Five Years a Writer

The other day, I was at the top end of a stepladder and it was only when I was trying to come down that same ladder that I realized how much more challenging it is to descend than it is to ascend . This gave me pause.  On my own, I had been able to get the ladder, place it and climb it quite easily. Being on the roof and completing my task of securing a few loose shingles was also straightforward, but getting back down was a different story and that’s where it all fell apart.  The ladder was positioned such that I could have, in theory, just climbed down. After all, I had climbed up easily enough. However, stepping off the roof and onto the ladder was too scary for me. The risk of falling seemed enormous. Even though the height between me on the roof and safety on the ground was not more than 12 feet, it may as well have been 100: The ladder was standing on the deck and the deck stands about 20 or so feet above the lake (hence Clifftop Cottage). It was my imagination that...

Today marks 100 days of living in COVID-19 lockdown for me. It is a new normal, and I am getting used to it. The changes in routines and habits no longer seem strange, but I remember how it used to be — and that is reason to pause and reflect. My fingers are crossed that we are in some sort of mid-point in our COVID-19 living experience, so I’m using this 100-day mark to take stock.  When teaching, I do an informal mid-term course evaluation with the students and then close the course with a formal evaluation. The data I gather from the mid-term check-in tends to be more useful: We are still in throes of the learning plan; no one is checking out yet; and we all know there is a further distance to travel before our destination is reached.  I use a simple format to get input from the students: I ask, What should I keep doing? What should I stop doing? What should I start doing? So, I’m asking myself the same questions about living under COVID lockdown:  KEEP being creative ...

The big meeting I had recently did not net me the result I wanted or, frankly, was expecting. The decision makers chose the status quo not change. I had really wanted the chance to implement my proposal, and I’m disappointed that I don’t have it.  I realize that part of what I’m wrestling with is a relatively unfamiliar feeling: not getting what I want. I'm not talking about not getting the doll I wanted when I was seven (I had been hoping for a Betsy Wetsy, but she was not under the tree for me) or not getting the lead role in the school play. I'm talking about not getting something that was meaningful to me as a seasoned professional, something that I believed my track record had earned me. In contemplating my feelings about this loss, I am realizing that, within my privilege of white middle class educated experience, I am much more used to getting, if not exactly what I want, then getting something close enough that I come out on the winning side and am, thus, able to easi...

I have pledged to write a new post for this blog every day in May.  Today is the last post for this year’s A Post a Day in May. So, I have achieved my goal — one post every day for 31 days straight. However, achieving the goal is only completion; it is not the end.  I have loved the daily posting this year. It came during a busy month that included long work days and an unexpected family crisis that saw my mother need emergency surgery. Early on, I thought that I would have to quit the challenge, stop before even having reached the half-way point. But, when I considered shutting it down, I realized I did not want to stop. The daily deadline gave my days an urgent priority that channeled my energy into a razor-sharp focus. I wanted to meet the May 1 brief every day. And, to a greater or lesser extent, I have done precisely that.  Setting the goal. Making the plan. Doing the work — it’s rewarding, satisfying and meaningful. Because today, Day #31, I feel ab...

I have pledged to write a new post for this blog every day in May.  Virginia Woolf wrote in 1929 that a woman needs a room of her own in which to write; this is possibly the best known or most popular quote by the author. But I learned recently of another one that is running a close second for me these days.  “ Nothing has really happened until it has been recorded .” I also came across it as, “Nothing has really happened until it has been described .” She apparently said this to a young writer.  Regardless of the specific verb Woolf used, I like the intent of this, to my mind, acute observation. Though not to be taken literally — for the cat shrieks when its tail is pulled, whether or not the pain is recorded or described, the act surely occurred — Woolf’s intent must have been that to understand the meaning of the act (or event, occurrence, situation, etc.) one must reflect on it, give words to the experience and, in so doing, bring understanding to it....

I have pledged to write a new post for this blog every day in May.  “I was born into freedom,” I said one Sunday morning on the way to a fancy fundraising brunch with some friends. “I was born into a stable family with parents who loved me unconditionally.”  No one can be more lucky than that.  Photo by  m wrona  on  Unsplash All my good fortune and privilege in this life arises from that solid start. It is the springboard from which I have launched fun and work, that catapulted me into friendships and adventures, and that gave me a boost every time I started a new school or a new job. My feet were on solid emotional ground, enabling my heart and head to take on challenges, face risks, and overcome obstacles.  So when I hear someone described as “so lucky”, I wonder what their start in life was and how secure the springboard is from which they launch themselves into the world.  Recently, on the Jungle Red Writers blog t...

I have pledged to write a new post for this blog every day in May.  They say, being prepared is half the battle. I say, it is the whole battle.  If we are prepared for the battle (metaphorical in my case), then we have done all we can. Whatever happens in the moment, we will respond as best we can. We bring our experience, knowledge and wisdom to that moment; we make a decision; we act. And we move on. That is how we make our mark in this world. Sometimes it sounds like a roar -- literally, we shout, yell, scream. We rise up in the streets. Other times, it sounds like quiet, calm confidence. At a table. My big meeting is over and done. My proposal will be accepted or not. But I have roared. And that is all I can do in this moment.  ------------ Writers want to be read, so comments, rebuttals and feedback are all welcome. Subscribe to the blog to receive the posts direct into your email inbox. Use Google Chrome or FireFox as your browser, if...