A Box Office Smash Hit

I thought his years Northern Colorado Writer's Conference was a box office smash hit. It was easy to navigate, well organized, things started on time, the food was really good, and best of all the workshops were topnotch. I struggled to decide which of the workshops I had to leave out. The ones I attended moved me closer to my goal to prepare/finish a manuscript or two for publication sooner rather than 'one of these days'.

The nuts and bolts, the learning parts if you will, from Rachelle Gardner and Mike Befelor were complete and well presented. My afternoon sessions with John Calderazzo, Laura Pritchett and Tina Forkner were superb. I can't think of a better way to say it.

Although I didn't feel I was ready to do a pitch, I had planned to make contact with one of the presenters and I was able to do that over breakfast with Tina Forkner. I benefited by her depth of information about the inspirational market which parallels many of my interests. I believe we are on the same wave length and she invited me to e-mail her if I had questions.

But the best thing about the whole experience was that I got to listen to people who loved what they were doing. They woke up each morning excited about that day, from the Hollywood elegance of Stephen Cannell to Todd Mitchells heartfelt words to the delightful 'On the Spot" improv. group...they were all having fun! And so did I!

Thanks Kerrie!

Catching the Mare

Catching the Mare
Pasture Musing
March 2010

morning quiet, drifting along,
rope in hand I stumble a bit
over rough ground, marking it,

I lift my boots above mounds

of soft earth,old grass

I wonder about

tall grass that had such promise
but gave up long ago
to lie pushed down by
snow weight, sun's burn
horses feet, soaking water

I believe it was happy to return
something of what once was
to the earth… I'm thankful
the winter sun
the wind’s hint of warmth
the shortened darkness

elusive fox, mysterious coyote,
brave feral cat leave
their tracks in earth too,
next to the grasses
they survive but some, like me
still don’t understand

Smile but Stubbornly Go

One of my searching times was way back in the 80's when I was attending seminary. I met weekly with a small group of students that first year for support and challenge, for opening eyes and hearts. One thing it was supposed to do was to help us become at least aware if not tolerant but hopefully accepting of other students' widely divergent views and experiences about what they believed. This may have been more true of Iliff School of Theology in Denver than for others such as Oral Roberts for example.

I made the decision to take this path because of my passion for making a difference, but not in the way you may think. I was not a preacher who was hell-bent on saving souls. I just wanted to do what I could to make a difference in my small way, like the star thrower who returned one of hundreds of starfish that had been beached to the sea. It didn't make a difference to hundreds of starfish but it made a difference to one. I was searching my heart for the best way to do that I guess. And I ended up at seminary. My passion for justice grew through church involvement. in social issues. Tom Sutherland, one of the hostages held in Lebanon was a member of my congregation. I was convinced then as I still am today that God is love. And love will win but only if each person tosses a starfish back into the sea.

As I recall the year I began was the first year the number of female students equaled the number of male students at Iliff. It was also marked by a growing number of students embarking on their second or third careers. I was 45 and I felt like a fish out of water. It was helpful though, to see that there were also lots of other fish. So if numbers mean anything I think there was beginning to be a critical mass. Many women thought of themselves as pioneers. And we were.

I remember thinking as I emerged from my first exam which happened to be in Old Testament that if I passed that test I would probably make it through to graduation. It was certainly the first time I had studied the Old Testament and to be honest it was also the first time I had read the whole thing through. I questioned my decision to attend seminary many times in the years following but this first exam was a make it or break it for me and one that made me keep asking myself "what I was thinking?".

So when I came across this poem by Denver poet Lois Beebe Hayna it became a kind of a mantra that I memorized and wove into my soul. From the day I took it to my first year discussion group till now it reminds me, even as I get older that it is never too late to "tend a vine of my own choosing.''

Late to the Vineyard

by Lois Beebe Hayna

Delayed Bloomer, ten o' clock achiever,jack of all directions but your own,lady, will you tend at last a vine of your own choosing?
Forget calendars, ignore warnings of frost and blight;discount praise for your delicate hands.Smile but stubbornly go,because Indian summer shines for the late-to-luckand time runs earlier, earlier than anyone suspects.

Frost will miraculously bypass your budswhile rain rounds harvest ripe for you.Your grapes will be sound, lady, sound and sweet.You will sip each fruitlike wine.

Strands

Today my writer self feels like I am dangling. The other day I described this blog, The Spice of Life as a place to write about times when you have experienced spice in your life. It could be anything from what gives you meaning to what is fun. Writing spices up my life, it gives me meaning and is fun, except when I can’t decide what I want to say.
I discovered that when you write about your life and you are my age it is important to have a metaphor that helps to keep your thoughts within certain boundaries so you don’t go wandering off into irrelevant but interesting side trips. At least that is the way it is for me. Thinking of one’s life as a journey is always good but again, those pesky side trips don’t do anything but take you places you might need to go but a reader would probably become hopelessly lost and quit reading. An example is Route 66, the cross county highway that was eventually replaced by the interstate system. I wanted to mention this because I am 66 years old at the moment and it seemed relevant. If you drive across the country on Route 66 these days I imagine all that is left is bits and pieces here and there and it is not clear where it is going or where it went for that matter.
But at one time Route 66 actually went somewhere. I’m not so sure about my life. So I thought of a tangled ball of yarn that been unraveled but rolled back up, carelessly rolled back up so it was almost impossible to unravel, it was one continuous piece . But my life has not ever gone in one direction or in one continuous piece, at least not for long. It has been more like a ball of yarn that has lots of pieces, some that are long, or cut short, some buried, with different colors and textures, tied together, exciting, strange, or just left dangling. Now that is beginning to feel about right.
So the song goes on: “Say What You Need to Say”.

Say What You Need to Say

If you read "Searching for Silence", an earlier post when I set a goal to write posts to two blogs twice a week you may be wondering what happened. My posts come sporadically and certainly not consistently and this posting is a couple of weeks since my last post. While this is better it is clearly not up to my stated goal in "Searching for Silence". I need to rethink it.

I should remember that I have been able to set aside one day a week for writing, and that is usually not a whole day. Even though I have a little extra time now four mornings a week because my daughter agreed to feed the horses Sunday through Wednesday, I am having trouble.

I know I do my best creating in the mornings when I wake up and I think if I had just another 1/2 hour I could get short posts written which is just what I need to do because when I think too much they get too long. But life gets in the way, things like breakfast, feeding cats or dogs or horses and clutter. Making a dent in the clutter seems to be the thing that takes over. As far as writing at night? Well, that is another story.

So what is going on? Today I thought about the bigger issue that I have been struggling with either a little or a whole lot. And since we moved to Fort Collins it is a whole lot.

Finding time to do the things I feel called to do has always been a distant rumble in my life. I'm reminded of the rumbling that announced the approaching storms that blew across the corn fields of eastern Iowa where I grew up in the 50's. But the rumbling I feel now has an ominous element. It has to do with the fact that I am viewing the end of my years instead of the beginning. Then the rumbling was exciting. Now I am feeling a bit anxious.

I really have had a pretty interesting life. My calling to make a difference in the world has given me opportunities to do so. But closer to home is that I am a twin and I married a twin. In itself this does not seem so much of a big deal. It does make for a big family. Then having 6 grandchildren in 5 years, including 2 sets of twins born within days of each other is a bit noteworthy. It has generated lots of joy as well as unbelievable chaos. No wonder I have been searching for silence.

I guess I began feeling like I was missing something years ago. I didn't let it surface. I believed all the pretty pictures in our photo albums. Well, they did show a certain view of our lives. I do feel good when I see them. But it is just that I never acknowledged the restlessness inside. It sat in the background doing its rumbling thing.

I was diagnosed with Adult Attention Deficit Disorder a few years ago. But there is no question I have been struggling with it all my life. I have worked with therapists, spiritual directors and doctors most of which helped. But the mystery remains. I struggle with the patchwork of symptoms and different treatment options. I just want to write.

Here's what it is like. I am often chronically, embarrassingly, and frustratingly late. I guess I have always been this way but I can't remember when it started. I can remember when it began to be a problem. I have realized I misjudge how long it takes to get ready to do something, how long it takes to get to places, am often distracted, begin to feel anxious about being late and inconveniencing people or shortchanging myself, can't decide about what is most important and don't often walk out the door on time.

So why have I written and published this personal material? I don't know exactly, maybe I just want to get it out. The song. "Say what you need to say" is still urging me on.

Appearances

Dear Margie,

Thank you for your response. It has been too long since we have corresponded. I'm glad you share my enthusiasm for the singer IZ's work. At the beginning of his C.D., Wonderful World it seems like you can actually hear the sun rising. When I get up early to feed the horses and roll up the shade toward the east the sky is just beginning to lighten up. And if I catch it just right, in an instant there are layers upon layers of warm reds and oranges and pinks that blend and shift and spread into each other as if embracing. So when I turn on that C.D. it feels as if the melody flows those colors into the room. I actually experience the music of the sunrise. At Thanksgiving I brought my 6 yr. old grandson into the room to watch and listen with me. We tiptoed over to the window and stood there in silence and allowed the color to wash over us. It was a nice moment for both of us.

And hearing from you felt the same way. It was so good to hear from you and to see how much you enjoy being there in Hawaii with your art and community of artists.

I do know about the 'Rainbow Bridge'. I learned about it on a trip to Utah when we visited the Best Friends Animal Sanctuary. I believe animals that we have brought into our families and loved and have loved us in return are a visible manifestations of God's love. It appears in a heartfelt song, a sunrise that takes your breath away, a loyal sweet dog, a patient grandson, and compassion and kindness.

It was good that your family had some good resources when you had to say goodbye to Prince. The memorial service for pets I attended a few months ago was organized by the Argus Institute at C.S.U. This institute is an effort to bring vet science and resources to bear on helping families with end of life issues for their pets. There is a growing sensitivity for animals and a body of knowledge that has identified a 'caring' in animals that goes beyond instinct, even in so-called wild animals. Read Temple Grandin, who has written, Animals Make Us Human. She is a nationally known professor and writer (from C.S.U.) who has written from an unusual perspective, that of her own experience with autism. Hers was one of the voices that spoke out especially for farm animals against their inhumane treatment from feed lots to the slaughter house. (Looks like I have gotten on my soapbox a bit. :-)

Maybe we can talk on the phone again sometime. I would like that.

Take care,
Pam

Sightings

To Margie on Maui
(and other neglected friends who I would like to reconnect with after a silence of too many months)

For the last month or so you have been in my thoughts almost every day. I hope that is a good sign. Actually, it might be a matter of a bit of guilt. Nah...I was just missing you and wanting to get in touch with you. After all, it was Christmastime last year that we last connected.

I have looked at your website again, Margie and am thrilled about how you and your art reflect each other, I guess the word is congruent...and beautiful. I'm also wishing I was there to enjoy the warmth. (It is freeezing in Fort Collins today, below zero at 3:00 in the afternoon) brrrrr.

I have started to write again. Even though I am burdoned by all the poems, stories, papers (from Iliff), some sermons, my photographs, letters and books that sit in boxes and folders because somewhere in them I am sure a treasure is hidden I refuse to throw it away. I think that's a good thing. Because while my life has been filled with all the adjustments and chaos that comes with moving something tells me I need to be careful about my 'sorting hat.'

I wanted to tell you about an experience I call a 'sighting'. I think of it as a glimspse of God or clarity or assurance or direction of something that allows me to see or feel God's love breaking through. Sometimes it is the words of a song, or something I have read or the presence of one of my purrring cats, or that I have received a gift of help or nurture from someone. This is happening more and more.

Recently I was struggling about a decision to put down Mollie, our Bassett. One night I was listening to Delilah, who makes dedications for people and plays requested music on her radio show. She played an absolutely charming version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow by Hawaian singer IZ. His interpretation of this song of hope touched me deeply. It kind of possessed me in a good way so I knew it was the right time, it was God's assurance. It was what I call a 'sighting'.

Then I remembered that I also had heard Somewhere Over the Rainbow at a memorial service for pets held at C.S.U. earlier in the year and so it was appropriate and comforting that when we said good-bye to Mollie we played that song by IZ.

Often when I wake up in the morning I play "It's a Wonderful World" and "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" and I'm helped to begin my day with a positive attitude and a sense of knowing God is with me. Also I wrote Mollie's story and put together a memory book for her and would like to do that for other people who want to remember their animals. It was a healing experience.

So I'll quit now but I wanted to send my blog addresses to you for you to read when you can. I have worked hard to learn how to write blogs on the computer. I think it will help return me to writing.http://www.msg-spiceoflife.blogspot.com/ (Spice of Life) and http://www.pamelawolf.blogspot.com/ (Writing Outside the Barn)
I'd love to hear how you are.
Pam

Dear Pam,

How nice to hear from you. I am very happy for you that you are experiencing such meaningful expressions of Grace. I love Iz’s Over the Rainbow. Are you familiar with the “ Rainbow Bridge ” which is the way for animals to “pass over”? You can find it on the web and I know that it really helped our family when our Prince died. Great to know that you are getting back into writing and I understand that blogging is a perfect way to do that.

I am very happy with my life here. My artist community has been my “family” and it is a pleasure to show and sell my art and to work in the gallery. My spiritual work is still the main focus of my life.

I wish you and your family a wonderful holiday season. It was such a pleasure to get the photo of your amazing family of twins – last Christmas.

Margie from Maui