what a decision-making person had for breakfast that day and what mood they’re in when they judge your work. So when we come across a person that anchors us and creates a lightness or calmness in our soul, we immediately recognize it.

These are our North Stars. For me, this is the foundation of inspiration. I work in creative “fevers,” and most often, these fevers are inspired by a North Star. Someone I know or meet who has that certain grounding quality, an energy that hums in sync with mine, and brings back a lightness and joy to my writing. Seek out these kindred spirits to inspire you, and you’ll find yourself being a North Star to someone else.