When all the butterflies die: look forward to new growth

 

While scrolling through Facebook recently, I stumbled upon this quote: “That feeling you get in your stomach when your heart’s broken. It’s like all the butterflies died.” I know a few things about broken hearts and dead butterflies. Hope deferred. Unmet expectations. Loss and emptiness. But during this new season, I am compelled, now more than ever, to make sense of my path. To reclaim that feeling of contentment I talk about in “Try it on for size…” To don happiness as a daily accessory. To welcome new growth. For far too long my attention has been fixated inward on my needs and wants and disappointments. And it’s time for me to look outward and focus on those around me.  To take a break from the distractions and agendas and whatever else thwarts, rather than advances, my purpose. Hopefully, in time, as I breathe and pray, I will discover what makes me tick and who I’m supposed to be.

How do you know you’re on the right path?

Jump right in: approaching everyday life

Yesterday I registered for NaNoWriMo. For readers unfamiliar with this acronym, National Novel Writing Month is an annual, internet-based creative writing project that takes place during the month of November, and where participants attempt to write a 50,000-word manuscript. Although I’m excited to share the group energy and online support, I’m even more eager to implement a concept that occurred to me as I tried to wrap up my book outline (yes, I’m a planner/plotter vs. pantser). I can either wait until it makes sense (how often does that happen?), or I can jump in and figure out the details later. And not just with regard to my novel, but also my crazy busy life. In my post, “The price of sacrifice…,” I mention re-examining my needs and wants and here’s what I’ve got: they will (likely) be forever imbalanced. This means that, at times, I’ll just take the plunge and figure it out as I go. Kind of like a pantser.

How do you approach everyday life?

Photo courtesy of tuelekza at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

Pantser, planner or a little of both?

 

If you’re a writer, the term ‘pantser’ is as familiar to you as the beloved setting where you daydream about all the writing you wish you were doing. Basically, it means to ‘fly by the seat of your pants.’ Writers like this generally begin with a basic plan, then let the story write itself. In life and in writing, I tend to follow the ‘planner’ route; i.e., I like to know what, when, where and how something will happen. Although this rarely transpires outside the confines of my laptop or notebook, I find comfort in staying between the lines. I might consider my living and writing style more middle-of-the-road, however, a ‘plantser’ who performs a little of both—more so now that simplicity is my New Year intention. A loose outline, whether for the day or the next blog or that story idea I’ve contemplated and picked apart for months, simply sets the stage for magic to unfold.

Are you a pantser, planner or a little of both?

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

Ready or not, life goes on

[Image credit: Idea go]

Last Friday, I woke up and headed to the kitchen as I always do to fix a snack, and review and update my Franklin (day planner).  To my surprise, Friday was missing.  I jokingly posted on Facebook that without this page, I didn’t know what to do.  Responses ranged from opting for a play day to repeating last Friday’s schedule.  Thankfully, I maintain a different planner for work, so eight hours of my day were covered.  As for the rest, I guessed for the most part — a little practice for “flying by the seat of my pants” when I travel this summer.  On Saturday I found the missing page in my workout bag (long story).  It turns out the only thing that didn’t get accomplished the day before was dusting the living room.  But I did allow myself the luxury of an “unscheduled” nap and an evening to take it easy.  And now that I know the planets remain in their orbit and life goes on, ready or not, I may “accidentally” misplace a page or two every now and then.  After all, the dusting can always wait.

How do you deal with a “missing” day — with work or fun or a little bit of both?