Thanksgiving Week Break

It's Thanksgiving week and I have much to be grateful for--my health, my family, my ongoing pursuit of my goals.

I'm taking this week off to finish writing my fourth Golden Heart entry, prepare for Thanksgiving feasting, and decorate for the Christmas holiday.

I'm planning lots of adventures during the month of December. Travel to fun places, another trip to a Tennessee winery, pampering myself after a hard two months of writing, writing and MORE writing. I'm so excited to start posting about these adventures next week.

The last Golden Heart entry must go out by the 30th--overnight mail. I'm not sure how good it will be, but it ups my chances for two of my other entries which I think are strong. I enter the Golden Heart because it is a great way to push out a new story and a great way to force myself to write a synopsis. Finaling is a bonus that I would love to happen -- who wouldn't want to be in that golden circle? But to be honest, I'm more interested in generating stories that will sell one day.

Everyone who finals deserves to be there. Everyone who doesn't final should not believe that they didn't deserve to be there. I've read a lot of wonderful entries as a judge and many did not final. So there you have it--one entry must have many kind judges who read the story without prejudice and malice and are receptive to the story.

This is subjective.

But I digress. I'm back in my writing dungeon and I'm working hard. See you all in December!!

Happy Thanksiving :-)

RELIEF After the Storm

We're home. Finally. We arrived home to power and the ability resume our lives. We cleaned out our fridge and freezer, cuddled the kitties, went to the grocery story, cooked our own food, and slept in our own beds.

We were spared major upheaval. We were incredibly fortunate. I don't know why, but I am grateful. Others were not so fortunate. Many have lost everything. And my heart goes out to the families. There are a lot of people helping in the relief efforts. People cleaning up debris and taking care of the families who are in the most devastated areas of our state.

Even if people can't help in person, they can help by donating money to the relief efforts. If you feel compelled to help, please click here for more information. The Alabama Red Cross is a reputable organization.

I'm in awe of the power of these storms--tornadoes are vicious and non-discriminating creatures. I am still processing a lot. I know other survivors are processing a lot. I'm sleepy. I'm craving sugar. I'm shocked. I'm grateful. I'm sorrowful. I'm weepy. I'm glad. I'm stressed. I'm relieved.

These emotions are just part of healing. Another part of healing is resuming life. I'm beginning to write. I'm enjoying my home. I'm starting to read other people's writing.

Life is a gift. I always try to live it to the fullest. Now I have more reason to be positive and to strive to be a light in the world.

Life-Be Grateful-Be Very Grateful

Many of you might already know about the devastating tornadoes that ripped through the state of Alabama. I can't tell you how frightening that day, April 27th, was for me and my family. 16 hours of unending sirens, warnings, and horrific news flashes. 16 hours of texting my friends every time I went into the bathroom to let them know we were safe: for now. 16 hours of PURE TERROR. When the lights went out in Northern Alabama, we stepped outside. Not sure what to do. We saw two funnel clouds forming overhead, and one coming straight for our home. Back inside we ran. We three. An eerie silence. A POP. A moment where I believe we all thought "this is it."

It wasn't. It was not our turn. But that didn't make us any more special or god-loved. Nope. It didn't. Why were we spared a devastating tornado hit when just half a mile up the road a church steeple had been ripped off the church and flung to the ditches? Why were we spared when just a few miles north of us an entire neighborhood incurred so many losses of homes an even a fatality that the devastation is incomprehensible?

Why were we spared and others were not? I don't think I'm less of a sinner or more of a saint. I don't think my religion saved me, though I did have my bible in the bathroom and I did pray. I believe many others who weren't spared worse prayed, too, regardless of their faith background. I don't believe I had a extra divine intervention. I just believe that in praying I was given a measure of comfort during a terrible, frightening day. The words I read from my bible gave me a sense of calm I otherwise would not have had in those moments.

I am grateful for my life. I am grateful for my family. I am grateful that my house stands unscathed. I am grateful for my friends. I am grateful for my blog and cyber community. I am grateful that I am here typing these words.

I cry for the ones who sought comfort and didn't survive. I pray for their families. I cry for the families who have lost their homes in the matter of a moment in time--lives were shattered. And I pray for them to find a way to draw comfort from their faith, their friends, their loved ones.

On Wednesday, April 27th--in the dark gloom of the 16 hour day blaring warnings and striking fear into our hearts--my community lost so much. My state lost so much. But during that day, we held onto one thing that nothing could take away from us: our hearts. I am so grateful to all my friends who searched for me, who worried for me and my family, and who showed me that by focusing on what matters that I am indeed a blessed and rich woman.

Tears come whenever I think about all of the people who were praying FOR me and my family that day.

Thank you.

Who Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up?

Yesterday I blogged about my personal definition of success in my debut blog for the Petits Four & Hot Tamales. I called it My Success Story. If you haven't already checked it out, you can read about it here.

One of the most important personal beliefs I carry is that an Attitude of Gratitude and a Spirit of Encouragement will bring me greater happiness in life than all the material trappings of success. I have so many examples of successful people in my life who have taught me that it isn't the things you get, it's the way you live that counts when we are measured by a power higher than our own egos.

I have many personal favorite examples of success. My husband's Grandma Glover is one of them. She was a loving wife, mother, and grandmother who spent the majority of her life in the state of Texas. She didn't have books on shelves or make lots of money, but she had an Attitude of Gratitude and a Spirit of Encouragement. I don't think I ever heard her say an angry or spiteful thing in all the years I knew her. She was a truly humble soul. She gave of herself every day, and she met each day with joy in her heart. I often tell my husband that I want to be like Grandma Glover when I "grow up."

Grandma Glover had a wisdom that came from age, from sacrifice, from loss, and from faith. I admire that quality in my Dutch best friend's mother and father as well. They are not movie stars or celebrities, but they are amazing parents and grandparents. They shower their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren with love and affection. They honor their family with their words, their acts, and their presence. They are who I want to be when I "grow up."

I often read the obituaries for name ideas. Sometimes I find more than a name. I unearth a success story. I  discover a two column spread about a person who passed away after a long life. Everything written about the person describes a humble soul, a spirit of service, and a loving heart filled with a zest and a joy for life. That this person will be missed is clear in the depth of the praise for acts as simple as being a loving Pop Pop, or a friend to all the rescue animals, or the Best Momma in the World. I want to be one of them when I "grow up."

So I practice an Attitude of Gratitude and a Spirit of Encouragement while still stumbling over my own ego at times because I really do want to "grow up."

Who do you want to be when you "grow up?" Do you have any favorite stories you'd like to share with me? Who influences your spirit and heart in a positive way?

Grateful Hearts Lead to Happy Hearts

Thanksgiving is a time of gratitude, of sharing a meal with friends and family, and of remembrance. I love everything about Thanksgiving from the warm autumn colors, the parades, the football games (well I could probably go without the football), the comradeship, and the food. Can't forget the food.

This year we're sharing Thanksgiving with our new friends. We're having a huge feast which will include our spatchcock turkey, all the trimmings, smoked turkey breast, cornbread dressing, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, two pies.... ah.... food baby is on the way! I can't wait to break bread and share this day with them.

Imagine if we carried that spirit forward into all of our days? What if we opened our hearts to living a life of gratitude and giving all year round? Charities require more help during the holiday season, but wouldn't it be great if people gave to food pantries all year long? To homeless shelters? To (fill in the blank cause)?

I try to live a life of giving and service as well as one of gratitude. I admit, sometimes I have to dig deep for the spirit of gratitude when the clouds of loneliness, winter weather, and darker days descend. But I make the effort because if I can find something to be grateful for, then I can find a smidgeon of happiness in my day. A ray of light. And then I can carry that light into the world. And then maybe someone else's day might be a bit brighter.

One trick I learned was to write down 5 things a day that I'm grateful for. For instance, right now I am grateful for my health (which is a huge one), my darling daughter's spirit, my husband's job security, my new friends, and my writing community. I could list of a lot more things to be grateful about, but you get the picture. Having positive things to be grateful for helps me smooth away the rough edges of the things I am sad about, or the things I miss right now.

Confession: No, I am not Polly Anna and always filled with sunshine. I do bask in the sun a lot (I am like a cat that way), but I have days where growling is preferred to purring.

We all struggle with our own inner demons and disappointments. It is in how we handle them and work through them, that we show the measure of our willingness to be lights in the world. When I practice gratitude, I realize how blessed I am and I can't be grumpy anymore. Or maybe I just won't growl as much.

Happy Thanksgiving & Enjoy Your Day!!

Thanksgiving Part 3

I've often wondered why I tackled becoming a writer. Honestly, I haven't got the fabulous educational background of many of the writers I admire. Nope. I didn't go to Yale or Harvard. In my life before I became I writer, I didn't hold a job as a lawyer, doctor, anthropologist, television anchor or other some such type of illustrious career. Nope. I was lucky to get my degree in elementary education by the time I was 27. I worked a few years in radio and television and private education, but I never built a career.

I learned only two things about myself during the few years I dealt with corporate America: I hate office politics and I hate wearing pantyhose to work.

Any rate, after a few years of trying to climb the corporate ladder and bumping my head on a very low ceiling, I had a baby and I decided busting my stockings to get a promotion wasn't as eternal as raising a beautiful child. I've never regretted the decision.

When she entered the 4th grade, I rediscovered my earlier passion for writing. And that's what I've been mucking around doing ever since I dusted off my first attempts at writing a novel. I've learned a lot about writing and craft from my writing comrades, RWA, my writing chapters, more books than I care to admit I own and on-line workshops.

But the doubts and the questioning never leave me. Who am I to take on this task when I have such a muddled background? Do the words "I'm not worthy" ever cross your mind? They cross mine. They jump around my brain whenever I learn about that writer's degree in literature, or her illustrious career in technology and the writer who once wrote speeches for the President. Okay? Now that's a big scary deal for me.

So why do I even attempt this crazy adventure? I haven't got a Masters degree in anything, I haven't worked in a real job since 1994, and I didn't grow up in a family that bothered to nurture my talents. Nope. I had to fight for every success I had and that's where the chutzpah to write lives. My scrappiness.

I learned a lot about life in a different college: the college of hard knocks and streetwise living. I've been on my own since I was 16 years old. I fought to get my GED and, after my DH married me, I taught myself the SAT with a big book of tests. I entered university, got scholarships and busted my buns to finish my degree in less than 4 years (my DH had married me for my, uh, cooking ability, not my education as I had none to speak of other than the GED).

I may not have any experience tackling corporate giants or winning cases in the courtroom, but I know how to flip a burger, pump gas, make beds, clean hotel rooms, assist the elderly and nurture children. I can type faster than most secretaries. I've knocked back beer in an Ice Shack in Houston, and I've hobnobbed with Nobel Prize winners while sipping Kir Royale. I've played pool with biker chicks, and I've hosted dinner parties for distinguished scientists. I've sat in a bar outside of Phoenix and chatted with the locals about the humidity. I've canoed down the Dordogne and toured castles. I've slept in a pup tent next to the Redwoods. I've flown first class to Europe.

I've had nothing. I've experienced everything.

When I was eighteen, if you opened my fridge, you'd find a large 7-11 Slushy and a potato. I've dated guys because they paid for my dinner and I was hungry. I've eaten 8 course meals in Sarlat, France. I've known extreme loneliness, the kind where I've considered rushing off a balcony of a twentieth floor high rise because who would care if I was gone? I've known extreme joy, the kind where I've wanted to bottle the bubbling happiness and cork it so I can pop it open, and let it stream over me when I am sad again.

Today I am thankful for my life. For all of it. For the ugly chunks of my childhood, for the brief glimmers of joy even then. I mine the coals of hurt, pain, frustration, anger and bitterness for my stories. I  open the shell surrounding my heart and draw out pearls of ecstasy to endow my characters with abiding joy.

I'm grateful for the natural talents and intelligence given to me, but I am actually more thankful for being forced to live in circumstances that brought me to my knees, humbled. I am grateful because I believe my street education, and my ability to transcend that background, have given me an opportunity to give back the greatest gift I've received: HOPE.

My stories are about two people finding each other and discovering home. Today I'm grateful I found my hero. Today I'm grateful we created our own safe place to fall.