About Compulsive Writer

I am a compulsive writer. I get an idea in my head and I have to get it on paper at that moment. I cannot wait a second. I have to write it down. I write without reservations. I write from my humanity and imperfection. I write what comes into my head without the advantage or disadvantage of censorship. So take it for what it is worth. If I write something you find worthy of comment, let me know. If you agree or not, tell me anyway. I want to know the reaction my writing gives you, the reader. I can keep you guessing about what kind of crazy stunt I am going to pull next! I count blessings, use my imagination, keep confidences, seek wisdom, value truth, accept differences, forgive, love truly, keep an open mind, pray without ceasing, write obsessively and read every book I can get my hands on. This is who I am; an imperfect human called by God to write…I am a writer.

We left a Hole

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We worked on the wall till the break was almost closed up. We could see over the wall where the break opened up. Resilient stood back and was pleased with the work we did. Soon a friend approached. Her shirt said loneliness. This friend was crying.

“What is wrong?” I asked her.

“This wall makes me sad.” she said.

Resilient was mad. “I am not talking the wall down. We must be protected.”

Loneliness asks, ” Can we at least leave a hole to look through in case they come?”

I was concerned then that Resilient would not allow it. She sighed and said ok.

So there in the wall above the new bricks she left a hole. Not one big enough for anyone to get through. Just big enough for us to see if anyone was coming. This made loneliness a little happier.

We took turns looking to see if we could see any more friends.

“This may take a while.” I said. “Let’s not give up”

“ok, Courage” the others replied.

She Builds the Wall

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Here is a bit of fiction…or is it?

She Builds the Wall

I found her standing in front of a wall. The wall was made of bricks the same color red as the bricks that build the american dream home but about half the size and perfect cube in shape. She was mixing a bucket of concrete and slathering it on the bricks. Then she placed them ever so deliberately on the wall where it looks like a strong force crashed in the bricks flinging them all over the ground. I walked up behind her and she does not turn around. She continues to work one brick at the time.

I look to my left and see the wall goes on past my line of sight. I look to my right and see the same. On it goes. I look up and it disappears in to the fog. “What are you doing?” I ask her. She sighs, “What does it look like? I am repairing the break.” Her voice is soft and not unlike my own.

It is a slow process since she is very particular in how she chooses the bricks. She lovingly picks them up and dusts off each side. She then sizes it up for the next location on the wall carefully placing it on the vacant spot. Once she is satisfied it is the correct block, she then coats it and places it on the wall. She continues to pick up bricks, coat them with mud and place them on the wall.

“What broke your wall?” I asked

Again she sighed, “It was my fault. I let my guard down and when I wasn’t paying attention someone got in, wreaked havoc and I forced them back on the other side. Now I am fixing it so they can’t come back on my side.”

She never broke her stride as she explained the break and what happened. She continued to work. Carefully picking up bricks, tenderly stroking them and placing them on the wall.

“When it is fixed, what will you do then?” I asked

Again she sighed, “I will wait for the one who is worthy of coming to my side. I think that they are never coming though. I will just watch and maintain the wall.”

With that she turned and looked at me. She smiled with my smile. Printed on her shirt was the word “Resilient”

She said, “Your shirt says ‘courage’, will you stay with me?”

I sighed, picked up a brick and dusted it off. I measured the place where it would go, slopped on the concrete and placed the brick on the wall.

Newest Novel in Progress…

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Would you read this book?

Charlotte Barlow suspected something was a little off when her quiet reserved cousin kissed her when she was just sixteen years old. The kiss unnerved her. Nevertheless, she lived a relatively normal life among the humans. Charlotte a practicing witch from the ancient order of Time Walkers, hid her talents and powers from everyone she knew. When Charlotte is injured in a drunk driving accident, she realizes that her life had been a lie from the very beginning. It wasn’t until she bumped into the devilishly wild fallen being, who called himself by his human name, Scott Petrois, that her life and family history finally began to make sense. 

Scott proved to be a force that Charlotte was not capable of resisting. Charlotte soon learned that Scott had taken an oath and that oath could destroy her. Despite Scott’s creepy ways and murderous tendencies, Charlotte finds herself falling for the dishonored creature. Only fate will decided whether she kills or protects him.

One night, a powerful warlock appears before Charlotte and warns her of a darkness within Scott. The enchanter gives Charlotte the pure silver sword – the only weapon that can defeat against a wild spiritual creature. Will Charlotte find it in herself to kill the only soul who has ever made her feel truly complete? 

You have just read a synopsis of my current work in progress. What do you think?

Don’t get to attached to the cover. It is just a mock up.

coverImage

 

The Nothing Box

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I have recently been introduced to the concept of the Nothing Box. This concept is not a new one. Apparently it has been out there for years. This wise man I know explained to me that all men have compartments in their brains that they separate thoughts and memories. When they want to think about something the pull out a box from the memory shelf and open it. They think about that thing they have in front of them. All the memories and thoughts go into a box.One of the boxes is called the Nothing Box. Men are experts on thinking about nothing. Girlfriends and wives can attest that they ask men what they are thinking about often get the nothing reply. The women often don’t believe the men when they say they are thinking nothing because women can’t think of nothing. Women have brains that do not stop, so it is hard for them to grasp the concept of thinking nothing. I disagree that it is impossible for women to think about nothing. While I do agree that it is harder for women to shut down their brains, it is not impossible.

I have tried to access my nothing box. Let me tell you, it takes practice to shut down and focus on nothing. Quieting what my friend calls the monkey chatter in your head is not an easy task. It takes concentration, but it can be done. Men find this easy. I find it frustrating.

I kept practicing and one day my brain cooperated, I realized that I was indeed not thinking about a thing. It was a very freeing experience. Emptying my mind relaxed my body and brought peace to my soul. I realized that it actually allows for God to speak to me in the nothingness. It is almost like silent prayer that allows my soul just to be in he presence of nothing but God. I imagine this is like the Zen experience in some meditation practices.

The next time you are feeling stressed and your brain is chattering in multiple voices, try finding your nothing box. Pull it out and climb inside. If it will not work the first few times, do not give up, keep trying. I bet you will discover like me that this nothing box thing is great.

 

Storms

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Here where I live storms are a fact of life. If we have a week or so without rain we swear it’s a drought. We are ending the summer and headed into Fall. I love warm weather. I hate wearing shoes. Someone should make flip flops acceptable business footwear. I am a die hard ocean breeze, sunshine and summer rain kind of girl.  I am not looking forward to Fall and cool temperatures, not really.  Don’t get me started on pumpkin everything everywhere….

Anyway, where was I ? Oh storms, we are waiting for one now. The air is thick and humid. The wind is picking up a bit and the clouds are rolling in. It is the prelude to the rain. I love this feeling of anticipation and then the release of summer rain that smells of clean air. It brings peace to my soul.

In life we get so wrapped up in the drama and why of things that we need to just let the summer rain wash the worry out of our minds. Ignore the chatter and let what you need to happen happen. All else, all the unneeded words and feelings, let them wash away like the peaceful summer rain.

Updated web address

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As of today you will see a new web address for my blog. When you click the old link it should bounce, but please update your saved link or bookmark. The new address is breathepraywrite.com

If you have any questions or issues accessing the blog please contact me and let me know.

 

…but I like my cheese where it is

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How many of you read that little book Who Moved My Cheese? I read it years ago and then again recently. (If you don’t have time to read it watch this short video.) The premise is easy, change is going to happen and you have to control how you react to it. If you stand firm and refuse to accept it you will get left in the wake of change. If you flow with it and adapt you will be better after the change levels off and status quo sets in again.

Most people do not want their cheesy goodness to move and do not want change. Change is scary and challenging. In the end I believe most people accept change and move along to the better cheese. Then there is me….

I have been a solid do not move, touch or even look at my cheese kind of person. I like my daily routines thank you very much. As long as I am in charge of the change and I am the creator of the change it is fine, but let someone else change something that affects me look out. I think it is the helpless feeling of not having control. What’s crazy is I haven’t had control in years until just recently. I have let life push me along. I did grab hold of control, went to school and changed my stressful job. Slowly I have taken control back. It is my cheese and I will do the moving..not you…me.

There’s old wisdom that advises that we can only lean against that which resists. This suggests that there might just be something good, or at least useful, about resisting change. Discovering what this resistance is and learning to work with it is key to understanding reluctance to change. That is all fine and dandy as long as I am in charge of the cheese…I mean change.

What throws me for a loop is when I am not in control of the change. That sends me in to flight mode. You know, fight or flight? I am a classic flight risk when I loose control. Either I fly or I bury my head in the sand and ignore the change. If I don’t see it, don’t acknowledge it, then it is not real…..there you go…denial.

Learning that change, even wanted change is stressful will make dealing with the cheese realignment easier. Taking the cheese knife in hand and carving the life you want is hard too. I have no answers here. You have to decide how you will deal with the fact of life that someone will move your cheese. It is just a matter of time.