I'M MOVING!

I've found a new home! Everyone needs a change of scenery once in a while. For me, the new scenery is over at wordpress with my new blog. Well, not new. It's the same old blog you see here, with just a bit of a face lift. I have different pages now and all sorts of other features that fit my current stage in life a little better than this blog. So please come over and check out my new diggs (still under construction). My new address is http://www.womenswritingcenter.wordpress.com/. Hope to see you there soon! Thanks for checking in!

Behind a Mask

I've been working on telling the truth. To myself, to others, in writing, and out loud. I've been working on being real and clear and authentic. Telling the truth means saying what really happened, telling how you really feel, expressing what you really want. And that's hard! Most of us live our lives hidden discretely behind a mask. We put up a front, we cover up, we lie, to make people think we are someone different than who we really are. Or perhaps we do it to protect ourselves or others from pain, embarrassment, or discomfort. Maybe we are afraid of what others will think of us, or how the truth will change our lives. The truth does change lives. That's just the way it is. But getting through those changes and turning them into positive, transformative experiences is what makes truth-telling so powerful.

This blog, and other attempts at sharing my writing are some of the ways I am practicing truth-telling. Not long ago, I hid most of my writing from others. I shared my writing with very few people, if at all. I was afraid of what others would think of me. Maybe they would think I'm not such a good writer. Maybe they'd be shocked by my subject-matter or opinions. Maybe my secrets would change their opinions of me. Maybe people would look at me differently, laugh at me, get angry with me, or think I'm odd. Maybe I'd get hurt.

But, with encouragement from writing friends, teachers, and loved ones, I took the leap and began "publishing." And here I am, 80 or so posts in and I have never felt better about myself and my writing. I don't know who reads this blog, or if anyone even does (if you do, why don't you comment once in a while!). But I post anyway. I write about what's going on in my life. I write what I am thinking about. I write to share, inspire, and express. And I try, with every word, to tell the truth.

Telling the truth is freeing in a way that can only be understood by experiencing it. First there is fear. Then there is the act of truth-telling - filled with all the anxiety, excitement, and questioning that comes with putting yourself "out there." But then there is this release - it's out there, you've set it free. You can't take it back and even if you can, it's too late. You've said it or written it and the moment has passed. Then you stand up, take a look at yourself, and realize that you're OK. Life did not end, the world did not come crashing down around you. Chances are, your family and friends did not immediately call you up to laugh at you, yell at you, blame you, or scorn you. You are OK. You've lived through it and you have changed because of it.

That's how I feel every time I post a blog entry or read a piece I've written out loud. I felt especially strong and free when my podcast was broadcast on Women Writing for (a) Change http://www.womenwriting.org/. My voice, my writing, and my truth are now out there for anyone in the world to hear. And I'm not so scared anymore. I've told my truth, I've set it free, and I'm moving on. I'm moving on to further truths, deeper truths. I'm moving on to become more real, more free, more clear, and more authentic.

I'm taking off the mask and stepping out into the world as ME. I don't want to be afraid anymore about what others will think or say or feel. I don't want to worry so much about the opinions of others. And I don't want to shape myself to fit anyone else's idea of who I should be. I want to be who I am. And though I haven't yet figured out completely who that is, I'll be sure to tell the truth when I do.

Craving a Good Book

Oh, I ache to sprawl out on a lawn chair to read a great novel. I yearn to curl up in a corner chair and dive into a classic. I dream of lazy days, laying on a blanket on the lawn with a bowl of apples and a juicy novel. I wish, I wish, I wish, I could read a novel right now!

But I can't. I am busy writing my thesis and cannot be distracted with great works of literature and art. I LOVE books, and tend to dive in and get obsessed. I often read books from start to finish in one sitting, if I tend to fall in love. Or, if I can't do that, I'll spend every free moment with book in hand, devouring as much as I can in the time I have to spare.

I miss books! Well, novels. For the past two years I have read books in enormous quantities. I have even read a novel or two. But all of my reading has been focused on my graduate studies and the ultimate thesis. I love everything I read, of course, but it also seemed a bit like work. Reading for school is a duty, a requirement (even if self-subscribed), and something that must be done instead of something that is desired.

I want to read a novel just for the thrill of it, for the pleasure, for the experience. I want to sink into imaginary worlds and fantastic fictional situations. I want to dive into character's lives and leap from page to page as the story bounds ahead. I want to read!

The best chances I might get to dive into a novel or two are through books on CD when I make my weekly drive to Cincinnati, or as I read books aloud to one of the students I tutor. Those opportunities, though not preferred, will have to do for now; until I finish my thesis, at least. The distraction is just too great, and I know if I picked up a novel right now I would read instead of write. And that can't happen!

So I'll wait. I'll listen to books on CD and live vicariously through my student. I'll sample short magazine articles and read snippets here and there from anthologies. And I'll yearn for the day when I can open a full-length novel, thick and heavy with words and stories, and dive in to reading again for the joy of it.

Where I'm From

Here's a free-write from the poem, "Where I'm From" by George Ella Lyon. When I say free-write, that means that I wrote freely - without worrying or editing or analyzing. This is just the way the words fell on to the page...try it yourself.


I am from beach sand and salt air,
From digging ‘til we reached water and
Mud pies in the back yard.
I am from painting rocks and riding bikes,
And learning to swim before I could walk.
I am from pungent odors from the Lobster Barn
And reeking low tide.
I am from itchy eyes and sneezing, the Memorial Day parade,
Summers at Spermacetti Cove, and sleigh-riding down the school hill.
I am from a single mom with three jobs,
A dad who never lived up to the expectation,
Fierce protection of siblings and
Diebold-Kuser wars.
I am from Marlboro Reds and Budweiser,
The step-daughter and the middle-child,
The fat girl and the best friend, and
The one who always got hurt in the end.
I am from road trips and heading out,
From secrets and hidden dreams,
From heart break and hope, and
Where do I go from here?
I am from listening and getting through it,
From “it’s not my shit” and “don’t cry out loud,”
From wading through flood waters and
Dancing in the hospital elevator.
I am from Jiffy-Pop and candle-lit dinners,
From concoctions and Chunky Beef over rice,
From making due and doing our best and
Never letting them get us down.
I am from who I once was to who I am now,
From transformation and evolution,
From a little bit crazy and a whole lot of fun,
From giving it all and wanting so much,
From wishing and hoping and dreaming and
Doing.

Waiting For My Soul to Catch Up

A teacher once explained to me the Native American belief that our souls need time to "catch up" after a journey. At the time, I was having trouble writing about a recent move from my home at the New Jersey Shore to the mountains of Colorado. I couldn't put my experiences into words and was even struggling to center myself in this new time and space. My teacher told me that I needed to let my soul catch up and settle back in to my body before I could fully take in those experiences. I almost feel the same way right now. I have just returned from a ten-day trip to the East Coast to visit home, family, and friends. Driving back to Indiana yesterday, going 7o mph on the Interstate, I think I may have left my soul behind. And now I am waiting for it to catch up.

I have unpacked, settled the material things, started the laundry, and quickly jumped back into the routine; but I am feeling a little "off," like something is missing. The last ten days were a flurry of activity. I stayed in a different place almost every night. I visited or drove through seven states. I played with nieces and a nephew, spent time with my siblings and my mother, visited friends, and hung out with children I used to take care of (now in their teens!). I walked for hours on the beach, my toes sinking into the wet sand as the waves gently washed over them, and journeyed around New York City on foot. I took a boat cruise and a train trip, and I drove (and drove and drove and drove). I had a wonderful time and I enjoyed every experience. The trip was fulfilling and exhausting. By the time I pulled in to my driveway back in Indiana last night, I don't think I could have driven another mile or slept anywhere but my own bed. It was so nice to be home (this home in Indiana).

But it still feels like I am not fully home yet. It feels like I am only halfway here. And here is different. It's almost like I am looking at it with new eyes. I wonder, will my eyes ever adjust so I see this place the same way I did before? Or is this new perspective the way it will be for me from now on? Once my soul catches up, will I just go back to the way I was? Or did this recent experience change me - like most experiences do - and transform me into someone new?

I'll have to wait and see. I'll have to wait for my soul to catch up and see who I am then, when body and soul merge back into one.

Heading Out

I'm hitting the road tomorrow; off on a ten day trip back home to New Jersey. I haven't been "home" in about nine months. That's a long time for me. I am looking forward to seeing family and friends, dipping my feet in the ocean, smelling the salty sea air, being back where everything is familiar and comfortable, and just being "home." But I am also looking forward to the journey, being on the road. I love road trips!

On my first big road trip, back in 1997, my brother and I drove across the country from New Jersey to California, in winter. We took our time and stopped at national parks, interesting places, and anything that caught our attention. Our destination was Boulder, Colorado, where I lived for six months. But we took the long way to get there.

Once in Colorado, the road trip bug had gotten a hold of me and I headed out in my little Volkswagen Golf as often as I could. My two new friends in Boulder, Kendra and Scott, often joined me for the ride. We cruised winding mountain roads, explored new paths, and set out across the great wide open of Colorado. We spent a lot of time at Rocky Mountain National Park, as well.

After moving back home from Colorado, I took trips up and down the east coast, spending a lot of time traveling to New England. I fell in love with the countrysides of Vermont and Massachusetts and found myself driving the quiet, country roads often. I searched for places to visit on these roads and found numerous treasures along the path. Included in these was the town of Concord, Massachusetts, home of Louisa May Alcott, Henry David Thoreau, and Ralph Waldo Emerson, among others. Walking the streets in Concord where these literary legends once lived, took me back in time. I visited their homes, their gravesites, and walked the trails at Walden Pond - every step taking me further into history. I count the discovery of Concord as one of the jewels of my travels.

Maine became another love of mine as I traveled the roads of New England. I've been up and down the coast of Maine and out into the countryside. I've camped in wet tents among towering trees and hiked wandering paths in deep woods. I've seen whales, sharks, and other marine life in the icy waters off the coast. I've shopped, eaten, and walked the hilly streets of Portland. I've climbed mountains at Acadia National Park and toured Monhegan Island by foot. And of course, I've seen the lighthouses. I miss Maine - and all my adventures there - and keep the memories of my travels in Maine close to my heart.

Then, three years after the first trip to Colorado, I returned. Again, I hit the road across the country, this time on my own. Driving up and down the east coast and around New England alone was one thing, but heading out on my own to Colorado was a whole other adventure for me. This time seemed different. I was older, more experienced, and more directed in my dreams. I had a destination in mind, now, and I headed toward it with determination. Unfortunately, the destination I intended turned out to be the wrong fit, so I left Colorado after only eight months and headed back to New Jersey. But not for long.

Soon I was on the road again, back to New England, around New Jersey and New York, and out to Ohio and Indiana to visit a friend, Kendra, that same friend who joined me on road trips in Colorado. One trip to the Midwest changed my life once again and sent me in a whole new direction. At Kendra's wedding in Indiana, I met her brother, Ron and started a relationship. Unfortunately, he lived in Indiana and I in New Jersey. So I hit the road often, driving out to Indiana for visits and also meeting him halfway in Somerset, Pennsylvania. But soon the relationship grew and I decided it was time to make a move. So I headed out again, this time to Yellow Springs, Ohio to live for a year and see where this road would take me.

A year later, the road took me to Ron's home in Indiana, where I live now. And that brings me to this moment in time - living in Indiana, far from home, and ready for a road trip. So I'm heading out tomorrow. The first leg of the trip will take us to Somerset, Pennsylvania, the town where Ron and I used to meet halfway. After that, it's straight on to New Jersey on Friday. Ron flies back to Indiana on Monday and I hit the road again to Rhode Island and Massachusetts, and of course, all over New Jersey. Then a week later, I will take that long road back to Indiana, to my new home, and set a new path for myself there.

The road is waiting....and I'm ready to head out.

Write it Down!

I remember the lists - grocery lists, things-to-do lists, Christmas card lists, birthday lists, lists of goals, and lists of dreams. Lists were a constant in my growing up years. My mother was a lister. I think, for her, putting things down on the page made her busy life easier to organize. I think she also liked the satisfaction of checking items off the list once she accomplished them. Growing up watching my mother write her lists and check off accomplishments, I learned to be a lister, too.

There are, of course, the usual lists like those mentioned above, but I have learned new ways of listing through my study of writing. Listing can be a wonderful journaling tool to get down thoughts, feelings, emotions, goals, dreams, fears, and so much more. Lists can also provide you with topics to write about, ideas for an upcoming project, inspirations for a creative activity, or evidence of the mind at work. But what I find the most powerful about listing is the practice: "Write it Down, Make it Happen" (the phrase borrowed from the book by the same name by Henriette Anne Klauser).

Writing something down - whether it be a grocery list or a list of life dreams - is a conscious act, and the first step in accomplishing the task. Sure, shopping for groceries is much easier than getting a master's degree, for example, but they are both items on a things-to-do list, tasks to be completed in life. Writing it down is the first step toward making it happen. Just that one simple act of putting the pen to the page and stating the goal - read 3 novels this month, take the car in for an oil change, join a health club, go back to school, climb Mount Everest - is enough to kick-start the action response.

What you are doing when you write down your dreams, goals, and desires, is putting out in the "universe" a positive statement about what you want. This one statement, phrased with decisiveness and clarity, can open opportunities you might never have imagined. Think about how you write in your journal (or wherever you write) - is it all negativity, sorrow, and complaining? If so, how does that make you feel when you write? I would guess that you feel full of negativity, sorrow, and complaints. But if you write honest, clear, positive statements, that lean toward hopefulness and motivation, I would guess that your feelings reflect this way of writing. And when we feel honest, clear, positive, hopeful, and motivated, we are more likely to take action on the things we want and put ourselves "out there" to receive these things.

I have used this practice of writing it down and making in happen in small and large ways. Of course there are the typical lists of things to do on a daily basis, but there is so much more. I use lists for writing topics, things I remember, things I love, places I've been, things I want, places I want to go, goals I hope to achieve, reasons to do (or not do) something, things to say, pros and cons, ways to give, lessons to learn (or lessons learned), opportunities to pursue, fears to overcome.....and the list goes on. (See, I'm always listing!)

Think about it...what do you want? What do you want to achieve? What steps do you have to take to get there? Have you thought of something yet? Well, go ahead, write it down. And then, make it happen!

Facing the Fear of Writing

A writing friend and I were recently talking about the fears many people have about writing. There is something that blocks us, something that tells us we "can't" or'"shouldn't" or "wouldn't know how to begin" writing. Perhaps it comes from childhood when we were taught the "rules" of writing, or from the many humiliating red marks on a writing assignment in school. Maybe we think we are not good enough or that writing is meant for someone else - someone more creative or talented or interesting or famous. Or maybe we think that what we have to say is just not that interesting.

Well, let me tell you this...anyone can write, anyone should write, and beginning is as easy as putting the pen to the page and writing the first word. We all have lives full of stories, adventures, opinions, comedies, and tragedies. We all have stories to share. What you have to say is interesting and wonderful and worth sharing with whomever is willing to hear it.

But there are still fears. Pat Schneider, author of Writing Alone and With Others says, "The first and greatest fear that blocks us as writers is fear of the truth we may discover." We often walk through the world oblivious to or perhaps ignoring who we really are inside, or what we really want from life. We shut ourselves off to the inner emotions so we can "get by" in the world. Facing these secrets is terrifying. What will happen to us if we discover we aren't living the life we really want? Or that we are in a relationship that makes us unhappy? Or we really wish we could be someone other than the person we present to the outside world? These discoveries can be scary and painful and confusing, but they can also lead to personal transformation that will change your life. Schneider says, " Where there is fear, there is buried treasure. Something important lies hidden - something that matters." And she continues, "The act of writing is a tremendous adventure into the unknown, always fraught with danger. But the deeper you go and the longer you work at your art, the greater will be your treasure."

So how do we begin writing when we are paralyzed by so much fear? There are many suggestions from experts in the writing field such as Pat Schneider, Julia Cameron, Natalie Goldberg, Tristine Rainer, and Christina Baldwin. Pick up a book by any one of these writers and you are bound to find useful, inspiring, and creative advice about the writing process. I should know, I have read everything these authors have written and much more. But I'll tell you what works for me, and it is probably the simplest, cheapest, and most portable form I know. What do I do? I just write. I get a notebook - any kind from a $.99 drugstore notebook to an elaborate, handcrafted journal. I get a pen - again, any kind will do as long as you are comfortable with the grip, color, and the way the ink flows across the page. Then I sit down anywhere - at home, in the car, outdoors, at a coffee shop, while waiting for an appointment, on a train, at a bookstore - anywhere. And I write.

I write about what is important to me at the moment or something I am planning. I write about my relationship or my family or friends. I write about how I am feeling about particular topics or something that pissed me off. And when I can't think of anything to write about or when I feel blocked or overwhelmed or tired or confused, I try other tactics. I describe what I see in front of me, paying particular attention to detail. I use writing prompts such as Natalie Goldberg's "I remember..." exercise. I play with words and sounds and try to create interesting combinations of phrases and poetry. I write quotes or song lyrics I can remember and go from there. I make lists. I jot down ideas. I even doodle. I do whatever I need to do, whatever I want to do to get the creativity flowing and the words down on the page.

There is never a requirement for how much to write, how often, or for how long. There is no right way to shape your writing in a set form or structure. There are never any rules about what you need to say or how you say it. There are no requirements at all, except to write. That's it - pick up the pen, put it to the page, and write. Face the fear, whatever it is, and just write.

Don't worry; if this is your personal journal, no one is ever going to see it unless you want them to. This is a safe space, for you and your words alone. No one is there to judge or criticize or laugh at you. No one is there to comment, raise their eyebrows, give suggestions, or make changes. This writing is yours. You are in charge of what is written and what becomes of that writing. Later, if you feel comfortable, perhaps you can find a way to share this writing with others. But until then, keep it as your own. Make your writing time special, sacred, important. Give this time and space to yourself as a gift. Use writing as a way to take care of yourself, appreciate yourself, even pamper yourself. Tell your story and let it live on the page, in your heart, and maybe someday, out in the world. Because it is your story - and it is important.

If Women Ruled the World

If women ruled the world, what would our lives be like? Would we have time to gather together for coffee in the afternoon just to talk, laugh, be together? Would we be able to express ourselves however we wished, follow our passions, and have the courage to be who we really are? Would we risk eating whatever we wanted because it just tastes so good? Would we work together in community to create an environment of sharing, compassion, and well-being? Would LOVE be a word spoken out loud, all the time, without fear or shame or worry? Would nature be protected and the environment nurtured? Would we learn from each other and teach what we've learned? Would we reach out to each other, holding hands in peace and togetherness? Would children be as safe, nurtured, educated, and valued as they should? Would we dance, sing, shout, paint, create, build, write, and play just because we love it? Would we all have a voice and the freedom to be heard?

What would the world be like if women ruled? What would you change if you could?

Slowing Down Time

My niece, Camden, turned five today. And when she woke up this morning, my sister told me Camden said, "It's my birthday! I'm FINALLY five!" Like she had been waiting so long. I guess to a small child it seems like forever before you grow up. Everyone else is older, can do more, has seen more. Everyone else has more stuff, gets to take part in more adventures, has more responsibilities. Five-year-olds are just beginning.

I hope Camden doesn't grow up too fast. Her older sister, Madeline is already in first grade - impossible to comprehend! Camden will be starting Kindergarten next year. It goes too fast. Especially now that I live far away and can't watch them grow.

I wish I could slow down time and keep them little for a while longer. Pretty soon Madeline will be too cool to hang out with her Aunt Dawny, and Camden will shoot up like a weed. Their cousins Oriah and Braden are growing up fast, too. And now there's another one on the way. I just can't fathom the speed of time. One moment they are infants, cradled in your arms. And the next moment, they are turning five, or learning to tie their shoes, or potty training, or learning to read. Where did the time go?

Happy Birthday, Camden. I love you.