Author Archives: jillsalahub

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About jillsalahub

Writer & Contemplative Practice Guide holding space for people cultivating a foundation of a stable mind, embodied compassion and wisdom. CYT 500

What I Learned from My Dad

As I mentioned in my post on Mother’s Day, in so many ways, I am my father’s daughter. Stubborn, strong, creative, sensitive, intelligent, introverted, pensive, easily irritated and hurt, critical, and funny, (at times, what some might call a “smart ass”). Again, I offer you these two pictures as some measure of proof.

Dad, being a Christmas Ham

me, being a thanksgiving turkey

But there’s so much more to it than that. I think my Dad would agree that over the years our relationship has been complicated, but that’s because we are complicated people. Sometimes we drive each other nuts, make each other angry even, but we love each other like crazy (at times, heavy on the crazy).

What I’ve Learned from My Dad:

  1. How to figure things out. Being smart is something I inherited from both my parents, but what I got specifically from my dad is a mix of curiosity and intelligence and patience (which might look like stubbornness) that enables me to learn and understand things, fairly quickly and profoundly. My dad is wicked smart, is the kind of person who knows how to fix just about anything, can listen to a car running and know almost immediately what might be wrong with it, is interested in how things work, and why things are the way they are. He knows immediately when the logic of an argument or position isn’t working, when there is a fundamental flaw or someone is lying or there’s simply no common sense at work. He made his living as a mechanic, but I think if he’d been born during my generation, he would have been a computer person, an IT Specialist or a Computer Scientist, or at the very least a web designer like me. We both have the necessary tenacity and interest to allow us to stay with a problem until we can figure out the fix, the solution, the answer.

    dad in his favorite chair at our old house

  2. A sense of rightness and fairness. I admit, this sometimes can get me in trouble, him too. I am so certain of what is right or fair, that I get very upset, bothered, irritated in situations where people misbehave. And yet, in circumstances that allow me to affect change, my sense of justice gives me power, makes me brave. I won’t let someone be bullied or cheated if I can help it, and I won’t behave badly myself either. I learned a solid sense of morality from my dad, how to be someone that can be trusted, to do what’s right because it’s right.

    me and dad, both much younger

  3. How to take a joke.  I am able to laugh at myself, to make fun, to kid around and not take myself so seriously because of my dad.

    dance party on the shag carpet

  4. A strong work ethic. Yes, work might be hard, you might hate it, but it’s what you do to take care of yourself and your family, and that is more important. It’s also important to pitch in and help if you can, even if technically your work is already finished.
  5. To have a kind, tender heart while still being a badass. My dad is a tough guy, but he has a soft heart. Some of my most vivid memories as a kid are of him sitting next to my bed and rubbing my back while I cried, or carrying me back to my bed after an episode of sleep walking…while I cried. But, he also didn’t let me get away with any crap, which led to me becoming a capable, strong grown-up. He’s not afraid to tell someone when they are being a jerk, and does not back down from a confrontation, (even though at times, he may have wished he had).

    me, dad, and cookie monster at grandma’s house

  6. To eat right and exercise. Again, this is another place where my mom certainly helped, but there was something extra about my dad’s influence. Back when it wasn’t normal or trendy or popular, he ate really healthy and worked out. It had a lot to do with me joining a gym at 16 when that was not what girls did, and being one of the first girls to take a weight training class at my high school, and is why I have always valued my physical health.

    my dad did not eat any of this cake

  7. To love science fiction, or a good scary story. Growing up, we watched the Twilight Zone and Star Trek together, shared a love of Stephen King novels. I still love these things, and they always remind me of my dad.
  8. A love of reading and music. I learned this from both my parents, although their tastes were slightly different. One thing my dad and I both enjoyed reading was what you might call “self-help,” books that we’d critique, but also glean for whatever wisdom we might find and be able to apply to our lives.
  9. A love for photography. Another profession my dad might have successfully pursued had his circumstances been different is photography. Now that I find myself taking more pictures, I remember him always with a camera slung around his neck, telling me to stay still while he took my picture, capturing the world around him as he saw it.

    one of my favorite pictures he took of me, of course I was reading

  10. And most importantly, to do and be exactly what I wanted. My dad wasn’t one of those old style dads who tried to steer me in the direction of things appropriate for a girl, or to limit my possibility in any other way. He told me, time and time again, to never let anyone tell me what to do or what to think or who to be. He always told me I could do or be whatever I wanted, and more importantly, he totally believed it, believed in me.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad! And thank you. I miss and love you, and will see you soon!

An open love letter to Laurie Wagner and Telling True Stories

Certain people that you encounter in your life will change you, alter the way you experience the world in significant and long lasting ways. The impact of their light, their nakedness, their wild love continues to ripple and shiver and quake all corners of your life, sending out aftershocks that continue long after your focused time together, making things forever different, illuminated. Laurie Wagner is one of those people.

image from Laurie’s website

I first heard of Laurie Wagner in the same way I heard about every other good and precious thing I’ve discovered in the past year, on Andrea Scher’s Superhero Journal, this post to be exact. Rachel Cole was also talking about her, how Laurie is an amazing teacher and writing mentor. That was all the proof, the second opinion, the encouragement and nudge I needed (I’m no dummy), so I signed up for Laurie’s Telling True Stories ecourse, the very first run of it.

Holy wow.

Holy crap.

The structure of the class is simple enough: “a 5-week writing course with 3 weekly lessons, writing assignments, and deadlines. Writers will share their work with the community, giving and getting feedback.” Laurie also set up a private Facebook group for those of us who wanted to play. As in every other ecourse I’ve taken, it’s really up to you how much to participate. Some of us posted something every week and shared feedback and chatted on Facebook, others never said a word–you can do as little or as much as you can, be involved or not, to whatever degree you like.

image from Laurie’s website

Even though this is an online course, Laurie’s energy is radiant, vibrant and raw, lighting up and electrifying the space, however virtual it might be. She is at once your favorite grade school teacher, most popular camp counselor, beloved childhood friend (the one who climbed trees and loved books), best girlfriend, and precious mother. She also is the most skilled and kind doula, every piece I wrote for class felt like I’d given birth to something magic and wild. The class wrung me out, wrecked me, in the best possible way. In a Well-Fed Woman interview with Laurie, Rachel Cole says “I know her teachings and how they can crack you open.”

Yes, crack you open and let the light in.

Laurie says in one of her latest blog posts, “If I’m about anything, it’s authenticity. That’s what I teach, that’s the edge I consistently lean into. It’s what I encourage my students to do – to trust that showing up as their natural, vulnerable, imperfect, Words With Friends playing, gorgeous bed-head, didn’t-have-time-to-brush-their-teeth-selves is all we want. In fact that’s WHAT we want!”

image by andrea scher

I’ve signed up to take Laurie’s “Straw Into Gold” in the fall, but in so many ways, I feel like I’m still in a class with her. Most certainly, her teaching hasn’t stopped. When I sit at my writing desk or stand at my computer, afraid to say what I really want to say, I think of Laurie, her support and her strength, and it gives me the encouragement I need to get real, be messy, tell the truth. Just this week, she posted “10 Tips for Telling the Truth” and #1 was “Ask yourself what you’re afraid to write about. Bingo. Write this.” See, still teaching me.

What my writing needs, adores, desires: space and time, gentleness, kindness, nature, joy, my Pentel Clarius medium point black ink pen, my blog, my copies of Writing Down the Bones and Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott’s Facebook status updates, my dogs, my yoga and meditation practices, quotes from Pema Chödrön, dharma talks by Susan Piver, Mary Oliver poems, friendship, a camera, music, long walks, enough sleep, and now, the beacon of Laurie Wagner’s wild love, her insistence that I show up as I am and speak my truth.

If you are someone considering taking Laurie’s upcoming Telling True Stories, let me tell you, first hand: take this course, do not hesitate, run don’t walk, just do it–you will not regret it. Rachel Cole said it perfectly, about how Laurie and her teachings can “crack you open.” And yet, you will feel utterly safe and protected reaching down into the darkest, most raw place and be willing to roar like a lion about what you find there, will discover a wild power that you didn’t even know was there. Life altering…no kidding.