 I love the mountains. Seriously, I looooove the mountains. I also dream of rural-living. But we live in Suburbia. In the peace and quiet of mid-morning... I have to stop here to note that it was mid-morning and still peaceful and quiet -- I enjoyed a wonderful walk. It was really a small challenge to myself, a walk/run, and my first since I had Covid about three weeks ago. There were some people about -- exercising, walking dogs, and a few landscapers getting ready to work -- but it was surprisingly placid. I was able to think, pray, ponder. We live in a neighborhood where others of our family reside. For most of our life together, my husband, children, and I have lived in the same city as our relatives, but the Houston area is gigantic. In the past several years, we've all lived much closer than before, just minutes away from each other. It makes life wonderfully fun and pleasant. I can be an ungrateful brat sometimes. And no, one is never too old. I've known a lot of immigrants in my lifetime. I grew up with them. More than twenty years ago, one of our family friends told me that it's not the place that counts, but the people. He was older, gruff, and not a man much given to sentiment. But he looked so sad when he gave that advice. I've never forgotten it and even incorporated it in one of my books. And of course he was right. Now... would I have appreciated my grandparents settling somewhere with gentler weather than southeast Texas? Yes! But it was here I met my husband and so many wonderful friends. It's where our family is. And our suburban community -- vast, yet supremely convenient and well-maintained. And I've made some very nice friends. And there are lots of green spaces. And I do have a garden. We all have our needs and preferences. Some people truly need quiet and wide-open spaces to feel free. I understand that. Every once in a while, that's me. Maybe you miss your family. Maybe you would love to have that option. You might be overwhelmed by your social calendar or you might be lonely -- or both. Maybe you're in the countryside yearning for the city or in the mountains yearning for the sea. Perhaps your heart is torn between two countries, new and old. And sometimes you just don't feel well or happy or grateful at all. That's okay -- for a short while. We can't always help how we feel, but wallowing won't get you very far. To be clear, I'm not talking about life-threatening challenges. I would not presume to preach. But in la vie quotidienne, the daily grind, it's good to look for the good. I hope I'm always grateful in my heart. I truly think I am. But today, I'm also grateful in my head. Thanks be to God. 
0 Comments
#theworldneedsmorepoetry  Welcome, Marcia. I’m so happy and excited that you agreed to this interview. Thank you for joining us and for sharing a couple of your beautiful poems, which follow this interview. You have given hope, love, and inspiration to so many online fans. Personally, I watch eagerly for your tweets. They almost always make me smile. For that, I offer still more thanks. I also happen to enjoy poetry and absolutely loved your book Whirlwind of Mosaic Pieces. I rarely read a book of poetry straight through from beginning to end. It seems somehow counter-intuitive to me. Is that strange? But that’s how I read your collection of poems. To be clear, each chapter can certainly be read on its own. Each poem inspires a reader to return to it as needed. But as a whole, the book flows seamlessly and with all the emotions. The poems grabbed me and wouldn't let go. Congratulations on a magnificent yet relatable work of art. Thank you, so much, for your beautiful introduction and heartfelt words. You can’t see me at this point, but I’m blushing… I’m honored that you’ve taken the time to support and share my work. I’m thrilled that Whirlwind of Mosaic Pieces was a collection that enthralled you enough that you wanted to read it “cover-to-cover”. That was one of my hopes in creating the collection: that it would be gripping enough for the reader — whether a true poetry fan or not — to find some merit, relevance, and relatability in it. Whirlwind… was always meant to tell an overall tale, but each poem, itself, was always designed to be its own self-contained story. I crafted it to be a collection for the casual browser, as well as, for the in-depth reader. So, again, it’s a true honor that it engaged you tremendously. It certainly did engage me. Even though, from having read your book, I feel I already know you, won’t you please tell us a little about yourself? I would describe myself as a “city girl with Southern charm”. I’m also an introvert who loves to people watch. I came from a background where one spoke to the neighbors and fellowshipped among the community. My “Good Morning” tweets are an homage to that spirit where one speaks to and greets the neighbors with a hearty, “hello”. Creatively, ever since I wrote my first poem at six, I’ve called myself a poet. At times, I believe I live and ruminate in my own head far too much. {LOL} I can spend hours reading a book, then spend days chatting about it. I’m a true film nerd and an immense music aficionado. I, also, classify myself as a hippie with a bohemian soul. I come from an artistic family, though none of them formally pursued this craft. Even though Whirlwind is my first collection of poems, I’ve been a story teller my entire life. And how about Jane? Jane is an amalgamation of many women—both real and imagined. She embodies all of the following traits: grit, steel, vulnerability, passion, innocence, survival, and naïveté that many women possess or are expected to possess in order to survive the day-to-day operations known as the cycle of life. She’s my family, my “sister-girl”, my “warrior princess”, my “hopeful romantic”, my “tender-hearted soul” and my “powerhouse”. She represents all of those women who’ve inspired, influenced, and shaped me. And, yes… She’s me, at times. Jane is that aspect of self that will continue to rise no matter how many times she’s been knocked down. Jane will continue to believe — no matter how many times she’s been given doubt. She will continue to pursue because there are still more days left on the calendar. Whirlwind... is so raw, so real, so beautiful. Will you share a little about your process in writing it? I never formally sat down to write Whirlwind of Mosaic Pieces. Busy with chores and life and other such matters, I always complained that I didn’t have time to sit down to WRITE-write. But, always there would be some social issue, or occurrence, or bout of inspiration that would pull me closer to my pen. The pen has always served as therapy for all that my soul wasn’t able to process. So, I started to write a screenplay, short story, or poem, here and there, and would place it in a large binder, which I always vowed to address later. Then a year passed. Then, two… Then, ten. Twenty-twenty hit us all like a Mack-truck and my soul was anxious and my mind was racing… Many seemed to reach for creativity. The online presence was bursting with artistic expression. I looked at the numerous, beautiful works and was inspired. Though a turbulent time, my artistic soul was eager and optimist, again… I was finally ready to share. Even through the more painful chapters or poems, I sense a deep hope in Jane, even if it's tinted in rebellion. Is that because I am aware of your inspiring online presence or because it’s something irrepressible in you, even in your darkest moments? Great observation! There is a sense of rebellion in Jane—even at times if it’s a quiet storm. I see her as a powerhouse who has used her voice and her silence as a survival tactic and a coping mechanism. Maybe it comes from the hardships she’s had to endure. Paraphrasing an old adage, diamonds only shine and are only strong due to the pressure exerted onto them. It was necessary for the painful moments to be explored and included because I always insisted that she be presented as a well-rounded “character”. In those moments when she was a “fool for love”, she still demonstrated her optimism in receiving love. In those moments when work-life stress seemed to want to break her spirit, she still demonstrated how she managed to thrive and survive. In those moments when she feels utterly alone, she is always reminded that in her silence she has the pen that can help tell her tale. And, I can relate to that because for me, in those dark moments, I am always reminded of the simple, but powerful words my grandmother and mother would state: “This too, shall pass…” I’m imagining there are so many more poems. Was it hard to decide what to cut and what to keep? Or am I mistaken? Organizing the poetry in the collection was the most fascinating process. As many writers probably do, I tend to write daily — even if it’s a couple of haikus — so I’ve accumulated hundreds of poems that have spanned many years: probably more, but I haven’t catalogued them all, yet. For this inaugural collection, however, I wanted to tell a specific story, or several stories within a story. So, I needed those poems that contained that certain “Jane voice”. I was conscious of which poems spoke of heart-break, or family turbulence, or work-woes, and I leaned into poems that had their own individual flare. I wanted the poems to visually differ as well as feel as if they embody a different tone. Sorrow is sorrow, but how one describes it can feel different. So, I strove to ensure that all poems that dealt with sorrow felt unique to that time, place [in her life] and circumstance. Some poems were eliminated because they didn’t adequately enhance the story, or didn’t match her point of view. This is a profound and yet personal body of work. Now that it’s out there, what would you hope readers gather/understand from it? That’s a great, but tough question. {LOL} As a writer, I always want readers to generate their own impressions of my work. Coming from a teaching background, I always wanted my students to feel a sense of connection and relevance to the work studied. As a writer, ultimately, I’d like for readers to appreciate Jane’s journey and to be able, no matter their individual circumstance, to relate, appreciate, and applaud the steps that she had to take to her happiness. Being a warrior doesn’t mean that you aren’t vulnerable and frightened. Being a leader doesn’t mean that sometimes you can't feel “led astray”. Being joyful doesn’t mean that you don’t, oftentimes, experience sad times. I’d like for readers to appreciate the beauty in her ordinary. Jane is vulnerable, and doubtful, and introspective. She was a survivor when she finally let go of certain toxic relationships. Sometimes, the fight is holding on; sometimes it’s in the letting go. Though Whirlwind of Mosaic Pieces is written from a specific point-of-view and Jane came from a specific social-economic life-style, her individual experience is reflective of many people who don’t have the courage to speak and share their experiences out loud, yet. Finally, I hope readers can appreciate the beauty in life’s journey—no matter the whirlwinds. And does that differ from your intention while writing it? Did your intentions change? My intention while writing is always to tell a *good* story. That’s subjective, I know. However, I write stories, poems, and screenplays that I’d want to see/read. My intention is for readers to appreciate the poetic art form, to see that poetry can be diverse, speak hard truths, be poignant, beautiful, and relatable. I always keep in the back of my mind students who brushed off poetry because they deemed it archaic and “out-of-touch”. Once they saw that poetry could take all forms and styles [including modern art forms such as spoken word and rap], many became hooked. In the back of my mind, I will consider marketability and audience, but my driving force is always to start with a great story, or in this case, series of poems. Do you have a favorite poem or chapter in the collection? Or would that be impossible? You’re correct: it is impossible. {Lol} They all tell a story of where I was at a certain point. So, my favorite poem from the collection tends to ebb and flow and vary depending on my mood. I do like the reaction I’ve gotten from certain poems, such as when I read “Dedication” to my parents. Of course, they are my backbone and have heard my poetry and other writings throughout my writing journey, but as they expressed it at the time: “that one struck differently”. Overall, the chapters “Healing”, “Overcoming”, and “Fulfillment” always get me emotional. Though the poems relating to my grandmother: “Buttered Biscuits and Syrup, Homemade” and “Sunset” always bring a tear to my eye. Now that Whirlwind of Mosaic Pieces is finished, do you feel your writing process has changed or will do so? Once I got the first book off my chest, mine did. No, I don’t think my writing process, overall, will change. I think I’ll always write for myself as I’ll always see myself as the first audience. If I don’t like a scene, poem, etc., I pivot quickly, edit and start anew. I’m not a speedy author, but a daily writer. So, my work may take longer to release. However, I’m happy with that. I think what worked well with this collection is that, at first, I wasn’t under some strict timeline and I allowed my Muses {Yes, I really do believe in them. LOL} to determine when the best time was to write. I never force myself with a wagging, as if chastising finger: “You must write a sad scene today”. {LOL} So, what that day inspires is the story {or poem} that gets told. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I consider the marketability and the difference between the general audience and the specific one, but I think, as I’ve mentioned before, for me, telling a sound story is my primary goal. Have you consciously moved on to the next project? If so, care to share? We can keep a secret. Yes, and no… I’m always working on new material and have been working on revising a spec script and am also working on my first novel. Whirlwind…, and the story of Jane, however, continues to pull my attention and I’d like to create an audio version of the collection at some point. Any words of wisdom for a struggling creative? How about for poets in particular? I think my *advice* for artists would be to follow your passion and pursue your artistry with intense fervor. As much as you can, try to eliminate self-doubt and surround yourself with supportive individuals. Also, learn to pivot quickly. I’ve had many doors closed and many rejections and “no responses”, but that didn’t stop me from writing. Being a writer means writing. Will I publish all of my work? No. Sometimes, I write for myself; other times, it’s for others… Also, network. Other creatives are not your competition, but instead are your greatest ally. I ask questions and allow other poets/artists to serve as my mentor. For poets specifically: never be afraid to take chances, promote your work in unique spaces, and share your work any chance you get. Poetry is not a dying art form. Don’t be afraid to shine your light. Lastly, Marcia Lynn Paul, to you, what is poetry? For me, poetry is taking the ordinary and reformatting it to appear extraordinary. It’s finding a new way to see the known. It’s experiencing the universe through a child’s eyes. It can be rhythmic and bluesy, or poignant and morose. The art of poetry is, sometimes, translating a tome into a haiku. For many, it’s therapy; while for some, a great vehicle to express love or social reform, and finally for others simply a great way to describe a sunset. Finally, I’d like to take the time to thank my editor and advisor Patricia Brookins for her hard work and diligence as well as PJ Maxwell for his artistry and encouragement. Their assistance and support has been invaluable.   Marcia Lynn Paul has been writing poetry and other works since she was six. At nine, her first poem, Pacer Proud, won the state Peanut Butter Press Contest for her age group/division. Majoring in Slavic Languages & Literature and receiving her Master’s degree in Secondary Education, she spent over a decade teaching English, writing and Language Arts at the middle and high school levels. Currently, she’s working on several works, including a screenplay, a drama, and a romantic comedy. A selection of her poetry can be seen on her YouTube channel: Marcia Lynn Paul. Her spirit animal is the tortoise, her favorite weekday is Tuesday, and her favorite color is cobalt blue. She hopes to someday retire somewhere near the ocean and dreams of owning a “brick and mortar” bookstore. Whirlwind of Mosaic Pieces is her first collection of poems. https://twitter.com/MarciaLynnPaul1  Excerpts from Whirlwind of Mosaic Pieces GEPPETO’S POPPET Strings attached. Discombobulated mixture of who I am and who they expect me to be. Introverted wild child crafted and packaged to be somebody… But, wanting to be somebody… else. The strings tug too tight, too taut to just be a boy, a man, a woman — somebody other than the symbol of what you did right. The strings, attached, tug too taut, too tight to detach and take flight and be somebody other than what the blueprints in your mind said I was supposed to be. Papa’s dream; mama’s gleam… Poppet’s fantasies trapped in dreamland. Left hand this way; right hand that way. Everything crafted organized, planned. left hand this way; right hand that way, Puppeteers preparations always preplanned. Marionette Masterpiece-- discombobulated mixture of who I am and who they expect me to be. Left foot this way; right foot that way… Crafted and packaged to be somebody. But, wanting to be somebody who’s… real.  THE IRONY OF THIS POEM Poems, I think, should not solely live in books. On stuffy, dusty counters, or tucked away in some library nook. They should turn cartwheels with four year olds and sing sonnets with lovers, comfort those left behind when loved ones make their final journey, entice babies to sleep and cause the non-sentimental to weep ‘cause the words moved him and touched his spirit. They should keep time with the Double Dutch girls, help me make some sense of this world and give him an opening line to meet her. They shouldn’t be crowded between this page and that page, somewhere stuck between this story and that essay, as if uncertain like the middle child, Jan Brady. Poems should make noise about rainbows, comment, slyly, about love and woe and tell you how phenomenal your hips are. They should make you giggle at the absurd, make some sense of the unheard and marvel at the artistry of cartwheels. They should sing, happily, with songstresses and lament, tragically, with the blues. Rap about the nonsense and the necessary. Jive and rhyme with pastors and scoundrels: amuse, confuse, diffuse and enthuse… They should be chanted when Afro Puffs and Pigtails perform hand jives and hopscotch and inspire you, humbly, when love’s labor, you did botch. They should make the youth wise, the aged young, again, the middle-aged hipsters just happy to be there, while still conning sleepy infants, quietly, to sleep. Poems, I think, should not live in books with spines bound and elaborate dust covers. They should whirl and gust through sequoia trees, soar from flower to flower like honey bees, marvel at the wizardry of the Grand Canyon and amaze at the wonders of 1940’s Harlem, encourage three year olds to skip and jump, remind us, all, to be fierce, calm, vulnerable and strong and, finally, give him an opening line to meet her.  Available at Amazon.
 June
The sun is rich, And gladly pays In golden hours, Silver days, And long green weeks That never end. School’s out. The time Is ours to spend. The playground calls, The ice-cream man, And, after supper, Kick-the-can. The live-long light Is like a dream, And freckles come Like flies to cream. --John Updike (1932-2009) A Child’s Calendar  Well... certainly, there is no lack of tourist attractions, history, or beauty in France. It took us a long time to get to Paris. It took me a long time to get to the Loire Valley. I studied a lot about the chateaux in school and I've always been interested in seeing them, at least a few. Joseph, on the other hand, had never been particularly interested in Paris and had never given a thought to the castles. Our trip was really for me, sweet man. Today, I am thinking of Versailles. We had a fun and exhausting time there. One thing we did right -- we stayed a night in the area. We weren't rushed and yet, we were. I wanted to see EVERYTHING -- the palace, the gardens, the Trianon complex... Since we were right there in town, we had a full, long day at the palace. While "everything" was too tall an order, I saw what I most wanted to see and more than I knew to expect. I noticed something. Altogether, excluding the Louvre, we visited seven chateaux. Obviously, they each have their own personality and, for lack of a better word, aura. To me, Versailles felt haunting and not in a good way. It's opulent, magnificent, and we thoroughly enjoyed the grounds/gardens. But I felt a deep melancholy as well -- not within myself, but somehow, all around. It was probably due to my imagination. I couldn't keep thoughts of the French Revolution springing to mind. Yet France moved forward and the world went on. Still, for all its grandeur, Versailles was sad to me. It makes me think about our lives today. I hope we can leave some joyful echoes. As for the tourist experience of the palace, we found it vast but organized. There is plenty to do and see, indoors and out. We considered renting a kayak, but we opted for a golf cart instead, which proved an amusing hour. The grounds are extensive and the golf carts cannot go everywhere. But it was still fun. I would like to add a few words about the town. Versailles is an old and beautiful city. There are lots of restaurants, shops, and things to see and do. We stayed in an AirBnB, in a 250 year old house that had been lovingly renovated. Our host's family had been in Versailles for generations and it was obvious that he loves his city. He was quick to let us know that there is a lot to see besides the palace. We believed him. Maybe another time...  The earth laughs in flowers. Ralph Waldo Emerson Have you ever gone on a wildflower drive? A dear friend and I have done so every spring for years. We choose a route and start out early, spirits high, usually with some of her fabulous baked goods to go with our morning coffees. It's a rare and wonderful day of deliberate lollygagging. We stop in all of the quaint little towns and pull over to gawk at fields of wildflowers. We chat all the while, of course, catching up on each other's news, reminiscing, too. Lunch is always on the agenda, with optional stops for coffee, ice cream, whatever looks good in a given moment. A little shopping may or may not happen. New discoveries are always made. This year, we were served margaritas almost as big as our heads! Wow! It's a day of friendship and laughter and flowers -- a gift of a day.  We did not have bicycles growing up. i don't know why our parents were so afraid of them, but they were. I haven’t had many as an adult, either. It's not that I'm afraid. In fact, I love riding my bike. But I’m not very good at it, either. I have no sense of balance. Never have. I fall with surprising frequency. One of my favorite bike memories is from about a decade ago, when I was in my late forties (just to underscore that I was older and supposedly more dignified). I’ll always remember our elder son’s horrified expression as my shoelaces got tangled in my spokes and my bike and I fell sideways, pretty much in slow motion, pretty much in the middle of the road. I start laughing every time I think of it. It was a rural neighborhood, at least, and I only got a little scraped up. You can understand, then, that when I send my children photos to show that I am, indeed, doing more than gardening in the great outdoors, I gleefully refer to myself as “The Mad Rider”. Ever since my brother gifted me with a new bicycle my last birthday, I’ve been trying to ride more often in hopes of falling less. To that end, another favorite bike memory is our granddaughter giving me bike riding lessons earlier this year. Such a little sweetheart. This morning, since it was one of those winter days in southeast Texas that resembles an iconic spring day, I was eager to “take to the road”. My thoughts were on Wordsworth. I’ve been listening, on and off, to Jan Karon’s Mitford series – so beautiful – and Father Tim is always quoting that wonderful poet. I decided that I would read one of his poems at each stop. My bike rides are most definitely recreational and would count as exercise only in the broadest sense of the word. Considering my grace and skill (ahem), that is surely more than enough. I do it because I enjoy it. And I hope that you also do things you enjoy – for the sheer pleasure of doing them. Knowing that Nature never did betray
The heart that loved her; 'tis a privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy: for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgements, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor the greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith that all we behold Is full of blessings. --William Wordsworth -- from Lines Written a Few Miles Above Tineturn Abbey, On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye During a Tour , July 13, 1798  I’m trying something new this week. It seems a bit ridiculous to me as well as extreme, but if it works, I will love it. It is the second day that I’ve packed up my “stuff” and set up to write at the local library.
Home is just so cozy and delicious. Food and beverage, fireplace, books, garden, friends…not to mention countless, non-writing-related tasks to take care of. You know, like laundry. So yesterday, I stuffed my laptop, a spiral notebook, and my writing day planner into a tote. But I wanted both water and coffee. I couldn't put those with my laptop. Does the library even allow coffee? I decided it wasn’t an option. I put both the travel mug and travel cup into my purse, along with a small square of chocolate. I knew I’d get hungry, but I was already running late. I’ve not spent much time at this fairly new, extremely efficient neighborhood library. It’s about five minutes from our house in low traffic. I had to ask a few questions before finding the study area. It was SO QUIET! I might not speak loudly, but I am otherwise impressively noisy. Everything I did seemed to echo – unzipping my bag, setting my beverages on the table, arranging my laptop and its charger. I even peeked around wondering if a librarian would approach and ask me to please settle down. And the librarians! The ones in this little library are at least a couple decades younger than me. They patrol, put books away, and are frequently at their computers. What are they all doing, I wonder? Some research, sure, but what else? Hmm? It fascinates me. I’ve always thought I would enjoy being a librarian. Much as I love the outdoors, I find great libraries, churches, and museums restorative in a different sort of way. Of course, I felt hungry early on. I ate my one chocolate in the first hour, drank my coffee, sipped some water, and well, after all that, I had to take a little break. Once I was in front of my computer again, I put my head down and worked for almost three hours. Then a new noise disrupted the quiet. My stomach began growling. I tried to ignore it and worked for another 45 minutes. But I was distracted. My daughter-in-heart had given us some of her fabulous chicken tacos the night before and I knew there was still one waiting for me at home. On my way out of the library, I stopped by the front desk, interrupting the young librarian. “Can we…we’re not allowed to eat in here, are we?” What did I expect her to say? I knew the answer. She looked apologetic. “Not inside, but we have a little courtyard outside with seating.” Right. Today, I wanted to bring a peanut butter sandwich but again ran out of time. I have another chocolate square, a Kind bar, and a banana stuffed in my purse. I do not doubt that I will make an inordinate amount of noise unwrapping the sticky Kind bar. They'll probably throw me out. I wonder if I can eat a banana in here without anyone noticing? If I didn’t like the windows so much, I’d sit in a cubby. Surely no one would catch me there! But some writing will get done. Some, as you see, already has. :) Here's to a week of productivity and more!  I don't have a bucket list, per se, and I do NOT approve of skydiving. I get it. It's safer than driving, yada yada, and you're going to do it whether I approve or not. None of that means I have to like it when you jump out of a plane. I'd always thought to go hang-gliding, though. It never struck me as particularly dangerous and enjoying an eagle's eye view of the mountains I love held great appeal. So when Joseph announced that we should go paragliding in Turkey, it wasn't in me to seriously object. And there is that something about challenging yourself to do something at least a teensy bit out of your comfort zone.  It was a cool, cloudy, November day in Oludeniz when we went, and we had to wait for the clouds to disperse a little. We trusted Birsen and Kerem, our guys from FlyLiberty, so we weren't worried. And oh, it was so much fun! I admit, as we drove to the top of the mountain (thousands of feet), I began to feel a little anxious. We just kept going -- up, up, up -- and I'm a little uncomfortable with heights. I joked that I would just stay in the van. I believed I was voicing more concern than I felt in order to amuse the others. In retrospect, looking at the photos, I probably was as nervous as I thought I was pretending to be. I'm holding on tight and don't look that comfortable. As to that, I wasn't comfortable! My coat was bothering the heck out of me. Next time -- and we hope to go again soon -- I won't wear a coat or anything so constricting. Or sunglasses! Kerem insisted I wear his, but I don't think I needed them, especially on a cloudy day. But I digress. In short, Joseph looks relaxed and competent in his photos. Born to it. Me, not so much. Despite that vain displeasure, I found it a refreshing experience. Does that sound odd? For one thing, it's fun. And then, there you are, high above the forest and sea, a sure, cool breeze blowing... Everyone has asked me how it feels to jump down or jump off the top of a mountain. I don't feel that I did. We backed up, ran a little, and jumped -- up. I never experienced a feeling of falling. Kerem skillfully maneuvered the parachute and the wind took us! It was smooth sailing with spectacular scenery. Eventually, we glided gently to the ground. Would you prefer something less soothing, more exciting? The experience is, of course, tailored to the customer. I expressed anxiety and, I realize now, was clearly nervous, so Kerem took it easy. But they do stunts and loops and all sorts of things if you're up for it. Maybe next time. I'm really glad that we did it. It was a fun experience to share with my sweetheart. He didn't rub it in that I was the poster child for awkward and afterwards we celebrated with a beautiful dinner in Fethiye. Many thanks to everyone at FlyLiberty. Oludeniz, I look forward to seeing you again! Happy New Year! Before diving into the new, it's not a bad idea to review the last. I'm not saying to dwell on the past, but to just take stock, make notes, cry a few tears if needs must, and hopefully enjoy a few smiles. Last year, our house was hit hard by the historic deep freeze and subsequent bursting of pipes. But it also got renovated and we love the improvements. And during the renovation period, we enjoyed bonus time with our children and grandchildren. There were a few other things that didn't go our way, to say nothing of the precarious world situation and politics. We had cause to worry about some of our loved ones -- still do -- particularly my beloved, elderly father-in-law. But there's a beautiful new baby in our extended family, and we are more grateful than we could ever express that everyone made it through the year without serious illness. Travel was limited, but we did get away. New Mexico's mountains were beautiful last summer. We visited Turkey's Mediterranean coast and paraglided in Oludeniz. We watched our grandson play baseball. We saw our granddaughter bloom as a young artist. I signed a contract with The Wild Rose Press. For me, looking back has reminded me that things can change very fast and made me realize that last year wasn't all bad. Not at all. So, what of this year? I have so many ideas! Remember that I said some things didn't go our way? Einstein's quote has lodged itself into my imagination. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. I've resolved to do things differently this year. I always make resolutions and review at the end of the year. I didn't do badly last year, but my resolutions were too broad for them to be truly effective. This year, they're more specific. I'd like to mention one because I think you will be interested. I hope to read at least 12 self-development books and share about them with you. I wasn't going to sign up for any reading challenge but Goodreads. I weakened and signed up for Cruisin' the Cozies again because that was just fun and I'd like to read 40 more cozies this year. As for my Goodreads' Challenge, my goal is 130 books. That's approximately two and a half books a week. I hope to more than meet that goal. Working with that number, I've created my own subdivisions, one being 12 self-development/personal growth books. I'm excited! In the few quiet times during the last days of December, I listened to Deepak Chopra's The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success. I liked it so much that I want to study it further, memorize a bit, so I've ordered a hard copy. This week, I will be reading that and listening to Oliver Burkeman's Four Thousand Weeks, Time Management for Mortals. I will review, update, and generally keep you posted. I have a new day planner and wall calendar. I trust them more than my phone app, although it certainly has its uses. I have new hopes and plans and dreams. Is there anything that you'd like to share? All the best in 2022! |
A Little of This, a Little of ThatKeep me away from the wisdom that does not cry, the philosophy that does not laugh, and the greatness which does not bow before children. – Gibran Khalil Gibran Archives
November 2023
Categories
All
|
RSS Feed