"the years only make us more of ourselves." 

a friend turned forty.  my son starts high school in a few weeks at my old high school.  and my crash-and-burn watersport injury is over a week and half old and i still can't take a deep breath without pain in the ribs -- i used to bounce right back from such things. 

age.  and i'm okay with it.  i like the above quote and find for me and hopefully many others, it's true.  when you live in your hometown, people have known you, and you've known them forever, or so you think you know one another.  some friends say that i've changed, changed a lot (hopefully not in a bad way).  i don't think i've really changed, and this quote sort of defined it.  i've only become more myself.  a few of those glimpses are coming into light.  pieces are clicking together.  less and less of me feels the need to apologize for how i view things and what i feel compelled toward.  a strength perhaps.  a vision with the determined force to race toward it.  for a while now, it's felt like much of my life was bumping around in the dark, finding familiar forms, fearing what i couldn't see but trusting the hand guiding me along (what else was there to do?).  there are times god strengthens our trust in him, then we get back to running that race, and running it hard.      

a friend and i discussed various religions yesterday.  there are issues with americanized christianity that are tough at times, and truth is found in all religions.  but what christ offers is grace.  free to me, but not free to him.  grace that is also love, peace, hope, and a whole slew of other wondrous things.  and i'll take it, every day as air to breath.  i'll cheer and laugh and jump around a bit if we get talking much about grace.  it's free stuff without guilt but with eternal benefits -- and god, yes god indeed to be discovered and known (as much as we earthlings can know him).  i'm in.   

a strange mistaken twist yesterday brought me, instead of the intended person, talking for an hour via phone to someone who had a shotgun beside him and was ready to leave this world.  what words to say and how needy we are for god in such times.  and yet, all the time too.  and i'm just fine with being a needy person; i'm needy for air and food and blood flowing through my viens, and for a good swim like i had today.  

age.  i think i'm finally okay with it all.  also reading "the fountainhead" by ayn rand.  what a grand experience that's been so far.  rather transforming on a multitude of levels.  all of it is invigorating on the writing side of life.  some story is brewing, i feel it both in my stomach and chest.  can't wait to explore it, run with it. 

all around us

at our community pool, i’ve seen a couple come and go with their little baby and all the baby accessories.  once we left at the same time, so we waved goodbye and i saw them pack everything into their blue SUV-thingie.  every time i drive by and see that blue SUV-thingie, i smile thinking of them swimming with their baby and carrying more than people without babies carry when going to the pool for the afternoon.  
 
nearly every morning around 10AM, a guy swims with his two dogs on the other side of the lake.  i can’t see him very well, so can’t guess his age and i don’t know who he is, but i’ve come to hope he and his dogs will be there whenever i realize it’s that time of day.  one dog is white and the other yellow (labs perhaps), and they love splashing and swimming around the guy – the water goes a-flying.  he tosses a stick and they all swim out toward it as if racing and laughing together.  i like that guy whoever he is; somehow he makes my day better than it was at 9:45.    
  
i know at least three friends who work in offices and read my blog, and i can picture each of them in their little spaces, working on the work they do (hello, hello!).  i like picturing them there; it comforts me to see them even when they’re far away or we haven’t spoken in a while.  
 
once i had a friend with a little photo of himself in his cubicle with pin pricks in it, he liked to throw pencils i guess.  he said, “me, the target.  but i don’t feel that way any more.”  he pulled it down and tossed it away.  i always meant to ask him about that, and wish i’d kept the picture – even if it was a really bad photo of him.  
 
maybe my friends in their offices are having a bad day today.  maybe their bosses are making them crazy.  maybe the library members, subcontractors, and authors are being demanding.  maybe today rather stinks in their life.  maybe that guy with his dogs has only one good half hour in the day, or maybe one day i won’t see him again.  maybe my old friend feels like a target again.  and still, somehow, both stranger and friend make my life richer just picturing them, wondering about them, praying for them, imagining their routine, thanking them for what they’ve given me, and even missing them terribly. 
 
my youngest son’s question keeps coming at me, “what is your greatest heart’s desire?”  i can come up with some pretty good-sounding spiritual answers – and i even mean them.  but then there’s my earthly answers, and self-sacrificing ones, the selfish, the horribly honest, and then my wonderfully honest answers, and i’ve just decided that i must have several hearts for all the desires within them.  
 
how can it possibly be this hard to live here on planet earth?  seems the older i get, the more complicated it becomes, and the less most of us see things as black and white but instead understand there are many layers and depths beyond our easy glance.  we understand better how people do the things they do, even if we don’t agree with them or ever want to walk such paths or just don't have such affinities.  but we get it.  we can see a hint of waywardness within ourselves or our own secret wishes and it heightens our compassion and understanding.  maybe that’s why.  maybe discovering deeper levels of compassion inside, desired needs of forgiveness, more substantial beauty in what we’d once pass on by – maybe that’s why it’s hard on ole planet earth.  
  
i don’t know.  i’m just thinking here. 

a good life and its struggle to be

"the struggle to find others with whom we can share our lives, others who give our lives texture and color and meaning, has been going on forever.

"the task of finding work to do that is fulfilling and productive and sufficient for our needs has been constant.

"the need for rest and sustenance and time apart has been never-ending.

"our hope and yearning and our desire for god, and a life lived with god, have been everlasting, from age to age."

sometimes you find the words that exactly describe your own search, and really mankind's search for the most part -- though don't we know so many who sit down and give up on it (don't we sometimes too)? the balancing of this struggle, these needs, hopes and yearnings and searches -- this is my struggle, your too perhaps. one complicates the other. i strive harder for that fulfilling work and find myself lost in another area. i discover someone who gives my life texture and then the busy life or the real world living doesn't allow for the texture and color and meaning to be. my responsiblilities somehow harm my time with god, or my time with god is disrupted by thinking of what needs to be done. what i yearn for isn't always what i need. what i desire may not be for this time. my excuses or guilt or view into the sadness of life can shadow the rest and prayer and joy. on and on they go.

the quote comes from "a good life: benedict's guide to everyday joy" by robert benson. even in the struggle, some guidance is most welcome. most welcome. a small book of hope.

reality tv

so do you imagine yourself on a reality tv show?
i love to watch them, or rather hate to be hooked and watching and watching like some crazed person (though the past few months insanity i've hardly watched tv). today amanda tells me all about surreal world on mtv and now i want mtv to see it.

but, what about ME on a reality tv show? not in my forward thinking plans, not on the goal list, not on the "what i hope to accomplish before death." and yet, in my inbox is an email from a tv producer with a phone number and two email addresses and asking, "am i interested?" now, of course, they may not be interested in me. there's a lot to consider, a lot of things to look at for them, but still i have to ask on my side too. am i interested? how can i not be? how can i? oh my gosh, the fool i could be exposed as, and not just on local tv, not just on national tv, but on us and english tv!

this wasn't in my book marketing plan. this could be trouble.
but....

just months ago the hallmark channel considered my latest novel, "the salt garden." cool to be considered, kind of prodded me on in a difficult time even though they decided to pass. but that and this are very different. very different.

guess we'll see where this goes. advice, i need advice!
more to come....

random as the name implies

so my neighbor said yesterday, "i've decided i'm not going to have any more bad days. it's good days from now on." he just decided it. hey, isn't it mostly attitude? i liked that.

i'm reading another great robert benson book, "a good life: benedicts guide to everyday joy." it talks of balancing life -- prayer, work, community, and rest. i need this book. i need this balance. for about two years now, i've been saying how i need to make some major changes. i want good days, life as prayer, to swim more, and to keep the inner peace i've been feeling so strongly lately (god with his grace and love so close) even though it's been incredibly hectic.

"who yearns for good days?" that's not the right quote from the book, but i don't have the book here. but the question is the same. and i want good days, meaningful days that add up to a good, meaningful life. a "well-done" life. so maybe this book will offer a little direction. robert benson doesn't know me, though i did get to shake his hand in atlanta and get a signed copy of the book, but his words and journey sure never fail to speak to me.

my seven-year-old cried for a half hour last night because he wanted to move back into the old house. he feels bad for leaving the old for the new as if we've abandoned something. i love him so.

"who yearn for good days?" i'll get the exact quote, but i still wanted to ask. and what will it take to have it?

to brady

tomorrow is the 4th of july. for my family, it's the day to remember my nephew passing from this life to the next.

brady shawn harman lived three months.

sometimes short snippets of time with people change us in the most profound ways. they move us, shape us, help us reach beyond the moment and our own narrow view.

my son and my sister's brady were born two weeks apart. we were excited about having babies so close together, wondered what they'd be, anticipated them starting kindergarten together in mrs. kostelec's class. oh, the plans we make. the days we believe to be ours.

brady was older and smaller and didn't have the health to live upon this earth. and yet, he was loved so richly and he gave back so deeply with his smile and little grip around our fingers and a depth in his eyes that seemed beyond this place.

how can seven years have passed now? it seems impossible. born on easter sunday and died on independence day.

we miss you, brady. we will see you soon.

SWM seeks

so i've lived with my impatience. conquered, or so i've told god and insisted he need not test me any longer as i'm as patient as i need to be. ah, but my patience or impatience will be tested again and again and again -- this my writer friends is what awaits each of us. months and years and decades of waiting. but we must persevere, the alternative is to not be a writer.

i'm again at larger waiting stage. who wants a novel? anyone, anyone? well not just anyone? what if no one? am i doomed toward future publication? and all that guidance that seemed straight from god while in atlanta feels a little hazy now.

SWM (single written manuscript) seeks good publisher who enjoys long walks on the beach, has likeminded vision and immediate love-at-first-read for a long-term commitment (maybe tens of thousands of sales, please, pretty please, it's a writers unfortunate reality -- yes, sales are very important even for those of us who wish to only be lost in the words and myth).

tested impatience brings out my oddities. i have plenty to do, to write, to pursue. and for over two years, i've been seeking to change my life. i need more peace. but how?

ah, one treasure of my recent cba convention...robert benson's new book, A Good Life: Benedict's Guide to Everyday Joy. focuses on our lives as a balance of prayer, community, work and rest. i need this book, can't wait to crack it's pages and hope in my soul for some guidance. here's the study guide: