Category Archives: Fiction is Truth

Character, co-dependence, Emotional Health, Fiction is Truth, Health and Long Life, Metaphor, Uncategorized

The story from my tombstone

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Must have lived nine lives
Must have lived nine lives

Cat extracted herself from the pavement, like a frugal parent peeling fruit leather from the paper; anxious to get every morsel. “Geeeeeaawd!”  she yowled, “Again?  Five lives I have lived and you still want more?  Why can’t I just lie down here on the asphalt and call it quits?”

“God isn’t finished with you yet!”  barked Pluto from the door of Hades, “Out, out damned spot!  Go get a life.”

“So when do I get the dog’s life?”  mumbled Cat.

“I never even got to have a normal cat’s life.  What happened to basking in the sun, purring languidly, stretching and strolling?  Oh, I have done my share of arching my back and whipping my tail – and my share of mousing.  There was that year of four and twenty deer mice I threatened to bake in a pie. Oh, yes, I used my keen ears for the cause of music and my instinctive sense of direction to get other people where they needed to go.

“There were masters who required me to play the part of Puss in Boots. There were times I  wore the pants for tom. I have been aloof and unreachable, and have played the role of pretty much every molly in the world. I have foraged for my meals like an ally cat; licked and groomed and preened – and, been neat about my business, with or without the luxury of litter.

“Meouch, I even played the demeaning part of a dog; the come when I whistle, sit, jump, follow me like a puppy, role.  What’s feline about that?

“Aaaah,” Cat purred, “there were two distinct and wonderful lives when I nursed my kittens and carried them by the scruff of the neck. I was good at that.  I enjoyed it so much, I even carried around others’ offspring for a few seasons, including a new generation. It takes a village, you know.”

Often, I walk the narrow ridge atop the fence. In truth, I usually land on my feet when I fall.  But, it’s those times when I get hit by a ton of bricks, or a two ton truck of slander and misunderstanding, that slay me.

Five lives I have lived – maybe six-I’ll have to get the count straight while I still have a life left to live to write about it.  It has been an incredible journey.

My headstone:  Always starting over – must have lived nine lives.

What does your headstone say?

Character, Emotional Health, Fiction is Truth

Writer’s Lament

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DSCN4766journalsHe was always going to make an appearance in my book.  At first, the text was largely about him. But, people change over the years. With all the water under the bridge;  by the time I had scribbled my way through hundreds of pages, I had grown as thinker and writer.  He had morphed from hero to villain.  And She was still alone.

 

(Inspired in part by the writer button: Careful, or you’ll end up in my novel)

Character, co-dependence, Emotional Health, Fiction is Truth, Metaphor, Religion, Spiritual Well Being

Hell or Love ?

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_MG_0201There are many times I have been in need of a confessor.  Someone to whom I can spill out my guilt. One who will not be shocked; who will not tell me that if I just leave off sinning and do it the right way everything will right itself. Ah, you will protest, “We no longer need a high priest.  You can go straight to Jesus.”

But that is precisely who I cannot touch.

So, instead, I will step inside the confessional, the inner closet of my heart; draw the curtain and in the quiet I will weep and rage.  Finally, blubbering, I will whisper,

“Father, I am troubled.”

“Speak what is on your mind, my child.”

“What would you do if your boyfriend said to you,

‘You will marry me or I will make your life miserable’?”

“My daughter, nowadays we know to run fast from this type of man.  He is the type of man who will also make your life miserable if you do marry him.”

“Well, what if your family says,

‘Don’t you love your mother?  Don’t you love your grandma?  Your Mom and Grandma are going to be in agony for the rest of their lives unless you marry him’?”

“Child, you cannot be held responsible for the feelings of your mother and grandmother.”

“But, my mind and heart are such a morass of guilt, shame and confusion.”

“Why are you so troubled, daughter.  Have you already given yourself to this man?”

“Yes, yes I did once.  It was a long time ago. They told me he would send me to hell if I did not accept a relationship with him.”

“Gasp, but did they say nothing of love?”

“Yes, they told me I had to love him with my whole heart or be lost.”

“But did they say nothing of his love for you?”

“Oh, yes, they said I was not worthy of that kind of love.”

“But child, God is love.”

“They told me I couldn’t get to God unless I loved the man first.”

“But you believe in God anyway?”

“Yes, but I still struggle with the son.”

“Did they not tell you that the father and the son are one? You have been told that to get to the father you come through the son. Does not it follow that when you come to the father, you are coming to the son?”

“But that’s not what they said!”

“It doesn’t matter what they said, daughter, it matters what you know. Do you know God?”

“Oh yes, as creator, the essence of which everything is made. The spirit by which everything is held together.”

“And how have you found God to be?”

“God is love.”

“Have you ever considered that really love is all you need?”

“I would like to believe that, but sometimes I can’t feel love at all.”

“It’s not something you have to do at all, child.  It is something I do.  My love is big enough. My love is all you need.”

 

Addiction, Books and other Soul Food, Character, co-dependence, Emotional Health, Family, Fiction is Truth, Holidays and Traditions, Spiritual Well Being, Uncategorized

27 Dresses, chick flick with a message

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musingIf you have ever been on the care-taker side of codependent; continuously putting the needs of others above your own, you need to see this movie.

The message of “27 Dresses” was one I sorely needed to hear. It was about loyalty and persevering in service to others-to a fault. It was about a journalist who intuitively pointed out the flaw of the caretaker and, deft as a counselor, kept his focus on the issue and the cure. It was about a best friend who admits her own moral compass does not always point due north, but still cares enough to hold Jane accountable.

In the movie “27 Dresses” Jane finally learns to speak up for herself. The things she says are truths that need to be spoken. But, she does it all wrong. Her friend Casey points out that she unleashed 20 years of hurt in a cruel way. Instead of just going straight to the person and speaking the truth, Jane waited until she was completely angry and then exposed her sister publicly. People suffered. Jane suffered.  Some important relationships were nearly lost.

I have been there before; both on the job and in the home.  It is a place where you perform a small intervention (as it was termed in communications class), but something goes wrong.  Either you do it horribly wrong or it is received in the worst possible way.  The result is a complete and absolute end of the relationship.  Talking has no result.  Apologies go unheeded. Reconciliation and restoration are out of the question.

Why is it so hard for a people pleaser – someone who really does care about others- to speak directly? How is it we think that covert hints are better than direct confrontation; clever exposures more valid than courageously speaking our own needs?  Is it wise to keep stuffing our own wants until we explode in overkill? As a result of covert, clever overkill; I have been accused of being mean and controlling for exposing the weaknesses and deceit of others, when I most want to be known as a loving and accommodating person.

“27 Dresses” is also a story about second chances. It turned out alright. Jane was contrite about doing it wrong and she immediately acted on doing things right to the favor of her future.  Her sister took the chance to hear and be heard and it benefitted her future behavior as well. Both were better people for truth spoken and heeded.

Some things I covet from 27 Dresses:

1) friends who stick with you and hold you accountable until you do the right thing the right way; family who loves unconditionally,  and the chance to keep practicing until you get it right.

2) to be like Jane, tirelessly doing unto others what I would have them do for me.

3) to be so true to myself that it raises the bar of loving my neighbor as I love myself.

Pretty strong messages for a chick-flick, don’t you think?

Addiction, Books and other Soul Food, Character, co-dependence, Emotional Health, Family, Fiction is Truth, Health and Long Life, Uncategorized

Would you like your closure before or after death?

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ProbingI have heard psychologists recommend it as important to get closure before the death of  a significant other; to confront the father who abandoned, the mother who neglected or the parent who exacted too violent a punishment, however just. I know healthy adults who had these conversations with aging parents with happy result. Sin was acknowledged, forgiveness was offered and accepted – sometimes even begged.

When death comes unexpectedly soon and we are left with question after question and no closure; what then?

Many years ago, when I was a fresh divorcée; raw from every attempt to keep a husband who wanted freedom, I heard a panel of young widows on Focus on the Family. They were discussing with Dr. Dobson the pain of their loss.  One said the most painful time was when she saw a man checking out at the store.  From behind, he looked like her husband.  She resisted the urge to run throw her arms about him and was devastated when he turned and the illusion was broken.

I knew something of that experience, and longed to give my response. Though the finality of divorce is a bit stickier than the finality of death; in a small town, the chances of actually meeting my estranged husband at the store were real. So too, the possibility of seeing him with another woman. Restraint was essential, denial useless.

Over time, I came to see that denial might have been faced with healthy result much earlier in the relationship. I endeavored to write a novel about it-to help others with my experience. That book and two others remain works in progress.

TTTD Ebook promoEnter psychologist turned author Bonnie Grove whose book “Talking to the Dead,” deals with similar issues of love and loss, appeasement and denial – and closure.  Only this is closure with the already dead.

What do you think?  What would you want? Is it better to unmask denial or betrayal and find closure with the living; or to discover, after death, those things you never wanted to know?

 

Family, Fiction is Truth, Holidays and Traditions, Politics, Religion, Spiritual Well Being, Uncategorized

We agree on apocalypse

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Cherry Odelberg, Photo Kevin Decker 2010, legwarmers Andrea Shellabarger, necklace Kelly Hayzlett

God bless the founding fathers and Abraham Lincoln for setting Thanksgiving AFTER general elections so that families can gather and be thankful for each other with some semblance of peace. I doubt the members of my immediate family would have stayed more than 10 minutes at the same table or under the same roof had there still been opportunity to alter the vote through information, debate or influence.

As it was, we shared a great meal with conversation dominated by stories of personal success or dreams.  Afterwards, we made music together with piano, organ, guitar and vibraharp. Mostly, the men listened and allowed my mother, my sister-in-law and me to dawdle about at the instruments and fumble with Christmas Carols.

For those of you unfamiliar with my family of origin, let me quickly clue you that my only sibling (a brother) is a cerebral, Phd toting geneticist who has done extensive stem cell research.  My parents are conservative, fundamental, salt of the earth representatives of the greatest generation; champions of the idea that the final answer may be obtained through keeping a simple list of ten or 12 things. These things were clearly interpreted in, say, 1940 or 50 and should always remain how they used to be. I forever and always have been and will be caught in the middle; moderate, compromising; trying to please everyone and thereby pleasing no one;  alternately shamed and scorned by both sides.

Friday evening found my brother, my sister-in-law and me at the movies – Lincoln, to be specific. During the after movie hot chocolate and discussion, my brother mentioned that there were two more movies he wants to see this season:  Chasing Ice (this is not a hockey movie, in case you were misled by the title) and Bidder #70 (I myself want to see Les Miserables but the topic at hand seemed to be global warming and the Bush administration not the effects of the French Revolution).

My brother is convinced that global warming is progressing at such a rate as to soon bring about a cataclysmic event. The astonishing thing is that everyone agrees on apocalypse.   The liberals believe it is coming as a result of global warming.  The biblical conservatives believe it through prophecy.  Writers proclaim it through speculative  fiction.  The younger generation lives breathes and thinks post apocalyptic. Over the decades, the Huxleys, Jenkinses and Collinses among us have written tomes on the theme.

Is that not a miracle?  We all agree on something:  Apocalypse is coming. Problem is, we disagree on how to approach it.

I voiced this thought to my daughter on the phone – she the Y generation Christian Anthropologist, rock and rage drummer through the week, sometimes youth and worship speaker and musician on the Sabbath.

Me:  Isn’t it strange how the liberals and Christians agree that apocalypse is coming?  The liberals are trying to stop it by curtailing global warming. The Christians are making every effort to stave it off by repentance and moral house cleaning.

She:  meanwhile the Jews are scurrying around rebuilding the temple…

Is there any question apocalypse is coming? Is the question merely; how?  or when?  Or is the issue “woe to him or her by whom it comes?”

Books and other Soul Food, Character, co-dependence, Emotional Health, Fiction is Truth, Spiritual Well Being, The Rules, Uncategorized, Wealth and Fame

I am mildly disappointed in The Hunger Games

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Cherry Odelberg, photo credit Kevin Decker 2010

I have just finished reading The Hunger Games.  It was a great book. I am mildly dissatisfied with the conclusion.  Before I proceed to analyze why, I am sure you have one of two possible reactions which must be dealt with before you can concentrate on what I have to say.

1. Why are you just now getting around to reading this book?

OR

2. What is a 58 year old woman doing reading a YA fiction book?

The simple answer to both questions is: I am a writer, mother, grandmother and I hold down job(s) in the real world.

The Hunger Games (Suzanne Collins, 2008), is more than a dawning of love between vampires or fidelity and character among institutional witches and it is worth a thorough read.

The overall narrative initially and consistently reminded me of Animal Farm or Brave New World, a couple of futuristic stories in the junior great books anthologies, and some ancient myth.  It is a book to entertain, to take you on adventure, to make you think. And thinking is what I did as I turned pages – faster and faster into the wee hours.

My first disappointment came with Peeta. I wanted him to be less passive, more warrior.  But he is only sixteen.  How much can you expect of a 16 year old, a grasp of all the virtues and character traits including Love?  These are issues I yet ponder at my age and I am a voracious reader in part due to my endless search for the ideal. Peeta certainly grasps the essence of unconditional and enduring love. Also, it is hard to find fault with his determined philosophy to not let the competition change who he is.  Why do I have trouble with his inactivity and passivity, do I not truly believe all you need is love?

My lingering disappointment has to do with the ending. She took the fruit and gave some to him – but they didn’t eat it, not really, they only pretended to. They outsmarted the gamekeepers and the Capitol, but, in so doing, did they compromise who they were? What if they had taken the fruit and swallowed it? Might rebellion have broken out  in the districts immediately?

Perhaps a Romeo and Juliet suicide is not the proper death to glamorize as an example to the YA of today. We have been aware of a high suicide rate among the young ever since I was in high school. Publishers, gatekeepers, vocal Christians and psychologists alike would frown on a dual suicide ending. No, besides ending the writer’s opportunity for a Katniss and Peeta sequel, a suicide ending too, would have been disappointing.

So, for the sake of honor.  For the sake of everything good and right and true and heroic.  I would have a true martyr’s ending. It would have been impossible not to cry. As it was, my only tears while reading the book were brought on by the district 11 bread parachute.

In my ending, Peeta flung his knife. Katniss laid down her bow. They were shot instantly for their rebellion and disobedience. Rebellion in districts 12 and 11 broke out and was widely imitated in other districts. Were their families in danger?  Of course. Family is always in danger. It is simply a matter of drawing a line in the sand sooner. In this way, Peeta’s integrity remains intact as does Katniss’s courageous honor. As it was, she took the fruit and gave some also to Adam, I mean Peeta, and the ideal took a step backwards.  But, they were only 16 after all. How could they know that the integrity of their controlled Universe rested on one decision; that all hell would later break loose; that they would live only to fight again?

Character, Emotional Health, Family, Fiction is Truth, Spiritual Well Being, Uncategorized

Do you deserve compassion and forgiveness?

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Today, I am thinking about Vanessa Diffenbaugh’s wonderful work; The Language of Flowers (2011), which I have read twice in the past 96 hours.  I cannot get over the enduring love, understanding and forgiveness expressed over and over by the supporting characters; nor the deep understanding of human character and personality disorder exposed so profoundly by the writer.

I want to write like that; to plumb the depths of Hades and return victoriously with Eurydice; leaving my readers entertained, satisfied, hopeful, yet with the knowledge that life still takes work.  Happily ever after does not happen without addressing the issues one day at a time.  Nor does it happen without self-awareness and a compassion for the heart pain of others.

All too often, I subconsciously agree with the adage,”She made her own bed, she can lie in it,” or, “well of course he hurts, he brought it on himself, he deserved it.”

My great take away from this book has to do with what you or I went through. Just because you / I deserved it, does not justify the pain or make it less or any easier. This is true understanding and compassion. Let us be gentle with one another.

Addiction, Character, co-dependence, Emotional Health, Fiction is Truth, Health and Long Life, The Rules, Uncategorized

Thoughts on over-responsibility

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There is such a thing as over-responsibility.  I am notoriously over-responsible and it has cost me every relationship I ever lost. It comes as a result of over-compensating for those who are irresponsible, who alter our lives for the worse, or wreck our lives and theirs by being irresponsible.  Sure, when I took up the slack, it made the other person obviously, glaringly in the wrong for being irresponsible; but it left me alone, bereft of my relationships and love, looking righteous and self-righteous; and responsible. Oh, so commendably responsible! Is that what life is all about?

First of all, let me say that over-responsibility is not something you pick up casually by walking into a bar-or even walking into someplace you are supposed to be.  Over-responsibility is a genetic trait and it is also behaviorally conditioned. Not only do I have a genetic predisposition for over responsibility, the people who gave me the genes also polished the grain with legalism and endless praiseworthy expectations.  While I was never good enough, I also knew I was better than everyone else. The only course of action was to keep moving ever forward toward perfection. Just as you can never love too much, you can never be too responsible.

It happens inevitably when I work for others.  There comes a time I find myself saying, “Ooops, pardon me for becoming so invested in your vision that I felt a sense of ownership and began to implement my own great ideas and methods.” I tend to forget that while people recruit you to further their dreams and goals,they also hire you to do it their way, not to edit or improve on their vision.

My counselor once said I needed to forget about being right.  “Quit concentrating on doing the right thing and being right, and do what you want and need.”  That seems so counterintuitive; so irresponsible, so decadent, so selfish. So selfish to do what the God of the universe has called you to do; to quit sacrificing yourself to make up the deficiencies in the responsibilities of others?  Wait a minute. Making up the deficiencies in the responsibilities of others; is that self-sacrifice or meddling and controlling?

Over responsibility keeps me from asking for help. It looks, it appears, so selfish to be irresponsible to the mores of society; to let anyone else shoulder part of my load, to ask for help in something so ridiculous when I can just do the work myself and muscle through. I know the rules; you make your bed, you lie in it. After all, I got myself into this mess, I am responsible for getting myself out. Besides, “if you want something done right, you need to do it yourself.”

I used to cite my greatest strength as, “getting other people where they need to go and having a knack for figuring out just where it is.” Not so anymore. The characters I write in my novels resemble me. I write what I know.  Happily, re-reading and editing a manuscript is often a timely reminder and has the same effect as reading a self-help book.

How about you?  Are you overly responsible?

Character, Emotional Health, Fiction is Truth, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Photos, Spiritual Well Being

When Debris Becomes Life

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I love to walk. I loved to walk on the beach when I lived in Edmonds, Washington last year.

As I walked on the beach at low tide, I would see interesting debris; things the tide had washed in and then left stranded on the sand or rocks. Besides the usual crabs and kelp, there were empty soda bottles, food containers. Those didn’t stay long.  Either the tide washed them back out, or community minded folk who have adopted the beach strolled by and picked them up, delivering them to the proper recycle receptacle.

There are other relics on the beach; random poles not seen at high tide, remnants of piers and docks that used to be, which are no longer serviceable as anything but roosts for eagles and momentary resting places for seagulls.

From time to time, I saw some rubber gasket like things, about eight inches in diameter.  These were strewn randomly, sometimes caught between two well worn rocks, or half buried in sand.

There is an upscale marina located in the area, I took these halved donuts to be bits of boat or dock protective bumper apparatus.  How careless, thought I, in an otherwise well maintained marina and port; these things are not collected and recycled or tossed. A few times, I thought of asking someone, but just never got around to it.  

Early in July, I was able to attach myself to a noon hour, ranger guided tour of the beach at very low tide. It was here I learned that the supposed gaskets I had been observing were actually egg cases for the Moon Snail. When the Ranger told us this, I thought she was joking; pulling a seaside equivalent of a snipe hunt on us; particularly me, a born and bred inlander, newly arrived at the sea. Further research proved this to be a bonafide bit of marine biology information.

And now, I cannot help but wonder, how many things have happened in my life that I have considered debris, trash; that were actually life giving? How many jobs, friendships, or challenges have I tossed and recycled before they were hatched? How many times have I said, “God, you must be joking!”  When I was staring at a golden opportunity?