Writng Projects

Ooh, starting to feel a bit nippy out there, isn’t it? I heard rumor there might be a snowflake or ten this weekend. Not sure I’m quite ready for snow, but I do love it when it arrives. We’ll see. In the meantime, the fire’s glowing in the wood stove, the children and Denny are doing school, the sky is overcast and I’ve got the day to write to my heart’s content.

My writing space

So, what is Williams writing these days, anyway? Well, for starters, I’m aiming to get at least one blog post up a week. So much to write about, so little time—you know how it is. I’ve been learning to use Twitter and trying to remember to Tweet a couple times a day on there as well as engaging a bit. I may or may not be getting the hang of it. Ha.

But the projects… oh, the projects! It’s delicious to have projects. I’ve mentioned before that I’m working on something akin to a sequel to Free to Be, but done in a fictional style. Autobiographical fiction, they call it. Though I’ve long been daunted by writing fiction, a good friend and fellow author has given me a push and a whole heap of encouragement to try my hand at it (and, as always and of course, I have Denny’s full support and enthusiasm). It’s a different sort of bird altogether, I tell you what. I find it much more difficult than the writing I’ve done over the last two decades, but I do so love to learn and I’m learning a good deal. The tricky thing is not putting too much pressure on myself. Naturally, I’m my own worst enemy. Aren’t we all? 


Along the way my friend had the idea to write something together, something light, fun, and rather absurd, an ebook we can write quickly and sell cheaply. So, we spun off a ridiculous romantic parody and are having an absolute blast with it. I’ve set my other project aside for the time being, realizing that by collaborating with an experienced, talented, and, thankfully, very patient writer, I have the opportunity to learn in ways I couldn’t on my own. There are many tricks he’s learned over the years and he’s throwing them all at me. He’s figured out my learning style and sort of gotten into my head, able to guide me through any rough spots. He, his lovely lady, and my Denny are thoroughly enjoying watching me spread my wings and grow in confidence. I feel quite blessed (all praise to his Noodly Highness [wink]). Other people pay good money for half such mentorship. Man, I gots good peeps.

Carving out the time to write, that’s one of the difficult parts. Denny is taking over much of the children’s schooling as well as the cooking and such, attempting to free me to write (have I mentioned that before? I think I mentioned that). But writing has often been my…hmm... dessert. Something I got to do when all my work and other things were done. Like a quiet moment with a warm brownie and a glass of milk when the wee ones go down for a nap. Since Denny entered the picture and saw the potential in my writing, we’ve gradually made the shift to prioritizing it. Seeing the success of Free to Be was a good kick in the behind. But in the beginning we had to sort out some of my other projects to see what might be able to help support us. We still make and sell goat milk soap and I still do a bit of sewing and crafting (all available locally and from our website), but honestly, for a while there I was getting a little stressed trying to make it all successful. Success takes time and energy. With a large family and a small farm, I was spread thin. Partly I was still trying to do most of it myself, as I’ve always done, and not leaning much on Denny, somewhat to his frustration. I’ve learned a lot about partnership in the last year and a half, that’s for sure! Denny’s been so patient. He’s just… mmm. He’s an incredible man.

Well, one day this spring Denny was consoling me through a bit of stress. We talked about where my focus should be; soap, sewing, writing, or whatever. He held my hand, wiped at my tears, and tenderly asked me a question I won’t soon forget.

“Sweets, what do you want to do?"

Dang, I still tear up thinking about it. S’cuse me a moment.

Okay. Better.

See, Denny and I have an understanding: we have one life to live, we want to live it to the fullest. We will sacrifice the standard American luxuries—new cars, big houses, fancy toys, etc.—to live a truly rich life enjoying each other, working together, spending time with and enjoying the children, having equally meaningful friendships, getting our hands dirty tending a bit of land and making it beautiful. Earning money to cover the necessities must be done from home if at all possible if we want to see this happen. Earning money in a way we enjoy—even better. And with a minimalist lifestyle, we figure we can make it happen. We just need the focus.

So, what do I want to do? I want to write. Hands down, no hesitation, beyond a shadow of a doubt, if I can help keep a roof over our heads with something that brings me deep satisfaction, then absolutely yes it would be writing.

And it’s still so moving that Denny wants to see me happy. That he cares. That he cares enough to ask and cares enough to help make it happen. He trusts me and my writing. I want to say he has faith in me, but he’d scoff at that. He trusts.

Aaaagggghhh! It’s overwhelming. Loving this damned life.

Now, back to work. 

Casual Thoughts On The Sweetness of My Life

Disclaimer: If you cannot stomach hearing about how happy I am, and some random, rambling thoughts, better skip this one.

Man, I love my life. I really, really love my life. I used to say, about three years ago, that I was living the very life I would choose if given the choice. I knew then that that was only about 88% true. The country living, my location, my children, homeschooling, all the activities which occupied our days, even our economic situation was not entirely antithetical to the lifestyle I enjoyed. Simple, frugal living is what I would choose if I had to choose between it and luxury, but it’s far easier to accomplish when you haven’t the choice. For many of us, it’s a conscious sacrifice; we’d rather have the time to enjoy simple pleasures at home than throw greenbacks at a fancy shopping mall in what little time we left after chasing the same greenbacks around a workplace.

If you’ve followed me for any length of time you know, of course, that the other 12% of my life, the unsatisfactory bit, was my marriage. No matter how I tried, that relationship wouldn't jell. 

Little took this pic of me & Den a few nights ago.

In hindsight, with its reputation for perfect vision and all that, I look back today and kinda chuckle at my percentage split. I guessed, but nonetheless underestimated, the significance of the impact that a mutually loving, respectful, joyful partnership could have on every aspect of one’s life. I continue to be overwhelmed every day by what Denny and I share. It enriches everything.

I had so many insecurities when Denny and I hooked up. The merest bump in our peace and harmony would find fear winding its icy hands around my throat. I wasn’t good enough for my first husband, how could I possibly be good enough for an amazing man like Denny? But Denny understood my fears and was patient with me. He reassured me. He knew me then and knows me know and has a knack for saying just the right thing. In the beginning I shared with him what I suspect is not an uncommon fear for people entering a new relationship after a failed one.

“I couldn’t make it work with my ex,” I said through tears. “It seems like too much to hope that you and I build something lasting."

“Oh, but I see it so differently,” he said, taking my hand. “I don’t see failure, I see your success. If you can make it work for fourteen years with the likes of your ex, and come through with flying colors, which you did, there’s every reason to believe you and I together can do a whole lot better."

You can’t argue with this man’s logic.

And so here we are, thriving. My insecurities fade daily, overwhelmed by love, patience, kindness, recognition, appreciation, respect, admiration, and the occasional round of tickling. Things aren’t just good, they are great. And they just keep getting better. It’s a remarkable thing when you get the right two people together, how they both can grow into even better people.

Once upon a time, I believed that any relationship could succeed if you just work at it hard enough. I must have learned this watching my parents work out their issues, preserving, overcoming. I guess that’s why I didn’t think much about it when I married the first time. I was pregnant, this was the father of my child, and so naturally he would be my husband and we would make it work.

Whoops.

Two people, agreeing on those terms, could possibly create something lasting and, at least, tolerable, if not decent. If you can’t even agree on that, well...

But oh, do not overlook compatibility! Personality, life experiences (including upbringing), interests. Probably in that order. The more different, the more tricky. Two incompatible people could work at a relationship and still barely achieve what two ernest, compatible people might consider a bad spell in their relationship.

What I find interesting is that at nineteen, when I first married, I was less than half the person I am now. At thirty-four I obviously have more personality, more life experience, and more interests. And Denny has his share under his belt. We might have clicked 15 years ago, but nothing like we do at this time in our lives. We are compatible on so many levels it’s pretty much ridiculous.

I wonder then, do the relationships of the young automatically suffer a deficit because the youth aren’t as developed? Maybe they don’t know who they are yet and have a higher chance of getting together because this or that 'feels good,’ but then tend to grow apart? Maybe they just don’t know what they want yet? How many young loves truly blossom? Our genetic instinct doesn’t seem to be toward long-lasting, fulfilling relationships so much as rushing us to reproduce.

But if it’s true that most young loves ultimately fail, maybe mid-life relationships are more satisfying. But then, there are plenty of middle-aged people bouncing from relationship to relationship, lost and unsatisfied. Not everyone has the knack for knowing what they want and the ability and/or luck to find it.

Whatever. Just babbling. I just consider myself very fortunate to have found my way into a fulfilling relationship. And sometimes I give myself a little pat on the back because it wasn’t all by chance. I attracted Denny and Denny attracted me because of who we are.

All that to say what? The rich things in my life have become richer because I have a partner with whom to share them. Parenting is more of a pleasure than ever. My new worldview, that of a humanist rather than an God-fearing authoritarian, has changed the way I relate to my children. Denny continues to watch me with fascination. He hugs me and affirms me with deep sincerity. He also holds me when I cry, tormented by fear of screwing up my children. And he loves me all the more because I care so much. We talk over all the issues regarding the children, the attitudes and the education and the future. When the children are being particularly adorable we catch each other’s eyes and share the moment. If we’ve been doing our own things during the day, we catch up with each other and he never fails to gush about something sweet he overheard or saw. He is full of ideas and enthusiasm and energy. The children accept and love him, but I hope that someday they will truly appreciate how fortunate we are to have him with us.

Denny has settled quite well into Make-It-Do Farm. I’m always eager to hear his ideas regarding the property and he, mine. How about some fruit trees on the hill? And some more blueberries next year, maybe two dozen in all? And if we mulch these flowerbeds heavily with leaves this fall we could plant purple coneflowers and rudbeckias in the spring, maybe some chamomile. Yeah, we’ll have to build a little fence of twigs to keep the chickens and dogs out of it. If we cleaned that over there up it would look nicer, and we could build a doghouse there before it gets very cold. In 5 years time what would you like to see? Me too. We should write it down and make a list to accomplish each year.
A garden geek after my own heart.

And don’t get me started on finances. You know, I don’t think we earn much more than my family did before, but it’s managed carefully and gets us so much farther. It was at least a year before I stopped getting soggy-eyed with gladness when he would invite me to go over the finances with him and he’d wrap it up, saying, “So, we’re good for this month and next.” Money isn’t His and Hers, nor does it fall to one of us while the other remains “blissfully” ignorant. Together. Partners.

Some practical things have changed that I never saw coming. I sold the goats. I don’t sew as much. Denny is doing most of the schooling. Most of that is to free me up to write and do writing-related things. Identifying myself as a writer, an author… Yeah. Wow. It wouldn’t have happened in my old life. I love it. It’s different, something of an adjustment, but I love it. And Denny loves watching it happen. 

I feel like a new woman. But when I tell Denny that he points out the parts of me that were always there, the parts that are just getting some air now. Strength, confidence, talent. He’s right, of course. That man and his logic.

Sigh. I sure do love my life. Thanks for letting me carry on about it for a bit.  =)

Appreciation Rant

The full quote is, "The woman who serves unnoticed and un-thanked is a woman who loves God more than she desires the praise of others. She is confident that all her unnoticed deeds on earth are noticed in Heaven. She is satisfied knowing she has pleased her Lord."

A believing friend sent me this meme, expressing her frustration with this aspect of religion. It rather burns me, too.

Just yesterday I was doing something benign for Denny and he thanked me, quite sincerely. Then he paused thoughtfully and, with much emotion, expressed how sad it made him to think of all the years I and the "amazing" things I do went unappreciated. You know that good, achy, almost-want-to-cry, overwhelmed feeling that tingles in your chest sometimes? That. I do so love this man! It makes me sad sometimes to think of how long I went uncared for. It wouldn’t have taken much…  But, eh, at least it made me hyper-sensitive to Denny’s appreciation and it’s been wonderful for our relationship.

So, yeah, I call BS on this meme! A woman who serves unnoticed and unthanked is a an under-appreciated and 
probably not a very happy woman.

Now, that isn't to say that you should do things just to receive praise. Personally, I do what I do because I love myself and the people in my life. I do what makes me happy, what satisfies me, and I try to do things that are good and pleasant for those I love. I do what needs to be done because I don't feel good letting things go if I can do something about it, even unpleasant stuff like scrubbing behind the toilet or cleaning up vomit, or emotionally draining things like those occasional conversations with your teen you’d rather not have first thing in the morning.

Serving happily can be a tricky balance, especially if what you do does go unnoticed or unappreciated. I lied to myself for many years, thinking that I was at least pleasing God with my actions. It’s not easy to extend yourself with, “You’ll be rewarded somehow after you die,” being the only thing to hold onto. With God out of the picture I sought and found richer relationships with beings who can and do actually give back. It's been very rewarding.

That said, I never had the issues some do regarding motherhood. It’s nice when my children express appreciation, but I have never sought it from them. I don't need it from them. I ask for respect, and try to deserve it, that’s all. I give myself to them because I truly enjoy it and because they are my responsibility. But motherhood isn’t for everyone and not everyone finds the same satisfaction in the work. After your children are born is a very unfortunate time to discover this, as there are very few legal or moral ways to back out of it. My advice to these mothers is to suck it up, do your best, and try to add something more satisfying to your life. You’ll be happier and should bring that peace into your relationship with your children.

But if your other relationships aren’t rewarding, if you feel unappreciated (and you’re pretty sure you’re deserving of appreciation), the first step is communication. Second step is the same as above— can you add other people or things that satisfy? Can you subtract the negative? Or maybe you just need an attitude adjustment? Being arrogant or needy never got anyone anywhere.

Whatever the case, for the love of pasta, do not settle for pie in the sky!

Er… that’s all, I guess. Just a random rant triggered by Facebook.  Carry on.

A Dusty Letter

 

This afternoon while Denny and I were rearranging our bedroom a bit, I found a dusty letter on a shelf. I recognized my own handwriting. Well, it’s always interesting to come across notes of a writer tucked away here and there, even if the writer is myself. I’m a curious sort. I dusted it off and read it aloud to Denny. It was addressed to my heavenly father, Yahweh. (And like a good girl I’d written the date on it.)

  

3/16/11

Father, 

Years ago you asked me to lay aside my hurt and pain and forgive my husband. You asked me to lay aside my rights (or what I thought were my rights) and to let you love Bobby through me. I did my best and saw my marriage restored. 

Little did I know you would ask this of me every day thenceforth!

I find myself today with a  hard, guarded heart and a mediocre marriage. I’m not miserable (most of the time), but I’m also far from happy. I know I’m not being the wife I should be (Proverbs 31:12 is the most convicting verse in scripture!) and that I won’t know happiness until I’m fulfilling my proper role. 

It’s so easy to forget that I was created for Bobby… and not the other way around. I focus so much on how neglected I am… how awful it is to have an unappreciative mate who may love, but seems incapable of showing it. Then comes the nauseating realization that he wakes up each day to a controlling, prickly sort of woman who doesn’t show him respect.

It’s tempting to attempt a change in my attitude with a sigh, “Guess I have to go first again,” in hopes of drawing from him the love and affection I need.

A change in my attitude IS needed, but not for that reason—I will always fall short if that is my goal. No, I need to change because I am not walking in my father’s will. 

Father, I feel like there is a huge wall around me, built to keep me safe, but it’s dark and lonely inside. 

There are things Bobby has said and done that hurt me, but I feel that bringing anything up to him will only hurt him, make him feel inadequate, and that a new method is required. I don’t feel up to it, Yahweh. I think I should just let it all go… forgive him silently and respect him unconditionally. 

I have carried a rather low opinion of him for some time, keeping him at arm’s length because he’s not who I think he should be and it’s not right. It’s not even practical. Who can grow into a man under such conditions? And besides, who could live up to my unreasonable standards anyway? 

Help me, Father.

Denny was floored. I sought the comfort of his embrace and had myself a good cry. Just prior to this we had been discussing the book I'm working on, which covers my teen years, my rocky marriage, my religiosity. Timely.

Man... It’s so good to be free.

Bobby and I had been together for just over twelve years when I wrote that. Justin would have been only about six weeks old.

I see so much here that overwhelms me. Naturally there are the memories. There’s not a part of this that I don’t remember and feel keenly, especially when contrasted with my present freedom, joy and wonderfully fulfilling partnership. There’s part of me that continues to occasionally grieve for that young lady, as well as to rejoice. It’s a mix of things. And tiny part of me is angry. Flat-out angry. Mostly with religion, with the Biblical doctrine that says women are created for men and must respect them whether or not they deserve it. Angry with the doctrine that can foster and feed such self-loathing and guilt as is displayed here, and keep someone spending their last ounces of energy trying to bail out a sinking, hole-riddled life boat.

In the midst of the bad, I see good things here. Though the trait of selflessness was out of balance in my life, I still am rather glad I developed that way of thinking for it’s helped me to be a better mother than I would have been. And wife; it wasn’t appreciated then, but it is now. (I still have to be careful now to take care of myself, to not give so much of myself that I wither. Balance in all things.) My tenacity is also appreciated by Denny, my determination and thoughtfulness, my desperation to sort things out and have healthy relationships. I have carried these things into my new marriage and friendships; they are valued highly and reciprocated.

Yes, these are good traits, but abused by some, especially the religious. It’s sobering. 

I feel like I’ve come so far, so fast. If you’ve read Free to Be you’ve gained some idea of how quickly my paradigms shifted and how my happiness grew just in the first year. I’m coming up on the 2nd anniversary of laying the Bible down and I don’t regret a single step of the way. Much of it just sort of happened, but I made some important decisions in there, too. I am so very, very happy.

I’ve said it before and will say it again: if there is a god, he’s treated me far better since I rejected him than he ever did when I served him.