What I did

by Kami Cornwall

So I found myself with four hours to kill in Spokane today. All. By. My. Self.  I KNOW! It's a long story that would leave you snoring, or at the very least, wondering about what the latest recipe on Pinterest is and you'd close my story. BUT! I'll tell you what I did.

Okay, first I have to admit I called my husband on my cell which went something like:
Me: Hi! So...I dropped the girls off but they won't be done until sometime between 1:00 and 2:00.
Him: Wait...now it might be 2:00?
Me: I know. Anyway, what should I do? Do you need me to pick up anything while I'm here? It's only 9:30.
Him: Not really. Why don't you just go hang out at the mall?
Me: 'Cause I'm not fifteen anymore. Um...yeah...I could do that.
Him: You could always catch a movie.
Me: True. (But how sad would that be? Watching a movie alone? Isn't that what losers do?)

Okay, so I went to the mall. And can I just say...that 9:30a.m. is a COOL time to go! People are cleaning, the escalators are frozen, and all of the shops look like they're posh jail cells. I bought a ticket to Star Trek (because I'm a fan and it's going to leave the theatres soon) but I felt GROSSLY guilty that I was going to see it without my other half. I got over it though.

Also? I totally went all girly and tried on some shirts at Down East Outfitters and bought some...and then got some kickin' earrings at another shop to match. And because I never buy things for myself, I texted my hubby to tell him of my conquest and he congratulated me. I know...we're weird. But to be fair, I usually talk myself out of buying new clothes. It's a disorder I think. Maybe not recognized officially by the APA but still...It's my affliction. Don't judge me.

I was thinking as I sat down to watch my movie that it would be SO NICE not to have my kids sitting there poking me, trying to talk to me through the movie, and needing to leave in the middle of some pivotal part to go potty...but then that small diet Coke (HUGE, by the way) seized my bladder, started punching it, and in order to refrain from exploding in the theatre, I actually had to excuse myself and run to the rest room. I think that's a sign of old age....and maybe a lack of caffeine tolerance.

The best part of the day was definitely coming home to my boys (who I was away from far longer than I had anticipated) who were doing JUST FINE all by themselves. Tomorrow I think I'll take them to see a movie.

I leave you with this random photo I found when I looked up "shopping" on Pinterest. Because it made me laugh out loud. Enjoy.

Have I Come to the End?

by Terri Wagner

One of my favorite commercials on TV was the guy who got the message "you have reached the end of the Internet." He stands there awed! Sometimes I think we all reach a point where we realize it really is the end. I don't mean the end of life or love or anything quite that dramatic...we just reach an end.

Probably my first "end" was turning 10. After all, you are now double digits and with rare exceptions probably will not reach triple digits. That was a big moment to me. Suddenly I was older. It was the end of single digit birthdays.

The next end was 13. Now I am a teenager. That had interesting possibilities. By the end of teenagehood, I will have gotten a driver's liscense, graduated high school, be in college, may be married, wow, that's a lot before I hit 20.

The next big end for me was 40. Suprisingly, 30 was not such a big deal for me. But 40 was old. I mean really old. Now that I am in my 50s, I am not sure why that was a big deal either. I only know I would rather go back to 20, ha.

The end of job. When I got laid off two years ago I never dreamed I would still be looking two years later. I had no idea that things would be so hard and so discouraging. I have really had to work to overcome feelings of hostility toward a former boss, feelings of regret since it was my dream job, feelings of discouragement as it looks like this job search will never ever really end.

The end of a writing project. Sometimes we are so focused on getting the writing and editing and publishing done, we forget there is an end. A moment where you know inside stick a fork in it, trust me it is done!

So when you reach the end of something, take a moment like the man in the commercial to stand amazed that the end has come.

Who Are You?

by Kari Diane Pike

Every six months or so, those of us who blog for ANWA Founder & Friends are given the opportunity to either renew our commitment to write here or to step back and allow someone else to fill our slot. If we didn't have so many empty slots right now, I would feel guilty for not giving up mine after so many years. Yeah, I'm an old timer here. And there are times when I question if what I have to say really has any value to anyone besides me...because I learn something new about myself with every post.

I think I've lost touch with the audience here. The dynamics have been changing at an every increasing rate. Don't get me wrong. It's a good thing! But it's important for me to know who is reading this and what it is you are hoping to find. Those questions are ones that every writer needs to answer before setting pen to paper or...errr...fingers to the keyboard or voice to the microphone.

My ANWA chapter has even been discussing how the theme of every novel ever written can be narrowed down to that one specific question of "Who am I?". Let that thought swish around in your brain for a few minutes while I continue (and I'll bet my first born that the Les Miserables Jean Valjean theme song is already stuck in you head...hehehe.) Stick with me here.

I'm just about finished with a psychology of personality class. For my final paper, I have to express my opinion on the very same question of "Who am I?". Here is my introduction:

Who am I? Why am I here? What happens after I die? Throughout the ages, philosophers and scientists alike have searched for and debated on the answers to those fundamental questions of personality. My own opinion about who I am and why I am here has been shaped and influenced by life experiences, secular education, the observation of other people, continuous religious study and that immeasurable spiritual element that makes me, me. Based on five basic philosophical assumptions of freedom vs. determinism, heredity vs. environment, proactivity vs. reactivity, and optimism vs. pessimism [Barbara Engler. (2009). Personality Theories, Wadsworth, Cengage Learning, USA, pg.12], I believe that I am a child of God – a unique spiritual being sent on a physical journey meant to teach me how to actively choose and create what I want to become, not only in this life, but in the life to come (Doctrine & Covenants 76).

While I share that divine, creative nature with every other human being, I have been endowed with gifts and attributes that make me one of a kind. I can act on my own initiative, or I can choose to let things happen to me. Either way, I am always making a choice. As I take responsibility for my choices, I increase my ability to change the way I think, act and feel. The choices I make now affect the choices available to me in the future.

If you're still with me, thank you. The point I think I'm trying to reach is to determine where I fit, not only in God's kingdom, but on a more specific scale --  in the world of blogging and writing. I want to realize and unlock the potential inside me and see myself, and others, as Heavenly Father sees us. I want to help others realize the potential inside of them! No one is destined to fail. Everyone is needed. I feel like this ship we are sailing has raised all the danger flags and sent out a call for all hands on deck. We are fighting a war and as fellow citizens in the household of God, we all have the call to serve each other and render the best that we have (Ephesian 2:19; Corinthians 12).

For me, that means accepting opportunities to increase my knowledge and to develop and practice new skills and talents -- no matter how terrified I might be! Over the past few months, I have been taking risks here and there -- opening doors that, in the past, I have been afraid to look behind -- and discovering things about myself I never thought possible.  Then I remember: With God, nothing is impossible. He loves us more than our mortal beings can comprehend and He has greater gifts than we can possibly imagine in store for us.

A number of months ago, I took a risk and accepted the opportunity to learn how to edit some SEO articles. I am now being handed the reins to take over as the managing editor of the www.gospelideals.org website. I took another risk and committed to giving a presentation in October on how to write copy. I now have two other opportunities to practice that presentation and share the knowledge that others have so graciously given to me. Every position I have accepted (despite the moments of sheer panic) has prepared me for greater things.

I dont' know where all these new adventures are leading me. But that's okay, because I know who I am. I know God's plan, and -- just like that Primary song says -- "I'll follow Him in faith."

Do you know who you are?

hugs~

Writers are Inventors and Re-inventors

by Cindy R. Williams

Writers are inventors. As we write, we invent something new. A book or story that never existed before for others to read. We are also re-inventors of ourselves. We cycle with the seasons of life. By the time you have lived for a half a century--an eerie shiver at the reality of this benchmark just ran through me--you will have lived many rolls in your life.

Walking down memory lane of my first half century I found that I began life as a mermaid, and am now a fairy. Weird but quite true none the less. Follow me here . . . my dad was a P.E. Coach and also managed our local swimming pool. We grew up in the water and often played mermaids.

My childhood home and both my grandparents homes were magical. I lived a life surrounded by lilac bushes and huge peach, pear and apple orchards with a meandering brook and fairy paths over bridges. There was even a Victorian home with goblins living in the cellars. I was an avid reader of fairy tales, including; Hans Christian Andersen, the Brothers Grimm and L. Wizard of Oz series by Frank Baum. I found myself inside the books like Madeleine L'Engle's "Wrinkle in Time" and Amanda Cockrell's "Shadow Castle". Each of these stories became a real part of my conscious world by day and my dreams by night. By the time I grew up and was ready to have children of my own, I was officially a fairy.

I'm now beginning my second century, and as such, all my experiences are coming full circle and combining with my gifts and talents in my many rolls as a daughter, sister, wife, mother, aunt, new grandmother, friend, teacher, writer, musician, mermaid, fairy.

Three months ago, I woke up with a new idea of who I am and how it is time to combine all these things I love and do into one great purpose. I am reinventing myself once again. I can't share with you what it is yet until much of the writing, scripts and production has begun, but I can tell you that I have been inspired to take this next step, this leap of faith, and I will soon be flying on the back of a dragon.

Well butter my....

 By Beckie Carlson

 I have reached that fun age when I can't eat whatever I want anymore. You know, where milk duds really are 'duds' and Rocky Road ice cream leaves a rocky road around your middle? I don't think it is fair or fun. The biggest annoyance is that the craving for these items has not gone away. My body still thinks it is twenty two and cries for candy. It's like a dang two year old sometimes....just take a nap already!
The funny thing is, when I do break down and have some sugary goodness, I fall asleep. Remember how kids get crazy hyper and run around like maniacs when we give them sugar? Not me, I seriously fall asleep.
The biggest problem with my wanting sugar and not being able to eat it comes from the fact that it causes me actual, physical pain when I eat it. I don't know what's wrong with me, but my body cries out in a larger than normal scream when I eat junk. You might think this makes it easy to avoid said bad foods, but I still eat them at times.
It makes me feel a little more pity for those people that are addicted to cigarettes and alcohol and such. As outsiders, we may look at them and think they are stupid or weak or possessed by a masochistic demon. But now that I am somewhat in their shoes...I kind of get it. The first time my doctor said I should avoid cheese because it was causing me pain, I should have said ok! no more cheese! Unfortunately, what I did say was....I'll try drinking peppermint tea after eating my super cheesy nachos and maybe that will help. It didn't. I've tried everything short of giving up cheese to avoid the pain cheese causes me. I wonder if that is what the mom that visits my school does. She comes in and complains about all her stomach issues and how she is sick all the time...and all I can do is hold my breath til she leaves because she is a walking chimney. Maybe she just loves smoking so much she isn't willing to look at the cold hard fact that cigarettes are killing her. I don't know, maybe my ideas are just crazy!
I think I'll get some cheese and crackers and think about it.....cause I said so.

Photo credit: http://images.teamsugar.com/files/upl0/1/12981/08_2008/cheese.jpg

Coming Down the Home Stretch

By Susan Knight

 

I’ve been laid up with ankle surgery, and despite thinking I’d have a lot of time to do things, life happened differently than planned. I’ve been sitting on the recliner with my foot up, watching television and crocheting. When I get antsy, I get up and go to my computer (I don’t have a laptop) thinking I’m going to have all this time to write, but then, with my ankle down, it starts to hurt. Back to the recliner.

I was hoping I’d have time to set up blogs and websites for platforms and social media. *sigh* I guess I just can’t sit upright long enough. Maybe that’s my excuse. The fact is, even though I’ve been reading up on it, I’m still not sure how to execute it all.

What I have been doing is a lot of thinking and some writing for my WIP. I got three-quarters done during NaNoWriMo and I’ve been trying to get that one last quarter finished. Maybe, with a few days left at home (I’m going back to work on Monday), I’ll at least have it mapped out and the rough draft finally finished. I’m coming down the home stretch—both for my book and my ankle.

Who knew it took so long to write a book? How do people put out one or more a year? Maybe they don’t have full-time jobs? No. I know a lot who do. Maybe they’re not as old (and tired) as I am? No. That’s not it either. What could it be? Lack of drive? Procrastination?

I’m going to go with my ankle has been out of commission for more than a year-and-a-half. I’ve been in constant pain. Half of my brain has been dealing with pain leaving only the other half in working order. Thinking and doing are exhausting, mentally and physically. I normally come home from work feeling like I've run a marathon.

I am praying so hard, night and day and in-between, that this second surgery has done the trick and I will be able to walk again—without pain.

Not trying to whine and not seeking sympathy. Just stating facts. I hope to join the real world again very soon, full of energy, enthusiasm, and able to think and act—pain free.

Hoping to rejoice soon as I get my cast off Friday. Fingers crossed.

Ahhhh. . . this is the life . . .

 

40

by Kami Cornwall

I have been sitting here staring at my computer screen for a good five minutes trying to encapsulate what it is that I'm thinking today. My thoughts are always so scattered that it makes it hard to get to the point. So what's the point today? I went to bed yesterday a 39 year old girl and woke up this morning a 40 year old woman. Of course every year I say, "I don't feel any older," and today would be no exception.

Do you ever have the unrealistic expectation that on your birthday you will wake up to hearing the Beatles'  Birthday Song blaring while streamers and confetti shoot out from the corners of the room? Yeah...no. I wasn't thinking about that at all. Ahem. But I do sometimes wish my parents were there to bake my cake (instead of baking it myself) and surprise me with a party (instead of telling my family what I'd like to do and who I would like to have over.) You know, those things that you don't appreciate when you're still living under your parents' roof.

I think my 25th birthday was the hardest to accept. I expected I was going to be like someone on the cast of "Friends," sitting in a coffee shop somewhere being trendy and making all others around me jealous. Instead I was serving a mission - doing more important things but feeling kind of invisible. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't have traded what I was doing for the coffee-shop life either. I knew that I was doing what was right, but just definitely wasn't doing the "glamorous" thing at 25.

My niece this year was lamenting turning 12. I know, right? So I told her that getting older is AWESOME. And it really is. This is what I'm learning as I get older: I am more bold with my statements because I care a lot less about what people think of me. I get to wake up to my kids shouting "Happy Birthday!" Forget the Beatles. I can go on a shopping spree and not worry about what my mom will think. The friends I have now are faithful and fun - not catty like some I had when I was 12. And I get to go to school because I want to...not because I have to.

Whether or not it's your birthday today, celebrate and dance like nobody's looking!