By C. J. Stegall-Evans

I am always grateful for the Labor Day weekend because it seems like the other side of August. This past August represents mild chaos; I did little harm but I must admit I owe at least one apology. I am able to let go of the harm that was done to me, and chalk it up to August madness. To ensure I  avoided August madness and always reacted with kindness in the classroom I posted one of my favorite prayers:

Fathers Mychal’s Prayer

 Lord, take me where
you want me to go;
Let me meet who
you want me to meet;
Tell me what
you want me to say, and
Keep me out of your way.
 

—Fr. Mychal Judge, O.F.M.
Chaplain, New York Fire Department
Copyright ©2001 Holy Name Province
Permission to reprint requested

This prayer is certainly a life saver for me in that it reminds me to set my ego aside and pay attention to what is really important. I pray that we all have a blessed and peace fall season.

© 2010 C. J. Stegall-Evans (All Rights Reserved)

Designed by Tim Sainburg from Brambling Design

Inspiration

Poetry

Writing

Writer’s Resource

Technorati tags: lovely words, blog carnival.

© 2010 C. J. Stegall-Evans (All Rights Reserved)

Designed by Tim Sainburg from Brambling Design

By C. J. Stegall-Evans

“Just an old sweet song keeps Georgia on my mind.” Although Florida is my adopted home, Georgia is my comfort food. It’s mid August and I would imagine the leaves will soon consider turning in Georgia. Don’t’ get me wrong I love the tropical Florida sunshine, but there is something so artistically interesting about the fall season.

The trees begin a symphony of unending colors. The Georgia leaves start out young and green only to turn a bright yellow, burnt orange, then toasty brown and slowly fall from the trees as they play their final swan song. Looking out in the back yard was always a feast for the eyes.  

When I was a child my father would drive my brothers and I from Georgia to Tennessee just to take in all the colors of the autumn leaves. Sometime we would listen to music, sometimes talk, and other times we were so completely in awe of nature’s beauty no words or sounds were needed.  

We would drive along thinking our private thoughts unaware that we were making memories. I count my leaf memories as a wonderful part of my childhood.  I guess after a leaf has lived its leaf-ful purpose it deserves to have people take notice as it takes its final bow. I imagine one can learn a lot about life just studying the life cycle of a leaf.    

© 2010 C. J. Stegall-Evans (All Rights Reserved)

Designed by Tim Sainburg from Brambling Design

Poetry

Inspiration

Writing

Writing Resource

Books

Technorati tags: lovely words, blog carnival.

© 2010 C. J. Stegall-Evans (All Rights Reserved)

Designed by Tim Sainburg from Brambling Design

By C. J. Stegall-Evans

On Friday, I was driving my car happy as a clam (that is if clams are really happy), on my way to the University of North Florida Writers Conference. I have been waiting for this conference for months; looking forward to all the speakers and the wine and cheese reception.

Although it is a three day conference I could only get a ticket for day one because day two and three are sold out; that’s how I know this will be a totally amazing conference. I am so excited just ridding along and my car makes a noise like gravel hitting the undercarriage.

Nothing going to stop me from having a great day so I keep going. Pretty soon the noise is just too loud to ignore. I exit the expressway and make my way to a plaza parking lot. I pop the hood and notice the drive belt seems to have been almost completely eaten away by rabid squirrels. 

This is okay I am at peace with the world.  I wait two hours for a tow truck, knowing I can at least make a half day of the writer’s conference. I make it to the car dealership and by noon I give up hope and call the conference to cancel; the receptionist giggles and I hear the faint sound of music. Soon after, the customer service person tells me the cost to fix my car. I just burst into tears because this feels like an August conspiracy.

To make a long story short, I am sitting in the waiting room with an urgent need to scream or writing. Since writing is more appropriate I write. I begin to think about the conference and how much fun they are having within me, which makes me want to cry.

I know this year at the wine and cheese reception this year they break out the loud music and strobe lights and everyone just lets their hair down.  Usually these functions are a series of lectures, seeing old friends, getting to know new people, a great networking tool; but this year since I am not there I’m sure it’s more like Bookworms Gone Wild.

The thing that really gets me is at the next conference everyone will pretend it never happened. I assure you this is not my writer’s imagination taking hold. I look around the car dealership and I am so disappointed, I just want to scream. The writer in me knows writing will make feel better and it does but I will be looking for tell-tell signs of the wild party at the next conference.  

© 2010 C. J. Stegall-Evans   All Rights Reserved

Designed by Tim Sainburg from Brambling Design

By C. J. Stegall-Evans

I meditate on a daily basis in order to feel grounded. I either sit low to the ground, on the floor, or with my feet touching the ground. When I feel grounded I am as much a part of nature as the birds in the trees.

Writing makes me feel grounded too. When I am writing I am able to lose me, and just be. The ability to be at one with nature is a gift, one that I hope all writers possess. It’s a very freeing aspect of being a creative person.

It allows us to put everyday life on hold, for the time we are writing we can get in the zone, and become a pure creative instructive instrument. Sometimes writing inspiration calls to us at times when it’s not always convenient but it is always worthwhile. 

Answering this writing call helps writers to feel more stable in our everyday lives. Writing can sometimes be all consuming but finding balance and writing about our joys and pains allows us to keep our lives in proper perspective.  

Writers have to work hard on being grounded which is sometimes difficult when your profession requires that you keep your head in the clouds. Daily writing and meditation may not be the cure all but it may make finding your place in a world in which you don’t fit in a bit easier.

© 2010 C. J. Stegall-Evans (All Rights Reserved)

Designed by Tim Sainburg from Brambling Design

Poetry

Inspiration

Tranquility

Storm presents Connect with Nature posted at Be Zen, My Friend.

That concludes this edition. Submit your blog article to the next edition of Lovely Words using our carnival submission form. Past posts and future hosts can be found on our blog carnival index page.
Share |

Technorati tags: lovely words, blog carnival.

© 2010 C. J. Stegall-Evans (All Rights Reserved)

Designed by Tim Sainburg from Brambling Design

By C. J. Stegall-Evans

It’s almost August and I’m feeling that old familiar ache. The tears well up, sometimes they come and sometimes they don’t. August seems to always break my heart. This is the month I was married and also the month I became widowed.

One life’s cruel jokes, if anything is going to go wrong in my life you better believe it’s going to happen in August.  In fact in the not too distant past I would go to bed pull the covers up over my head and wait until September. All was well until August of 2008 which was so horrid in terms of my personal, professional, and fiscal life I knew something would have to change so that I could redefine it. In November I began setting goals to ensure a better 2009.  

In August of 2009 I started this blog to encourage writers to write. In August I either start new projects or send out finished projects. I am always working on an invention in August. I pray and meditate a bit more. I try to be a bit kinder to myself and others. Rather than dwelling on the bad thing that have happened in this month I embrace the lessons learned.

 August reminds me to be grateful for my life and not take anything for granted. Rather than dreading August I now look forward to starting new projects reflecting and on what’s really important. I can’t say that I am happy every day in August but I am grateful, everyday. My renewed appreciation for the month of August means I am open to my feelings on any given day and I own it. I own it, I feel it, and I get through it.  

I hope at some point in my life August will be like any other month, but maybe it has been much far too tragic for that. Anyway, I have made my peace with the month of August and incorporated into my life as a natural part of my existence. In advent of August I extend to the world as much prayer, love, and compassion as I can muster.        

© 2010 C. J. Stegall-Evans (All Rights Reserved)  

Designed by Tim Sainburg from Brambling Design

By C. J. Stegall-Evans

It seems like since forever my life has been a text book in overcoming obstacles. Just when I think I have it all together life throws me a curve. A couple years ago I was truly enjoying my life oblivious to the fact that it was full of stress and out of control.

I reasoned, I am enjoying my life therefore I must be doing everything right; everyone deals stress it’s just part of life. I kept going paying no attention to the stress knowing I could endure whatever life throws at me. Endurance is that what life is about?

 I did not ask myself any questioners, I gave the marching orders and soldiered on. I was on track like most people, not paying attention to my life and bearing the weight of whatever came my way. I had my head in the sand and had no idea my life was not all it should be. I was going on with my life as if I were in control of the whole matter.

When I crashed and burned no one was more surprised than me. I began to feel like a failure on so many levels until I realized something spectacular. The stress is gone; I’m okay; heck, I may even be better. After all the smoke had cleared it was springtime again.

I now had the time to stop and mindfully think about how to rebuild my life. There is something that is so completely freeing about starting over again. The wonderful thing about failure is it brings the gift of opportunity. The sin is not in failure; the sin is in not even trying.

So if any of you are feeling like a failure right now, know that this is opportunity in disguise. Opportunity rarely comes dressed up on a silver platter, but rather is a simple piece of coal made brilliant by the buffing of adversity.

© 2010 C. J. Stegall-Evans (All Rights Reserved)  

Designed by Tim Sainburg from Brambling Design

When I was in seventh grade Mr. White made us memorize and recite poetry in front of the class. I already loved poetry but this dimension invited a new perspective on my view of the art. Two of the poems I learned were Be the Best of Whatever You Are by Douglas Maloch and If  by Rudyard Kipling; for whatever reason I cannot seem to get these poems out of my head this summer. Just like certain music is the soundtrack of our life and it evokes memories that takes us back to a simpler time the same can be said of poems. Poems take on different meanings when read at different points in our lives. I don’t what happened to Mr. White but the seeds he planted are still bearing fruit. Since these poems have always been special to me (Thank you Mr. White) I thought I would share them with you. Please enjoy!

Be the Best of Whatever You Are

By Douglas Maloch

If you can’t be a pine on the top of a hill
Be a scrub in the valley, but be the best little scrub on the side of the hill
Be a bush if you can’t be a tree,
If you can’t be a bush be a bit of the grass
And some highway happier make.
If you can’t be a muskie, then just be a bass,
But the liveliest bass in the lake.
We can’t all be captains, we’ve got to be crew,
There’s something for all of us here.
There’s big work to do and there’s lesser work, too,
And the thing we must do is the near
If you can’t be a highway, then just be a trail.
If you can’t be the sun, be a star.
It isn’t by size that you win or you fail.
Be the best of whatever you are.

If

By Rudyard Kipling 

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream–and not make dreams your master,
If you can think–and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings–nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And–which is more–you’ll be a Man, my son!

© 2010 C. J. Stegall-Evans (All Rights Reserved)

Designed by Tim Sainburg from Brambling Design