Aching Fingers, Racing Thoughts

Lately all I’ve wanted to do is write. And write. And continue writing until this spill of thoughts & lessons & everything else in between is finally well-articulated & resolved on the screen.

If only it was that easy.

Fortunately & unfortunately (welcome to the ever-contradictory language of this writer!), I haven’t had the time or the energy to do that. Life has been quickly clipping along. Conversations, memories & moments keep sweeping in with a faint sense of spider web-like connections that I just can’t quite seem to grasp. It’s a lot to take in.

It’s odd. Have you ever encountered those moments when, on the surface, it seems like you’re not where you ought to be, yet everything inside of you is quietly saying “Yes, this is the moment. Stay here. Breathe here. Be here.”?

Everything inside of you is burning for a sign to be directed this way or that, but something, that indefinable sense of certainty, keeps whispering to you that you’re right were you ought to be, even if you don’t like it. Even it looks foolish or crazy or absurd to others. Somehow you just know that you are destined for something… deep & good… yet whatever that’s supposed to mean just refuses to reveal itself yet until its proper timing. You won’t be a face on billboards and surrounded by fawning photographers. Scores of people won’t be seeking you out for your great wisdom and to hear your sweet voice. This sense of inner greatness isn’t quite like that.

Rather, you just know that something is meant for you… you alone. Something great. Something wonderful. Something that is molded in such a way that suits you perfectly imperfectly. Your own brand of you-ness & fullness & rightness.  More than that, it’s not just about you, but how you are needed to make this world a better place. You contribute to the puzzle.

Really, it’s simple. You don’t need to be taken to the moon to feel rich. You don’t need flamboyant displays of celebration in honor of you. You don’t need bounties of riches. All you yearn for is deep joy & contentment.

At least that’s what I know I want… what my heart, my soul & body hungers for.

In the meantime, the writing continues.

I Corinthians 15:41 The sun has one kind of splendor, the moon another and the stars another; and star differs from star in splendor.

My weakest muscle

Last night one of my public relations professors spoke to my living community about life in the public relations field. Bill shared his own experiences in the field, suggested ways to hone our skills and encouraged us to find and focus on a niche. He also emphasized developing our strengths and not freaking out about our weaknesses.

I was relieved to learn that my future isn’t completely dismal because I’m not Miss Super PR Girl.

I’ve finally accepted that my skills in design and layout are lacking. I can stare at a computer screen for hours and try to make a publication look professional, crisp and modern. The end result? Possibly one or two text boxes and a lot of sent e-mails.

I admire those who can joyfully spend hours at the computer and make several fliers during that time. Their creative instinct with design and layout is fascinating.

Words offer me the creativity and freedom I can’t find with pictures and clip art. I’m honing my ability to link several words and phrases together to tell a story and deliver a message. I don’t know why, but pens, paper and books excite me more than photo albums or clip art ever have.

I salute those who can tell stories from images and angles. You have a creative muscle that may always be my weakest strength. In the meantime, please pass me the dictionary and thesaurus. My muscles are aching to work-out with the words.

Give me grammar or a red pen

I don’t understand why people often speak and write with poor grammar. How do they do it and not groan afterward?

Yes, spoken words are usually less grammatical than written words, but that doesn’t explain why a person would want to flaunt their ignorance.

How do they derive pleasure from abbreviating words so much that there is practically no meaning nor intellectual backbone to them? Why not just stick a sign on your forehead that says, “Yo I speak dumb (n I wanna b dumb)”? That may be harsh, but it seems they’re setting themselves up for failure and making it much more challenging for others to recognize their potential and capabilities.

I think that no matter what you’re saying, you’re communicating effectively. You’re communicating the message you want others to see and think, subconsciously or not. If you broadcast yourself as an idiot, don’t be surprised if people see you as one.

Perhaps I love grammar too much, but sometimes it’s a challenge to not whip out a red pen to edit and revise others’ words.