Enjoy It, It's Free

The sun dazzled me this morning and the sub-zero air made me fully aware of my lungs. With each gulp of it I felt more vital, more alive. The grays and browns of winter's landscape dissolved in the technicolor brightness beyond the windshield. I smiled all the way to the gym.

In many ways, today felt like the New Year. The kids were back in school, and our daily routine replaced the loosy-goosy, time-has-no-meaning lolly-gagging of vacation. Don't get me wrong, I love staying in my jammies all day long. But after a couple weeks, this schedule-oriented woman was ready to get back on track.

Into the second mile on the treadmill, a personal trainer new to our gym arrived with her client. The trainer is a tall, muscular woman whose stature and gait make her more handsome than pretty. Her client was a doughty woman in her early fifties, quite possibly attempting to fulfill her newest resolution. I give her snaps for the effort, and I wish her luck sticking with a program. But she wasn't my focus as I jogged along.

The trainer was awesome! She kept the woman moving from exercise to exercise, huffing and puffing through each set. The woman didn't look happy, but the trainer stayed upbeat and wouldn't indulge her in laments. She counted out the reps, added "Come on!" and hand claps between numbers. "You can do it" became her mantra, and each time she said it, she used her voice like a musician uses his instrument, changing keys and altering tones, until the client was laughing, in spite of herself. I wanted to tell the trainer she rocks, but I worried she'd use the introduction as an invitation to sell me some sessions.

I'm no personal trainer, but I know my way around a gym. I've been working out regularly for a long time, and the last eight years I've trained with my workout partner and best friend. Even if none of that were true, I still wouldn't find money to squeeze out of our well-wrung budget for something like that. As I ran past the 2.25 mile marker, the trainer started me thinking about a play I watched Sidney's class put on last month.

Two classrooms of fourth grade children participated in the production of "The Baker's Neighbor." It was an adorable story with a cast of ten, and each of the three acts starred another group of children, cast in those same ten roles. That way, everyone had a chance to be on stage. I cracked up when a girl played the role of the baker in the second act, donning a large black mustache cut from construction paper, scotch taped to her upper lip.

Briefly, the story opens with the baker selling his famous sweetbread goods. A local named Pablo arrives, like he does every day, and simply stands in the shop, smelling the cakes. The baker realizes although Pablo isn't eating his baked creations, he is enjoying them, without paying anything. The baker tries to charge Pablo for sniffing the air.

I thought about this play while I was watching the trainer, feeling motivated by her energy, wanting to copy all her exercises. I didn't want to pay her, but I figured if I worked out near her, I'd get many of the same benefits as if I had. I was Pablo!

I spent about two laps on the virtual track worrying I was a terrible person, until I realized something else. The trainer was so inspirational because she was totally committed to what she was doing. She was joyful, living out loud, making the room brighter with her presence. That's what I wanted to emulate, not her workout routine, but the way she approached her life.

She left before I finished my three miles, but when I see her next, I'm going to introduce myself -- and not as Pablo, either!

Writing (Down) Goals

There's a creative writing contest held every January at http://www.writing.com/ called "Dear Me..." The gist of the contest is simple: Compose at letter of intent to yourself, outlining your writing goals for the new year. In the two years I've been a site member, I haven't competed in the contest. This year, though, I'll take a stab at it.

The format for my letter is taking shape in my mind. That's been one of the hurdles of past years; I've never been able to articulate my goals or find the right voice. Now, that forward motion I talked about in my first blog entry, that unexplainable momentum carrying me in a destined direction, is again holding the reins.

I pulled a card today from the Crystal Tarot pack. I do this from time to time, for fun, to see what in my perception at that moment can be mirrored in the card. I pulled La Lune, the moon. The card indicates an uncertain future but one to embrace, come what may. It's a complicated card with contradictory interpretations, and I can identify with both the positive aspects of illuminating the darkened path before me with unwavering optimism, as well as the negative aspects of being consumed by unfounded self-confidence and being led astray by it. Today, with La Lune in hand, the "Dear Me..." contest seems more important than ever.

Outlining goals in a format destined for an audience's eyes goes one step beyond merely stating my resolutions. It becomes a sort of pack with myself, a binding contract signed, sealed and delivered. The excitement I feel tells me what I need to know: trusting my instincts on this point is a very good thing.

Listing the Essentials

Slowly but surely, I'm getting more comfortable with the blog format. I haven't quite found my "blog-voice." I'm a bit like a novice singer in her first voice classes, practicing the scales and skill of projecting her song. I've enjoyed visiting other member's blogs, often going from one page to another by clicking the followers or links to favorite sites. With each stop I pick up more ideas to possibly incorporate here. Like all living things including artistic endeavors, this project's sure to evolve.
I found an interesting entry today. Penny offered her List of the 12 Things All Writers Need. It got me thinking about what's most important to me when I'm writing, and I came up with my own list:

My List of 12 Things I Need as a Writer

A reliable computer/word processor – When thoughts come fast and furious, my pen just can’t keep up.

http://www.dictionary.com – I love the ease of clicking back and forth between dictionary and thesaurus.

A quiet workspace

Piping hot cups of black coffee

My sister, Noelle- Happy New Year! (86) , who is always willing to help me flesh out a character or debate the necessity of a comma.

http://www.writing.com -- The BEST online writing community where I've come to rely on everyone's helpful, supportive critiques.

A hot shower – I don’t know why, but when I get stuck connecting plot points, the shower is the place where inspiration hits me. (Do they sell waterproof paper and pen yet?)

Chocolate – Okay, I try not to eat chocolate when I write, but it deserves a spot on any list of life’s essentials.

The current issue of Glimmer Train -- Nothing wakes my uninspired muse like reading brilliant writing from successful authors.

My Gratitude Stone – Thirteen years ago I found a piece of sea glass on the shore of the Mediterranean Sea. It’s smooth and curved so my thumb lays perfectly in the groove. I hold it when I count my blessings, and when I commune with my characters and ponder their dilemmas.

Post-It notes – for those moments of genius I don’t want to forget to include in future (or past) chapters.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, the support of my hubby and kids. On the (rare) days when I don’t have that, you can be sure I won’t be writing.


Making this list, and others like it, helps me reconnect with myself and the methods to my madness. I feel inspired to get writing. Are you a creative writer? What essentials are on your "writer's" list? And if you are of another profession, what's on your list of the most important things for your work or life? I'd love to read it!

Have a fab day, everyone!



Visit me at:


http://nicoleducleroir.blogspot.com/
http://www.inkspot.com/authors/heftynicki

Welcome 2010

Here are some pics from last night!

For the fourth year in a row, we hosted a New Year's soiree at our house with our friends who live on the street. None of us wants to be out there driving on a party holiday like December 31st, and we have such a blast when we're all together -- and last night was no exception!

Here were those in attendence:

My awesome husband!

My daughter, the lovely Sidney

My son, rocking out!

Yvonne and Bill are great friends!  Yvonne's laugh puts a smile in my soul, and Bill's hilarious, dry sense of humor keeps us all laughing.  Our political conversations are always some of my favorite moments because the positions people take, whether from their personal belief platform or devil's advocate soap box, never fail to be interesting and thought-provoking.  I had a blast with them last night!!

 

Shely and Frank are fab friends!  Shely's a better hostess than I am (LOL).  I feel kinda bad for giving Frank such a hard time last night about not asking a certain famous person for his autograph -- I loved seeing the pics of the memorabilia basement on his laptop, though.  I always have so much fun with these two, and last night was no exception!!

And, all our wonderful kids:

Sidney and Miles

Billy

Terry and Alex

Cody and Sidney

Girl Power!

Me, Shely and Yvonne

New Years is always a time of reflection for me -- a time to look back and look forward, but I'm happy to say I don't have near as many resolutions this year as in the past.  I have a super family, wonderful friends, good health -- what else is necessary?  In the spirit of always improving my life experience, I plan to concentrate on the positives in my everyday life.  I want to wake each morning with intention, deciding how I will seek out the happiness and beauty around me.   One day, for example, I'll notice every smile I see, directed at me or elsewhere.  Another day, I'll spend more time listening than talking.  I want 2010 to be the year I focus on the little pleasures that are oftentimes ignored in the throes of everyday bustle.  That's my resolution.

Relative Importance

Cody and Sidney, Christmas 2009

Last night, a mixture of rain and sleet slapped at the windows, but I heard above the racket the sound of her sobs. A mother's instincts are sharp, and as I strode toward Sidney's bedroom I heard the rational part of my mind reassuring my instinctual self that nothing truly threatening could have happened. Afterall, I'd just tucked Sidney's purple comforter under her chin and splattered her face with silly kisses a couple minutes before. Still, I made it down the hall in three strides.

When I got to Sid's room, her light had been turned back on. Cody was leaning over her in the bed, stroking her face and asking why she was crying. The look of concern in his eyes when he turned them on me made my soul smile. Growing up, I always wished I'd had an older brother, someone who would take care of me. I realized I'd been imagining Cody all those years ago.

I hugged my son and thanked him for being him, and sent him back to bed. By then, Sidney was on her feet, her head tilted slightly back, her body wracked with sobs. I took her in my arms and just hugged her, realizing I'd have to wait until she calmed down a little before I'd learn what the problem was. The rain pelted the windows at a faster pace, but Sidney's tears finally subsided.

It turned out that as part of the Gifted Program at school, Sidney was responsible for reading a 300-page book over Christmas Break. I remember her complaining about the story a couple weeks ago, which she described as boring. I guess the craziness of holiday activities and cram-packed schedules made both of us forget all about the reading assignment. Until last night.

I clicked off the light and followed Sid under the covers when she crawled back into bed. We worked out a plan to get as much of the book read between now and Jan. 5th when school resumes. We're going to partner read, her reading two pages silently, then I'll read aloud for the next two pages. Every couple minutes, Sidney's little face would scrunch up again and the tears would leak from her swollen eyes. She is a child devastated when she feels she hasn't done all that she expected of herself. We whispered in the dark through each meltdown relapse, promising ourselves to do better and remind each other of the project. Eventually I felt her body go limp and her breathing deepen.

I lay there a couple minutes longer, listening. The sound of Sidney's breath, the rain on the window, and the muffled noise of the television in the next room gave me an incredible feeling of childhood nostalgia. I used to lie in bed and dream about the future. The memories were so close; it seemed like just yesterday. And then I looked through the darkness at Sidney's angelic profile. Now for my future, I want to be more like my daughter. She cares so deeply about what's happening in her life. Her commitment to the present is absolute. She reminds me of how I can be a better me.

I should sign off here......we have a book to read.
Peace.

Thanks, Tonya!

It seems getting the settings straight when starting up a blog can be a challenging, tedious process. Thank you, Tonya, for helping me today!!

Where to Start When There's No Clear Beginning?

Compelled. That's how I feel these days, as if there’s something drawing me to its hiding place just over the next rise in Life's road. The attraction is strong. I’m in motion. My internal navigator, though, has closed her eyes. She trusts in the momentum she can’t understand or control. I have to follow her lead, for I know fighting it would be futile.

Here’s what I do know: When you want something very badly, so much so that you can actually see it sitting in your hands when your imagination looks down, then it will be. When I’m most in tune with the world around me, I easily perceive the signs pointing me in the right direction, toward the next goal. With that belief, that knowledge in mind, I embark on this blogging journey.

Last month during NaNoWriMo (info is below for those interested), I wrote nineteen chapters of my first novel. They are rough as a mountain river bed, but the ideas flowing through are full of energy and intrigue. My professional goals in 2010 include completing the first draft, and then working through rewrites and revisions. I may find this book won’t be marketable. But I’m compelled, (there’s that word again), to finish it. The project figures in, somehow, with the hidden thing lurking just below the horizon.

The idea for this blog came to me in the form of multiple signs woven lately into my everyday life. My good friend and next door neighbor, Miss T, blogs here. I’ve admired for a year her strong memoir-style writing and commitment to her readers, but yesterday, sitting in my kitchen, she let fly one of those signs that hit me square between the eyes. She’s decided to use the create-a-book option once a year, to archive her blog entries in book form. Brilliant! I thought. This pushed the quiet, wallflower thoughts I’d been unconsciously harboring since watching Julie&Julia over the Christmas break into the brightly lit chambers of my consciousness. Suddenly, I wanted to blog!

You wouldn’t think a creative writer would have trouble coming up with a theme for her blog, but at first I was stumped. I want this blog to have a raison d’être. Julie blogged her way through Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking, and I wanted to have some kind of focus as well. Since the New Year is upon us, I feel compelled, yet again, to choose a resolute direction.

Each time I add an entry, I will write about one significant moment that affected me deeply. It may be something that happened in the past, but I don’t want to look back too often. Instead, I want to be present in my life, living today with open arms, open mind, and an open heart. In 2010, I want to live each day with intent. I will indulge in random acts of kindness and write about how the experiences affected me and the others around me. Through this blog, I want to become a more joyful and positive human being, and a better writer.

And so I take a deep breath, stretch my arms open wide, and begin.


Note: NaNoWrimo stands for National Novel Writing Month. www.nanowrimo.org hosts the contest every year, in which participants sign up determined to write 50,000 words in the thirty days of November. I learned a lot about turning off my internal editor and letting my muse run free. You can visit my NaNo profile page and read as excerpt from my book, just
Click Here.