Dancing in the Rain

I'm a quote junkie. Anyone who has followed this blog for any length of time has probably figured that out. Quotes are sprinkled throughout my novels. I keep a journal filled with my favourite ones. How I admire those thoughtful people who can capture the essence of a wise idea in a pithy line or two.

A couple favourite quotes have helped me find direction in recent days.

Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass... it's about learning to dance in the rain. (author unknown.)

My mother is dealing with difficult health issues right now and making decisions on how best to care for her has consumed all my waking hours for much of the past few months. I keep telling myself that I'll resume the rest of my life once this 'storm' has passed but it's now dawning on me that this situation isn't going to blow over like a storm does. It's here to stay, in one form or another. It's time for me to learn to dance in the rain, to care for my mother and continue with my own projects. Now that I have given myself permission to do that, I'm back to mulling over an idea I have for my next book. So far I have imagined the characters. I have imagined the problem they are facing, their 'internal conflict'. I even know (sort of) what the outcome of the story will be. What I have yet to decide is whose voice will tell the story and what external conflicts there will be, those events that run parallel to the internal struggles.

Here's a quote that describes this exact place that I'm at with this project.

"No one but an artist knows the peculiar delight of being summoned by a work which, as yet unborn, lies with all its potential undisclosed within the dormant darkness of the creating heart. (Mr. Golightly's Holiday)

I have yet to type one word of this book, but I am definitely being 'summoned' by it. It's an exciting place to be at. The hard work has yet to come.

And one last quote, which I think explains why so many of us forward on inspirational pieces via email, or, like me, forward our favourite quotes.

"If you find something good share it with anyone you can find. In that way the goodness will spread, no telling how far it will go." (Forest Carter, The Education of the Little Tree)

Namaste

Shelley

The photo above was taken from www.exploredance.com/fashion81003.php

I'm counting the days...

My favourite day of the season is approaching and no, it's not Christmas Day. It's the Winter Solstice, when the days stop getting shorter and begin to lengthen again.

In the meantime, I'm grateful for Christmas lights which brighten these long, dark nights of December.

Most of our customs, symbols, and rituals associated with Christmas are actually linked to the Winter Solstice celebrations of ancient Pagan cultures, including bringing light to these long nights. (Obviously the Pagans didn't have electric Christmas lights, but that's where the whole idea of lighting the night originally started.) Other customs borrowed from the Pagans include feasting, decorating our homes with greenery and expressing love by exchanging gifts. The actual birth of Jesus was in the fall but December 25th was the day chosen to represent his birth in order to tie it in with the winter solstice rituals that had already been long established. For those uncomfortable with the term 'Christmas celebrations', perhaps calling them 'Solstice' celebrations or even 'Pagan' celebrations would be a good alternative. Whatever we call it, thank goodness for the light and beauty and love that we surround ourselves with at this darkest time of year. Let's all raise a glass and toast the ancient Pagans sometime this season for without this celebration of light to break up the winter it would seem even longer.

Speaking of light, the colourful picture above features Cara, my daughter, dancing as the Sugar Plum Fairy a few years ago. She, and her sisters, are the ongoing 'light' in my life.
Namaste
Shelley

My Ultimate 'Fantasy' Adventure

About a year ago I listened intently as a friend described her trip to Rwanda and the guided trek she took into the mountains in order to spend an hour 'hanging' with a group of wild silverback mountain gorilla. I was fascinated with her story.

A few months later there was an article in our local paper describing much the same experience. Once again I was captivated by the story and tried to imagine what it would be like to stand five feet away from a 500 lb wild gorilla in his element, no bars between us, making eye contact with him and wondering if this was the day he would decide he was fed up with gawking tourists and become aggressive. Strangely, I'm not eager to come face to face with a bear on one of our local mountains, so why the desire to meet the gorilla?

Today there were two more accounts of the same wonderful experience in the Vancouver Sun. I read them, mesmerized. They described the excitement, the wonder, the thrill of watching a 2-yr-old gorilla showing off for them, pounding his chest so hard he fell over. It sounded much like the antics of so many 2 year old children I've known. How I yearn to experience such a wonder, and yet to do so I'd have to face some of my greatest fears.

I am not a risk taker. Never have been. Just travelling to Rwanda, adjusting to the culture and giving up my creature comforts would be a stretch for me. Add to that a hike that might be more strenuous than I could handle and the potential danger of actually coming face to face with these marvelous creatures ... well, I don't know if I could actually step onto the plane when I consider all of this.

And yet... there's just something about these magnificent beasts. After all, they share 98 % of our DNA. The Rwanda guides say it is like meeting your relatives. I imagine that is true. Apparently they look at you, really look at you, like a fellow human being, sizing you up. When I look at them in pictures their intelligent faces always make me pause. I feel I am looking into the eyes of someone familiar... almost a deja vu feeling. It's not like looking at a cat or dog. This is a fellow primate. Their expressions are so wise and thoughtful, so incredibly like one of us, yet not quite. Take a long look at the picture at the top of this post. Study his eyes. Do you not feel you 'know' this creature?

I often wonder... how did humans evolve away from this great beast, this creature who, unlike us, lives in complete compatibly with Mother Nature. Maybe we can find some answers in observing them, that is, as long as we don't pass on any of our diseases to them, and if the poachers don't get to the remaining 700 of them that are left on this planet...

Perhaps it is time to abandon my fears and plan my own trek. As we all know, life is too short to put off until tomorrow what we could do today.

Who's in?

Namaste

Santa's Elves Dropped By Today

Yesterday I came home emotionally drained and sad from visiting my mother in the hospital. To my surprise and delight I found a cheery elf here, busily decorating our home for Christmas. The Christmas carols were playing and she brought shimmering light to a very dark day.

Today I came home to find that two elves were now at it, finding ways to make our home look fresh and festive, a wonderful bright respite in yet another dark day.

I know these two elves will do what they can to help with the Christmas shopping too, should I call on them. Perhaps they are actually Christmas angels in disguise.

There is a third elf, an elf-in-training, who I know will step in with her own contributions when the time is right.

In these dark days of my mother's illness, I have been given the gift of light.

I am truly blessed.

Is it my imagination....

or does the Christmas frenzy start earlier and earlier each year? It is still November and my dear husband has already been to an office Christmas party!

I've never been much of a 'Christmas' person. There are just too many expectations at this time of year and most of these things I'm not good at. If I had my way, I'd 'unplug the Christmas machine' and create simple, family-centered traditions that wouldn't include shopping malls or racing from one event to another. However, when it comes to Christmas, I don't have my way.

But....

A couple of years ago I came across a list of Seasonal Strategies written by Harold Rosen who was then the minister of the North Shore Unitarian Church. With this list, Harold invites us to "look behind the all-too-familiar things, and see the Larger Reality they represent." I review this list at the start of each Christmas season and I'm now far more successful at keeping my "mental and spiritual health intact."

I offer Harold's list here, an early Yuletide gift for anyone who takes the time to read my blog.

May your ramp-up to Christmas be only as frantic as you wish it to be.

Season Of Symbols

Gifts - they are more than stuffed boxes covered with shiny paper and ribbons; they are tangible tokens of all those thoughtful things we wanted to 'do' for our loved ones and friends, all year long, but never got around to it.

Cards - the are more than donations to Hallmark and overtime pay for the postal service; they are humble hints of the much we'd like to say if only time, emotional strength and eloquence abounded.

Lights - they are more than electrical fire hazards and jobs for the handy-person in our midst; they conquer the darkness of season and soul with a glimpse of celestial spendour.

Carols - they are more than memory-markers and excuses for extra choir rehearsals; they are auditory proof that heaven is nigh, and that the layers of tradition can heal the layers of our pain.

Angels - they are more than plastic ornaments on trees... they are those whispers we hear just in time, saying "you have what it takes.' 'Good deeds can be fun.' 'Things pass, but Love abides' and 'all will turn out well, despite appearances.'

In peace,

Shelley

Creating an Animal Friendly World

"Teaching a child not to step on a caterpillar is as valuable to the child as it is to the caterpillar."

Bradley Miller



This picture and quote were taken from the Peta website.

http://www.peta.org/

So beautiful in its simplicity.

Nameste, Shelley

Gestation period of a book (or the neurosis of an author with a soon-to-be published book)

The gestation period of an elephant is 22 months. Those poor elephant mothers! But then elephant mothers aren't like human mothers. Unlike us they likely accept their condition without worry or anxiety. I doubt thoughts of 'what if?' run through their large elephant heads. They just carry on, accepting what is, feeling heavy with the weight but not stressing over it.

Human mothers stress over ever little ache, pain and twinge. Am I gaining too much weight? Not enough? Is my baby going to be healthy? Will it have all its fingers and toes? My ankles are swelling! What does it mean?? Hmm.... I'm quite sure elephant mom's don't worry about swollen ankles.

The gestation period of a book is almost as long as that of an elephant, and the author is plagued with as many worries as the human mom. As I get closer to the launch date of my spring '08 book, Gotcha!, I'm becoming more and more fretful. Did I tie up all the loose ends? Are the characters believable? Did I overwrite such and such a scene? Is the ending sappy? Flat? Is it a truly stupid story? Will the reviewers hate it? Should I withdraw the manuscript and send back my advance money??

I remember the final weeks before the birth of each of my daughters. I loved the feeling of the wee baby feet kicking against my abdomen, the baby hiccups, the image of my unborn child curled up inside of me. But did I ever worry! How would the birth go? Would there be complications? Would I be a good mother? Would my child be healthy?

It's hard to believe that a soon-to-be published book can be as anxiety-arousing as a new baby, but there really are many similarities. Like the mother about to enter the hospital, knowing she has to leave her dignity at the door, the author also feels vulnerable. And unworthy. The soon-to-be mother wonders if she is up to the task of raising a child. The author wonders if she has actually written a worthwhile story. Should the new mother have remained childless? Did the publisher make a big mistake in agreeing to publish the author's book?

I know intellectually that worry is a useless emotion. I also know that Gotcha! will find an audience, or not.

All three of my daughter have grown to be fine young women. They are each doing a wonderful job of making their own way in the world. Each of my books has done the same. I enjoyed writing them. Each story felt worthy enough to become a book as I wrote it. I have received wonderful feedback from readers that reassure me that the the paper they were printed on was not wasted. That's what matters in the end.

I hope that each of my daughters will strive to leave the world a better place, whether it is through kindness, wisdom or through one of their many talents. I also hope that each of my books will leave a positive imprint in the hearts and minds of my readers.

Nameste,

Shelley