Tag Archives: Writing Exercises

A Morning in My Life

Light Hearted Living..., , ,

…By Shamu

I uncurl from my sleep and stretch, allowing my front paws to touch your arm. You’re still sound asleep and I’m hungry. I knead on your arm, but you just roll away. That will never do. I stretch a few more times and jump to my feet and come up by your face. I butt my head against yours. With groggy eyes you glance at me and rub my ears. Still you don’t arise. I decide you must be told what to do, so I start to talk to you.

“Oh, Shamu, why do you insist on such early mornings? Okay. I’ll get up.”

You slowly grab your robe to head downstairs. I’m way ahead of you, talking all the way. You set out fresh food for me then fix your coffee. I pick at my food, then saunter around the kitchen looking out the patio door. I know you’ll never let me outside. How I would like to get out, but only if you’ll come with me. 

Waiting for you
…by Felicia Marie

I stretch out on the couch and watch you until you come and also sit on the couch. I roll over and approach to sit on your lap. You know I want to be close to you, but you never sit still for very long. 

Your daughter arrives, and I approach her. She will pick me up and cuddle with me. I purr and butt my head against her. She’s grand and I love her, but you are still my preference. 

In Charge
….by Felicia Marie

My House…

Pandemic, ,

…sits high above the road, with peaked ceilings and lots of windows that allow the sky to enter and be part of my daily life. That could mean blue skies with white clouds, or grey skies with dark angry clouds waiting to dump something on me. Some days it simply means living in a cloud with the ability to see very little. Cloudless nights are the best when the stars are sparkling against the navy background, appearing so close I think I can reach out to grab a couple just for me.

Watching the clouds race across the sky
Evening Colors filling the sky

My house has been filled with unique aromas the last two weeks as I’ve allowed my creative side freedom to explore recipes from a Turkish cookbook a friend gave me before departing this valley I now call home. Distinct aromas and unique flavors from combinations of spices I’ve rarely used before. I never knew how much dill changes the flavor of beef; or tomatoes when skinned and deseeded, cooked with stock have a less acidic taste. These flavors are different and fun from how I normally cook—not strong or spicy hot, just different. We’ve found the food to be hearty and very filling. The cooking has been an adventure, but also exhausting. Most of the meals are labor intensive in their preparation. I now understand why the dishes are most often undertaken for company as a way to honor someone with a meal. So I can say, I’ve been honoring my husband, honoring us, honoring that we have each other to share this time with. I may have one more Turkish meal in me for this season, afterwards the book will go back on the shelf and I’ll return to meals and culinary delights we’ve enjoyed at different times or try something completely different.

I walk the switch back driveway down to the mailbox and last year’s dead grasses and the sage brush are still moist from last night’s snow. The fragrance of sage hits me and reminds me of first moving here eight years ago and the wonder I experienced the first time I opened the door and smelled sage. I was so surprised and then surprised I hadn’t expected this. Our property sits on hundred-year-old sage plants. How could I expect to be surrounded by this plant and yet not smell it? The pleasure of the aroma and memories of that naivety always bring a smile to face and are part of what makes me feel safe to be at home.

I savor the simple pleasures. It’s a way to keep the pandemic at arm’s length from me. To date, we personally know of no one who’s succumbed to the virus. A piece of me wonders how long that will be my truth, and I push those thoughts away. I’m aware each of us, collectively everyone, is being touched by this pandemic and the impacts will be long and far reaching. I push away the thoughts about how long it will be before we return to our normal activities.

I push away…

During this time of “Sheltering In-Place,” I’m part of a writing group. The group is writing about this time, fears, feelings, concerns. Different prompts and readings are used to generate inspiration. Sometimes I’m surprised at what surfaces. None of us in the group have experienced a time such as this. I’ll be sharing some of my writings generated from the group. You'll find them under the menu option, Writing Categories and then Pandemic. Feel free to leave your comments or write you own thoughts.

Day Dreams

Things to ponder...., , , , , ,
The local writers group assigned the topic of “Day Dreams.”
This piece came from that assignment.

 

As a little girl, with bubble wand in my hand, I twirl.

The bubbles, like my day dreams unknown to me, rise in the sky.

My only fascination lay with watching the bubbles rise and marveling how high they went before they burst.

I shared this activity with my daughters and grand-daughters. To this day, I stop and smile when I witness a child partaking in this delight.

Only later did I realize my day dreams rode on those bubbles. How many dreams did I let escape? Did they really escape, or simply hitch a ride on a star?

As an adult, the night sky and its stars captivated me. I love how the night lights sparkle and shine against the dark velvet.

Mt Sopris
Drifting Clouds

I moved west and in the high, dry mountain air found the stars more numerous than previously imagined. And they appeared much closer. In fact, close enough to reach out and grab. I began to see the connection between bubbles, stars and my day dreams.

Now I envision my day dreams found protection in the stars until such time as I could gather them back to myself. In the safety of maturity and greater self-awareness, I’m learning which dreams to toss back to the stars for another time or person to claim. With fresh eyes and new appreciation, I’ve reclaimed some of those day dreams. As they unfold and develop, I change and grow.

Now I recognize that day dreams and dreaming keeps one alive and vibrant.

My advice to you: Hang onto your dreams!

 

Do you still dream?

Are you finding any of your old dreams returning to you?

How words land on a page…

Things to ponder...., Writing Projects, , , ,

Writing, writing, writing is what writers do. Or is it? Though that sounds natural to folks who don’t know writers, most writers know how many times it is just not that simple.

One of my pastimes for the days when words don’t flow is to review writing prompts. During a light-hearted don’t want to the world to take me too seriously mood I came across the following prompt:

One Day you come into work and find a cookie mysteriously placed on your desk. Grateful to whoever left this anonymous cookie, you eat it. The next morning you come in and find another cookie. This continues for months until one Day a different object is left—and this time there’s a note.

Something about this prompt spoke to me. Words sprang into my mind fast than my fingers could put them on the page. That day a story was born. Many changes and iterations later, the story is different.

Excuse me! This is my seat!

Things to ponder...., , , ,

This last weekend I attended a Heroine’s Journey writing program. The program is designed for women, to help them identify where they have come from, what they have overcome and who they have become. All the while you accomplish this, you learn skills to improve your writing. It was an amazing, intense and crazy wonderful weekend.

The following is one of the writing prompts used during the weekend. Some of you may already recognize me in some of these chairs and some of you may learn new things about me.

Thank you to all the beautiful ladies who made the weekend so special! You know who you are….

Excuse me!  This is my seat.

Excuse me! This is my seat. This seat is reserved for one who has endured hardship inflicted by others and recognized that to stop the abuse, you have to take the control away from the other person. Sometimes that is accomplished by putting space between you and the other person and sometimes it is accomplished when you recognize you only THOUGHT they had control. This person has learned forgiveness, both for themselves and for others.

Excuse me! This is my seat. This seat is for one who has learned you must determine for yourself the things that are important in your life and live for those things. Not to spend your life just collecting things others say are important. This seat is for someone who sees the beauty of the world around them without thinking they have to own it.

Excuse me! This is my seat. This seat is for one who has struggled against the control of others trying to hold them down and recognizes that only happens if you allow it. This seat is for one who has learned that sometimes you have to shut a door to find freedom, and remembers God never closes a door without opening a window.

Excuse me! I believe this is my seat. This seat is for one who has worked for another. Has spent much time and effort developing and creating things for another’s benefit. This person has learned to work with different people in different situations to accomplish the goal or task at hand.  This person has learned to plan, both for the benefit of their employer and for themselves. This person can also determine what is important to self.

Excuse me! This is my seat. This is for one who has been given the gift of love and recognizes it is not something that just comes along any day. This person has learned to cherish the gift, accept the freedom and responsibility that comes with receiving and giving this type of love.

Excuse me! I believe this is my seat.  This seat is for one who has learned to treat herself with gentleness and forgiveness. One who accepts her weaknesses and knows her strengths. One who knows what things will bring healing to her soul and who wants to help others find that healing also.

Excuse me! This is my seat. I am a woman. That does not mean I know everything, it means I’m okay with me.

Breaking Up With Writers Block…..

Light Hearted Living..., , , ,

Note:  I have recently turned to some writing prompts to get back to the practice of writing regularly. You may or may not find this humorous. Please feel free to share your comments. A recent prompt was 

It’s time for you and Writer’s Block to part ways. Write a letter breaking up with Writer’s Block, starting out with,

Dear Writer’s Block, it’s not you, it’s me …

It is time for me to be honest with you. I don’t like myself when we are hanging around together. Liking ones self is essential to personal satisfaction and happiness. When I’m around you, I don’t accomplish anything. There are so many things in my head I want to get down on paper, or things I’ve started knowing I need to revisit and refine. I find myself thinking, “I can’t!” instead of thinking “I can!” You make it too easy for me to settle for thinking “someday I’ll get back to my writing”. I’m a happier and more fulfilled person when I think, “I can!” We just aren’t compatible. I have taken the liberty of packing your stuff and have even booked a hotel for you in town. With your personality and way with people, I’m sure you won’t have a problem finding someone else to hang around with. If you find yourself bored in town or with no companionship, hop on the train. Enjoy the scenery and the ride. I’m sure things will work out for you. Best of luck to you. I’ve got things to do.

Bye…..