Tag … You’re It ~ Writing about Writing

Having committed to participating in the Blog Tagging ~ Writing about Writing event, I needed to tag 3 other writers. I immediately thought of Jenn PoniatowskiLynn Pollaine Miclea, and Michele Truhlik.  They all agreed to participate!  Please enjoy their musings!

First up, Jenn Poniatowski!

Jenn is a writer, full-time mom and an everyday shaman. She most recently completed an amazing nine month period of study in Robin Rice’s program, “Healing with Presence and Beauty,” learning deeply about the soul and ways to access wholeness. Her for10506944_467885923314147_5687932639669656999_omal education is in the field of marine biology and you’ll find her love of all things of the sea to flavor her writing. Some of Jenn’s favorite stories in mythology come from ancient Norse and Celtic sources. For more, you are invited to visit and subscribe to her blog/website at FairyMotherMedicineWoman. First chapters of works in progress the Sea Witch and Morrigan’s Apprentice are posted there! Also find Jenn’s essay on new motherhood, Isabel, published in Igniting Hearts, Inspiring Hope, book published by Stories of Women and her contributing articles at www.wild-woman.com

Enjoy her post here Blog Tag

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Next up ~ Michele Truhlik!

Michele is a writer, blogger and small business entrepreneur.   Previously an owner of an advertising agency and a bar, she currently has a dog-sMichele Truhlik & Picasso (2)itting business and a jewelry business and is much happier being out of the corporate world. Following her calling she is currently studying as an Animal Chaplain/Pet Shaman and will be officially credentialed and ordained in 2015. She has been rescuing and adopting greyhounds since 1999 and has been owned by 8 greyhounds. You can find her blogging about dogs and life at angelsbark.wordpress.com. For more about Michele, see her AboutMe page.

Enjoy her post!  http://angelsbark.wordpress.com/2014/08/18/writing-about-writing/

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My finally participant is Lynn Pollaine Miclea!

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Having recently retired and discovering newly-found free time, Lynn has unveiled and developed a passion for writing. She has written numerous poems and short stories, and she is currently in the process of publishing her first book. Lynn currently lives in the Los Angeles area with her husband and two small dogs.

For more information about Lynn, please visit her blog at www.lynnpuff.wordpress.com

A Big Thanks to Jenn, Michele, & Lynn for being willing participants!  Tag-On 🙂

Writing about writing …

I was invited to participate in a Blog Tagging event. Since my writing has really slowed down I thought this would be a great motivator. It did more than that 🙂

I thank Sora Garrett at The Shine Connection  for her piece on Writing about Writing (click the Shine Connection link), the invite, and the nudge to return to my writing.

What are you currently working on?

A book, can you believe it?  I never thought I would be writing a book.  I was always the oOld fashioned vintage typewriterne who saw that talent, that ability in others and prompted them to be the writers.  Apparently I have a book or two in me waiting to be written.  I also have a “journal” on my website www.tericonnolly.com that I do post in pretty regularly. It is where I share my deep philosophical and spiritual musings. I really enjoy sharing that part of me.

How does your work differ from others in the same genre?

My work differs because I share very intimate, naked pieces of me. I share my vulnerability mixed with very dry humor.  I am so very new to all of this “writing” that I really don’t know my genre 🙂  Which takes me to the next question…

Why do you write what you write?

I write because I was always a storyteller verbally sharing anecdotes of life as examples of being human and to help others. I hesitated to use writing to express those stories mainly because I never thought of myself as a writer ~ storytellers don’t write I thought. Now I know writers are storytellers. I have also found that writing connects me to a higher deeper essence of myself that expresses through me. I learn just as much from my writing as others have expressed they have learned. Writing is now a part of me. I have fun and feel energized by the process especially completing a piece.

Describe your writing process.

My writing process is very simple. I sit at the computer, ask for a subject, and then get out of the way of the higher deeper essence that expresses through me. When I am done writing I am always amazed at what has been written!!  I started my book by looking at a naked urn sitting on the patio at the home I was renting.  I picked up my pencil and words just tumbled out.  This process is the same for everything I have written.  I do get ‘blocked’ and find nothing flowing.  It is then that I have to write out deliberate thoughts unclogging the hollow bone.

 

Now I get to share 3 other writers with you!  Stay tuned you are going to love them!

 

When You’re Okay and Everyone Else is Not

Be the Peace that you are…. Thanks Lori and much love

The Awakened Dreamer

woman2My healthy, athletic 60-year-old husband had a stroke four days ago. He collapsed while visiting his elderly parents in a a small town at least an eight hour drive from Vancouver–as the story goes, he stood up from the sofa to head toward the dining room for dinner and felt dizzy.

Next thing he knew he was regaining consciousness on the floor, bleeding from a head wound that would later require stitches. He soon realized he could not move his right arm and leg. Needless to say, his parents called an ambulance.

I got word of what was happening almost immediately–his mom called his son, who Facebook messaged me. (One of the blessings of FB, I suppose). A flurry of calls ensued: I spoke with his distraught mother. I called his daughter. I emailed a few of his closest friends. And I reached out to all the healers we know for long-distance…

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#AtoZChallenge Reflection

We were asked to reflect upon our 26 days of blogging for the #AtoZChallenge.

I have to say it was a challenge to write each day!  It was my very first structured, what usually works with me, daily writing on unplanned subjects.  There were words written down for each letter but I really had no strategy.  Well, that’s not true.  I had a strategy to just get through it.

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Being completely naive about blogging and its culture, I was really in Spanish immersion.  I visited sites every day sometimes two or three but had difficulty in finding a place on Blogspot to like the pieces.  I found myself spending more time reading the variety of sites than writing my own.  Towards the end I found myself only visiting WordPress sites where I could indicate a visit.  Now I am spending time on all the ones I wasn’t able to hit.

As the challenge progressed I found motivation from those who visited my posts.  Everyday I began to see regular visitors who gave me confidence in my writing.  I am more confident but I still don’t sense myself in my writing.  I know that probably sounds funny.  It will change I know as I continue writing.  This has been a very amazing experience.  I have learned how much I do like to write.  I will probably be back next year; maybe a tad wiser and at least more seasoned.

To all who stopped by during this challenge I deeply thank you.  Yes, you were the light at the end of the tunnel for me.  Mostly you were my muse and touched me more than I think you realized.  Through your visits I grew and gained a sense of community in a very large world.  Each of you embodied the essence of “Being Nice”.  Thank you!  To the organizers of this challenge, Bravo!  It was such a great experience to enter an entirely different world, make new friends, and discover more of me.

Congrats to everyone who made it to the end!

Zzzzz the last but not least

This commitment for the month of April to blog came out of the blue for me.  A real beginner at the writing genre and calling myself a writer, I felt the #BloggingAtoZChallenge would be a perfect start for me.  It was a challenge to say the least.  Today is our last letter and our last challenge day.  It is a bittersweet moment.  I have been introduced to so many amazing bloggers.  The visitors to my blog have widened my world.  Thank you!!  To those who have completed this challenge We Rock!!

file0001969012862ZZZZzzzzz, the sound of someone sleeping.  Oh the sweet disturbing confirmation of no one being present to us.  It is a conundrum.  Do we stop the misery, our misery, and wake them from their slumber?  Do we nudge just ever so slightly in hopes of their own awakening?  Perhaps the pillow will dull the sensations but alas we are disappointed.  Why is the only symbol for someone sleeping ZZZzzzz?  Is it  significant as the last letter of the alphabet?

This word, if we seriously call it that, is so representative of life events that can alter lives.  It destroys relationships.  It is not exclusive.  Holds no prejudice, lacks humor (well for some) and has been known to arrive at decibels off the richter scale.

 

file0001104767429It has a softer side.  The faint sound of our babies sleeping.  Their soft murmur brings us twinges of a deep love.  As we gaze upon the face of someone sleeping there is a tenderness, a sense of departure, and wishfulness.  We innately know they have gone somewhere without us.  They can’t be followed.  Watching we long to engage in our journey.  The journey that awaits us when we sleep.  Upon all our sleeping faces is the events of our nightly journeys.

 

For so many, the sounds emitted, reflect a language unlike no other and we wish they would just shut-up and keep it to themselves.

Adeiu, Farewell, Buenas Noches, I hope your time spent here with me has not led to ZZZZZzzzzz.  Thank you for visiting.  I will continue writing.  It seems I have a knack.

Z

 

Yesterday

The Beatles came at the beginning of my formative years.  I have older siblings so there was other music introduced to me before the Beatles.  I liked some of their earlier stuff but never quite got into the screaming, hormonal condition of so many fans.  Previously music was not so much about the lyrics for me as it was about the notes.  Playing an instrument in school gave me the opportunity to feel into the music itself.  There were lots of songs I sang around the house, singing parts with mumbled sounds when the words escaped me, dancing with the record covers in my hands so the words were close, and then there was one song whose phrases just stuck.

“Yesterday ”

All my troubles seemed so far away,
Now it looks as though they’re here to stay,
Oh, I believe in yesterday……

There’s a shadow hanging over me,
Oh, yesterday came suddenly.

I knew this was about a love gone wrong but that is not what I heard or what struck me deepest.  I was 12.  The concept of love that had come and gone was non-existent.  I hadn’t been bitten yet!  It was the concept of ‘Yesterday’.  How it was a specific time in space.  It wasn’t just about memories.  It marked events.  It could mark you.  It carried a “Danger, Will Robinson, Danger sign.  It became a rite of passage for me.  “Yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away.”  Yet there was another aspect to Yesterday.  It could change today and tomorrow.  It could return to haunt you or drive you further.  It was something to be reckoned.  It could stop you.  You could get stuck in it.

Allowing yesterday to determine your identity left you stuck and only partial of the self you were.  It does become a shadow, casting out the light of today, the mist of tomorrow, holding you captive.  There is an art to turning yesterday into today.  It isn’t an art only open to lyricists, painters, and writers.  Oh no, it is available to all who want to live to the fullest possible self.

As others fell deeper in love with John, Paul, and George I fell to pondering their lyrics and those of others.  I took to analyzing all songwriters as my world grew.  What were they doing with these lyrics?  Where they writing with a higher energy bringing metaphors and symbols to waken me, stop me in my tracks, push and pull me when I grew tired, or were they just singing what I felt deep inside.  There were some genres I did not resonate with no matter how often I listened.  Some music struck me but the words repulsed me.  It was those who wrote with the same cadence of essence as “Yesterday”.  The same mysticism in the lyrics of that song appeared in other songwriters.  It was those songs that stuck a chord deep within me.  A chord that cautioned me on miring myself deeper when I should be moving forward.  Years later I can still feel that mark of time, that essence of those simple lyrics whenever it is played.

Music played its secondary roll of fun, stages, and road trips all through my life as it does for all of us.  I can dance for hours, sing at the top of my lungs completely out of tune, joyous in the moment every time I hear music.  It brings back days of youth, special occasions, love won and lost but it is the mysticism that holds my soul.  It is the timelessness, the universality and connectedness.

Awake your soul!  Let Yesterday be yesterday!

Y

 

 

 

Xylophone

xylo tree branches

Once upon a time in a world far, far away there lived a tiny xylophone.  His world was filled with many trees and special rocks.  No one spoke and not a sound was made.  Every day he woke and looked up through the trees to the bright blue sky.  He hoped that one day he would find another tiny xylophone just like him.  Days and weeks passed still no one came.  The silence sat heavy upon his ears.

Early one morning a limb fell from the tall oak above him nearly hitting him. Angered by this sudden disruption the rocks gathered around the limb edging closer to tiny Xylo.  Unable to move he tried desperately to make himself  tinier than he could ever remember.  Fearing he would be hurt by the rocks anger he kept very still.  Barely breathing and hoping soon someone would come find him.

Xylophone

Days flowed into nights for Xylo.  He watched closely as the rocks and fallen limb danced in confrontation.  Unable to find an escape from them he decided to settle down and watch.  The daily bickering created smaller lengths of wood from the limb.  There was much chaos that created sounds that both repelled and drew him closer.  Fearing he would be injured in the altercations Xylo hung back.  The rocks continued their assault on the limb breaking more pieces and severing them into smaller pieces.  As night grew dark Xylo fell sleepy, unable to keep his eyes open, sighing he settled into his corner.

The rocks drawing strength from their bravery advanced for a final battle hoping to push the limb completely out of their area.  Xylo exhausted from fear closed his eyes and slept.  The scuffling of the rocks lulled him deeper.  Swaying with the noise he noticed a tiny tingling sound joining the scuffling.  Unable to determine its origin, he slept on swaying to the rhythm of the sounds, heading into dreamland.  He dreamt he was a mighty xylophone tall as the trees above him and solid as the rocks.  He knew his destiny in the dream.  Grasping for anything to make this dream real he determined that no longer would he be frightened by anything that surrounded him.  He determined that when he woke up he would grow to be the best xylophone he could ever imagine and then some.

What dreams are you reluctant to grasp and live?  Go out and exceed your expectations!

X