a lot left

"You know, I have spent a lot of days ... feeling sad about the things that I've lost. But doing the marathon really shows me that I still have a lot left in me."

 Gweneviere Mann in this sweet StoryCorps story.

(For those of you not familiar with StoryCorps, the stories are in the form of recorded conversations. So don't just read about this story -- listen for yourself!)

to me, from me

I'm sure I'm not the only one who does it. You come across a website or article or bit of information that you just know will get lost inside that crowded, distracted brain of yours. In the old days we made copies, clipped from newspapers, or, I guess, just wrote it down somewhere. I like these options sometimes -- saving something in print, or seeing it in my own writing, can be more valuable and meaningful than a bookmarked link on my computer. Other times the easiest way for me to file these nuggets away for future reference is to email them to myself. This serves as a sort of virtual idea notebook for myself -- to feed ideas for my future, my writing and my thinking and creativity (and sometimes my stomach, as you'll see below...).

A requirement is a short but descriptive subject line so I can easily recall and recognize the information*. (Sometimes I add a fun note in the body to liven things up.) Here's a list of subject lines from recent emails I sent to myself. For fun, I included the links, too -- most are worthy of sharing with people beyond myself!

mind of the maker
mfa reading list 
end of men
unwanted
coaching article
alpha
Saturday run
aloo gobi
modern love

*Once I send them to myself, I also label them in my gmail. This helps me remember why I saved the link.

What about you? What kinds of information and ideas do you send to yourself? How does this help your creativity?

post-it quote: tightly tied as they are

Following a calling is like walking a tightrope — exacting, courageous and exhilarating all at once. And then there’s the fear of falling, one misstep that sends you tumbling or the loss of balance that keeps you from moving forward. To onlookers it may look effortless, like a dance in the clouds. But in reality it requires more focus and demands more sacrifice than you ever thought possible when first signing up. And though others may cheer you on, you are essentially alone out there, just you and the wire. You learn to trust it and to trust yourself that way.

******

I’ve taken to the habit of reading various versions of the scripture I’m meditating on at the moment. I find that different combinations of words and word pictures help to open it up deeper and give me new visuals or ideas. When I read Colossians 1 in The Message, this verse popped out at me:

The lines of purpose in your lives never grow slack, tightly tied as they are to your future in heaven, kept taught by hope. (vs 5)

I closed my eyes and waited for the right image to come and show me what this looks like. I saw a tightrope walker skillfully walking forward, with utmost concentration, in the purpose that only God can speak into our lives. This purpose moves us heavenward toward what we were meant to be and what we are in the perfect, loving and imaginative eye of God. The rope is held in the perfect tension, allowing us to walk forward, allowing us to trust the next step.

What we fear most is that the lines of purpose will grow slack, or that they aren’t there at all. To many of us they seem invisible, and we keep toeing around to feel for the next step but are never quite sure if we’re to take it or if we’ll tumble down into the abyss.

I imagine an important part of tight-rope-walking is to use all the senses — to know where to keep your vision focused, to feel the way the breeze is moving and to hear the stillness and perhaps drown out the distracting noise. There’s also that sixth sense, that feel that we all have for the purpose we’re made to pursue, the one that helps us just know. We need to learn to use this or we’ll be frozen in fear on a fine wire over the rushing waters of Niagra Falls.

P.S. I watched Man On Wire a few months ago, maybe it’s time to view it again?

P.P.S. The first man to tight rope over Niagra Falls.

******

Post-it quotes is a series. Each post features a new quote that's made it's way to a post-it note on my computer at work, combining two of my loves -- wise words and post-it notes -- with my desire to stay focused and develop excellence at my work and craft.

gone

So much of revision, I've discovered, is about coming to terms with that word: gone. Letting things go. ... the professional writer mercilessly lops off limbs, rips out innards like party streamers, drains away gallons of blood, and then calls down the lightning to bring the body back to life.

-Benjamin Percy in Home Improvement

Love the violence of his imagining of revision. Reminds me to get dirty, get extreme in this process of writing and of life. Good things come that way.

it's always where i'm not

I've been feeling particularly nostalgic (read: homesick) this fall. A few weeks ago I had two pumpkin chocolate chip loaves in the oven (one regular, one gluten-free), and if I'd taken a nap while they were baking, I might have woken up thinking it was Thanksgiving at my parents' house. I wanted a cool breeze and crunchy leaves, but instead I opened a window to get some air flowing in the house, stuffy from the 80+ degree weather outside.

Home is a finicky idea. It wants everything that's good and comforting and heartbreaking, all history and future, the fullness of desire all stuffed into one place that is everywhere and everyone all at once. Mine demands snow and palm trees, my nieces and nephews along with my new goddaughter, turkey tetrazzini and a Tawainese feast.

And it is always where I'm not. 

Placating the senses might just stave off the irrational booking of plane flights, so here's my plan:

• make lots of cozy soups and pumpkin baked goods
• find some fallen leaves to crunch
• wear a scarf and these new boots no matter the weather
• transport myself to the east coast fall through Poppytalk autumn colors week and this slideshow I just found

mantras

I remember when I first started running in high school it was a simple endeavor. Old t-shirts, sans music, little consideration for distance or pace — it was just me and the long roads that ran along sprawling farms and over quiet creaks, sometimes weaving into small neighborhoods of humble houses. I did it for exercise and nothing else. I had some favorite routes, and sometimes made it a destination game, running to my church or my grandparents’ house, both about three miles from where I lived then. The frames that flash into my memory from those times are of bright sunny days, running alone in the beauty of southeastern Pennsylvania. While I didn’t consciously set those times aside to commune with nature, I treasured the quiet and made a point to pray during most of those runs. Not a striving prayer to get God’s attention (which I often find myself leaning towards these days) but simple conversation with God.

During my second year of college I embarked on a new running kick, and things had changed: I ran through different farmland and around my college town, I mapped out routes for hills and distance — and music was essential. I made a mix tape especially for running, a soundtrack that pumped me up and kept me motivated.

Now I have an ipod, running headphones, a pace tracker and athletic gear I’ve bought to make my runs more comfortable (and, let’s face it, me more stylish…). I have goals that I want to reach. And though I listen to music, I have mantras that I repeat to myself for when the running is hard. Lean into it is for tough hills, and strong legs, strong mind reminds me that I have no reason to stop. Stretch pushes me to do things I think are beyond me, even when it’s hard and painful.

Mantras speak to the fact that running is often not about physical endurance, but mental toughness. They also remind me how powerful words are, that they often help to determine our mood, our decisions, our creativity and our relationships.

I read that Meb Keflezighi, an Olympian who earned silver in the marathon at that 2004 summer Olympics and won the 2009 New York City Marathon, uses the Lord’s Prayer as his mantra. It reminded me of how running used to be time to be with God, and how easily those times get crowded out by other things as life has become more complex. It also struck me because it’s so God-centered, while most of my mantras are about me — finishing, staying strong, being great. And how I need a mantra in life because I have goals that I need to reach and many times more complexities to wade through and avoid to keep it simple and stay focused.

Do you have a mantra — in sport or in life? What is it, or would it be?       

recently

I have been away from the blog. Not on purpose, though. I'm trying to drum up some new ideas and some writing to go with it, and unfortunately my inner editor too often deems these things not worth sharing. Bloggers are prolific and there are so many great ones out there that when I get ready to put something here, I roll my own eyes in boredom and imagine my two readers doing the same. (Yes, I'm being just a bit facetious. But just a bit.)

To break up my stale rhythm and to share with you a few more personal, daily tidbits, here is a short list of what I've been seeing/reading/eating/desiring/doing recently...

Greek food is a favorite, and I've been making renditions of Greek salads for lunch. There was the traditional, the quinoa, and now the Mediterranean Crunch Salad, which is my favorite so far. Kale and thyme, who would have thought?

Just read this lovely little piece this morning about showing compassion through food. The explanation? As always, the six year old nails it, "Because when they eat it, it goes inside them and then they know you love them, right?"

Reading about South Africa. Intense.

Watching about Baltimore. Also intense, but McNulty provides some levity. Can't help but love that rascal.

This week I"m moving offices at work, and if I crane my neck I can see the Hollywood sign out my window. 

This article on coaching was interesting, I thought. I wholeheartedly agree!

I've added some new music to my running playlist (don't judge) and have been enjoying some longer runs. I might subconsciously be training for something big. Maybe. We'll see.