Self-Compassion

Deep Souldiver's avatarDeep Souldiving

Self-CompassionSometimes the pain isn’t enough. Sometimes you have to open yourself to a greater darkness. The darkness of truth.

Sometimes we need to ask ourselves a question in that darkness. When something doesn’t go away and it keeps coming back…repeating itself over and over…we need to gently ask ourself:

“What do I need to know?”

Open our heart to the answer. Be with it for a while. And then let it go its own way.

Another day will dawn. Light will make everything new.

*photo from  http://www.inspirefirst.com/2012/07/26/expressionism-photography-collection/

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Seems like yesterday… Thoughts on graduation

Image

We stat in a crowded arena in downtown Jacksonville waiting for the students to march to rows of chairs on the floor. The air was mixed with jubilation and boredom, and then the graduating seniors marched in two at a time. There was my daughter, almost a woman now, waving and grinning. There were songs and speeches from educators who exhorted these seventeen and eighteen year old kids to follow their dreams and lead worthy lives.

Then came the speeches from the graduates. The class president gave a plucky speech and took a selfie at the end and everyone clapped. There were words from the valedictorian, the class president, the class historian, and athletes. The speeches were heartfelt, and I  could tell the youngsters put a good deal of time and effort preparing them. They were earnest, hopeful, and full of the hubris of youth.

Each speech began in similar fashion, and the young grads all used a common phrase: “It seems like just yesterday…”  They followed this expression up in varying ways. “…we were scared freshmen,” or “we were lost on our first day of school.”

I’m a somewhat jaded middle-aged man, and the first time one of the kids said “it seems like just yesterday,” I said to my wife, “because it was.” She gave me a look that said shut up.

I chuckled. The decades since I graduated from high school seem short to me now. I still recall the smell of the gym where I spent so much of my time in high school playing basketball, and I can hear the squeak of sneakers on the floor, feel the leather of the rock as I sank a free throw to win a game. It seems like yesterday, and it’s been almost thirty years.

I sat in the stands and listened to the speeches and watched the kids throw their caps into the air after turning the tassels. My mother, sitting next to me, smiling and clapping along with my in-laws, the three of them senior citizens on the near side of seventy. I’m sure that to them, it seemed like just yesterday they were my age, watching their own kids graduate.

“You have no idea how fast it goes,” my father in law said at dinner afterwards. “Cause tomorrow is going to be here before you know it.”

This week I got on the floor and played trains with my five year old for hours. I ran around the house playing army with my nine-year old, blasting away at invading forces with plastic machine guns and helmets.

I enjoyed every second of it, because I know only too soon, I’ll be saying, “it seems like only yesterday.”

Review: Luckbane by Tony Breeden

21971664

 

<a href=”https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21971664-luckbane&#8221; style=”float: left; padding-right: 20px”><img alt=”Luckbane (Otherworld #1)” border=”0″ src=”https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1398170596m/21971664.jpg&#8221; /></a><a href=”https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21971664-luckbane”>Luckbane</a&gt; by <a href=”https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6551660.Tony_Breeden”>Tony Breeden</a><br/>
My rating: <a href=”https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/954281760″>5 of 5 stars</a><br /><br />
Luckbane is one of those rare books that made me smile every few pages as I lost myself in it.<br><br>In a future where countries are corporations, a janitor has the opportunity to embark on the adventure of a life time on a distant planet where the stakes are higher than he imagined. The game is very real, and death is permanent.<br><br>Luckbane combines Science Fiction and fantasy seamlessly, and the author takes great care in creating vastly different worlds, nuanced and fresh. He utilizes tropes and stereotypes to surprise the reader rather than make us feel we’re reading another rehash of Lord of the Rings.<br><br>The pacing is brisk, and the battle scenes are visceral and well drawn; we care about the characters and their fate.The supporting cast is interesting and diverse.<br><br>There is an airiness about this book I really liked, a kind of light in it which is rare in any kind of book. I highly recommend it to fans of fantasy and sci-fi.<br>
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<a href=”https://www.goodreads.com/review/list/17763349-sean-t-smith”>View all my reviews</a>

On coping with writer’s block (or the lies we tell ourselves along the way)

sunnyrap's avatarBlack coffee and cigarettes

writing 2

I haven’t written for a very long time.

I joined a creative writing class a while ago to help me through my ‘writer’s block’ – can you call yourself a writer if you don’t write? – and I managed to produce a total of 500 words over the entire four-week course. A paltry amount by any standards, though the course itself was brilliant.

One of the suggestions from my fellow writers was to write about why I don’t write. I’ve been thinking a lot about the reasons I don’t write lately so this seemed as good a place to kick off my writing again as any. And also address why I call myself a writer in the first place – a hard sell in the writing void of the last few months.

In my professional life, I have been a public relations consultant, a journalist and now, an editor. Words…

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Stonehenge

siriundlin's avatarTatterhood

ruin:

/ˈruːɪn/

noun

1. 
the physical destruction or disintegration of something or the state of disintegrating or being destroyed.

What is the difference between the living and the dead?

On the surface, it is a simple question. At least, when it comes to our fellow humans (and other sentient beings) we are fairly good at differentiating. Breath, color, language, movement.

But what about stone? What about the rocks we shape and move; worship; commemorate; celebrate?

Whom among us can deny the spirit of a gravestone? Who could gaze upon the structure of Stonehenge and not hear the echoes of those ancient, well-kept secrets?

Well, as it turns out, there are plenty of people who can and do. I really don’t want to come off as condescending here, but my trip to Stonehenge today was, largely, infuriating. I stood on the circular path that encloses the site and watched hundreds…

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Angry with God….

angry with god

One of my favorite movie scenes is from Forest Gump, when Lt. Dan rages from the crow’s nest of his shrimp boat in the middle of a hurricane, shaking his fist at the heavens. Feeling betrayed by God, the universe, and life comes naturally to us, I think. It certainly does for me.

LT Dan

A central tenet of Christianity is the acceptance of God’s supremacy, and that in the end “all things work according to the good.” When looking at hurricanes, genocides,  and war, it is impossible for me to understand how these can be good. I can’t wrap my head around it, because it seems unjust. I grapple with these things on an intellectual level, but in the end I retreat into a leap of faith, admitting that a power as vast as God must be, there is no possible way I can understand the infinite permutations of destiny, the colorful threads connecting a universe larger than my puny mind can comprehend. When it’s personal, though, is when it becomes dangerous for me. My faith is not strong enough.

I recognize the futility of it. I understand there is no arguing with God, and that nothing good can possibly come of the attempt. And still I’m guilty of it. I look around at things, and I say to myself, “that’s not fair. Why?” It is ultimately a selfish emotion, at its root, even if it is couched in compassion. What I’m truly saying is “Why Me?” Which is absurd, human, and a bit pathetic.

I had a discussion recently with a Godly man, a much wiser one than I. I told him I was feeling rankled with God. ” Yes, I’ve made some big mistakes, made some dumb decisions, I said. I’m trying hard to rely on God, and I’m not seeing any improvements. In fact, things are getting worse.”

“I see,” he said, nodding his head. “So you’re angry with God because of things you did, and now you’re upset because He’s not fixing things as quickly as you like? Did I get that right.”

I had to sheepishly agree with him, and recognizing that made me feel a bit better. There are consequences. Perhaps it’s not God’s role to make those go away.

Sunrise

I’m working at focusing on the good, seeking out the light, and infusing my life with a greater sense of gratitude, for anger is a poison in our veins, a killing toxin. A life bereft of hope is tragic and lonely. I’m lowering my fist.

 

 

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Books Will Never Die

Heather Wheat's avatarWandering Bark Books

Last week, Mireille Silcoff wrote an article for The New York Times: On Their Death Bed, Books Have Finally Become Sexy.

Given that I recently published a blog post, “Sexiest Book Alive,” I took issue with the idea that physical books have ever NOT been sexy. Then I read the piece, and I took serious issue with some other things, indeed.

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How many words do you write a day? And do you have to force yourself? How successful authors do it

Great article. Every writer is different.

Roz Morris @Roz_Morris's avatarNail Your Novel

Dave writing This question appeared in my inbox from Adam Nicholls after I reported on Facebook that I’d managed 4,000 words of The Mountains Novel in one day. Adam DMd me, in not a little anguish:

How many words do you write per day? And do you have to force yourself to do it? I love writing, but it’s work.

There are two significant points in this question:

  • output; books growing steadily at a satisfactory rate
  • difficulty.

How many words per day?

I asked this question of a group I’m a member of, The League of Extraordinary Authors. Romance author Melissa Foster says she has no difficulty getting 7,000 to 10,000 words written in a day and that she adores the blank page. No issues with output there. (But there’s more to writing a good novel than stacking up the wordcount, as she points out in the comments below.)

Romance author

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