Getting Stronger

Almost three weeks ago I went to a specialist on Chronic Fatigue and Fibromyalgia.  I have been taking supplements on a steady schedule.  I even traveled over 1200 miles (round trip) visiting my family last weekend.  My husband was not able to attend because my oldest had a track meet.  I did take my younger two kids and we had a wonderful time.  One of the main reasons things went well I believe is the result of the supplements I have been taking.

I am finding more of my good energy returning.  I still need to take my down time and think about the choices I make.  I am also attending an appointment in a few days for additional follow-up.  We want to continue to assess where the break down is occurring in my metabolism and take more correctional steps.  I love the fall/winter holidays and have full intention of enjoying them this year with my family.

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Writing Workshop

Thank goodness it is Friday” is a thought I am sure many of you are thinking!

While I know that many of my friends have plenty to do and keep up with,

I have found that any kind of writing is good for the mind, body, and spirit.

Even when I was working full time, writing was almost like therapy.  During

that time I wasn’t concerned about publishing, just being a practicing writer

as I was teaching the writing process.

So, are you ready to take care of yourself with some writing?

This is an event I have participated in twice, it is that good.

Here is the info:

You receive techniques, coaching, inspiration,
and direction on how to get LOTS of writing done (thus the
name of the event: *30 Articles in Just 30 Days*). Take
a look at the website where you can learn all about this and other
special upcoming ‘happenings’ and more about my mentor:

Dr. Meggin McIntosh at Emphasis on Excellence ™

http://www.kickstartcart.com/app/?af=730933

This is the sixth time this writing class has been offered.

I know that the success stories pile in every week! I’d love for you to
be part of it, too, i.e., if writing and getting your writing ‘out there’
is one of your goals.

Dr. Meggin McIntosh and Gini Cunningham will be
teaching this class (on the phone, with extensive handouts)
on Saturday, October 24, 2009. To learn more and to register, just
go here:

*30 Articles in 30 Days*

http://www.kickstartcart.com/app/?Clk=3006347 .

Have a great weekend!

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Bright Life Solutions

I love the phrase, “Bright Life Solutions.” I wish I had thought of it but a person who brought sunshine into my life thought of it instead. As many of my readers know, I entered the teaching profession some years ago. And while I do not teach in a public school at this time, I have found great pleasure working with adults. After spending time as a certified life coach, I trained others the coaching process through an entity called Professional Christian Coaching & Counseling Academy. One of my shining students is Nikia Williams.

Nikia Williams created a web site for her coaching practice and the site is an excellent visual of her warmth.  I thoroughly enjoy her laughter, her faith, and positive spirit.  She has also taken the step of a writing, and created a blog where you can gain more insight to her source of strength.  Consider meeting my friend and feel her warmth and enjoyment of life.

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I Have a Story to Tell

I have a story to tell. It’s about letting go. It’s about grieving.

Some people said it took a lot of courage to do what I did. I felt I had no other choice if I wanted to live to see my children grow up. Three school years have now passed. My teacher friends are gearing up for the new year. And tears now flow.

I cannot go back to where I was and who I was. My mind remembers the stress and difficulties but my spirit still mourns the loss. I don’t know how else to explain it, other than I’m letting go of something. I’ve yet to truly understand grief. I know what it is. I have mourned grandparents. I’ve even grieved over the loss of childhood. I am now grieving over what once was.

For fifteen years I identified myself as a teacher in one location. Since junior high I knew I was supposed to be a teacher. I had a sink or swim experience with five year olds and I didn’t just keep my head above water, I swam heartily. I never looked back. I kept my eyes on the goal – finish high school, go to college and get my teaching degree, get a job in public education. Nothing else entered my mind. Somewhere I made room to date a boy and marry him. And my focus was always teaching. In my first intro to teaching class the professor told the mentoring teacher, “Kelly doesn’t need to sit at the back of the room. She needs to do something right away.” So, my first day in the second grade class I was given fifteen minutes to review the English lesson and told to teach. “I’ll be standing off to the side. I won’t let you mess things up.” And I didn’t mess anything up. I easily beat the competition.

I didn’t get that job the first year out of college. No, I was a substitute instead. And even then, the music teachers fought over who got me to cover their class in their quarterly meetings. My mentoring teacher during my long term student teaching became ill. She asked for me to teach her class for an undesignated amount of time. I loved the responsibility.

Then it happened. I landed a job in a rural town that most teachers wanted to get out of. I was focused, energetic, and gave all my time to the cause. Nothing else seemed to matter. My wise step-father said, “Kelly, you need to live outside the classroom.” I didn’t know how. I had a child and loved him and had no worries. My son had a wonderful stay at home dad. Then, I had my second child and life became a little more stressful balancing motherhood and teaching at the same time. By then, my husband had found another role in our community and the responsibilities of parenthood were shared a bit more equally. A year home with my newborn daughter was challenging in that I loved being with her and I missed my role in the school. Then when I returned to the classroom I was torn with my daughter at day care and me working. So, I stayed up most of the night holding my daughter. Then my husband and I were surprised with a third gift from heaven.

I never doubted that I am to be a teacher. But with my third child born, balancing parenthood and the severe increase of stress in the work environment, my own body couldn’t take life any more in the manner that I was living it. I knew it was wrong for me to continue in my current paid position and resigned. I had to let go and allow my body to heal from the many days of living without rest. My journey continues and it is a new season.

Now I’m embracing the page with the words I need to say. I wanted to be a writer when I was a child. Somewhere in those teen years I received the message that I couldn’t write. That was the wrong message. I am a writer. I have too much inside me to stay inside. I have a story to tell. Many stories need to be written. My understandings of what works and what doesn’t work, pain and joy – these things need to be told.

Grief is an emotion we experience. It is difficult to explain and it is real. What I recognize is that when a person is grieving, the challenge lies in looking forward. The water is murky and fear lurks nearby. A friend once said, “Kelly, your faith moves mountains.” Sometimes I still need to hear those words. Faith is what gives strength to moving forward.

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August 29

Today I’m blogging for the simple need to write about the funeral proceedings for Sen. Kennedy.  I’m of the younger Kennedy generation in that I was born the year that Bobby Kennedy was assassinated.  And, as I have not spent a lot of my time and energy studying politics, I am now learning so many things about Sen. Kennedy and his family.  I guess I feel some regret of not really knowing about the Kennedy family previously.  I did not realize the significance of Sen. Kennedy supporting Pres. Obama.

In the funeral service today I think the people captured a whole man.  The rituals, the symbolism, and the messages sharing his core values gives me much “food for thought” on my own beliefs and who I am.    I find it funny that commentaries make reference to his Irish lineage as I am also Irish.  I find it interesting the continued reference to his hardships.  I thought one of the most poignant stories shared is the young Ted Kennedy, Jr. who just lost a leg due to bone cancer.  Sen. Kennedy’s words to his son about never giving up seems to be a key message Sen. Kennedy lived.

I found the Scriptures chosen to be valuable words to hear today.  They are reminders to all of us why we are here on this earth.

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Fibromyalgia Blog

Some readers of my blog may not realize that a word that entered my vocabulary a couple years ago is fibromyalgia.  I have had chronic health issues and a point came when I needed to remove myself from my work environment and take care better care of me.  It was during that time my family learned the name of the health issue I experience daily.  Recently I made the decision to write about my experiences and share this with others.

Another site has some additional good source for women’s health.  Fibro-myalgia.com has graciously shared some of my writing and I want to recognize the site author here.  So, if you want to learn more, this is another resource for you to explore.

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Crafty Friends

When you hear the word crafty, do you think of the synonym “sly” or do you think of your aunt or grandma sitting in her chair with things she has created?  I think it is funny how in the English language this term has two distinct meanings.  Now, with my blog title, I could write about those who are sly as a fox that I enjoy hanging around.  Or, I can write about those who have a hobby of making unique gifts.  I could also discuss how writers craft their ideas on the page.

Well, today it is short and simple…I’ve discovered a lady who enjoys creating unique gifts who also enjoys my blog.  So, I just want to recognize her and send you to her cute, hand made, collectible dolls.  With the holidays coming, some of you like to find a new something for the season.  Here’s the link:  http://www.cedarhillrustics.com/intro.html.

So, Maggie of Alburqueque, NM, hope your craftiness serves you well this fall season at Cedar Hill Rustic’s.  Your Primitives and Folk Dolls are cute!

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Authenticity

A few years back this word kind of hit my forehead.  Really…I thought, is this “______” for real?  Here are some thoughts about authenticity.

First, here are a handful of definitions:

• the quality of being genuine and trustworthy (American Heritage)
• of undisputed origin; genuine (adj. authentic; Oxford)
• correctness (Encarta)
• authoritative (Merriam-Webster)
• real or true (Cambridge)

Recently, I’ve encountered a few conversations when the core issue is authenticity.  Most people, I believe, want to be authentic.  We want to be truthful and genuine.  And, at the same time, I think we sometimes behave in a manner to protect ourselves. Let me share an example.

Imagine being a teacher.  You are a role model to many people.  You strive to present your best whenever you are in the professional setting.  You have knowledge of content and practice skills in the professional setting.  You share the value of reading a variety of text, both informational and fictional.  You confess to believe in what you are doing.  You believe that staying up on the professional issues of education is vital to your personal growth.  And then, you arrive home, tired and away from the numerous things coming at you in the work place.  All you want to do is “veg” or “escape.”  You never find time for this personal growth you claim is so important to you.  You seldom journal and capture the ideas that are swirling inside and need an outlet.  Are you being authentic?

I ask this question and share this scenario because sometimes it is easier to make judgments without “walking in the other person’s shoes.”  I believe that authenticity can be looked at on a continuum.  This teacher really does believe in the things she says and then she feels stuck when she is not able to do what she says is important.  Days or seasons may occur when being who we say we are is more difficult to apply.  We don’t want to tell our boss our weaknesses; we want to present our best selves – our potential.  At home, the people who are around us all the time, they tend to see our weaknesses because we are not usually trying to hold onto that job of being a mother.  We are a mother whether we feel like it or not that day!

Also, seasons may occur when that authenticity is emanating almost continuously.  We converse with people, listening intently to the things around us and have the inner strength to hold to our core values.  We discover our resources and are able to fulfill the commitments we make with minimal challenges.  The whole self is in alignment – the physical, the emotional, the intellectual.   Our behaviors clearly match our beliefs.

I know of situations when not being authentic has been a way of protecting one’s self.  Have you been in a conversation when you were asked if you know about something and you politely say no?  Did you anticipate the next part of the conversation and it was easier to say no in the beginning?  I see this as a way of protecting one’s space and energy.   It isn’t that you don’t care at all about the situation, you are prioritzing your life.  You prioritize your values.

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With Forgiveness…Fruits of the Spirit Grow

Life with forgiveness allows the fruits of the Spirit – hope, peace, and joy – to grow.  KJE

Last night I wrote about living life without forgiveness.  Tonight I am writing about life with forgiveness.  We really do have a choice.

The tree stood tall alongside a younger tree of the forest.  A woman sat on a log cut lengthwise.  She contemplated the expression of another woman sitting adjacent.  A decision point arrived for the younger individual.

“Listen to the whispers of the forest.  What do you hear?”

“I don’t know.  I’ve never listened to the trees before.”

“Listen to more than just the trees moving in the air.  Close your eyes and remove the distractions of the other voices competing for your attention.”

The woman did as she was told.  The women sat quietly.

“What did you hear this time?”

“I heard some kind of bird chirping.  I heard the water lapping on the bank.  Something was rustling to my left.”

“Good.  Now you are ready to listen to the whispers.  Let’s spend some more time blending into the forest, becoming a member.”

Again, the women were quiet for awhile.

“Now, open your eyes.  What voice did you hear?”

“The voice was a knowing.  I cannot compare what I heard to an audible sound.”

“So, when you were listening, what did you come to know?”

“I am part of something greater than just the world as I see it.  I felt my muscles release tension I did not know I carried.  I sensed something overwhelm me, as if arms were being wrapped around me.”

“And what words did you receive when those arms wrapped around you?”

“I was told that I was loved.  I was told that I was forgiven.  I need to forgive myself.”

“What does the word ‘forgiven’ mean?”

A pause ensued.

“Give. For- means extremely. Pardon. Stop being angry.”

“So, what does it mean to ‘forgive myself’?”

“I need to stop being angry with myself?”

“And what else?”

“When I am no longer angry I can experience love.”

“What else is possible for you to experience when you forgive?”

“Well, as I sit here, I recognize that I feel peaceful.”

“When peace is sustained, what else happens?”

“I know joy.”

The wind blew the boughs of the mature tree around the younger one.  The expression of the women were of the same mind.

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, peace, joy…” Galations 5:22

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Without Forgiveness…Pebbles on the Journey

Without forgiveness, pebbles on the journey of life cut the skin like jagged rocks. KJE

Evidence of time aged the faces of the individuals I had first known as a child.    On the grassy bank of the lake children explored their environment while their parents prepared for the family barbecue.  I reflected upon the evidence of the past, present, and future.

The small town sits on the fishing lake’s shore.  State park signs and picnic/camping markers greets the visitor who detours from the highway.  Individual cars with a $4 day pass in the window park on well kept grounds.  As the visitors step out of the vehicle, the scent of pine trees enters the nostrils.  Pine needles and small cones crunch under the tennis shoes.  75 degrees and a blue sky with light waffley clouds overhead promise a picture perfect day.

Six out of seven siblings of the family gather together, bringing as many of their adult children and grandchildren possible.  Most of the individuals live within an 80 mile radius and yet these gatherings are rare.  The cousins know of each other and play as children do with the oldest taking the lead of recreational activities.  The boys with fishing poles in hand eventually share their tips to the girls observing the attempts of catching the fish that just jumped out of the water.  When the boys tire of holding the pole, they place a new squirmy worm on the hook for the girl cousins waiting patiently.  As the afternoon continues, the individual quirks of the children honestly express themselves.

Adults greet each other with politeness and identification of who is who takes place.  For me, I look at the faces of the now young adults who I once babysat when they were toddlers and pre-schoolers.  I recall the camping trips when I wasn’t a little kid and I wasn’t an adult either.  I had bounced between the little kid activities and listening to the grown-ups talk.  Now I am the adult with children of my own.  My memory of the relationships and individual behaviors of my family members are acutely accurate.  I also realize that I was not that much younger than my aunts and uncles.  My mom, the oldest of the siblings, has a sister two years younger than me.  And so, as an adult, the differences in age between me and my aunts and uncles seems hardly evident.

I observe a card game of those who enjoyed cards in the past.  I observed my uncle preparing the meat and delegating just as my grandpa had done.  My aunt organized the other food items on the picnic tables just as my grandma had done.  Time had moved forward and while my grandparents are no longer with us, I see them through the others.  Things are in many ways, the same.  I have a moment when I am walking in the days of my youth – listening to the conversations of the grown-ups, watching the younger individuals discuss the rules of the game to be played, and hearing my mother’s voice as she works around the camp ground to engage all those who are present, being the peace maker.

At the end of the day gladness and sadness settles.  I am thankful that I made the trip to this place of my past.  The faces and memories are clarified.  The healing for the memory of the time I lived on this lake’s shore has occurred.  Sadness still remains as some individuals still need healing from their youth and early adult years.  I regret not connecting with a companion of that period of my life.  Avoidance of eye contact and sharing of stories reminds me that not all have received the gift of forgiveness.  Events that are pebbles on my journey are jagged rocks for others.

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