“We write to taste life twice. In the moment, and in retrospect.” ~Anais Nin
I’m reading this book that came highly recommended by a blogger that I love and actually kind of know in real life.
Stephanie May, (do yourself a favor and read her blog, The Lipstick Gospel) recommended Bird by Bird by Anne Lammott at training camp.
~ Stephanie May, The Lipstick Gospel ~
A glass and a half of two buck chuck Shiraz, a disturbingly crackly (given that it is gas) fire, and nearly a whole dark chocolate bar later, I am all inspired to write something, anything will do, since obviously all of life looks different (and certainly more romantic and noteworthy) through the lense of prose.
I really loved blogging on my Race last year. Is it weird to say that my blog started to feel like some weird part of me? Almost as if I experienced life differently when it was with the mindset of how I would write about it. Some of my most tangible memories come from things I later wrote about.
~ Seeing Mount Everest and the HImalayas for the first time. ~
In this book, the author talks about how to get to the point that you are at least a half decent writer. People tell me I am a “good writer!” once in a while, but I can’t see it, because my writing is littered with the simplest of grammatical errors, thoughtless wording, and cliches. Sometimes I care and try to fix them, and other times I don’t because that isn’t the point anyway.
By the way…my name is Bethany and I have a problem with run-on sentences and writing blogs that are three times longer than they ever needed to be.
But I digress.
My first writing assignment is to set aside one hour every day and write every single thing I can remember from my childhood. Omit nothing, including the thoughts and whims and feelings you had at the time that you were kind of ashamed of and pretty sure you needed to suppress or risk getting sent to the guidance counselor’s office.
Kind of thing.
But here’s the problem.
I have far too many things I want to do with my life to commit an hour a day, every day to just writing about my childhood in the hopes of some half-decent writing skills emerging.
Because I also want to learn to play the piano again. After 9 years of lessons, I know I have it in me to sit down at a piano and run my fingers over the keys and make some sort of awkward, sort of beautiful music, and maybe even find some sort of free therapy and artsy-fartsy self-expression coming out of it all.
And I want to learn how to cook.
~ Cake Balls! Helped my sister with a successful kitchen venture! ~
Because, in addition to my slightly alarming inability to dress myself in any cute, trendy, or generally acceptable adult fashion, the kitchen is at the top of my list of most intuition-lacking places. I so badly want to learn a thing or two about what’s what in there, even if I learn just for holidays and birthdays, which is good enough for me.
After all, nobody ever died from living off of peanut butter and banana sandwiches and yogurt.
Oh and I definitely want to travel my butt off. Seeing some of the world only reminds me how much MORE there is out there, and I still haven’t really been to Europe. I have never traveled in any significant way without a missions-mindset, and maybe I won’t be able to enjoy myself.
But let’s assume I will.
I haven’t traipsed around Rome pretending I know something about art, or strutted around Paris in uncomfortable high heels (looking like a baby giraffe) pretending I maybe-sort-kinda know something about fashion and refinement (which I decidedly don’t).
~
~Pinterest~
I haven’t sat drinking dark beer being morose and darkly romantic on rainy days in Ireland, or sat on a terrace eating tapas and watching hopelessly romantic Spanish men woo their wives in Barcelona, or tip-toed silently through the snowy streets of Prague while muttering under my breath about hating cold weather.
And more importantly than all of that, there are children and prostitutes and homeless people in super un-sought places desiring to know that Jesus is all about loving them.
Where I will be sleeping amidst rats and roaches and taking cold showers and eating plain white rice every day and not caring about any of that stuff because I so deeply love the people I am with, their quirky personalities making up for any lack of “amenities.”
~ Our village church in Rwanda, July 2012 ~
Did I mention that I really need to fall in love one of these days? To throw my head back and laugh at things that aren’t even funny and have that punch-drunk-love giddiness that makes everything exciting again…a love that doesn’t end badly, for once. And to let him take my hand and lead me places, like through a crowd at a summer concert, or through a maze of fragrant Christmas trees, or back down an aisle lined with cheering, clapping people we both love.
And to let him kiss me in the silence of snowfall, by his car before he goes anywhere, and in the kitchen when the day has hardly begun. And to scream and fight and throw a tomato sandwich at him once in a while if I need to, but only once in a while. I have plans to be the best wife ever, so I guess I can’t throw too many tomato sandwiches.
~Pinterest~
Plus I want to learn another language…Spanish would be just fine, which seems reasonable, right?
And I really want to be artistic, to create something, which maybe writing will count?
Oh and I want to be an incredibly stellar, well-rounded, well-informed nurse. I am a long, long way from this.
And I need to adopt a child that would otherwise live in a hopeless situation, and have a handful of my own kids too. We’ll live simply in a small-ish house with bunk-bed bedrooms, rice and beans for dinner, Jesus in every conversation, and hand-me-downs, without much money or space, probably, but definitely a lot of love and media-free memories.
Plus don’t even get me started on the ever-growing pile of books I need to read or risk missing an amazing story. And movies I need to see, but I can only watch those in 20 minute increments because then I think of some other project I have yet to complete that I would rather be doing.
~Pinterest~
Plus there are dogs to rescue and take for walks, trees to climb, fires to stoke, bikes to ride, cozy nights in to relish, karaoke songs to sing, crafts to half-complete…
How am I ever going to find the time to learn all of the Bible I want to learn, to smell all the candles in the Hallmark store, to drive all over everywhere just to sit around chit-chatting with people I love…
and ever actually write anything meaningful?
For those of you familiar with Myers-Briggs…I am the poster-child for ENFP, if you couldn’t already guess it. My ever-whirring, ever-hopeful-for-all-life-has brain wears even me out sometimes.
But life is to be lived and lived fully, so until I am on my dying breath then I am not going to give up on any of these things.
Do you have a list of things you desperately want to do but you know will take time and discipline to accomplish? I would love to hear where you feel this way too!
~Pinterest~
*I own no rights and claim no credit for any of the “~Pinterest~” labeled photos anywhere on my blog*
