Category Archives: Writing

Happy Birthday, A Thousand Shades of Gray!

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Today is the one year anniversary of my first blog post on A Thousand Shades of Gray. When I pressed the publish button that first time, I had no idea where this was headed or what it would become, I just knew I had to start, I had to do it. And that’s exactly what the initial post was all about–the starting, the beginning, and how hard it could be. And yet, as I said then, “That wish, first whispered when I was in the second grade, was still there: I want to be a writer.”

Fortune on my computer monitor

the picture from that first post

Even though a year ago, I felt uneasy saying it, I have since claimed it.

I am a writer.

But what came first is “I am a blogger.” This first year was about starting, about maintaining a writing practice in a public space, connecting with an audience of kind and gentle readers as well as a community of like-minded and like-hearted bloggers, developing my craft, finding my voice.

In the next year, I would like to continue these things, but I also have a few new goals. I’d like to get professional pictures taken. When I met Andrea Scher for the first time in person this summer, she said something like “you should get new pictures taken for your blog, the ones you have don’t show how beautiful you really are.” I agree that someone who knows what they are doing would do a better job capturing my likeness than my attempts at self-portraits. And almost every picture that Eric tries to take of me turns out terrible, makes me look older, angrier, tireder, and heavier. I’d like to have some better shots of me to use “professionally.”

I’d also like, in the next year, to have a “real” site. I want to design, build, and host my own blog, so that it is more individual, unique to me than is possible with a WordPress template, to learn those things, develop my skill set, and make my blog more professional, (there’s that word again). I aspire some day to no longer need my paid work at CSU because I am instead writing and publishing, teaching ecourses, running workshops and retreats, teaching writing and meditation and yoga, helping people discover a wholehearted life. I’d like to build a robust platform for my work, a place I can grow into as I develop such offerings.

our fortunes from last night’s dinner

And yet, the most important things will continue on as my priorities: the writing, my readers, my mission to remind all of us of basic goodness, to inspire us all to live wholehearted lives, supporting that aspiration in any way I can, and continuing to connect with a larger community that shares these goals.

The most important thing to recognize on this anniversary: You, my kind and gentle readers. Without you, this would be a worthwhile exercise, a valuable effort and practice, but emptier and certainly lonelier. I feel so much gratitude and so much love for you, am so thankful that you continue to show up, to listen and respond, to encourage and allow me to sometimes do the same for you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Book Writing Saturday

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Throughout the week, as I’ve been thinking about my upcoming Book Writing Saturday, where I would spend four hours working on my book as I’ve been doing every Saturday for the past month, I had a strong sense that that I had to alter my approach.

For starters, Dexter was pretty sick this week. The anti-inflammatory we were giving him to ease the discomfort of his maybe probably most likely but we can’t really be sure cancer did a real number on his belly. By Monday night, he couldn’t even keep water down. So we had a long, hard week of more vet visits, more medication, more suffering, more sleepless nights and worry. Thankfully, already by Tuesday night, he was feeling much better, but I’m feeling distracted and tired.

at nine years old and so gray, he still looks like a puppy sometimes

Book Writing Saturday was hard enough when it was simply a matter of already having an intense, full time job, already getting up at 4:30 am every morning so I can do everything that needs/wants done: laundry, dog walking, groceries, cleaning, exercise, sleep, paying bills, blogging, self-care, yoga, meditation, maintaining relationships, etc. There is so little extra time, and already not enough play or rest. But I noticed it wasn’t just that–I was being a bully to myself about the whole thing, pushing to get four hours of work, work, work done on my book. I was beating myself up, wasn’t having any fun. And if I’m just going to be mean to myself about it, what’s the point?

Love is the point. I love writing. I love telling stories. I love inspiring others to live more fully, to love more deeply. I love sharing my truth, and in so doing hopefully reminding whoever is reading that they are loved, that they aren’t alone, that they are already perfect, basically and fundamentally wise, compassionate, and powerful. There is a book inside of me that wants out, and at times it feels like the creature from Alien, so I really have no choice.

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” ~Maya Angelou

I started off today by using a prompt suggested by Courtney Carver at the end of her post, On Writing, to write about a detail of your childhood. When I touched my pen to the page, the thing that came up was something I stole. In fact, it was the first thing I remember taking, knowing that it was wrong but doing it anyway because I wanted it so bad. It was a small, white glass Avon empty perfume bottle (Sweet Honesty) made to look like a Scottish Terrier with a gold collar, just like this one. I took it while I was playing at friend’s house, taking it into the bathroom and hiding it in the waistband of my shorts. I loved it, and in my blind desire I justified taking it without asking, (because I couldn’t risk that they’d say “no”). As soon as I got it home, took it out and rubbed my finger against it’s smooth side, I knew I would never be able to enjoy having it, no matter how much I wanted it, but I also was too embarrassed, too ashamed to return it, so I took it to a vacant field at the end of our street and threw it as hard as I could into the emptiness.

This led to more writing about theft, desire and longing, shame. But then the writing took a turn. You see, kind and gentle reader, yesterday Tammy from Rowdy Kittens included a link to one of my blog posts in her Inspiring Links. That more than doubled the amount of traffic I normally get, which gave me that feeling of “if I would have known you were coming, I would have cleaned up a bit.” It made me start thinking about changes I’ve been wanting to make on my blog, which is perfect timing because tomorrow is my one year blog anniversary.

Which ended up meaning that today wasn’t so much about book writing as blog writing, blog brainstorming, blog planning, blog design and redesigning, blog dreaming, blog inspiration, blog love.