The Best Is Yet To Come

Hello,

I know it's been quite a while since I've blogged, and I whole-heartedly apologize for that.  I must say that it has been an amazing start to 2017.  In March, I became the proud recipient of the Parenting Media Association's Gold Award for my article featured in Central Penn Parent's Capabilities magazine published last fall—the highest award possible for the publication.  I was so thrilled at this honor that it's still hard to believe!  If you haven't read it, I posted it a couple of months ago.

This week, I spoke in front of a class at Messiah that one of my good friend teaches who also has Cerebral Palsy.  The class is entitled, Disability and Society.  (What a name!)  As I began my presentation, I looked over the small gathering of faces, eagerly awaiting the start of my speech.  I was suddenly struck by the magnitude of the impact I had on the students.  Like I said to my friend, what an awesome group.  It did my old heart really well.  Hehe!

In the past few months, I've been awed at the outpouring of support, encouragement, and overall love I've received.  As I celebrate another birthday next week, I realize the best is yet to come.  I can't wait to see what happens next!

Thank you all!

Celebrate With Me

I just realized I haven't posted here for over a month.  My bad!  With the fabulous advent of a new computer and busy days, time seems to have gotten away from me.  Needless to say, this week has especially been uplifting because the first article that I wrote for the Capabilities magazine (Central Penn Parent) was published!  As a writer,nothing compares to seeing your name in print.  I must say the outpouring of support and plaudits are overwhelming!  I re-posting it in my blog in case those who haven't read my article can.  Feel free to comment. 

Have a fabulous weekend, everyone!

http://www.centralpennparent.com/2016/a-story-of-hope/

Monet’s Garden

Today, I came upon an article I thought fit nicely with the post I wrote about Emily Dickinson’s garden a few weeks ago.  As we try to calm ourselves in our fast-paced world, it is nice to know nature is always there, waiting for us as a refuge.  I have always loved Claude Monet’s artwork and found a certain peace, as I look at his various works.  I hope this article speaks to you as it did me!

Have a good weekend, and if you feel so compelled, comment!

http://www.smh.com.au/lifestyle/homestyle/what-we-can-learn-from-monets-garden-20130721-2qces.html

A Writer’s Quandary

 

In today’s world, it’s all about emotion; feeling—we say what we think and lay it out in plain view—for public consumption—it’s all at our fingertips (or toe tips) as they say.  We continuously feed off other’s views, and, yes, even beliefs, subsequently morphing and adopting them as our own.  Some, though, are reticent, not wanting (or willing) to give the world a window into their disguised soul.  Recently, through other’s critiques of my writings I discovered I am one of these individuals, and consequently, wondered why. 

One of my favorite pastimes is the study of American History.  I guess why I love it so much is because the reader (or viewer) has to sort through words alone to glimpse the writer’s intent on a given matter, but rarely feelings, like a stoic puzzle waiting to be fit together.  Even in more recent personal history, for instance, most of my grandparent’s generation maintained an emotional distance.  Personal matters close to the heart were off the radar, emotional ones even more so.  They, in their infinite wisdom, managed to go through life happy, for all intense purposes.

I’m rambling, I know.  Please forgive me!  My question is this: how do writers meld the old and the new, reveal the very sacred and yet not divulge themselves to the outside world?  I welcome all comments or suggestions!

Words

This week, as I began my internship with United Cerebral Palsy of Central PA, I pondered where an individual’s gift of words originates; to still or move the heart by the written language.  Why are we so captivated by the art itself?  A little word can have so much impact, beyond the word itself.  I’ve always been intrigued by this question and impacted by this even as a little girl.  Even as I write this blog, I choose my words so carefully, so succintly.  I feel the impending excitement, as I did last summer, that I hold the power to captivate just by the pressure of my toe, striking each key, and I thank my audience for putting this all at my “feet.”  For that, I am truly grateful!

Have a great weekend!

The Perpetual Flyer

Here is a blast from the past.  This is a poem I wrote over ten years ago, but I thought you would enjoy reading entitled The Perpetual Flyer.  It gives me pause to think I could write so well at an early age, as I prepare to embark on my second internship with United Cerebral Palsy.  I’m so excited.   

Have a fabulous weekend!

Sometimes in slumber, one dreams that all bodily limitations are cast away with the wind.

Feeling no physical restrictions that inhibit the body in the waking hours, the mind is free

to float through a labyrinth of uninhibited passageways all through the mystifying trance

of sleep.  One cannot describe the exhilaration.

that one feels actually flying.

It is as if the soul is free from any bondage it encounters in life.

Air whistling close to the ear, the cool sensation of air flowing over the body and the

overwhelming sense of freedom is all part of this fantastic experience.

Free from the body garb that hinders one in waking hours, one can feel what it is like to

be so alive in spirit.

It is a refuge from daily physical barriers that one encounters.  This feeling is to be locked

away deep in the heart of hearts and cherished for a lifetime.

--January 2, 2002

Carolinian Land

Today, I rummaged through my old writings, and found this poem I thought you all would enjoy.  In it, I try to capture the land’s beauty.  Feel free to post any comments.  Again, thanks for tuning in every week and I hope you all have a marvelous weekend! 

Carolinian Land

How barren are you, 

The wind sweeping across your surface. 

Remnants of grass toss to and fro,

Making you a never-ending sea of shining, flexible, delicate thread. 

Nothing but that whimsical grass is seen playing in the soft breeze;

Evoking an enigma of your quiet, yet effervescent presence. 

You will forever be loved as my own,

Even though you are miles away.

A barren land that is so honored and

Cherished that you will never be forgotten or discarded.

May your beauty remain throughout

Eternity. 

An Uninteresting Life

Hi All,

For a Christmas gift, I received the PBS produced program about Mark Twain, and I must admit, I thoroughly enjoyed watching it twice.  One quote particularly stood out to me, so much I felt compelled to share it with you, and here it is: “There was never yet an uninteresting life.  Such a thing is an impossibility.  Inside of the dullest exterior there is a drama, a comedy, and a tragedy.”

As we go through life, we think of our own as dull and uninteresting, but I’ve come to the realization that others perhaps might find it intriguing; just perhaps. 

On that note, I hope you all have a fabulous weekend!

Blessings

Everyday, but especially at this time of year, I consider all the blessings I have in my life.  Usually, the list includes a great Mom, wonderful friends and overall a super life, but there is one thing about Cerebral Palsy that affects some who have the condition.  It is not one of the challenges I face.

In my English class, we were assigned to do an “Interest Group” project.  My partner and I decided to research the link between literacy and Cerebral Palsy.  Going into the project, I assumed everyone with Cerebral Palsy had the same literacy abilities I have or close.  Surprisingly, though, I came to the realization that this was not the case.  Sadly, literacy for some who have Cerebral Palsy is a dream, which never comes true.  This week, I feel especially lucky that I had grandparents who taught me the value of the written word and that they were there every step of the way through my early educational life.  One of my many wishes this month is for those who have Cerebral Palsy, or are generally disabled to have a guiding force in their life, such as my grandparents were in mine, to show and share the power of the written word.  Hopefully, I will see that goal realized within my life span.

My Voice

I hope everyone had a good week.  I've decided to post a newly written poem I created for my English class this week.  I hope you all enjoy and comments are welcome.  Have a fantastic weekend! 

My Voice

It was summer; the summer after high school graduation,

all the fanfare gone,

all the anticipated success gone—

There I sat in my bedroom—

Waiting for what was to come—

Waiting to hear my voice—

A voice that could not be heard

Over the static of my own inhibitions—

Lost in a crowd of my mind,

I reached out to find my own voice—

A single, solitary voice that was mine. 

Diminished by imaginary voices, I reached towards my authentic being—

My real voice—

Traveling to that place, I felt in awe of my power—

My own rhythm—

My own sense of myself—

It was a new world—

A new, uncharted land.

At first, I was afraid,

Afraid to unleash that voice inside.

I knew was always there,

Like a friendly apparition—

Looking at a blank slate—

I fervently prayed for my voice to come—

To free itself from self-imposed chains—

It finally came, to my astonishment and relief.

And, oh, did it come in a torrent of thoughts and feelings—

Of those I did not know existed and they swam in my soul—

As I let the words flow,

I felt a release—

A release of my inner self that asked to be revealed

Throughout my life—

The friendly ghost finally freed—

Never to be held captive again.

To the surprise of all, that voice has remained to this day—

Strong in its desire to be heard and acknowledged—

That has a new thought to impart everyday—

My authentic voice is now audible—

For the world to heed!

I’m Back

 Hi Folks,

As promised, here is my weekly blog.  Better late than never, right?  As all of you are aware, I’m back at Messiah College and taking one of my last required English courses this fall in order to graduate.  I believe Composition Theory and Pedagogy will be a very thought-provoking class, much more so than others.  In lieu of a mentorship program requirement for the other students, I will be mentoring myself through my blog. 

On Tuesday, the first day of class, the professor handed out a list of quotes to respond to in writing.  I found a quote that fits me perfectly.  “Why am I compelled to write?  Because the writing saves me from this complacency I fear.  Because I have no choice.  Because I must keep the spirit of my revolt and myself alive.  Because the world I create in the writing compensates for what the real world does not give me.  By writing I put order in the world, give it a handle so I can grasp it…Finally I write because I’m scared of writing but I’m more scared of not writing.”  Strangely enough, this continuously has been an anthem throughout my life.  This is true, not only for me, but for others.  I feel if I didn’t write, I would burst at the seam.  As I said before, I hope I can engender change in lives similar to my own.  I hope that as readers saw in my blog throughout the summer, and continue to see, complacency is not a choice not only for me, but also for all of us.