Loving One Another

Posts tagged ‘writing’

Trap Time in a Tale


Welcome back to the A-Z series
devoted to ideas for
Adding Meaning
and
Finding Greater Purpose
in Life

Today’s Letter is “T”

Trap Time in a Tale

 

woman reading a book

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

Trap Time in a Tale

It’s not a tall tale! It’s not a fish tale or a fairy tale.
It’s YOUR tale!

In These Days, Daily Devotions for Living by Faith, today’s devotional said,

“Sometimes in order to thrive,
we need stories more than we need food!”

I thought about calling this blog post “Thrive by Telling Tales,” because I think it’s true: some days we DO need stories more than food!

Some days I thrive on writing (and coffee), do you relate? Writing gives my life meaning and purpose.

I CAN Trap Time in a Tale.

You can, too. You probably do – every time you sit down to write!

Do your tales help add meaning and purpose to your life?

people coffee meeting team

Photo by Startup Stock Photos on Pexels.com

I decided against,”Thrive by Telling Tales,”
when I thought of the Jim Croce song,
Time in a Bottle.” Do you know it?

“If I could save time in a bottle,
The first thing that I’d like to do,
Is to save every day
’til eternity passes away
To spend them with you.”

We may not be able to save time in a bottle, but we can Trap Time in a Tale!

The devotional I referred to in These Days is titled, Remembering Your Story. The author, Jan McGilliard wrote, “Stories can greatly expand our understanding of God, others, and ourselves… No matter your age or stage in life, remembering your own story is sacred work.”

Memoir or Autobiographical Tales

Each of us has a story to tell. It is sacred work! When we write our own stories, sometimes they are called autobiographies. They are focused on us, as the writer, the tale teller. Sometimes they are called Memoirs. What’s the difference?

LifeRich Publishing on the web says,

“The fine line between memoir and autobiography is a fuzzy one, especially in this modern literary era where writers are constantly blurring the boundaries between genres to create a new, exciting one. Like an autobiography, a memoir is a narrative that reveals experiences within the author’s lifetime. But there are obvious and practical differences between the two genres.

In essence, an autobiography is a chronological telling of one’s experience, which should include phases such as childhood and adolescence, adulthood, etc., while a memoir provides a much more specific timeline and a much more intimate relationship between the writer’s own memories, feelings, and emotions.”

Among other distinctions, LifeRich Publishing pointed out
Memoirs are:

  • less formal
  • more concerned with emotional truth toward a particular section of one’s life and how it makes one feel now
  • less obsessed with actual events

while Autobiography is essentially:

  • written by the main character (or at least drafted with a collaborative writer)
  • made up of detailed chronology, events, places, movements, reactions, and any other relevant information that inhabited the life of the subject
  • focused on facts – fact, above all, is its foundation

Memoir Writing

Gore Vidal gave his own distiction when he wrote his memoir, Palimpsest.

He said, “…a memoir is how one remembers one’s own life, while an autobiography is a history, requiring research, dates, facts, double-checking.”

I have written a memoir. It’s titled, “All My Marbles.” It is definitely less formal. It is concerned with emotional truth from my emotional perspective. It reflects how I feel now about my life’s people, events, and places – as well as how I feel about myself. It does capture Time in a Tale.

I don’t know if I will publish it in my lifetime or not. I finished it about three years ago. There are chapters about my grandparents and Bob’s. About my parents and his. About our marriage and children. And (to focus on its essential purpose) there is a chapter about and for each of my seven grandchildren. I want them to understand their Grammy better – – – know where I came from – – – and see how I responded/felt about each of them when they were born and as they grew into and through their teen years. They are now 23 to 28 years of age. Two have children of their own. One is about to have a second child, and one is about to get married.

Time in a bottle? No, time rushes on. But I trapped a period of it in my tale! It sings to me.

beach bottle cold daylight

Photo by Snapwire on Pexels.com

“All My Marbles” sits here in my computer.
I have it saved to the cloud
in case my computer crashes.

All My Marbles

Because I love my JanBeek readers, and I respect your opinions and enjoy reading your posts, I want to share the foreword, the introduction to “All My Marbles” with you. Tell me what you think.

I’ll be 80 this July. My prayer is that for another decade (at least) I can keep all my marbles in place, and working. But, if not… I have Trapped Time in this Tale.

Here is the Introduction to “All My Marbles”

I want you to know that I am a rather strong-willed, sometimes too outspoken, retired career woman who intends to live to be ninety-plus with all my marbles in place. Right up to the last, I want to smell good and wear dangling earrings that match my outfit for the day. I hope my children will get the message that there’s no need to get twitter-pated about getting older. As long as you keep your eyes on the NOW, your sense of humor tuned, and allow your style to be uniquely YOU, it’s likely that (unlike my cantankerous mother), you will wear your shirt right-side-out and still “give a shit” at 89!

My mother was a real spitfire! I knew she was not long for this world when she headed out one afternoon to a doctor’s appointment with her blouse inside out. When I brought it to her attention, she barked, “Oh, who gives a shit?” See, that’s where that quote originated, and sure enough, it was one of her last appointments before she departed our company.

Mom wasn’t always so contrary. Back in the early sixties, I got my first job in the states as a result of my hometown superintendent’s interview with my mom. I was in Germany teaching first graders on an army base. He liked what Mom said about me, so he agreed to hire me sight unseen. Before school started, I returned to California and popped in to visit the superintendent.

“Why do you want to work?” he asked. “Why don’t you just stay home and take care of your husband and start your family?”

Even though it was not illegal in 1962 to make that rash assumption and ask such questions, I realized his inquiry was sexist and inappropriate.

“Why should I choose when I am able to do both?” I answered his question with a question of my own.

More than five decades later, I still am averse to making either/or choices. My two children assure me they never felt neglected even though they had a working mother. I loved them, scolded them, laughed with them, played with them, read to them, and spanked them when they needed it. Spare the rod and spoil the child. I believe that! I did the SuperMom/MasterWife stuff while volunteering at Sunday School, teaching primary children, getting my master’s degree, earning an administrative credential, being a principal at a year-round school, and supervising student teachers at the college level.  Why do only one thing when you can do six? I was part of the generation of women who knocked loudly at the glass ceiling.

Now, in my senior years, I know it’s important to keep my mind active. “No day is complete,” my mother-in-law always said, “unless you have learned something new.”

On this bumpy road of life, I am learning something new every day. Certainly it is not a smooth ride on a gravy train. You need to keep a sharp eye on the muck ahead, remember to glimpse lovingly at those around you, and listen for that still small Voice to guide you. Life is a constant learning adventure.  All your marbles must be shined and put in place to survive and thrive. The bottom line is love. If it’s not unconditional, all hell breaks loose.

Let me introduce you to my family members and share some of my favorite life lessons with you.

 

So, my blogging friends, what do you think?
Does the introduction invite you to the memoir
in a way that would cause others to be interested?
Or should I just self-publish ten copies
(one for each of my children,
one for myself,
and one for each grandchild)

… and call it a day?

See you tomorrow.

Meaningful Memories


Welcome to Day #13
of my A-Z series,

How to
Add Greater Meaning
and Find More Purpose
in Life

Today’s letter is “M”
The topic: Meaningful Memories


My Memories Haiku

All have memories
Some more vivid than others
We’d like some to fade

person uses pen on book

Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com

But, not really…
Even painful memories serve a purpose.
As we reflect on them years later, we uncover truths –
Truths about ourselves we may not have realized at the time.
That’s what makes them meaningful!

As a writer who loves to write poetry, and someone who is exploring the significance of memories for adding meaning to our lives, I was fascinated by this

Interview with Poet kjmunro

by Frank J. Tassone

Question #3 was, “Is there anything you dislike about being a poet?”

Poet Kjmunro responded, “Sometimes I wish that I could be more comfortable in a crowd – but that may have more to do with being an introvert than being a poet. Writing poetry helps me to make sense of my life & my experiences, & because of it I have pushed my boundaries, accepted challenges, & pursued opportunities that have enriched my life… I can’t imagine my life without it.”

(You can click on the interview title above and see more of this meaningful post.)

woman holding blue shakspere book over face

Photo by JJ Jordan on Pexels.com

 

Likewise, I cannot imagine my life without the gift of writing – both poetry and prose. I enjoy writing poetry. I love reading it. I treasure the opportunity to share it.  Writing is a way to keep memories alive. It is a way to make sense of my life and my experiences. It is a way to express gratitude, to plan ahead, and to reflect. It is a way to push boundaries and accept challenges.

Yesterday in our Writers’ Group, the writing prompt was, “Tell Us About Someone You Used to Love.” The prompt brought to mind some very vivid, meaningful memories. Let me share my story with you:

Someone I Used to Love

I need to get up and face the student body on this October Spring Rally Day. But, I don’t want to.

I have made it as far as the front steps of the historic, brick Turlock Union High School before sitting down and letting the tears fall.

The sun is bright. Because it’s school spirit day, I have on one blue and one gold sock. My black and white saddle shoes are tucked beneath my poodle skirt with layers of crinoline fluffing around me. The blue and gold pom-poms lie motionless beside me. I look for the usual friends. No one approaches. They must all be inside already. Loneliness rings as the bell sounds the warning: first period will begin in ten minutes

What is it that has created such reluctance and dread in my soul?

About a week ago, my tall, athletic ex-boyfriend approached me in the hallway. “You know you don’t have any friends. The only reason people say Hi to you is because you say Hi to them first. If you didn’t, no one would talk to you.”

Oh my! Could it be true? Why was Richard telling me this? I used to love him. We used to have great fun together. Mutt and Jeff, they called us. Just because I broke up with him and am now dating soeone my own size, does that mean this 6’4″ basketball star should suddenly start bullying me?

Back in the 50’s I don’t think I knew the term “bullying.” I didn’t realize that’s what Richard was doing. His words cut deeply.

I decided to test out his hypothesis. I stopped cheerfully greeting everyone I saw with a “Hi!” Instead, I looked at them, waiting to hear their greeting first.

Richard was right! Most kids just looked quizically in my direction and walked past – or worse yet – they didn’t look at me at all. I felt like I must have forgotten my deodorant that day!

Now I’m feeling alone and abandoned on the front steps. I have ten minutes to get to class. With a deep sigh, I get up, take a deep breath, pick up my pom-poms, and head inside. My buddy, Phil, voted “Best Dressed Guy” in the senior class, walked up to me when I entered the building. I glance in his direction.

“What’s wrong with you lately?” he asked. “You’re being so stuck up!”

I told him what Richard had said.

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud,” he reprimanded, taking me by the shoulders.

I looked up into his caring blue eyes with tears in mine. “But Richard…” I sobbed, “he said…” I couldn’t go on.

Phil wrapped me tightly in his arms right there in the middle of Turlock High’s crowded hallway. Backing up a bit, he put his hands on my shoulders again. He leaned down and whispered, “He’s just jealous – and hurt. A big basketball star can’t stand it that his girl left him for a 5’3″ Stumper. He’s just trying to hurt you back. You just be the girl you always were. Don’t let anyone take away your perkiness.”

I used to love Richard. Now I just feel sorry for him. I saw him coming toward me as I headed for class.

“Hi!” I perked in his direction and walked on – shoulders squared – head held high.

***

Reliving these vivid memories more than sixty years later, I realize how impactful Richard’s words and Phil’s encouragement were. It was an important growing up experience. I haven’t let anyone take away my perkiness since then.

Meaningful memories stay with us – and change us – forever.
Thank you, Phil, and Richard!

***

Do you have a meaningful memory?
One that helps you make sense of your life and experiences?

Love, Light, Listening, Laughter


Welcome to Day #12,
the “L” Day
on the A-Z series,

Add Greater Meaning
and
Purpose to

Life

Ya Gotta Love Life

silhouette of people jumping

Photo by vjapratama on Pexels.com


Life is Light
and
Light is Life

pexels-photo-301599

Without Light, we’d all die

grayscale photography of human skull

Photo by ahmed adly on Pexels.com


Laughter adds Light to Life
It makes Life Lighter
Ya Gotta Listen for and Join the Laughter

IMG_5732

Need a little laughter today?
This one cracked me up!!

54799109_1211519559005835_8981993440300498944_n
I shared this one with my husband and got a chuckle outta him.
This could be my niece’s husband, Bill’s head:

58442118_1233559913468466_2871375805642964992_n

Maybe you’ll laugh out loud at this one:

56157323_1215950568562734_3340019311015100416_o.jpg

58717917_1234925809998543_6894752287789416448_n

Yes,
without Laughter, we might

be at a dead end!!

Love Life; Be the Light
Sparkle with Light and Laughter
Color my Purpose!

pexels-photo-977539.jpeg

Photo by Godisable Jacob on Pexels.com

People who sparkle with color that lights the path to my purpose are like angels.

Dr Jimmy Walters, a fellow blogger whom I admire and follow,
wrote about Michaelangelo yesterday in his blog.
He told in his article titled, Set Free Your Inner Angel,
how Michelangelo, the famous Renaissance artist,
approached sculpting as a process to “set free” angels.
Dr. Walters said, “He would pick the right block of rigid stone,
and through a discovery process,
chip away until he set the angel,
or statue, free.”
He went on to say,
“You are called to be the hero of your own life,
and as a result, a hero for others.
The road to the light begins with your dreams,
and accepting them as a mandate.
At times, these dreams are finally welcomed by you
because of a crack to your armor.
At other times, dreams are pursued
because you are finally ready to be your true self.”

angel-bee friends

My friend, Art, who is in our Madison Valley Writers’ Group,
shared a beautiful essay on the subject of LIGHT today.
In my estimation, he is a man
who has pursued his dreams and has set his true self free.
As I listened to Art, one sentence that brought
a beautiful image to mind was:
“I write with the fervor of a bee born to die.”

I write with that fervor, too. Do you?

purple flowers in bloom

My husband, Bob, is a retired beekeeper.
Today he is helping to install bees in a new observation hive
at our school here in Ennis, Montana.
He continues to find purpose in life by
teaching people of all ages
about the life of  honeybees.
Like all of us, bees are born to die.

Honeybees sting to protect themselves,
their queen or their hives.
Drones (male bees) have no stinger.
But, the female worker bees, do, of course!
If she stings you,
she dies.

Living to love, listening for/sharing laughter,
and learning to “Bee the Light,”
gives my life purpose.
What are you willing to die for?


Listen
for the ideas you love,
and let them add meaning to your life.

Will you share one of those ideas with me?

 

Tell The Story Challenge


‬‬

Renee/Heart Tokens  was nominated by Amy for the “Tell the Story Challenge” created by The Eclectic Contrarian

There were 2 pics she gave, and Renee chose the one that spoke to her the most.

Then Renee posted two pictures and invited her readers to join the challenge.

I decided this sounds like fun… and so I am joining in.

Here are the Rules:

Pick one of the images given to you, write whatever comes to you. Short, long, funny, sad … a tribute to someone, a poem, a song. Then choose two or three images and some nominees and keep the ball rolling.

 This is the image I chose – and I selected Haiku as my genre:

God’s Gift

 

Going to war is hell
Only music can save us
God seemed to know that

 

Here are the three images I choose for your selections:
alcohol blur bright burnt
watercolor bird
man with braided hair

Photo by VINICIUS COSTA on Pexels.com

And here are my nominees:
5. Anyone of you – my Ideal Readers – who wants to join in. Do!!
Sorry, I can’t seem to erase these items that were transferred from Renee’s original post: Renee/Heart Tokens  … so just ignore this bottom part! But, do click on Renee’s title in red here and see the picture and story she posted.

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Beautiful People


Beautiful People

 

Beautiful people
From a Grateful Heart

Today I am reflecting on the beautiful people in my life. I am thanking God for those loving, sincere, caring, sharing people He has put into my path. I could fill this page with their names and pictures! But, I won’t.

I will put their faces up to God and ask Him to BEE with each one of them. Give them health and strength and guard their paths. He knows each of their needs better than I do!

Your Beautiful Friends

Who are those beautiful people God has put into your life? Take a minute to bring each of their faces up to the Lord, and thank Him. What a gift they are!

Your Presence in my On-line Life

I do not take for granted YOU… You beautiful people who take the time to read and to respond to my daily on-line life. I’m on the 182nd consecutive day of making this place a part of my daily routine. I like starting my morning with an inspirational thought that I can share with you.

Although I am not “all about numbers” – and the stats are not what guide me, I am grateful for each of the 450+ people who pressed “Follow” on JanBeek – and especially for those of you who take time to leave a comment. It helps me know I am not just blowin’ in the wind!

block blow blur child

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Visiting and Being Inspired by Others

I enjoy seeing what you have created, too. Some of us do not have the kind of blog that will attract thousands (what would we do to monitor that anyway?), but we know the folks who do visit us regularly are people who care. You are like-minded people who also have “Inspire Others to Live a Better, more Loving Life” as one of your goals.

You do inspire me to keep sharing sincere love, to keep on caring, and to keep on encouraging. You are a blessing!

Thank you!

Garnering Gratitude


Have you tried your hand at 
Haiku/Senryu Poetry?

This post on Facebook inspired me
to try my hand at Senryu
using the human emotion of gratitude.

Thank God

Great God Gives Gladness
Gracious Goodness-Giving God
Garners Gratitude

Haiku/Senryu Poetry 

Every word in the Haiku must begin with the same letter.

When written in English, it generally follows the syllabic pattern 5-7-5

Haiku/Senryu Poem (also called Human Haiku) is an unrhymed Japanese verse usually written in the present tense and only references to some aspect of human nature or emotions. Senyrus possess no references to the natural world and thus stand out from nature/seasonal Haiku.

(Published with gratitude for the magic of 11:11 am on the 11th of this marvelous month)

 

Try it, my friends.
Share yours with me!

The Forgiving Father


Happy Sunday, my friends. Did you attend church today?

We did – and I took my usual sermon notes in poetry.
And we sang a great version of the scripture lesson.
I share it with you below.

classic close up draw expensive

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

The scripture the sermon was based on was Luke 15:1-32.

It is a familiar passage for most Christians.
It includes the parables of three things LOST: a Sheep, a Coin, and a Son.

The song we sang  after the sermon was a beautiful poetic summary of the scripture.
The words, written in 1999 by Carolyn Winfrey Gillette are so “right on!”
I HAVE to share them with you.
.
As you read these lyrics, try singing them to the tune of “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” It’s magical! It’s gorgeous!!

.
God’s Great Love is So Amazing

 

Verse 1

God’s great love is so amazing!
See a shepherd with his flocks!
Ninety-nine are safely grazing;
One is lost among the rocks.

That good shepherd goes and searches
Till he finds the one astray.
So God says to fill our churches
With the ones who’ve lost their way.

Verse 2

God in love is always seeking!
See a woman with her broom!
For a single coin she’s sweeping
Every corner of the room.

When it’s found she calls each neighbor,
Telling friends from all around.
So God says to search and labor
Till God’s precious ones are found.

Verse 3

God keeps waiting, searching, yearning!
See a father’s heartfelt joy!
Thankful for the son’s returning.
He runs out to greet his boy.

To the angry older brother,
Hear the father’s patient call.
So God says to love each other,
For in Christ, God loves us all.

man holding boy

 

My sermon notes are not as professional as the poem above.
They lack the a-b-a-b rhyme scheme.
Mine is based on an a-b-c-b scheme.
You probably can’t sing them to a chosen tune.
But they capture the message I heard being preached.
See if you can relate to how our pastor took this scripture
and spun it into a lesson for us all.

The Forgiving Father

Sermon notes 3/31/19
Jan Beekman’s “take-away” on
Rev. Jean Johnson’s message
Madison Valley Presbyterian Church
Ennis, Montana

 

Leave ninety-nine vulnerable
For the sake of finding one?
The Lost Sheep story tells us
That’s exactly what Jesus woulda done.

 

Leave a pocketful of change
For the one coin lost?
Yes, that’s what Jesus said.
Look carefully at the cost!

 

The cost of losing valued
Possessions can be very high.
We leave behind the flock
And fly off to pie in the sky!

 

Open your eyes to the One
Who is right in your midst.
The Shepherd among us
Seeks the lost. He insists.

 

The least among us are
Lost until they’re found.
We’re to be the seekers
Who search, listening for the sound.

 

Listen for the lost sheep’s plea,
And know, in fact, we are they.
We all need to be rescued
From the flighty life we live today.

 

Jesus really spoke not of
Coins and sheep, but us.
We are the ones who need
To be found. We must!

 

We must seek and be found
By Christ who loved us first.
Let’s join His rescued sheep
And rejoice as He quenches our thirst.

 

Christ shows us God’s real joy
With the parable of father and son.
The wayward boy returned home.
He was lost, now found. Victory won!

Welcome Home!
Come join the party.

Amen?

Tell me about the message at your church or temple or synagogue today.
What was your take-away?

 

 

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