Tell the Truth, Don't Tell the Truth

They say that telling the truth matters, telling the truth changes things, and people; what they don't tell you is that telling the truth doesn't always do the good you want it to, sometimes not right away and sometimes not ever (that you will see). Those out-of-sight-out-of-mind moments can be very discouraging. It makes telling the truth hard and seemingly without purpose. But if those of us called to tell the truth refuse, then those called to face the truth never will...


Here's my dilemma...


I know things, things that I am glad to know, things that no one else knows, (or so I think). These things have been entrusted to me by someone who trusts me little and trusts no one else. I promised not to speak of these things. This someone wishes to has a voice but has been convinced it's not possible. I'm a writer, I give a voice to those without one...


But these secrets, they can't stay secrets. They need to be set free, the pain and the anger and the hurt, all the words that embody those emotions need to enter the air and allow room for healing. They need to come out because they are the truth...


Usually when one soul needs to speak the truth it's because another soul needs to hear it. It becomes complicated when one soul belongs to a child and the other soul, a parent. 


I am now responsible for what I know, and must somehow go to this parent without an attitude of condemnation and speak the truth in love. This parent intimidates me, as does the fact that the last time I told someone the truth about what they were doing I nearly lost them as a friend. I have plenty of doubts stacked against me, but one solid truth: God weeps at the brokenness of these souls and wants something better for both of them. If I want that too then all the doubt in the world won't stand in my way. If not, then "there blood will be on my hands". I have been called to be a watchmen (like Ezekiel) and if I see the impending danger and do nothing then I am just as guilty of their slaughter as the danger itself. 


Self preservation or soul saving...


Tell the truth, don't tell the truth...

A Writer's Enemy

There might be some debate on the enemy of a writer, and I do agree that there could be more than one, a passive publicist or a stingy, lack-luster editor, but not all writers suffer those. I think the only enemy that shows no prejudice and knows not of grammar, sentence structure, or marketing techniques is the infamous 'writer's block'. It comes without warning and unwelcomed, it takes up residence for however long it likes, occasionally cutting its visit short as we flood our brains with the known remedies to curing lack of inspiration, but typically does whatever it pleases. For the truly tired and momentarily complacent writer we let writer's block control how often we find ourselves at our desk in front of our computer or with a pen in hand. 


I've been suffering this ridiculous, lone symptom disease for the last few weeks. At first I had been writing so much that I welcomed the break, but now I'm ready to be rid of it and feel as though I can't be. It's strange how easily comfortable that one can get with doing nothing, I've stated time and again that writing is akin to breathing, and more necessary to my life than eating, but if you look at the last few weeks of my life my actions don't readily prove that. 


A friend once came to me and asked what I do differently, she asked how it is that I seem to have an endless amount of words flowing through my fingertips and where the energy came from. She explained that she had been trying to write for days and was coming up short on inspiration and a voice for something or someone. My response to her was simple, you can't will yourself to write. To create something is to be so wrapped up in the moment, an image, a smell, a thought that you need to explore it unto the very end, but you can't will those things into existence. You can't will passion, and you can't force cohesiveness; giving rules to art negates the purpose of art itself. The further that you can color outside the lines the more you will color within them. I told her to get away from her desk, to go out with friends, walk through a busy urban street of downtown with nothing but a pen, and then when something hit her, because I was sure it would, find something to write it down on-the back of her hand, a napkin, a coffee cup from Starbucks. Then let the thought sink in, marinate over the words that she wrote and when the thought is ready to be carried out to completion it would let her know. Creativity doesn't fail if you're paying attention. 


All writers come to this juncture, and typically the first time is the hardest time, we haven't quite figured out that our voice is coming from a past that is dying to speak, or the stories of a close friend who bore their soul to us because they didn't know where else to turn. Our words come from a well of life experience, a well that is capable of running dry if you do not continue living. My advice to my friend was to make sure she gets out and sees the sun, sees children laughing, young love, seasoned love, strong friendships and uncertain but daring young minds. I told her to pay attention to what makes her pause in her step, for even just a moment, why her gaze lingers and to what her eyes are drawn, because it's from those things that inspiration will never cease. This conversation was a few years ago, and now on the increasingly rare occasion that she tells me she's in need of a spark I laugh and tell her to get a life. 


Now back to my dilemma, I feel as though I just shared all of that with you to remind myself what is needed in times when it feels like I am incapable of writing any words, though clearly from this that is not the case. I suppose every now and then a good reminder is needed and seeing yourself in another's situation puts a new perspective on things. I think that I have just cured my writer's block, and have a sneaky suspicion that tonight will be a productive night.

Food for Thought

 you can't be angry with God AND not believe in Him; either He exists and you get to be pissed at Him or He doesn't and you're still angry...regardless of what you choose you should probably figure out what you're really mad at because chances are good it isn't Him.

I'm Proud to be An American

If tomorrow all the things were gone I’d worked for all my life,
And I had to start again with just my children and my wife.
I’d thank my lucky stars to be living here today,
‘Cause the flag still stands for freedom and they can’t take that away.

And I’m proud to be an American where as least I know I’m free.
And I won’t forget the men who died, who gave that right to me.
And I’d gladly stand up next to you and defend her still today.
‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land God bless the U.S.A.

From the lakes of Minnesota, to the hills of Tennessee,
across the plains of Texas, from sea to shining sea,

From Detroit down to Houston and New York to LA,
Well, there’s pride in every American heart,
and it’s time to stand and say:

I’m proud to be an American where at least I know I’m free.
And I won’t forget the men who died, who gave that right to me.
And I’d gladly stand up next to you and defend her still today.
‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land God bless the U.S.A

This is my favorite patriotic song, I am not really sure why, but it has been since I was a kid. For me the 4th had always been more about my aunt than anything else because it just so happens to be her birthday. It was also about watching fireworks explode with color in the sky. I've never thought much about the sacrifices that people have made throughout history, at least not until now. Even now I don't have much to say, not much beyond 'thank you'. THANK YOU for listening to the feeling inside of you that told you to leave the comfort of your homes and the arms of your loved ones, THANK YOU for taking the bullet or the bomb that could've easily struck anyone, but struck you. THANK YOU for fighting when so many can't, or won't, or don't think about it. THANK YOU for your sacrifice even in the face of blame for making it worse. THANK YOU FOR YOUR SELFLESSNESS. 

Token of My Gratitude

Dears Readers,

I just wanted to take a moment and tell you all how wonderful you are! Getting messages asking how come I'm not posting is a lovely feeling, helps me know that my words are appreciated, that they are making a difference to someone and that will always be enough to continue to do what I love! And because of you, my love for writing only grows!

xo
B