Lessons from and Apologies to My Black American Sister

IAT = I am thankful

This is me and two of my favorite girlfriends. Leslie (right) introduced me to Cari (middle) and there is something really special about her. Before anyone gets up in arms about the title of my post, I talked to Cari at length about what SHE PREFERS to be called. Cari has many cultures in her background including African, Egyptian, Caucasian, and Cherokee. Those are the ones I know. There may be more. I found it of great interest that her father's birth certificate listed him as colored (I think), hers said Negro (I think) and one of her children's said African American. But they did not all say that. The point is and I'll correct my mistakes if she corrects me (we've talked about SO MUCH), her skin is one color (that's debatable too, haha) but different generations have been "identified" differently. How confusing! I'm not sure because I never noticed, but I think all the Birth Certs in my family generations either say White or Caucasian. No confusion. Because of Cari's multifaceted history, she prefers to honor that history by being considered a Black American.

I think this post could go on for ages. We'll see where it leads me as I explain WHY I apologized to Cari for something I did not do to her, but to others of her race, while they were doing something to me.

I attended a nearly all white high school in Georgia. 1200 students and I only had one class briefly with one black girl. Choir. There were a handful of other Blacks/African Americans in my entire high school. Some of my family were clearly racist. My grandparents were prejudiced. They didn't like any of the "masses" no matter their color. They simply had a superiority complex. I really had no experience around other colors of people and had no opinions other than what I heard through media, the news, and limited conversations on the topic around my family. One of my favorite friends in high school was Chinese though. Hi Macy!

Well, since Cari and I became close quickly, I began to have all those questions surfacing that I had always wondered about but never knew anyone personally enough to ask. So I've asked her tons of race questions and she has patiently and lovingly explained her view of my questions. As a background, she comes from an amazing family. Her dad was a minister and he helped organized the first Martin Luther King march. She has a PHD in psychology, she and all of her siblings have been arrested for civil disobedience and are proud of it, and I LOVE picking her brain. And laughing hysterically with her on polo.

A few days ago, out of the blue, a memory came to my mind, quickly followed by another. The first memory, was of some high school boys (could have been any color) but they just happened to be black. Since that's what we called them in the 80s that's what I am going with and mean no offense. They stood fixed in the hallway while all the students came around the corner to go to lunch and made what I felt were crude remarks while looking at the backsides of all the girls walking past them. I was offended and enraged, and I think I might have turned them in. I didn't mean for the words to come out, they just did. I was at once horrified and terrified. Under my breath, the words escaped from my lips, "STUPID N's!" On the one hand I was embarrassed and a little ashamed. On the other, I was pretty sure they were going to come after me, but fortunately they either didn't hear, or ignored and laughed at me.

As the memory came up, I felt compelled to apologize to Cari. I won't go into all those details, but she was touched and accepting and forgiving. It meant a lot to her!

The second memory was a few years later, during my freshman year at BYU. I don't remember the class but we watched a film that included an adoption story where the white couple adopted a black baby. This was a new concept to me and I spent some time thinking about it. Then wondering; if I could not have children, would *I* adopt a black baby? I resolved that I would. The color of a baby's skin was not a consideration to me if I were going to have the privilege of rearing any.

But WHY would I feel the need to apologize to Cari. Well, I think partially because of the discussions we've had. Much of what she has told me was simply a backup testimony of bits and pieces I've heard all my life in various places including school, movies, conversations, etc. Others have been from her experiences and her knowledge of the general experiences of many of her race. I don't REALLY know why I thought to apologize, I just DID. But I have a few guesses.

In my coach training, I look for and find articles myself and shared by other coaches on all types of subjects. One that has fascinated me recently is the idea that trauma can be passed down through generations and has been proven through the study of holocaust victims and their children and grandchildren, and actually studying mice. See the following long but fascinating story.

https://discovermagazine.com/2013/may/13-grandmas-experiences-leave-epigenetic-mark-on-your-genes

The second reason that may have affected my apology is, years ago, I went to one of my first seminars, which I can't even remember the seminar, but I had a roommate (Genie) who was telling me about her traumatic background. She shared that some time after her experiences, she was sharing the story with a friend, and the friend stopped her and asked her to please forgive him for what was done to her. Not only was I intrigued but I was deeply touched that someone would be willing to apologize and make a way for forgiveness when it didn't involve them directly at all!

But then I am reminded of Abigail. I've written a few times about her and I won't repeat the info, only to say that she was a type of Christ, asking forgiveness of David for her husband's churlish and stupid actions. Of course the best example of all is the one who paid for and apologized for all the inhumane acts of humanity on our behalf. So, maybe apologizing for or to someone else, isn't a bad idea. Finally, my husband often apologizes to me for things he has not done. I sit down to share a pain or discomfort and he nearly always says, I'm sorry. I usually tell him he doesn't have to apologize but at some level it helps me feel better to know someone feels my sorrow enough to be there with me in it and to apologize how he can.

And then Cari educated me more. So, it's pretty easy to see the remaining devastation of slavery in black communities. What I didn't know was the origin of the destruction of black American families. She told me about the Willie Lynch letter. Something I had never heard about, but is the origin of the term "lynching" and so much more horror. A slave owner from India came to America to lecture them how to keep their slaves from uprising. Break them without killing them and then get role reversals in the family for compliance. Reading about this was almost more than I could take.

Willie Lynch letter

And the affects are seen in so many ways. But maybe those ways are meant for another day. You might ponder whether there are benefits to apologizing in behalf of another. It had a profound affect on my sweet friend and I hope that it could do the same for others. I love you Cari. And Leslie. :-)

Reverse Gratitude

IAT = I am thankful

I'm doing that one thing again. Taking advantage of November and the blessings that can be had if we are just AWARE. With the big box stores jumping the gun on Christmas BEFORE Halloween has it's chance at ghosties, and goblins, and things that go trick or treat in the night, we see Christmas decorations, trees, lights, all lined up, ready for purchase. Being the last minute planner that I am, this is never a temptation or problem for me. I have a tendency to be wandering the aisles a few days before Christmas, scratching my head because I can't find what I want, and wondering why I didn't plan a little better!

But the tendency for MOST seems to be to skip what I feel is one of the best Holidays out there. Thanksgiving. We jump from Halloween to Christmas and jam 'turkey day" right in the midst of it, without really thinking how it can bless us. It's been at least the last five years, that I have spent every day in November being MINDFUL of my blessings. I can't tell you how that prepares my heart for the most wonderful blessed time of the year!

The benefits of gratitude are endless. I won't catalogue them here, but here's JUST a few.

WHY WOULDN'T YOU WANT TO be GRATEFUL???

I just heard of the most awesome gratitude practice. I am going to call it reverse gratitude because instead of being a bucket list, that's what it becomes. So, two ways to approach it. You could

a) Think of how your life would BE, if you started subtracting your blessings. You might journal about one or two of those things. Example: a special family member. 

For me it's my GRANNY. When I think of her and the life she lived and the example she was to me....it means everything. Because I DIDN'T have a mother most of my life. I DIDN'T have a typical father, never have, never will. I DIDN'T have a supportive family with only 2 or 3 exceptions. But I DID have an amazing GRANNY. I look back on nearly every interaction with her and realize what a blessing it was. The tender mercy extended to me in the midst of such absence. I'm so grateful for it I can hardly stand it.

 b) Reverse a bucket list to become gratitude. Have you ever made a bucket list? Does it light you up or bring you down? If it's motivating you to have, do, be, keep it up for sure! But, if it shows you every day all the things your AREN'T accomplishing...ditch it.

Instead, make a list of all the amazing things you HAVE done. Amazing is in the eye of the beholder. Is it amazing to give someone a ride who would have had to hitch hike? Is it amazing to drop off Christmas on someones doorstep? Is it amazing to travel to a foreign country or even another state you've never seen? Is it amazing to lay in bed with a sick child and comfort them? Is it amazing to stay up on the phone till 2 am and prevent a suicide? Kind of puts things in perspective when you think about it. Do me a favor. Make that reverse bucket list. Call it a gratitude list. Share something with me. I'll share ten below. In no particular order.

1. Visiting the Holy land.
2. Helping 2 people recover from PTSD.
3. Preventing at least 2 suicides.
4. Graduating from college.
5. Being married for THIRTY YEARS!
6. A miscarriage. (Helped me appreciate those who lose so many, and those I carried to term)
7. Having 7 beautiful children.
8. Having a home on 8 acres. How fortunate!
9. Thousands of teaching moments with my children and friends.
10. Visiting Russia.

I look back and think, that's a lot! And I'm really grateful to have accomplished each of them for different reasons. I am pretty sure I could turn that list into 100. How about you?

My thought expanding trash prayer

IAT = I am thankful

At least a few times a week, I walk. Sometimes I walk with a friend. Sometimes I walk and listen to music, podcasts, or scriptures. And sometimes I walk mindfully and just notice, enjoy, and feel gratitude. I often think. Sometimes, I take a different route. The views are always beautiful and conducive to contemplation. Years ago, I found out how crucial our thinking can be in the creation of our circumstances. Walking sometimes reveals my thoughts and how they need to change.

When I first started the thought changing experiment, it often felt awkward and uncomfortable; like a brand new shoe that hasn't been broken in (leather). As the experiment continued, it became easier with time and the leather, like changing thought, began shaping to the environment and getting softer. Before I knew it, the new thoughts felt more familiar like my favorite pair of shoes, and SO COMFORTABLE. This process is continual, not perfect but becomes easier with continued practice.

My route that runs along the road is just as beautiful as my walks around the cotton fields, but some days I notice the trash with sadness. I have often caught another resident at the other end of the road, picking up trash. I've been doing the same thing for years, just not while on my walk.

One day a few months back, while I was walking, I had the thought, "I should bring a bag with me and pick up the trash." I didn't mean for it to be an experiment. But I prayed, "Heavenly Father, this road is trashy, and I want to pick it up, but I don't have a trash bag, so I'd love to pick up the trash if you would provide one for me." There was no investment in the outcome. I wanted something. I asked. I figured if He wanted it, I'd get what I wanted. Can you guess? A few hundred yards down the road was a Wal Mart bag clinging to a bush. I made a note of it. Walked to my half way point, turned around, picked up the bag and the trash all the way home. SUCCESS.

Sometimes there is only a piece or two. So, I just pick it up on my way home. Today however, there was A LOT of trash. I've gone through the range of emotions and name calling of those who weren't raised as I was to respect nature. At some point I realized that wasn't doing any good, especially for myself. So, I just decided to keep it up and hope people would see me and maybe it might change them.

As I began seeing SO MUCH trash this morning. I said my same prayer. "I want to pick up this trash, but I need a trash bag." 50 yards later, there it was. Hooray! I untangled it from the claw like mesquite branch, crumpled it up tight and finished to my turn around spot and starting scanning for trash. I was 2/3 home when one of the handles on the bag broke. I was SO DISAPPOINTED. 

I had just before been pondering my belief that the Lord always prepares ahead of us to help us when we are in need. I was wondering if He knew the trash would be there, and if He had provided the bag before I even noticed the trash; KNOWING I WOULD ASK HIM. So the handle broke and I thought, "well that's it. The bag is full, I can't fit anymore and now I have to carry it specifically to make sure none of the trash falls out." Unless.

"Unless I find another bag"....It wasn't a prayer this time. I just expected it. Years of learning to change thoughts can sometimes lead to solutions quite quickly. I have gone from fearing, doubting, and worrying, to believing, letting go, and trusting. Not 20 yards away I found another Wal Mart bag. This one was tied shut. I must have walked right past it, but I hadn't seen it on my way out. I untied it and found....wait for it....3 more bags. :-D 

I took half the garbage out of the one and put it in one of the others. I took another one and put the bag with the broken handle in. Then I kept picking up trash, filling both, and having my 2 extras. I really wondered about that. I did not NEED the extra 2 bags, but there they were. And the thought occurred to me that maybe my God just wanted to show me He could provide what I want and THEN SOME. Maybe He wanted me to know that I can ask LARGE and He will provide. And remind me that I can do more. All from a walk, a thought, some trash, and a prayer!

Raining on the Grace Parade

Everybody has a favorite scripture. I have several. The go to verses that bring you comfort. Here are just three.

But I have a LEAST favorite scripture. I nearly despise it. Until I studied it just a little more. Yesterday I was out enjoying a walk around the blocks in San Diego. I'm here with some of my church friends enjoying the Labor Day weekend. I decided to listen to my scriptures while I walked and the selection was 2 Nephi 25. I was hearing and enjoying some of it and calling my mind back to listen as it wandered looking at my surroundings, when I heard it! 

...for we know that it is by grace we are saved after all we can do!

UGH, Nephi, why??? Why did you have to put that there? But as I continued listening, I realized it was an invitation to understand why. And, I must admit, a desire to one up the rain-on-the-grace- parade-all-you-can doers out there. You know the ones. You're having a beautiful lesson about grace, and the merits of Him who saves, and there's always one in the room. It's almost like Goober in the episode of Andy Griffith where he goes running after Barney declaring "Citizen's arrest, citizen's arrest!" They just can't stand LETTING it be about what it really is. It really IS about grace.

For the fellow members of my faith, disciples of Christ....our Christian brothers and sisters of other faiths, have this part down. They blow us out of the water. They rest in the Lord and the knowledge that they believe in Him, they have faith in Him, and their failings are covered by him. I call it the wings of grace. Now, we may do a slightly better job, or not at paying attention to and keeping the commandments as we see them, but let's give ourselves a break and stop shoulding on grace. Because every time we quote that scripture, we are saying we SHOULD be doing more of this, that, and the other. NO! The only thing we should be DOING more of, is allowing His grace to be sufficient. 

So, I decided to listen to the chapter again, and realized how much other good stuff is in there. For good measure, I listened one more time. Then I came home and looked it up and read through one more time. I noticed a few things. I'm no scriptorian or expert, but these are things that stood out to me that helped me understand why this oft quoted argument against grace really is NOT understood by our general church membership. At least those that are convinced they aren't going to "heaven" because they just haven't done enough. (Ask most other Christians where they are going, and they confidently say HEAVEN! Why? Because they BELIEVE in GRACE.)

Let's start with the fact that when this was written, Jesus hadn't even come yet. The next THREE verses in the chapter cover the balance between the law, it's necessity, and its eventual fulfillment. For any who care, I felt a chiasmus in this chapter as I listened and I was right; there is a powerful one in these verses that does as I suspected...points to the central idea being all about Christ.  (If you like that kind of nerdy stuff, you can read about it here.)

Previous to those three verses is a reference to Moses and the healing that came by looking on the serpent (which represents Christ) as well as the smiting of the rock and flowing out of water, which could ALSO represent Christ and Living Water. There was nothing intrinsically powerful about LOOKING or striking the rock. The power came in the beholding of Jesus Christ. The power came in what He offers as a reward to our SIMPLE acts of faith. 

Going back to veses 24-27...the modern equivalent of the law is keeping the commandments. What was the purpose of the law? Nephi says,

24 And, notwithstanding we believe in Christ, we keep the law of Moses, and look forward with steadfastness unto Christ, until the law shall be fulfilled.

The law gives focus to the ultimate source of salvation. The very next verse he declares the deadness of the law and

...we are made alive in Christ because of our faith.

...which Christ declared to many of those whom he performed miracles for, that it was ultimately their faith in HIM that brought their healing. Yes, they had to reach out, look up, wash, go to the Priest, but those things DID NOT HEAL THEM, their FAITH IN HIM did. 

Verse 27 summarizes 24 and 25 again, but the real purpose in the discussion of the law is revealed in verse 26. 

...we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins.

There isn't a group of people I know, than those I've attended church with the last 24 years, who knows more that they should be "doers of the word and not hearers only." But the doing has created a group of people who mostly fear the Lord, fret they they aren't enough, and aren't doing enough, and will never "make it." In one regard they are right. They won't. Not without Him. Not without "the merits, and mercy, and grace of the Holy Messiah, who layeth down his life according to the flesh, and taketh it again by the power of the Spirit."

His merits.

His mercy.

His grace.

Maybe I'm the one that should let it go. I can listen and know the truth. I'll never do enough to merit salvation. Only Christ has done that. I'll do my best to follow His commandments and invitations, only because it helps keep me focused on Him and because I love Him and it's my feeble attempt to do SOMETHING, no matter how small. I'm so grateful to be saved by grace (after all I can do), because I can NEVER EVER do enough. He's the only one who ever could and did and does.

PS, I forgot that when you click on grace in verse 23, you find the following scriptures. They are instructive of Nephi's possible intentions or at least put them in context. 

Ps. 130:4 (3–4); Rom. 3:20 (20–24); 7:5; 2 Ne. 2:5 (4–10); Mosiah 13:32; Alma 42:14 (12–16); D&C 20:30; 138:4. TG Grace. 

***to see other times I've mentioned or taught about grace, type grace in the search box up there on the top left.

The Scorpion Factor

It's late, I should be in bed. Therefore I write. Then I sleep. 😔 If you don't get the title, you need to read this book.

So I just searched my blog for the BIG FAT scorpion story and I'm shocked it hasn't been written. That will be for another day and when it is written it will be amended and included. Until then, let's just say I have a history with scorpions. I also used to have a massive understandable phobia of them. The one time I DID write about scorpions, was a non-sting encounter with an explanation of my phobia.

This is a bark scorpion. It is the most dangerous kind in North America. It has black on it's back and it's the kind I was stung by five years ago. AND IT HURTS!!! But here's a little walk down memory lane after searching through my past facebook posts. Because I have learned a great lesson by being stung again. By date.

June 1, 2011

thinks 3 scorpions in 3 days is just about enough!

June 18, 2011

wasn't very thankful for my close encounter with a scorpion last night, but was thankful even though I touched it, I was not stung.

September 2, 2012

Is still a little freaked out about stepping on a scorpion in my bare feet last night, on my way to bed. Grateful I was not stung, seeing as I saw the reaction of someone stung just a few weeks ago.

September 3, 2012

2 BIG dead scorpions with my shoe ON. And one dead rattle snake.

ALSO September 3, 2012 

after a centipede crawled into our pump switch and fried it and shut off our water!

It's like I'm Dorothy in the Wizard of AZ. "Scorpions, and rattlesnakes, and centipedes, Oh MY!"

February 14, 2013

That freaky moment when you pull something out of your suitcase and a scorpion comes out behind it. #heebeejeebies

April 2, 2013

There is NOTHING I hate more. N.O.T.H.I.N.G. And *I* had to kill it. #heebeegeebies

Probably also a BARK!

May 16, 2013

21 years living among scorpions. Finally got me. Worst. Pain. EVER!!!!!! Its gonna be a long night. (The BIG FAT story referenced at the beginning)

Later May 16

I still can't feel my toe. Jefferson tested and nope, couldn't feel a thing. But I'll take numbness over excruciating pain any day.

May 18, 2013

Thank you Mr Blacklight inventor! I put you up there with Mr Air Conditioning Man as one of the people I want to meet in the next life. #myrationalfear #mywoodentoe

June 8, 2013

Scorpions used to freak me out. Now they really do. #3rdonethisweek #madethehubbyspray #founditdead #onitswaytoh#$l

It's a BARK!!!

2013 WAS A BAD SCORPION YEAR!!!

July 10, 2014

That hysterical moment when you want to run through the house screaming because you realize you just slept all night on a scorpion.

June 15, 2015

I LOVE dead scorpions. Thanks for spraying this week honey.

August 18, 2018

I'm grateful for scorpions in the closet that teach me the connection between my thoughts and outcomes. SERIOUSLY! YESTERDAY I had a conversation with my friend Caroline Skrdla on the topic. I cemented the conversation with an emotional shudder. THIS MORNING when I took my shirt out of the closet and took the sweater off and turned it around, there it was! Long story short, as I declared over and over " I can be brave," I took it outside, let it crawl off, then pummeled it with a borrowed flip flop. So grateful I wasn't stung! Call me Dawn... Scorpion Slayer. Hahaha

How it didn't sting me, I don't have a clue!

August 22, 2018

Blast. Walking across my property in flip flops something stung my toe. Half my foot is numb. Go to home remedies? Fortunately it only hurt very briefly.

And now....I just want to pick up my feet and glide through the air to bed because how am I going to walk in bare feet right now? But I digress...

Referring back to the August 18 post above, I met a new friend named Cari, and she brought up the subject of scorpions and how she doesn't like them, I mean who does? The Bible appropriately refers to them as torment. So we were staffing for our friend and author Leslie at her Genius Bootcamp.  During the weekend, she taught about thought, vibration, emotion, and how together they actually create our reality. I TRULY believe this string of events happened to make me aware of exactly that on a more personal level.

I ALREADY KNOW ALL THIS and have used the principles to create all kinds of great stuff in my life, but I guess I needed to really understand the other side of the equation.

Without telling the whole story. 5 years ago I was stung by a scorpion at 1am and it was one of the most painful traumatic events of my life. I know! It sounds so melodromatic, but it really was awful. I resolved the trauma with EFT and it became a manageable experience after that. 

As you can see, since then, I've continued to have interactions with the beastly critters but hadn't been stung again until this week. 

I was staying with Leslie's family at her home. They had just moved in days before and they were kind to invite me to stay with so much going on. After the conference Friday, and our little scorpion shuddering moment, I woke the next day to get dressed. I pulled my brown striped shirt from the closet. My white lightweight sweater was draped over it. I always wear a sweater at conferences because they tend to be so cold. This time, I did not need my sweater. So, I took the sweater off the hanger and put it down. Instead of taking the shirt OFF the hanger, I first turned it around. Part of me has no idea why I did that not normal action. The other part of me knows that it was orchestrated for me for a learning moment.

Staring right at me, tail curled was the bane of my existence. I did not go leaping through the house as  I might have at home, but my very first thought was, I NEED A HOUSEHOLDER TO HELP ME! I had to put the shirt down first because I still didn't have one on. So I threw the first thing I could find on, and stepped out the door. 7am Saturday morning. Nothing but moving boxes. WHERE are teen boys when you need them!!!???

I turn around and start declaring, "I can be brave, I can be brave!" The pitch rises in my voice as I grab the shirt back up repeating my brave mantra and gingerly speed to the front door and nearly heave the shirt onto a bush. Great! The spawn of satan remains on my shirt. Now what? I need something to whack it with. Back in the foyer I see a pile of shoes ready to leap to my defense. I grab a much loved flip flop and assume a battle stance. 

I pick the shirt back up and start whacking the back of it to try to get the scorpion to fall off. Of course, it does not. I want to cry, but I can be brave. So, I lay the shirt on the ground and the demon finally moves and crawls right off. I pounce with sword, ahem, flop in hand and whack the thing until it no longer moves. RELIEF!!! 

As I put my shirt on, the thought occurred to me, that conversation the day before, created what I had just experienced! I had a previous emotional attachment to an idea (fear of scorpions). I had mentally, emotionally, and physically connected with the idea less than 24 hours before and every time I see one. It created the right vibration to call a scorpion into my existence. At the moment I thought this, I realized, I could either be grateful for the experience, let it go, and learn from it, or I could dismiss it as so many odd coincidences.

When Leslie came down I told her the whole story. When we got to the venue for the last day of Bootcamp, I shared it with Cari and the few people there. I felt all self-congratulatory for my great wisdom and understanding I acquired, not knowing there was one more piece left. 

A few days later, I went out to feed my chickens and gather eggs. I was walking back to the house when I felt a poke from what I thought was a sticker. I didn't even look down at my flip flopped feet to see what it was, because it was pretty insignificant, but only about ten steps later, I felt pain, that increased until I was inside my house sitting down looking at my toe trying to figure out what just happened. I realized that I had been stung and new it was likely a scorpion, ON THE VERY SAME toe as before! What are the odds?

The pain intensified but it was nothing like the previous experience. It was bearable and my toe started going numb and it spread throughout my foot. It stopped at my ankle and I grabbed some lavender and other calming essential oils and slathered my foot. Within a few minutes, the progression stopped and I went about my day. It really got me thinking. How in the world was all of this connected? Then it hit me. I just had a rather mild experience with a scorpion. I didn't see it. I didn't fear it. I didn't freak. I didn't attempt bravery. I didn't realize it until it was far too late. It was a night and day difference than all the previous experiences. 

Several days later, I can still feel the stiffness and some tingling in the the upper portion of my foot and toes. I have not suffered. I was not traumatized, but I am left to wonder, if it was all for a bigger purpose. For me to connect the dots between my thoughts, feelings, fears, and see them brought into reality. WHY?

So, I can see that every negative thought and emotion becomes a part of the creation cycle, just like every positive thought and emotion is part of the creation cycle. My previous practice of watching thoughts, erasing and replacing them, and expressing gratitude continues to be worthwhile on a day to day basis. 

The last part of this verse has never made so much sense!

“Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again."

In other words, whatever you send out comes back. MULTIPLIED! If you send out measures of blessedness, you get blessedness back. If you send out measures of misery, you get measures of misery back. The previous sentences to this verse of scripture include the same idea in regard to judging, condemning, and forgiving. 

I have new respect for scorpions and things of my own making. The scorpion factor will not be a thing I forget quickly. I'll also be more aware of the words falling out of my mind, heart, and mouth, and what they are ultimately creating. What are you creating?

I'm a Writer

IAT = I am thankful

If you remember typewriters, remember the sound of the paper going between the rollers as the gears go round n round n round? Fingers to the keys, I begin to type. "I am a writer." My fingers pause. "I write." Pause.

If I was really using a typewriter, I'd rip the paper zipping past the rollers right now. The paper would be crumpled and added to the pile forming behind me. I'm not a writer. Well, I mean I have to be a writer, because I have the affirmation up on my bathroom mirror with other secret affirmations that I am not about to reveal. The only way a general friend would see my affirmations is if I put them here, or I'm lying sick in bed, unable to lift my head and someone gets the bright idea to come and clean my bathroom. And my husband LETS them???!!!

However, I have been writing a blog for (let me check the dates)...ERMERGERSH, it will be ten years in September! How exciting! Let me take a moment to relish in this moment.

I'm a writer? Maybe. Hmmm. Let's add up the evidence. I HAVE been published. In newsletters. And in an actual book! I found out accidentally when I did a google search of myself. It's a book on EFT that one of my submissions make it into. I can't remember the title, but it was a fun discovery. I've also been invited to write in other books that didn't end up published.

My good husband tells me nearly every time I write a post that my writing is good. Does that count? Maybe, but we'd have to evaluate his tastes in writing and what genres he reads, etc. I have 7 followers and sometimes they tell me they like what I write. Seven! I'm not a writer. 

What does it take to be a writer? Hmmm. Some of my posts have hundreds of views. Does that make me a writer? I've had book ideas for years and even started on some of them and now I belong to a writer's group. Ahhh, now we're getting somewhere!

Each month, when I don't have fourteen other things going on, I go the the writer's group and we share something we've written and make a new goal for the next month. I've shared blog posts from my blog that I imagine I will recycle into chapters in my first book. You can imagine how intimidating it must be to go as a newbie to a meeting of REAL writers who have actually published books, making them AUTHORS! It's like that moment from Oliver Twist before he actually says the words, but holds up his poor little bowl to beg for more, wondering all the while if he is worthy enough for the meager scraps returned to him. 

No, I'm in a group of fantasy, science fiction, and romance novelists. PUBLISHED. Remember? I said they are published. I'm the only non-fictioner in the group. But they give me warm sincere compliments. They encourage me. They keep inviting me back so....I write. There was this one meeting that I ACTUALLY did write a new chapter...I write!

Maybe the definition of a writer is someone who writes, so that when their words are read, the reader is moved; changed; better. Can I just make up definitions? I really don't know. I like my writing. Maybe if others like my writing that aren't family and friends, and I like my writing, I'm a writer. 

I know sometimes when I am bored, I return to my blog, skip around a little, see a title that intrigues me, and I begin to read. A couple of weeks ago, it was a 3 part post. I've only written one 3 part post. I was emotional. It was an election year. It was politics. Haha. When I finished reading that 3 part post, I sat back and thought, "WOW, that was really good. I don't even remember writing that." 

I write because it teaches me. Usually, I have an idea. I just WANT to write, so I get on here and I start pounding it out. The amazing thing that happens is, when my fingers hit the keys, ideas being flowing and pouring through my fingers. I see them appear on the screen. Sometimes, there's an idea on the edge of my brain, not yet fully expressed. So, I look through a dictionary, scriptures, a talk, a video, and then the idea seems to solidify more, and get on the page.

Then I read. And edit. Read. Edit. Until I'm tired or it feels just right, and I press the publish button. Usually (not sure it will be the case this time, but I've always said this is only really for my own benefit of getting my thoughts down), I feel satisfied. So maybe that's a part of it.

I write. My husband likes it. I get my ideas on "paper." I feel satisfied. I share. My friends like it. Random hundreds read it. They don't respond, but they read. Months or years later, I read again. Sometimes I am moved to tears. Sometimes I think, "dang! that was good!" I am satisfied. I feel good. I write.

I guess that means....I'm a writer.