The sun
is shining. There are chickadees and nuthatches at my feeders and the
thermometer is edging toward sixty degrees. I have hope that this is
it - one of the longest, coldest, most relentless winters in recent
memory is over . But despite the higher fuel bills, the endless cold
and the general inconvenience, this has been one of the best winters
I can remember. Sometimes nature goes to extreme means to remind us
to slow down, be quiet, think about our lives.
I was
lucky this winter. I had the luxury of working from home which saved
me from commuting - even from going out of the house on days when it
was too cold. I finished a lot of neglected projects - including the
rewrite of a novel I started years ago. For me this hard winter has
been a blessing.
I have
always believed that every single person comes in to this world with
a certain set of gifts and talents which it is our responsibility to
explore. For years I resisted writing out of a useful modesty that said
I didn't have anything to say that anyone would want to read. I call
this a "useful modesty" because I could rely on it to keep
me from doing what I needed to do - to write.
It has taken me years to understand that the gifts that are natural
to us are there for a reason - because the world needs them. Every time
I write an article and one person says "that meant so much to me"
I learn this anew.
Using our gifts is a form of reaching out. Think of the times a comforting
word, a gentle hug, or a sincere encouragement from someone changed
your mood or your day or your destiny. When we use our gifts we bring
a service to the world that makes life a little better both for ourselves
and for those who benefit from them. It is tempting to judge the quality
of our gifts by their economic viability. We live in a consumer-driven
society that teaches us to value only those things which come with a
significant price tag. This perception has kept more people from using
their natural talents than we can imagine and that is a great loss to
humankind. I think we need to change our perception of what has value.
If you plant a beautiful garden, do you expect it to generate income?
If you learn to tango, or make a perfect souffle, or restore an old
desk do you do it hoping for financial gain? Perhaps - perhaps it will
prove economically useful. But that is not why you do it. The things
that grow out of our passions and come from our hearts are nature's
gifts to us - and our gifts to the world. Financial compensation is
nice - but it is not the point. However, it does come in handy as an
excuse for not doing the things we are meant to do.
Maybe these fallow times - when the weather, the economy and the news
are dreary - can be used to reconsider our purpose. When everything
outside of us looks dismal, it is time to turn inward and explore the
world we find there. Don't let yourself succumb to the discouragement
of others. In "The Artist's Way", Julia Cameron talks about
"wet-blanketing", that nasty, insidious, subversive tool used
by those who would keep us in our places by preventing us from doing
the things that make our hearts dance. A wet blanket is a person who
has done nothing with their own gifts and is going to make darn good
and sure you won't either. Identify them for what they are. When someone
discourages you with comments about what a waste of time, or how self-indulgent
you are being, or who-do-you-think-you-are-anyway they are telling you
plainly and succinctly that you are doing something they wish they had
the courage to do. Just point your finger and say "hey, I'm not
going to let you wet-blanket ME!"
I started to tell you about my novel. I wrote this book because it was
something that I felt the need to do. When it was finished I was so
excited I made the mistake many first-time writers do, I showed it to
all my friends. Even though most of them were encouraging there were
a few who made such derogatory comments that I let my enthusiasm die.
I put my precious creation in a box and put it behind a door and left
it there for years. I couldn't handle the hurt of those unkind words.
But in the intervening years I have grown. When I opened the box again
that whole world was there still waiting for me. For weeks I spent hour
upon hour, wrapped in warm sweaters and shawls with pots of coffee,
sitting at my computer with the snow piling up outside my window. I
rewrote and polished and expanded and deleted and made that novel the
best it was in my power to make it. The winter flew by and each hour
was a gift.
Will a publisher want to buy it? I don't know. It is with a literary
agent now and I am hopeful. Will it ever be published? Only time will
tell. Was it a waste of time? Not one second of it. I brought forth
a world that had been given to me and I believe in my heart that I did
the very best I could. The rest is in God's hands.
For me it is time to think about the next book..........
