The Uplifting Blogger Award

Jan Lundy from Awake is Good gave me this award. As I accept it with gratitude and humility, I am just as happy to pass it on to 6 bloggers who inspire me every single day with their beautifully written posts that drip with the essence of their creative passions and their joy in sharing their lives with the people who read and follow their blogs.





Jan Lundy - Awake is Good (I don't know if I am allowed to send the award to the blogger who sent it to me but how can I not present it to Jan who has had such an impact on my life and my writing?)

Joanne DeMaio - Whole Latte Life

Terri Tiffany - Terri Tiffany Inspirational Writer

Janice Hunter - Sharing the Journey

BJ Keltz - Enriched by Words

Dr. MaryAnn Diorio - The Write Power

Visit these blogs and partake in the beauty and inspiration they lay out for the taking, everyday.

Climbing the mountain, again

Don't you just want to dance when the day find you at your most productive self?

So far, today has been one of those days. WOO HOO!

I've been writing up a storm against the backdrop of a dark and gloomy rainy day. Yesterday's productivity wasn't too shabby either.

So what's my inspiration, those dark days with no music, no drums and no muse. They help to put things in perspective and crank up the passion.

Well, Rita, my muse is in the house and between the two of us, it's a writing party down in here.

It sure makes those valley days worthwhile, doesn't it?

From morning person to night-time writer

As a Christian, I believe that God orchestrates every event in my life and therefore nothing happens by chance. Nothing about me surprises God. But I surprise myself.

I have always maintained that I am the quintessential "morning person." In my former life as a customer service rep. I used to say that I would prefer to go to the office, hours earlier than to stay back after closing time. In fact, being able to go to the office two hours before it's official opening was what kept me sane during those years of a torturous commute and boring "sit-and-wait-for-customers-to-come-in-and-sell-them-something" work.

After twenty months of living the life of a fulltime freelance writer, I have moved into the realm of the night-time writer, and I don't know how it happened. I have said here before, that every time I settle into a comfortable writing routine, things change.

Most times one incident: a phone call, a visit, an unscheduled trip to the mall or any one of the normal life events, is the spoke that jolts my writing wheels. Initially, I don't view the interruption as a major set back with long range consequences. Yet, it is only after a few days have passed and writing is more of a chore than a choice, more of a pain that a passion, that I realize an interruption days before put me out of sync with my daily rhythm. This time though, there was no jarring realization that my usual routine was out of whack. It seems that I had slipped effortlessly into being an "night person."

This "writing in the evening" thing though, is quite the surprise. I'm just glad that it is an enjoyable and productive one at that. I've been writing up a storm. It's a new rhythm and the sound is smooth, effortless, and deeply inspiring. I never knew that I could do so much writing after dark. I am stock piling articles for my column and posting to my blogs more often than before. I 'm taking the time to post my work on content sites and tooting my own horn to boot. Imagine that! Maybe I am really a writer after all.

You know, I've been trying for months, maybe more than a year to control my night-time TV addiction, to no avail. I couldn't write at night; Law and Order or some intriguing Lifetime movie always beckoned. Yet, without warning or reason, I really don't give a hoot about what is going on in TV land when the sun goes down.

Last night, as I sat at my computer writing up a storm, my husband inquired when I would be coming to bed.

"It's after eleven, I didn't know it was so late. I don't know." And with that I continued churning out words until after 1.00 am. Still not sleepy, I decided to call it a night and disappeared under the covers. In the stillness of the first hour, ideas continued to rumble around in my head and dutifully, I reached for my notebook on the bedside table and recorded them.

Even while scribbling my disparaged thoughts I wondered if this was really me, ablaze with ideas at this hour with not a hint of sleep in sight. How did I just slide into this once unimagined night-time writing?

I'm not complaining. I believe that God is taking me somewhere with this. Of course I have no idea where. He alone knows and that means everything is as it should be, everything is moving along just as He planned. In His time, His perfect time, He will show me where and maybe even why.

Until then, I write.

Where I find inspiration

Sometimes, when I'm stuck and the words don't flow, I review the journey that brought me here for inspiration.

Not knowing anything about writing, least of all publication and querying, I introduced myself to an editor of a print woman's magazine in 1997 with a proposal for a decorating column. Two months later in February 1998, the first piece of my nine-year monthly column assignment appeared. Literally, I had stumbled unto the rebirth of my childhood dream to be a writer and it took the pursuit of a love for interior design to take me along that writing path, my writing path.

And it is mine, after all.

You see, looking back, I can see, clearly, how all my life, I was being prepared for this, for writing.

1. It began with my mother's appetite for reading, which I adopted. Authors' photos on their books intrigued me and I envisioned my photograph on a book too, a book that I imagined I would write. She was a dreamer too but it didn't translate to me. My father showed no emotion with respect to her dreams. And my brother and I were too young to understand it all. I realized later in life that that was where I got my penchant for dreaming, making lists and living with an eye toward the future.

Apart from that, I had no model of what to do with my recurring thoughts of being a writer. I didn't even know that it was a dream that could be pursued. But I wrote, all through my life. I feared confrontation; my mother was a hopeless nag. So I wrote letters of apology, love letters, diary entries and later in life when I discovered the wonderful freeing world of journaling, I adopted the practice as my main avenue to write and understand the thoughts in my head, the feelings in my heart and the growing desire for a life that revolved around words, books and writing.

2. Another thing I remember is how much of a loner I was. To this day, I enjoy, crave and seek out solitude and silence. It stands head and shoulders with writing as my deepest passions. I accept that it is strange to my family and friends so I no longer make excuses. They just leave me to my devices and that works for me.

This love affair with solitude and silence was the precursor and indicator of the career that I dreamer of and eventually pursued. They fit me, I feel at home with them, almost at one with the three. It is in that place where I am alone and silent that my heart sings and words flow.

3. My life experiences and the stories I've heard and read make me at home with the topics I write about. I've tried to write about other topics but the words don't come easily.

I'm much more comfortable writing about what I am passionate about: self-improvement, inspiration, motivation, setting goals, self-care, gratitude, working at what we love, finding one's passion, pursuing dreams, finding balance, making changes, starting over, living simply, being true to oneself, finding joy in simple things and simple practices, interior design from a more philosophical perspective such as creating personal space, designing for one's lifestyle, those sort of things. Sometimes I wonder if my scope is too limited but look at the list – it's pretty broad and encompassing. Don't you think? There is so much more to write about under each item I've listed. I call them lifestyle topics because they encompass my mantra about creating a lifestyle that allows us to be creative, open, free, grateful, compassionate, inspired and passionate.

4. For as long as I can remember, I've been enthralled with words and their history. I go to the dictionary to look up one word only to find myself in the throes of researching a long list of others. One thing leads to another; one word leads to another. I think no one can enjoy doing this and not have a gift or love of playing with words. I do.

5. Then there was my habit of daydreaming of owning a bookstore or working in one or in a library. It never happened but I never miss an opportunity to linger anywhere where there are stacks of books. What joy! All those books, authors, pages, words, stories. There is nothing more exciting or soothing except writing, of course.

I believe that God destined me for this, to be a writer. I could not possibly have had the experiences I did, the dreams I've had, the passions I've felt, the quirks and idiosyncrasies I live with and this passion for writing without His design and leading.

That is why whenever, the mild bouts of depression and periods of dissatisfaction with where I am in my writing career surface, I don't stay there long. There is no need to. God has brought me this far and by His grace I will keep going, doing what He has prepared and equipped me to do – write the words that help and heal, encourage and inspire others.

When I labour over a piece of work I try to follow the rules of good writing. But more so, I keep in mind that I have an obligation to the people who read my work. I have to keep on topic and keep it real. My voice must be clear, my heart bare and my words true. They must be sure that I write for them when I open my heart and share myself, my flaws, my weaknesses, my strengths, my triumphs and my dreams.

People have asked me when I'm going to write a book. I want to. I am working on a few ideas, taking it slowly, in stride, a page or two or several at a time. They are not a high priority but are progressing at a leisurely rhythm. For now, I'm simply doing the work. The rest is in God's hands. I am convinced that if book publication is in His plan for me, He'll show me, He'll make it clear, He'll lead the way and it will happen. In the mean time, I savor every silent and solitary moment I have to write and enjoy the process.

More than anything else I take time to count my blessings, make use of the lessons I've learned and say thanks for the wonderful life I have, filled with people I love and a career that allows me to write the whispers of my heart.

Writing on the porch

The title of this post was inspired by the latest post by Barbara Abercrombie at Writing Time. You may read it here http://writingtime.typepad.com/writing_time/

Did I ever tell you that my porch is magical? Well it is, you know. Sitting there with pen in hand and journal balanced on my knee, magic happens.

Ideas of my column sneak upon me and often blossom into a few paragraphs or a rough first draft of an article. Very often it is there that magically a writing block crumples and a breakthrough surfaces allowing me to write freely.

Sometimes the magic is visual - I see something (situation, person, idea, etc.) from a different perspective or notice something completely new. Quietly, to myself, I utter things like, "Ummm." "When did that happen?" "Hey, I never thought of it this way." "That's a good idea; maybe I'll try that." You know, things like that.

Other times, the magic is deeply emotional - coming from the depths of my heart sometimes slowly, creeping up and pouring out onto the pages of my journal. There are times too, when the emotional magic hits me like a blast of the cold air of reality. It forces me to stop writing and pause to decipher what I'm feeling. But I only see the significance as I resume writing, capturing the emotions in words. That's where the magic happens too. That's where I truly understand it all.

And it is because of my experiences sitting on my porch that I identified with Barbara's post. As a matter of fact, her posts inspire me to write, keep writing, enjoy the process and stretch myself.

Where does magic happen for you? Please feel free to share them in the comments section.

In the flow

Working on articles for my column has been unusually enjoyable these past two weeks. So much so, that I have neglected to keep my blog fresh.

Sorry.

The writing has not been feverish or fast, just steady and slow. Yet, not so slow as to jeopardize my deadline either.

I'm acutely aware that I will have to increase my output because of my daughter's wedding in December (I'll be decorating) and the usual Christmas chores I want to do.

Even the thought of dealing with those tasks haven't tampered with the steady flow that I am experiencing now. In fact, because each week I work on several pieces before I settle on one for the column, there are always ten or so articles that I can easily pull, tweak, edit and submit.

By the end of November I plan to complete all the articles for December and take another two to the tweaking stage for the first two weeks in January.

That plan should give me unhurried time to do some cleaning, painting and decorating for my own home, help Michelle fix-up her apartment and decorate for the wedding.

I will still write everyday and make time to sit out on my porch for my daily evening mint tea and journaling session. If I don't honor my daily self-care ritual I won't be of any use to anyone. That is my way of nurturing myself, my soul and my writing. Without it, my writing slows to a torturous uninspired pace that always renders me dry inside. Then that dryness leads to depression. I can do without that, especially in the coming days.

So no matter what happens or how hectic the days may be, I have to feed my body and my soul and my writing so that I can cope.

Besides I want to hit the ground running in January. Oh, didn't I tell you that I have goals to accomplish next Year? Well, never mind we'll get to that soon enough.

Never a dull moment

I may be a recluse. I may be an obsessive compulsive neat freak. I may be a lover of silence and aloneness. But one thing I am sure of, life as a writer is never dull.

Even on those days when I feel blocked, ideas and inspiration are illusive and I ask myself, "Do you really know what you are doing?" I have to admit that there is no boring sameness in my days.

You see writing isn't apart from my life. It is part and parcel of my life. My mental and written to do list is invariably spotted with periods devoted to writing and its various administrative tasks, research and brainstorming. My daily movements are all tied up in my writing in one way or another as I jot down snippets of thoughts and ideas in the midst of seemingly unrelated activities. Even having to deal with contractors these past two weeks has added another aspect to my life. A very interesting one too and it has been a learning experience. I tell you no lie.

Sometimes my days are a little too full but thank God it is interesting and best of all, I get to enjoy it - every waking moment of it.

So here’s to full days, interesting days, days that are never dull. In fact, I raise my coffee mug to every day that I don’t have to get up and rush out of my house but instead enjoy the priviledge, the gift of freedom to lose myself in the one activity that makes my heart skip, dance and sing - writing.

Inspired to keep on writing

Within recent weeks I've read about writers, established writers with websites and newsletters and a few who have written books, lament that although they achieved so much, yet, they have not been published in a newspaper. Somehow, it seems to be a big thing for them - a major accomplishment.

Each time I read this comment from these writers that I admire, my heart skips a beat and my stomach turns. Why? Because I have been fortunate and blessed to have achieved my dream to write for the Trinidad Guardian. Since in the days when people complained that it was cumbersome, I longed to see my name and maybe my picture within its pages on a regular basis.

The opportunity first fell in my lap as a four-month stint in 1999. You may well imagine the thrill. Then, as I have shared before here, when I decided to leave my job, I went on the prowl for a weekly column. And, well, you know, the rest is history - one year old.

I write about this today because I received an email from someone who read my column for the first time last Sunday. He called my article "profound, a masterpiece" - well....

Anyway, after sending off a reply, I opened a newsletter I subscribe to and the editor wrote a lengthy note about all the things she had accomplished in her writing career but still haven't been published in a national newspaper.

There went my heart and my stomach again.

Most times I see myself as being new to the writing world. I know that I downplay my accomplishments and my successes. But it seems that I have only traveled a very distance and I know I have so far to go, so much more that I want to achieve.

Still it is wise and useful to stop awhile and survey the landscape upon which we stand at the moment. If I do that, I'll have to say that I sit in blessed spot right now, today - here at my desk, doing what I love, and one of the places that I'm doing that is in a national newspaper.

Except for my own laziness and tendency for procrastination, there is no room, not even a crevice for complaint in my life.

And in honor of that, I keep digging deeper, working harder and smarter. I keep writing my truth in my words. With gratitude I keep on this path that stretches before me.

Writing by Inspiration

A few days ago, someone asked me if I write whenever inspiration strikes. Although sometimes I do, more often than not, I write and inspiration drops by when she is ready.

Inspiration is not my servant, who dutifully jumps at my every call to come and linger a while with me. Inspiration, in my experience seems to have a mind of her own. She flits, she floats she settles when and where she feels like it. She has no master.

I, on the other hand, have several masters. They are called editors. When they call or email, I jump and sometimes I ask how high.

Whether or not inspiration alights on my shoulder, I show up, sit down and get to work. I have learned how to write my way into being inspired.

Chicken Soup Inspiration

Everything I've done so far today was part of a process leading to my spending the afternoon on the porch, writing in my journal and reading a few chapters in Chicken Soup for the Writer's Soul.

This book revolutionized my writing: how I wrote, what I wrote, and how passionate I became about writing as a career and as my life's purpose.

My struggles with procrastination and my inner doubts and fears, smother my motivation. Yet regardless how often I read the book, each chapter fans the flagging flames of enthusiasm for writing.

Each writer's story inspires me to keep working, writing and sharing my work.

Each story helps to confirm that writing is not a thing apart but an integral part of who I am and where I am in my life at this time. It is my whole existence, yes, my oxygen.

One week ago, just as I felt the beginnings of depression setting in, I sort for some inspiration to not fold but to keep vigilant and enthusiastic about my writing. Times like these are far too common with writers, I am told. At one time, early in my writing career, I wondered if it was really true. Well, I've discovered that it is not only true but often unavoidable.

The negativity I endure seems to be a natural consequence of baring one's soul and sharing one's life with its complexities. I have found that after opening my heart and sharing my inadequacies, I feel exhausted. A blanket of emotional strain descends upon me threatening to cover and even smother me with doubt about the relevance of what I write.

I hate feeling this way because initially I feel powerless to dismiss it, turn away, walk away and continue writing. I try,I really try but most often, it is to no avail. Riding it out with daily journal writing sessions coupled with a few hours of work-related writing always helps to keep me on a slow steady course back to my life's path.

Here I am wallowing in a bit of self-pity (not good) when I'm alerted to an email message. The editor of an online newsletter just purchased three of my articles to run in the next three monthly issues. She published another article in this month's issue as well. That's four articles sold - Wham, Bham!

So I'm thinking, why the depression, why the self-pity. Makes no sense to me really but I take it all in stride, rejoice when I receive acceptance emails and dance when I receive the checks.

Would I ever overcome and bypass this phase.

Just Pouring It All Out

I’m warning you: This is a long post 1154 words.

One moment I was reading an email from a friend, and the next my inner critic jumped in uninvited and sucked me into a web of questions about the state of my writing. Was I doing enough? Have I really made any significant process with my writing since I began in 1998? Am I wasting my time?

Yes, those questions surfaced , even after my post yesterday where I seemed so sure of what I want, where I want to go, what I'm doing and why. Such is the sometimes-crackpot life of a writer. I have read about this almost schizophrenic trait in writers and even in the most prolific and world-renown authors.

Nevertheless, better sense and reality kicked in. I was doing no less than I wanted to do at this time in my life. Naturally, I could always do more, but I was not slacking off. I have traveled far since the early days of owning my desire to be a writer and seeing my first article and my name in print. No way am I wasting my time. Despite the usual occasional doubts and fears, I awake each day with the enthusiasm and determination to devote as much time as possible to my writing.

You see, when I sit still and listen to my heart (and I am a big fan of sitting still and listening) I am reminded of all that I have accomplished by God's grace.

Once I made up my mind to pursue writing as my life's work, I signed up for a two-year diploma program. It was a battle to set aside the daily stress and exhaustion from my day job and settle down at night to study and work on lesson assignments. In fact, it took me a year longer to complete the program and get my diploma.

However, during those three years, I busted my butt reading everything I could find about freelance writing. I subscribed to numerous newsletters and signed up for, downloaded and ordered almost every free report, book or short online course. I didn’t want to miss out on any thing that could help me hone my writing skills and push me closer to my dream to retire at fifty and settle down to being a fulltime writer.

I wrote for free. Well I wrote for a byline, clips and promotion. And it worked. I received endless requests for my articles to be published in print and online newsletters and on websites. I discovered the thrill and challenge of maintaining a regular column when an article I wrote made quite an impression on an editor and he asked me to write a decorating column for his online magazine. I did it for two years and what a ride that was! Readers still email me seeking advice for their decorating dilemmas.

Being diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis and seeing how each flare-up came with more intense pain and greater disability I was forced to take a serous look at my life, how passionate I was about what I wanted and how I really wanted to live.

Reader responses to a personal essay I wrote for as online newsletter, was the catalyst that turned my dream into a passion. I was motivated to write from my heart more.

Up to that time, I had been writing about design and decorating. My work had been informative and instructional, the typical how-to articles but in a friendly and conversational tone. That appealed to the decorating enthusiast, the do-it-yourselfer and especially the budget-conscious homeowner. It was easy work in a sense because I worked in the decorating field, taught decorating classes and took on the occasional design project.

But writing from my heart - well that took some serious courage. So I tried and was surprised to discover that writing personal essays, inspirational and motivational pieces, writing about life (lifestyle) issues pushed me to dig way down deep and stir up my deepest emotions on a lot of issues.

Digging and stirring was one thing, but bringing those emotions to the surface and exploring and putting them on paper and before the eyes of other people – well I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how terrifying that is. Since turning back was not an option, I dug in, stirred up and lifted my voice from its silent depths.

Eventually all that digging and stirring, and bringing up, and writing forced me to take another look at who I was, where I had traveled, what I had learned, how I could use it and share it and where I could be headed on my writing journey. Serious stuff I tell you. Really serious.

Through emails from readers and friends, prayer and exploring my feelings in my journal, I discovered where God was leading me. My voice could no longer remain hidden under the flash and color of interior design. True, as a writing specialty, it was appealing and helpful to readers and growing more lucrative for me every year. However, I felt confidence that it was time to move forward with a new vision for my life and my writing.

The time had come for me to take a chance with my own God-given gifts and abilities, my creative talents and share, give, help, inspire and encourage others through my writing and do so from a different perspective and with a different purpose.

Did I become a super-writer, a perfect person? No way! Instead, I saw a person, me, emerging with all my life baggage in tow. Only, the luggage was unlocked, because almost daily, I was pulling out “stuff” – some I still had to work through and others through which God had brought me with a heart-full of lessons that I had the responsibility and pleasure to share through my writing.

Having the weekly column in the Trinidad Guardian is a dream come true. In its infancy, the dream was to share interior decorating tips. It has now matured into a compulsion and passion to share tips of a different sort - tips and life lessons that have the potential to impact people’s life in more profound ways, instill hope and help them towards healing some of their life wounds.

And to think I imagined that posting to a blog would be so difficult. What would I say?

Today has been quite a ramble. But this is part of what it is about. It’s what my blog is about – putting my thoughts and experiences it out there, to help and inspire someone else, to write, write more and live a better, deeper and more fulfilled life as a writer. I hope I did that today. Anyway this post, this long post will remain here and if not today or tomorrow, may be three or more years from now, God will lead someone to read it and it will work its magic in his or her life.

Horn tooting

I opened my hotmail inbox this morning to a barrage of emails from readers of my column asking why it did not appear in Sunday's issue of the magazine.

Oh Crap! was my response and I emailed my editor to find out what happened.

I don't tell her how many emails I get every week from my readers. I don't want to come across as boasting. Really I don't.

It seems to be the bane of the majority of writers not to want to toot their own horn, and I am as guilty as their are. I tend to "keep it on the down low" - yep I am also guilty of using popular slang when I can't think of a better way of saying what I want to say.

Yet I know it is important to use every opportunity to act as my own PR person, as it were. After all, if my editor doesn't know that readers respond to the column, she might dump it. And where would that leave me? It is my only steady means of income from my writing. Other publications are not regular so the incomes from those are simply welcomed and happily so. They are the desserts and some are lucrative enough to be classed as the cherry and nuts on top.

That's one of the reasons I like writing a regular column, especially a weekly one. A weekly column is a guaranteed weekly income, I receive each month.

Still I don't take it for granted. I believe with all my heart that it is a gift from God. Ever since I picked up my dream, writing for the Trinidad Guardian has been my goal.

I know that Magazines, including newspaper magazine supplements revamp their style and content ever so often. I just pray that what I have been bringing to the table is valuable, timely and reader-sensitive enough to ride the wave of change when it comes.

I don't take it lightly. Responses from readers have kept me focused on working hard to produce work that will inspire, motivate, encourage and even heal. More important, they want my writing to be infused with my personality, my life experiences and the lessons I've learned.

It is a heavy responsibility. It is burdensome at times. It takes hard and disciplined work. It takes time to do research and pull my thoughts together. It takes time to write and edit and rewrite and edit and edit and edit some more. It is difficult to cut out chunks of words, sentences, paragraphs and complete points to keep within the required word count. Of course the benefit is that I am always left with enough material for two or three different or related topics.

Writing is a joyful and soul-enhancing exercise. The birds welcoming the new day with their songs, the smell of the morning dew, the sounds of cars rolling down the street with people on their way to work, the movement of my family as they organize themselves to leave for the day and the smell of coffee percolating in my kitchen - these are all part of my early morning writing ritual. It starts my day out right. It hypes my inspiration and creativity and that is sheer joy.

My first writing session for the day puts everything in perspective. I zero in on my first morning thoughts, stuff I scribbled on the notepad on my side table during the night, my writing to do list and my other responsibilities for the day.

Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I couldn't write. I imagine that my life would be empty, void of the creative high and fulfillment I now enjoy. Oh I'm sure I could settle into some other creative endeavor. I have other interests. But none of them has revved my mind, my heart or enthusiasm for life as writing has. It is indeed my oxygen.