21 February 2014

Five Minute Friday - Small

Five-Minute Friday writing fun-ercise from Lisa-Jo Baker 
Prompt: Small

Today I was scheduled to be at a conference. I’ve attended this conference for the past three years, but this, the fourth year, my enthusiasm is waning. After dropping 'the kid' off at the airport this morning I started making my way through town to get to the location of the conference. I missed the exit from the freeway. I went the wrong way off the second exit. Siri had to guide me to the location. Once there, it was another ten minutes before I found which building I was supposed to be at. But even after I checked in and was sitting in the second (my first) small group session, I wasn’t sure that I had found where I was supposed to be – not really. I listened to stories and struggled with feeling small. Why am I here? My small life isn’t making an impact. Am I willing to abandon my life and move to faraway lands to make a difference? My faith is too small, my vision too small, my selfishness too big.

Perhaps, I am not too small – but rather I have not found where I belong; I have changed and no longer fit, not too small just a different shape.

Note to self - Don’t compare mandarins to grapefruits, and judge yourself small, you’re just different. 

{side note: I left for the lunch break, and just didn't quite make it back. I found a sunny spot at my favorite tea shop and a warm, delicious sweet mug of chai and decided to take care of myself.}

07 February 2014

Writing as Shoveling

Five-Minute Friday writing fun-ercise from Lisa-Jo Baker 

Prompt: write

Today is a snow day, a beautiful, white, quiet, work from home, snow day. While cozied up under a blanket, working away, and drinking cup after cup of tea. I could hear a neighbor shoveling and my heart was saddened that someone would want to do away with the snow, blemish it, and toss it aside. Looking out the side window of my front door I saw my neighbor Bob, not only shoveling his driveway but our whole alley way. My annoyance at his dislike of the snow was melted by his generous heart to serve all of us in the building. An hour later I decided to go for a walk, to get fresh air and enjoy the snow first hand. Bob was still out there shoveling. We chatted and I teased him that he was fighting a losing battle; the area where he had started was already blanketed with fresh snow. He knew that it would need to be done again in the morning, but that it would be easier than doing it all at once. And it struck me that writing isn’t so very different than shoveling snow. Sometimes it needs to be broken down into manageable tasks, just when you think an area is done you need to go back and do it again covering the same ground again and again, that it can often be an act of service to others, but also, sometimes, it can wait until morning.