Skip to main content

The pen's in my hand


I never considered myself a good writer. I still don’t. My vocabulary is never as dynamic as I intend. My words lack the poetry I desire. Often my writing is in need of some polishing. Yet even with all my insecurities about it, shadows of my thoughts are available for anonymous voyeurs of my words.

In the past ten months, I have begun to own the wisdom I often impart to my students. Writing can help you process what is happening in your life - be it change, loss, anger, celebrations, etc… What you do with it is up to you. It is the process of writing that contains the power. What began for me as writing for others, a way to keep those close to me informed of my crazy world, has turned into a part of my life. I now write for me. That others enjoy it and follow along with my life, is a compliment. (I am shocked and amazed by the number of people who read and the many different countries represented. That is an entry for another time.) Writing has become a way to slow down the spinning in my head. A way to process and prioritize the important things in life. A way to get out of the mire of negativity and find the positive. It is my story. My life.

I look for creative and different ways to tell my story; the same way I look for creative and different ways to live my life. I want to keep things new and fresh in both what I put on paper and the adventures in which I engage. The writing will continue as will this craziness that is my life.

I am unwritten
Can’t read my mind, I’m undefined
I’m just beginning
The pen’s in my hand, ending unplanned
~from UNWRITTEN by Natasha Bedingfield

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Aging sucks.....or does it?

Upon first thought, watching a parent age sucks. Unnoticeable at first. A bit of a stoop, some creaking in the knees, whitening of the hair. The doctor’s visits begin, as do the pills One for high blood pressure, another to thin the blood, and a handful of vitamins to top it off. The signs are there, but it is easier to see him as he has always been. My father, a pillar of strength. Until my pillar was knocked off-kilter. A simple surgery and the mortality of my father looked me square in the eye when the drugs took hold of his brain. Amidst his fidgeting and confusion, I realized…AGING SUCKS! And then….enlightenment dawned upon me….AGING IS BEAUTIFUL Wrinkles tell of smiles while silver hair speaks a life of memories. Knees creaky after years of kneeling in prayer, offering up a lap, and climbing up the stairs for one more kiss goodnight. Almost forty-eight years of memories nestled in my heart. Memories of my father. Taking us to church each Sunday Building and fixing ...
2 comments
Read more

My Top 10 of 2010

At the stroke of midnight 2010, I was in New York City celebrating the year with a bunch of teachers from Uganda. I looked around me wondering how my life had gotten so good. My life was turning out quite different from the way I planned it 30 years before. Little did I know that 2010 was the year my life would begin anew. The year of reconnections. 10. The Unexpected From chickens to unemployment, private school to public school, house of four to a house of two, Sean moving back and a pimping Caddy, the unexpected continued throughout the year. It began with Stu Pecker Feathers, the chicken that wandered into our yard in the middle of the city of Pueblo. Stu found herself a place to roost and laid a dozen eggs before we said goodbye. As the school year ended, I found myself questioning if private school was where I wanted to be and Tony found himself out of a job. I found myself living in North Carolina with Patti, while Tony lived in New Hampshire with Sana. Surprisingly, Patti thriv...
2 comments
Read more

Fiery Passion

It is 10:44am on Wednesday morning. I sit here in a darkened classroom with no power. During the last 24 hours I have walked a student down to the office with a big knot on her head as the result of a fight; counseled the other half of the fight on different choices she could have made; been an object of a discussion between two teachers; backed my car into a ditch; and restrained a girl. Oh, yeah, and I taught about Civil Rights a bit also. My life continues to be an adventure! Fast forward nine hours. My day at school has come to a close giving me a few moments to sit and reflect on the adventure of the last day and a half. I continue to contemplate what could be done to teach the girls how to embrace the fiery passion they have within rather than to let it out through fighting. Let’s take a walk back through time….. In every other school I have taught in, teachers have a lunch break. This is not the case at BMS. Teachers eat with the students, albeit at a separate table. We...
Post a Comment
Read more