Announcements: Bella Grace and Public Reading--Bonus Post

Announcement #1: The dazzling quarterly publication, Bella Grace, Life's A Beautiful Journey, has again published one of my essays. This essay, my third in Bella Grace, is called "The Sounds of Life," and, as always, is illustrated with evocative photographs. 

             








              

              
              I relish silence. I need silence and solitude. But
              I've learned the silence that nurtures me is a 
              back drop for the sounds of life. It is silence in 
              which I can hear my inner voice reminding me to
              love my life, a silence that is more of a preparation
              for the life around me than a retreat from it. It is
              the kind of silence in which I can hear light 
              sprinkles of rain on the skylights in my garret or
              the sound of a breeze urging fall leaves to let go. 
              It is the kind of silence that comes in the night when
              I hear my beloved breathing, sometimes heavily,
              beside me.

              The sounds of life. 

The June/July/August issue will be available soon at bookstores or newsstands or you can subscribe/order here.







Announcement #2: During the previous year I have been in a group called Author's Circle. Organized by Elizabeth Jarret Andrew, the group has met monthly to support each other in the writing life. 

On Tuesday, June 5 from 7-9:30 the writers in this group will be reading from works in progress, and you are invited. The event will be held at 2615 Park Avenue South, Minneapolis, MN.  https://www.facebook.com/events/416831295437677/permalink/428351497618990/

I plan to read from the spiritual memoir I am writing--possibly from the last chapter. Here's a sneak preview:

              "Where is home for you?" the perky warm-hearted
              facilitator of our new member group asks. We are 
              sitting in a circle in the large colonial-styled
              gathering room at church, a dozen of us. This is the 
              last of the new member orientation sessions. Eager to
              actually be a member, I wish I could bypass the "new
              girl" routine I have experienced many times in my 
              life.

              "Where is home for you?"

               I said I had moved a great deal as a child, and I
               complimented my parents on their ability to 
               quickly create home in each new house. I mentioned
               I had moved several times as an adult, too, and 
               ended by saying, "I love the process of creating
               home, of finding home, wherever I am."

               When it was Bruce's turn, he quietly and quickly 
               gestured toward me and said, "Nancy is my home."
               There was quiet in the room, almost a holy hush, 
               and then a collective group sigh. Such an open and
               expressive statement of love from someone of 
               Norwegian descent! Absorbing, treasuring the love
               expressed, I totally missed the responses from the
               rest of the group. 

It would be great to see you at this event. 

Hope you don't mind the extra post this week. I'll be back on Tuesday with something more reflective. 





         

Time-Out: Tuesday's Reflection

During the toddler years, a time-out was often necessary. 

For both the child and the parent. 

A time to cool off, regroup, restore, return to one's better self. 

I recall saying, firmly, but I hope not with anger in my voice, "I need you to go to your room for a time-out. Now." Sometimes I set the kitchen timer to eliminate the question, "Can I come out now?"

More often than not the time-out solved the problem, eased the tension, and lightened the mood, and ended with hugs.

If you read my last post, you know I am working diligently on the manuscript of my spiritual memoir. I spend many hours of the day at my desk working on it, but sometimes I need a time-out. When I sit staring at the laptop screen or when I reread a sentence over and over again or when 5 minutes playing solitaire turns into 10 or 15, I know it is time for a time-out. I am no longer operating from my best writing self. 

It is time for a time-out. 

But here's the trick. To really be a time-out, what you do needs to be nurturing and not just a turn to another task awaiting your attention. In other words, cleaning the bathroom, in most cases, is not the best time-out. 

My go-to rest stop most often is reading something purely for pleasure. Not for book group. Not for meditation. Not as part of research for what I am writing. Not to become better informed about all the issues of the day that weigh heavily on my heart. 

The best companion on my solitary time-outs is a good book, of course. Right now I am reading Willa Cather's The Song of The Lark, and I love its leisurely pace, the richness of description, and the depth of her characters. But I am just as apt to enjoy a new home decor magazine or savor the latest issue of Bella Grace.

Sometimes, however, a time-out means physically leaving the house--and I don't mean heading to the grocery store. A walk. A drive through a neighborhood of interesting houses. Lunch at a new spot. I prescribe a time-out for myself not to check something off the list, but to touch something inside that feels stale or dull or weary. 

When I suspect I need a time-out, I ask myself, "Why do you think a time-out would be a good idea right now?" 

Sometimes my answer reveals I am avoiding something or feeling fearful or a lack of self-confidence. It is at those times I need to dig in more and face the demon. But sometimes my neck hurts and I realize I forgot to eat lunch and I am just at a good place to stop working.

That's when I blow my virtual noon time whistle and retreat to a time-out. 

An Invitation

How do you know you need a time-out and what do you do? I would love to know.