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.

Hi all,

Despite a crashed hard drive and a nasty case of food poisoning last night, I’m happy to say that the San Diego photo album is finally up at my MySpace page.

Enjoy!

M

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?

Hey folks,

The new Los Angeles photo album is up. Meet my friends from Italy here!

Hi all,

The most recent book signing photo album is up on my MySpace page. I’m also working on new photo albums for Los Angeles and San Diego. Hope to have them up this weekend.

Ciao!

Sorry I haven’t blogged in a while. I’m still recovering from the trip back home. Whenever I travel by myself, it’s always very interesting trying to manage my luggage. The irony of traveling with a bad back—you can’t travel light. Too many “peripherals” are necessary for maximum functionality. Or maybe I’m just a girl who likes to have wardrobe choices…

So to finish my library story. On Friday, I did in fact commandeer the microfilm reader, after stalking the front door of the library (remember the old Mervyn’s commercial—Open, Open, Open!) with another fellow researcher a few minutes before opening time. He was there early, too. I had a sense he might want the microfilm reader, so I moved closer to the door. He eyed me. I appeared nonchalant. The door opened and I made my move. I shoved my list of microfilm reels in the library workers’ hands as I listened to the other guy ask her to show him how to search the newspaper microfilm. She looked at me knowingly. My expression must have spoken volumes. She said she was going to let me go first since I’d been there yesterday trying to get on the machine. Yes! Sweet victory!

On another note, I was amazed to discover that absinthe was being served at a restaurant in San Diego within walking distance of my hotel. Since absinthe plays a key role in my novel, I decided to do some research on my own. I looked rather silly sitting by myself with a generous 3-oz pour of approximately 90-proof liquor (after diluted), taking pictures of the pretty colors… Needless to say, I didn’t finish it, as I needed to walk back to the hotel without falling down. But now I can say I know what it tastes like.

If you haven’t figured it out by now, I take my research very seriously.

But it is good to be back in Texas, where people open doors for you unbidden, and people say hello with a smile, just because they’re friendly. As much as I hate the fire ants and big squishy bugs and quirky weather and the occasional softball-size hail that comes with living in Tornado Alley, there really is no place like home.

It’s been a whirlwind of activity from dawn ‘til dusk here in sunny San Diego. My recent excursions to the Hotel Del have yielded some interesting photos of the hotel and surrounding grounds. Many of the hotel staff seem like career professionals. One spectacularly tanned valet parking manager in Oakley shades wielded an intimidating traffic cop “talk to the hand” move when he firmly commanded me to stop to allow a taxi to pull out in front of me in the gridlock of the main circular drive on Sunday morning. Since then, the traffic has thinned out a bit, but it is fun to watch him being the alpha male of the pack. You gotta love what you do, I suppose. My waiter at the restaurant said he’d been with the hotel for thirteen years. Wow. Most people don’t stay at executive-level jobs that long these days.

I met a woman in the gift shop who’d just moved to San Diego three weeks ago from Fort Worth. While we were talking, the man next to me commented that he was from San Antonio. What is it about Texans? We always seem to find each other, wherever we are.

It was quite lovely dipping my toes into the Pacific and sitting on the beach with my journal, being writerly though looking pretty darn dorky. Good news? The self-portrait function on my new camera seems to work swimmingly, so I’ll have all kinds of photos of me in tourist-geek getup. In this photo, I’m not smiling because there was sand blowing in my face at the time.

Today I prowled the campus of San Diego State University in college coed disguise, hopefully incognito, looking for the Special Collections section of the library. Did I mention that I didn’t have a campus map and was counting on my oh-so-infallible sense of direction to guide me to the right place?  Yes, indeed, I called the library office and asked how to get to the Dome. The answer: by walking around to the other side of the building I was sitting in front of. The end result, however, of this excursion was a treasure trove of old photos of places I needed to see in my mind. Funny little historical details that make me marvel at the way art imitates life and vice versa. And how much this story has found me and taken hold of me, how it begs to be written, and how I am forever entwined with it.

Despite the long grueling research sessions and the musty smells and uncomfortable chairs, I wouldn’t have traded the past two days for anything. I have learned so much and come so far already. I just hope I can store it all in my mind for future use. Oh, and the weather: absolute perfection. Thank you, San Diego, for not disappointing….