Claudsy’s Blog: Taking Stock

Ewam--Flowering Tree

Life wanders among the potholes presented to us each day, seldom weaving the exact course set for it; looking for adventure, security, fun, or whatever label we’ve placed on a goal post somewhere in our future.

Along the way, events happen to bring us up short, in time to take stock in where we’ve been and where we’re headed. This week so far has been one for taking stock. Some events are universal in impact.

Take yesterday, for example. Sister and I took the drive down to Arlee, MT, to visit one of our favorite places. We hadn’t been there yet this year. It’s an hour and a half drive, and when we go, we plan lunch out and a few stops along the way for photos.

We went to Ewam, better known as The Garden of One Thousand Buddahs. I’ve written about Ewam before—about its quality of peace and tranquility. We’ve been there during high summer and bright sunshine, Gloomy Spring and drizzle, and late fall when all of the flowers have gone by. The grass and flowers may change with the season, but the feel of the place never does.

Ewam--ApproachCalmness descends upon the spirit as one approaches the circle of The Mother. By the time the visitor stands before the pavilion, thoughts from the outside world have drained away, leaving only feelings of content and tranquility. It is a magical place.

We hadn’t gone for teaching, though such is provided there for those who wish to remain and learn the lessons offered and path extended to students. We had gone to reconnect with what we’d already found there. We’d gone to take in peace, to settle rumblings within, and to leave with spirits renewed.

Ewam Pool

When we returned home, our FB pages, news feeds, and private messages spoke of the horrors in Oklahoma. This news was important to us. We have so many friends and relations there. The scramble was on to see if all were safe.

Until bedtime, news feeds were monitored, messages were zipped from place to place, and talk centered on a death toll. Throughout the evening we clung to the calmness and tranquility given us earlier in the day. Nothing we could do at that time would affect what was happening in our old home area. Prayers had to suffice then, as they do now.

We each took stock in our own ways. I looked back at where we’d lived and how close that area had come. I remembered those in the storm’s direct path. And I took stock in the ways we were connected there.

I thought of my life now and that I had begun this path while living there. My plans took root in the Oklahoma soil. My life had become tangled in those of so many others. I’m left with prayers for those in need. I was blessed to have been an Okie for a little while.

Until another week passes, a bientot,

Claudsy

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Sunday’s Blossoms: Deliberately Bad

Courtesy of BJ Jones Photography

Courtesy of BJ Jones Photography

Those who popped in this morning to get the prompt for the day were greeted with one to boggle the mind.  Prompt #108 wanted us to wWrite a “Bad” poem.; not a poem about something bad, but one that was bad.

Like most poets, I’m one that tries hard to eliminate the bad so that something good appears before the eyes of the reader. And as usual, my resulting verse was one that circled around and ate its own tale. I hope you will forgive this intentional destruction of poetry efforts and enjoy the irony of it all.

It Stinks

Well, it does.
little thing can’t help it.
Its how it was made.
None can blame the
created for being brought
from the mold too soon.

It slides around, in search
of an appreciative pat,
only to find no hand raised
to lend it aid and comfort.
It can’t help itself or it’s odor;
its just a bad little poem.

Thought Ripples: Mindfulness: Where Does It Get You?

Photo Credit: Sergiu Bacioiu via Compfight cc

Photo Credit: Sergiu Bacioiu via Compfight cc

 I began a course recently from The Great Courses called “Practicing Mindfulness: An Introduction to Meditation. The professor is Mark. W. Muesse, Ph. D. from Rhodes College.

Meditation isn’t something new to me, but this type of application makes for interesting learning. Standard practice meditation involves delving into oneself, discovering those nooks and crannies we’ve been hiding from ourselves since we were born. It involves a direct stripping away, if you will, of the layers of protection we’ve placed around our feelings and experiences.

Mindful meditation cares nothing about those past experiences or those layers. Instead, it moves the practitioner along a series of deeper and deeper levels of awareness of everything outside the body, mind, and spirit. Don’t be fooled, though.

Dr. Muesse explains how this form of meditation operates.

“Some people consider meditation to be an escape from reality, but… Given its bold intention to attend unflinchingly to all of our [current] experiences without judgment, it is more precise to call mindful meditation an escape into reality.”

Mindful meditation works to encourage awareness of personal judgments, prejudices, and attitudes and to eliminate them; to become objective and non-judgmental to what we observe outside of ourselves. It achieves that goal by creating intensified observations  of our surroundings and our internal response to them. Once that awareness takes hold, the elimination of judgment becomes easier.

I’ve gone through the first few days of preparation before the actual meditation began, and I’ve started the meditation exercises. Now, the real work begins.

This practice has helped me become hyper-aware of my thoughts about things I observe. When I see someone, anyone, and make an internal statement about that person, good or bad, it’s an observation and a judgment. Pretty or not, slim or not, old or young; these are all judgments of a type. An act is bad or good. That, too, is a judgment. One can say “moral” or not.

What we commonly use as descriptors in conversation to designate one person from another is a judgment of sorts. Writers, especially, use these devices to interest the reader enough to keep turning pages.

Descriptors aren’t really the problem, though. It’s the moral judgments that are targeted; that “good or bad” judgment. Mockery, ridicule, and hatred brought about by nothing other than an imagined difference is destructive judgment.  These are the thoughts practitioners work to eliminate in themselves.

If total objectivity is achieved, does the practitioner become a mini-Spock without emotion, living on logic alone?

I can’t believe that we will ever achieve that level of objectivity. Even Vulcans had passions, after all. That’s why they began living by logic.

What I’ve discovered isn’t pure logic with this meditation. I found myself and a way to remove prejudices, large or small, that lurked behind a veil of descriptors. I discovered how many of those judgments I made each day, without conscious thought.

This is an enlightening experience. I’ve barely begun, but I see where this is headed. Will I be a better person through this practice? I like to think so. I know I’ll be a more mindful person, but never a mini-Spock.

Tableaux Present Pictures

African Herd Running

Poetic Bloomings’ In-Form Wednesday—The Tableau: 1+ verses, 6 lines each, 5 beat lines, rhyme optional. Title should contain the “Tableau.” Poem should reflect “picture or representation of the meaning of “tableau.” Picture should come to mind for the reader.

Grace of Form (Tableau)

Within one breath’s space,
Equine flyer soars
Over gates half its height,
Stretched in gleaming
Glory as rider
Seems to lift them both.

Upon a Wing (Tableau)

It rests, sloe wings spread
over leaf, its glowing
teal symbol flashing
its message for all
to take fragile peace,
share liberally.

Butterflies do sooth
cold hearts, pained psyches,
with delicate charm,
Indiscriminate
of those who share
peaceful beauty’s days.

On today’s Poetic Asides, we’re faced with a need for a poem about being “on the run” or “on the loose.” I was listening to African tribal-influenced music at the time and this is what came out. I kept the same form I’d used a couple of hours earlier to write for Poetic Bloomings.

Savanna (Tableau)

Hooves drumbeat forward,
Swerving, flowing, fast–
Running from pride’s threats;
Leaping, flying, blur
To eyes choosing prey
To feed family.

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Claudsy’s Blog: Characters on First and Third

Dragon girl

Every writer of fiction makes a choice at the inception of a story project. She chooses whether to write the piece in first person or third. As soon as voice is established, another choice comes into view—whether the story is happening in front of the reader’s eyes, or, if the main character is relaying a story about something that happened in the past.

There are specific reasons for each decision.

  1. Does the story line need to bring the reader into the immediate moment of the action?
  2. Does the main character need to get something from the past off her chest? (No wisecracks here, please.)
  3. Does the reader need to ride inside the head of main character to understand the motivations behind that character’s decisions and actions?
  4. Does the reader need to watch the action as a spectator in the stands, with an announcer behind a microphone, relaying all the action, many of which in off-field?

The main character drives these decisions. Some demand to tell their personal stories. Others seem to prefer letting someone else narrate the story, so that they can sit back with the audience for a broader view of the entire production.

Many writers who’ve been at the craft for several years say that when they listen to their protagonist, writing the story is easier, it flows more smoothly from beginning to end. The protagonist is more believable. Whether free formed from the ether, or carrying fragments of the writer’s life and personality, characters have preferences. And if the character is stuck in the wrong voice or tense, the writing is more difficult.

Both of these conditions are correctable. Going from first to third person and vice versa isn’t as simple as moving from “I” to “she,” however. Each sentence must be examined to guarantee that perspective remains constant to the new criteria and that dialogue and its tag lines flow naturally, in italics or quotes. Every observation made by the main character requires  consistency with the action and the verb tense.

While this seems like a lot of work, it is, at times, the only thing that can remedy an awkward story reading. When voice and tense mate well, the story reveals itself in all its glory. Let’s face it; some characters don’t like having people inside their heads all the time. They need the sense of privacy fostered by third person.

Writing either short stories or novels takes time. By learning enough about her protagonist from the beginning, the writer will make better choices about voice and tense. The need to switch either aspect  is reduced.

Characters color the writer’s dreams and play on paper. The best ones are the ones who know what time zones they inhabit and whether they hold the microphone or have handed it off to someone else. Whether in a comedy or drama, past or future, these imaginary people bring us entertainment.

Sunday Poetry and Anagrams

The Old Throne Room

Today’s Poetic Bloomings Prompt #107 asks us What’s in a Name. As with the writing challenge given us last month for NaPoWriMo, we get to pop our names into an anagram generator program and use anagrams created from our names to use in a new poem. There was a twist to this request, however, We were to take as many of the anagrams as we wished to provide lines or parts of lines within the body of the poem; not just for the title.

I admit it. I got a bit carried away since I had over 1000 anagrams to choose from. So I write a story instead of just a poem. Call it a short epic poem, if you will. I hope you enjoy it.

Legacy Tuned Out

In the long ago
A teacher came
To educate Lug Tony;
Whose gay uncle touted
a coy legend, tutu in hand, but
a decent guy, lout not at all.
He put forth a challenge
The teacher could not refuse.

Uncle threw down a crimson velvet
gauntlet, coy due to teacher’s fine face;
acutely tongued, Uncle said he had
located Tune Guy, musical genius
extraordinaire, to create a legacy
duet unto the people of his land.
Palaces and castles ordered
The world and nobility ruled it.
Uncle wanted his nephew to learn
the dance lute, gouty though it might be;
this a judgment in ducal tongue,
yet teacher took time to press for
particulars on his new student’s problem
when the lad arrived caged, unduly toted.
Wild-eyed and slavering, barking as
Would hounds to the huntsman’s horn.

“Ah, reluctant to learn a skill.”
Tune Guy stepped forward, bowing
Before he explained the situation.
“We have his lute acutely tuned. Go
To him and begin quickly, that I
May begin my Lunacy Etude. Got
To have it completed before the
Festival in a fortnight’s time.”

“We wish it to be the people’s
Official Gale County Duet,”
Uncle burbled, his eyes gleaming.
“We were given one word by your
agent—dulcet. You may begin
To sooth this beast, give him
Lute skill and grace for all.
You have little time to spare.”

Teacher gulped chagrin like
Fine wine and looked at his
Unkempt, feral pupil and imaged
A most unkind fate to come;
Future’s portrayal would paint
His new cadet lute, young
Lug Tony, as providing
Teacher’s final musical work,

Thought Ripples: Multi-tasking or Multi-contexting

brains!

brains! (Photo credit: cloois)

The New York Times recently ran an article titled “Brain, Interrupted” by Bob Sullivan and Hugh Thompson.

The following excerpt explains why I was fascinated by it.

“… There’s a lot of debate among brain researchers about the impact of gadgets on our brains. Most discussion has focused on the deleterious effect of multitasking. Early results show what most of us know implicitly: if you do two things at once, both efforts suffer…. In fact, multitasking is a misnomer. In most situations, the person juggling e-mail, text messaging, Facebook and a meeting is really doing something called “rapid toggling between tasks,” and is engaged in constant context switching…. We decided to investigate further, and asked Alessandro Acquisti, a professor of information technology, and the psychologist Eyal Peer at Carnegie Mellon to design an experiment to measure the brain power lost when someone is interrupted…. What the Carnegie Mellon study shows, however, is that it is possible to train yourself for distractions, even if you don’t know when they’ll hit.”

I read this account of the research done on the question of multi-tasking and wondered about the effect on students. If adults engaged in multi-tasking do so poorly in initial testing of activity interruption effects, would young children do better? Does a younger brain respond quicker to interruptions of focus; or because it is more flexible, does the ability to concentrate become effected enough to make studying difficult for the student?

If it’s possible to train yourself to handle distractions, aren’t children learning that now? To multi-task without losing the previous thought trail and focus would prepare the younger generation with a skill initially lacking in older people. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?

That question brings us to multi-contexting. Looking at the media environment that children use today, the question of concentration rises like cream to the milky top of attention. The number of diagnosed (accurately or not) cases of ADD and ADHD in both children and adults has risen dramatically in the past twenty years, as have the number of electronic devices we use on a daily basis.

Now we have a measure of distraction’s effect on brain function. There is a noted connection between interrupted tasks and one’s ability to get back on the mental track quickly. Perhaps additional studies could use both the factors of distraction and concentration for evaluation. This could shed some measurable light on the relationship. At the same time, researchers might learn if unused methods might counteract the effects of such distractions on concentration.

Researchers admit to knowing much less about brain function than is desired. Theory tells us that everything comprising our environment—within and without the body—affects the brain’s operation. A new piece of information now has been added. Much more, however, on this one aspect could help unlock entire worlds for science.

Building on Today’s Work

Writer's Stop

Writer’s Stop (Photo credit: Stephh922)

Hard work can pay off, but working hard isn’t the same as working smart. Both have benefits. Each also has complications. Whether one is a writer or any other sort of worker, these rules can apply.

Benefits of working hard:

  1. One can go to bed feeling satisfied that she’s done her best that day.
  2. One can see improvement over time, regardless of the learning curve.
  3. One gains respect from peers in the process.
  4. One can expect a long career.

Benefits of working smart:

  1. One can learn faster in the long run by taking time to listen to experts and follow time-proven methods today.
  2. One can see improvement in smaller increments and feel greater/quicker satisfaction with her progress.
  3. Respect comes from both achievement and methods of achievement.
  4. One’s growth in her craft can accelerate more rapidly and lead to greater impact for her.

Complications of working hard:

  1. Achieving satisfaction can take much effort and time before recognition of growth.
  2. Exhaustion/burnout rate is higher and more debilitating in its impact.
  3. Resentment is swifter toward those who seemingly achieve without having to struggle to make headway.
  4. Dissatisfaction with oneself rises exponentially with each perceived failure.

Complications with working smart:

  1. Learning from experts takes time and money—sometimes infringing on other life decisions.
  2. Things learned often lead to additional time spent learning more about something not needed at present to satisfy one’s growing curiosity.
  3. Learning creates desire to expand activities in an ever-growing circle of potential avenues of interest.
  4. New interests may take one away from the original intended path of endeavor.

One other factor comes into play here for both sides of this work equation. Is one’s desire to write for a living the goal? If it is, time becomes the immediate pressure cooker for creating one’s work life. The faster one can produce marketable work, the faster income arrives at the bank.

This brings with it an interesting caveat. If one’s entire goal is to make money, the writer may always struggle in one way or another. Here’s why.

A person usually chooses to write because of the joy experienced while doing so. The compulsion to put words and phrases on paper, to tell a story that can captivate a reader’s attention, to form a piece of verse that will haunt a reader for days, doesn’t come from the need to make money. The compulsion comes first and will/must take precedence or the writer will feel as if life is missing a major component.

No one can or should speak for others. These are facets of the writing life that I’ve discovered over the past several years. I’ve had successes and many failures along the way. I’m still learning, thankfully.

I’m fortunate that I have only myself to provide for. I can write what and when I choose and explore the many opportunities inherent in the writing business as I choose. I’ve moved from working hard to working smart, because it gives me what I need as a writer. I get to decide the pressure level I can accept, which makes it all good.

Along the way I learn as much about myself as I do about the world. And that is the most important aspect of this life to me.

May Begins New Weekly Poetry

Night Sky

Poetic Bloomings In-Form Wednesday Prompt—Trois par Huit (3×8 or Octa-tri) This is a short form containing 3 stanzas of 3,3,2 lines for total of 8 lines. Syllable count runs 3,6,9,12,12,9,6,3. Rhyming scheme of AAB, BBC, CC, where the last line is the title of the poem and summarizes the meaning of the poem.

Darkness Waits

Lives take time,
No reason and no rhyme,
A series of photos mind-captured,

Telling of life’s venues, taken as we mature;
Some color, others not, held for review’s future,
Marking time in mind’s drawers with dates,

Slowing with aging’s states,
Darkness waits.

#  #  #  #

Poetic Asides Prompt # 217—Write a confused poem.

Lateral View

We see others from front or back,
Never attending to sides,
Why is that?

Aren’t sides important to see wholes,
Each with crooks and crannies
That give depth?

Thin or thick, sharp or dulled,
Aren’t sides part of all
That move or stand?

Can a front and a back be
Without the lateral view?

April’s Final Poetry Challenge Day

NaProWriMo3

Day 30 of April‘s PAD challenge is a Two for Tuesday. We’re asked to write a finished poem. Write a never finished poem. Our choice to do one or both.

Dog Days

History teaches me
dogs come with pain
Of varying kinds;
Pain of housebreaking,
Pain of social training,
Pain of separation
For them more than me,
Pain of diet upsets,
And that last, worst pain—
Saying goodbye.

Four dogs of my own,
One sweet and blind,
One adventurous to
Guide me through life,
Another more timid to
Act as guiding guardian,
And lastly one in more
Need than me wanting
Only love and safety;
Each giving, each gone.

Caring too much for such
Companions makes letting
Go more complicated
And painful than many
Can feel or understand;
Makes it too painful to
Release, now insuring
A no-repeat scenario.

#  #  #  #

This final day of NaPoWriMo gives us another opportunity to stretch our lyric muscles.

Find a shortish poem that you like, and rewrite each line, replacing each word (or as many words as you can) with words that mean the opposite. For example, you might turn “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” to “I won’t contrast you with a winter’s night.” Your first draft of this kind of opposite poem will likely need a little polishing, but this is a fun way to respond to a poem you like, while also learning how that poem’s rhetorical strategies really work. (It’s sort of like taking a radio apart and putting it back together, but for poetry).

For this little challenge, I snagged my friend De Jackson Miller’s poem:

Six of One (De’s)

Not everything bent
is broken, not everything
cracked gets tossed.

Not everything spent
is spoken, not everything
broken is lost.

Only Half a Dozen (Mine)

Only nothing straight
Is whole, only nothing
Unmarred is held.

Only nothing saved
Is silenced, only nothing
Whole is secured.