Writing Fuel

Since the beginning of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) in November I've been generating more words on paper than I have in speech! My change over to multiply has also made a difference in the word process. I seem to be putting up more focused content most of the time. I don't know if that is because the NaNoWriMo or because of Mulitply. Perhaps it is a bit of both.

I've been working on Hidden in the Mist (working title) because I have a reader hounding me to get to it. In the last couple of days some things have become more focused regarding the story. And it is about time, since my word count is over 45,000 but it has taken a year to get there! For those of you who don't have a clue about HITM I apologize. It would take too long to explain here but for those reading it (Alice) this might give you some insight.

This morning as I fixed a cup of Hazelnut coffee (Mmmmm, as Lisa says) I began to think about power. We all have power in us that is untapped, possibly because it is unknown to us. I don't mean mind bending or disappearing elephants magic. I mean mountain moving power that simply requires us to speak it or think it. The abiltiy to speak into existance things that weren't but are. There lies within each of us the ability to speak into existance good things or bad things. Motivation is what directs this power: why do we want something to exist? Negative reasons will create negative outcomes. Positive reasons will create positive outcomes. Do not come here and tell me this is impossible. I won't be deterred by the blind. You see, I've proved it too many times, both the negative and the positive. I KNOW it works.

So, as I drank my coffee and pondered my story I relized that this is what Mist is all about. Two worlds and untapped, unrecognized, misused power.

We live in a world that exist within worlds. It is a world suspended between two worlds and our world is a mixture of both. We hang between the two and are faced every day with the choice of which world we would like to inhabit.

One is a place of pollution, violence, anger, frustrations, murder, deceit, avarice, extortion, and disrespect. This world glows with a light that, from a distance, is alluring, exciting our senses. It is filled with unknown wonders; sights and sounds that please the eyes and ears and gorge the body. We are drawn to it's glittering promise, deeper and deeper until we step across the boundary into the unknown, a place that suddenly reveals that it is dark and frightening. We don't know how we got there and we can't find our way out. Every attempt sends us back into the dark. Only once in a while may we escape. But it has left it's mark.

The other world is a place of beauty, peace, harmony, respect and honor, a place where love abounds and brotherhood is in the air we breath. Every need is met. We have only to ask. It isn't shinning glittering towers of commerce, superficial decoration, and empty promises. It isn't a place of gluttony of the body but of satisfied spirit and mind. It is a place that glows with a light far brighter than any man can generate because the pollution doesn't exist. And once in awhile, we find our way there. We step across the boundary, into that world that seems at first glance, plain and untouched by progress. But, if we stay long enough, we realize that here is rest and sustenance that is constant. Here is peace and safety. None go lacking. We realize that this world is real and we can stay as long as we desire. We can leave whenever we want. And some do.

We are drawn to the one by our eyes. We are drawn to the other by our hearts. Occassionally, there are those who step into the real world with only one goal, to steal the hearts and draw us back through the Mist. It is a choice for each of us. How we choose will determine our course for eternity.

Choose wisely.

Worth a Thousand Words

We set off along the path that lead down to the church. The snow crunched beneath our feet and our breath hung in the air in clouds. The night was filled with that hush that one only hears during a heavy snowfall. Around us the trees creaked beneath the weight of snow and ice in their branches. Occasionally, we heard a snapping sound followed by a crash as a limb gave way beneath its load. Everything has a breaking point, I thought.

My heavy coat gave me a sense of warmth but everywhere the air touched was chilled. My cheeks felt frozen and my lips numb. The tip of my nose tingled. I pulled my scarf up, around my face, leaving only my eyes so I didn't fall down. I'd probably be all right if I did fall. The ground was like a feather bed.

We came out of the trees just west of the church, near Harper’s pasture. The moon was above the horizon and glowed in an opening in the clouds. I could see the church on the left and the Cooper place on the right. Their tall spruce decorated in colored lights that glowed against the snow frosted branches and turned the snow beneath it into a multicolored carpet from an some exotic land. Lights glowed from every window of the Cooper home and I could see Mr. Cooper's car in back. He must have closed the drug store early tonight because of the weather. Not many would venture out on a night as cold as this. They were a large family with half dozen children. Always when I walked by I could hear laughter or the wild chattering of playing children. It was a happy place. Even the snowman, in his scarf and slouch hat, wore a grin and waved.

I slipped my gloved hand into the crook of Tom's arm as we passed the end of the rail fence around the pasture. He smiled down at me and my heart leaped from the highest peak. He could still do that to me, after all this time. I slipped on a patch of ice and he steadied me, still smiling.

As we passed the church, Deacon James was leaving and he tipped his hat to us. Mr. Irving and his boy Billy slogged across the church yard toward the warmth of the sanctuary. It was such a lovely little church. I thought how much the windows looked like precious gems set in the walls. I suspected the windows of Heaven would look much like those windows, with their glowing jewels and the light of God illuminating them. As if to confirm it, in the stillness it seemed as if the voice of an angel floated out on the air and up the road, flowing among the houses and into the mountain valleys in the distance. It was Maggie O'Hara, singing O Little Town of Bethlehem with the choir. I doubted if any angle could utter notes as beautiful as Maggie.

The blanket of snow that lay over roofs and mountainside alike reflecting the silver of the moon created a strangely comforting landscape. I looked up the road and in the distance, I could see the lights of the other village houses along the hillside. We lived on the edge of town and from here, the warm, soft glow was as peaceful and serene as ever a place could be. We walked in silence past the church and as I hugged Tom’s arm, I thought there was no place on earth I’d rather be tonight than in this snow covered place, listening to an angel’s voice sing of the new Savior of the World.

In the Still of the Night

It is quiet in the house. There is no one at home but me. I've spent the day doing good deeds for others, getting home around 10:30 p.m.. I've bought gifts for one set of children and my grand-daughter and my spouse. I still have one son to go and a birthday gift for the other. He was born on Dec 30th, an annoyance to both of us. And I have to get my sister something special. She shopped with me tonight.

But now, the house is quiet and only the clicking of my keyboard can be heard. Rain has fallen all day and it is a small, cold drizzle at the moment. The promised snow storm has not appeared but there are a few flurries here and there. I suppose we should be thankful but I do love snow. We Southern Belles view it as a special treat designed just for us.

I've not been writing for several days now. I've been restless and unable to forment a thought. So, here I sit, in the stillness of the midnight trying to convey what I am thinking. There is something about midnight that I really love. I tend to be a night owl and this is one of my favorite times. The world has all drifted off on whatever dreams they dream. The racous glare of the day has slipped into a quiet darkness that I can wrap about my shoulders like a velvet cloak and stroll along silent streets that echo the sound of my heels. Or I can simply sit here, in my dimly lit study and write about the cushion of darkness that buffers me from the harsh reality of the daylight.

Perhaps that is what I really like about the midnight hour. All the troubles of the day, the trials and tribulations of dealing with people or just the trauma of survival are somehow lessened in the down-filled darkness where the gentle twinkle of stars and a silver orb lull one into a sense of peace.

Dreams are dreamt at night because the intrusion of reality is weakened at night and the mind can race along paths never opened in the light of day. God is closer at night. I think it is why more people die at night. It's true, you know, they do. Ask the hospitals. I don't believe they are giving up because the darkenss overwhelms them. I think their bodies struggle in the light of day to survive but with the coming of midnight, they find that, in the stillnes of the night, is a sense of peace that becomes a stronger draw than survival.

I'm going to bed soon and dream some dream that will be driven back by the rising of the sun. Another day to survive until the still of the night returns.

Top of the Hill

Ah, Wednesday. Standing at the top of the hill looking down is an awesome sight. If I look behind me there is a pile of stuff back there. Best be careful and not tip over or I'll end up back at the bottom!

But forward, well, it's a steep road down. I don't have much head for heights anymore. (Me the tree climbler and roof runner. That's another day's story.) And there is just as much stuff on the downhill side as there was on the uphill side. Thing just go faster on the downhill side. I just have to check the wheels on my skates. Yep, they are running smooth as silk. It isn't my equipment but the debris in the road that is the killer!

We had a case manager leave and they distributed her case load between the five remaining case managers. That leave me with 365 case files. In additiion to the landlord accounts. I've getting buried quickly, particularly since the girl who left has files no one wanted because they are such a mess.

However, God gave me this job a long time ago and as long as I am here I guess He still wants me to do it. So, {rolling up sleeves and pushing back hair} here goes.

Several have said a prayer for me and I do appreciate it. My husband suggested I stay home today and it sounded nice. But no sick time! So, here I am at the top of the hill. My pain level has been horrible. My back is in pretty bad shape today. It has been building for several days and last night it was at the point I considered going to the doctor. Shoulders are bad, particularly the left. My knees, oddly enough, are much better. I guess the Y helped on Monday night. They just are very stiff. I lower legs feel as if I have shin splints but LOL, I haven't done anything to cause it! I need to go back tonight but my back really is not good at all and has spread from the lower back all the way to my shoulders. What is it like? Hmmmm, someone took a rolling pin and pounded me on the back with it, all but the place in my lower back that feels like a knife is sticking in it.

Ok enough of the complaints. I hate whining over aches and pains but some days this is the only place to pour it out. And some things are better for you if you pour it out rather than keep in it.

I got my leave approved for Christmas. I have 11, count them, ELEVEN days off. I just took three vacation between Christmas and New Years. When I get off on December 21, I don't have to be back here until January 2, 2008!

I wasn't going to take it because of all the work but I finally decided it was going to be here whether or not I am here. It isn't going anywhere. So, I'll be taking that vacation time.

So, with all that said, I'll start my journey down the hill. Someone move that log out of the way! Here I go! YeeeeeeeeeHaaaaaaaawwwwwww!

Beyond Endurance

Somehow a rainy Monday is a nice way to start a week. I always like waking up on Monday to rain. I know, that's crazy but it seems to me such an awful day must have a redeeming quality if it starts with rain. There is something cozy about rain and any day with rain feels less painful.

Although, today and all weekend the rain has probably been the reason for my elevated pain levels. I have a doctor's appt this morning at my rheumatologist, not that it will do any good. I wish I could wear a heated coat.

I took four hours vacation time for this morning so I could do this appointment but probably won't need it all. I will go in to work as soon as it is over and spend the rest of the day doing work I should have done on Saturday.

I sat on the edge of my bed this morning an realized what my problem, well at least one of my problems is. I've been praying for strength for years. And you know, I have people tell me, "You are so strong. I don't know how you handle all you are handling. I couldn't do it." I realized, sitting on the edge of my rumpled bed in my p.j.s that the way you gain strength is by adding weight. Each time you reach a comfort level, you add weight. Once you can lift that weight comfrotably, you add more. Duh! Basic weight training.

The strange thing about all this realization stuff is that I went to bed praying to understand what was wrong. I was asking for answers to questions to which God never seems to respond. But when I woke up, the answer was there. You see, every time something got heavy, I'd pray for strength. The load only got heavier. I never prayed for patience, but when you are carrying a heavy load, patience is required so it is a secondary effect of the training. It takes time to build strength. Patience isn't a problem when strength is the goal.

It was at that point in my revelation that I decided now's a good time to stop praying for strength. I'm tired. I don't want to lift any more weight. I want someone else to carry the load for a while. I don't want to bear anyone's burden. I don't want to solve anyone's problem. I don't want to carry anyone. I want a place to rest and sit down while someone else gets strong, I don't even want to be strong anymore. Every weight trainer has a limit. You can work toward that limit and even strive to go beyond it but there is a point in time when the body builder reaches a maximum limit. They can do irreparable damage trying to go beyond their enduance.

So now, my body is breaking down from the weight. I can't carry any thing else. The result of too much weight is stress. The stress is probably the biggest factor in the pain I have. When I am off work for any length of time, I feel better in 24 hours. When I take a vacation from my family I feel better in 24 hours.

So, I guess I got an answer. I don't know if it is what I wanted to hear but at least I understand the cause. I just don't know how to fix any of it. Story of my life. When that happens, I've always asked for strength.

Not today.