Category Archives: Writing

Posts related to writing

Telling Tales – The Walk is Part of the Gift

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Hi Folks:  As a writer and a storyteller, I collect stories the way others might collect stamps or record albums or…  I collect them because they give me pleasure, and because it gives me pleasure to share them with others.  Wherever I can I give credit to the person or people who authored a given story, but sometimes one comes across a story that is listed simply as ‘Author Unknown’.  The following stort story is one of those.  So to whomever authored this story, my gratitude!

Mike.

_____

An old Cree woman decided one day to present a priest she knew and loved with a sample of her embroidery.  She left the house early, and began her journey to the town far away.  The ground was hard and her feet were sore, but she continued on her quest.

As the day progressed, the sun beat down on her and baked her skin.  The stones on the path cut her feet, and by the time she arrived at her destination, she was exhausted, her lips were cracked, and her feet were bleeding.  Nonetheless, when the priest answered the door she held her embroidery up with great pride.

The priest’s eyes were filled with tears as he took the delicate embroidery from her hands, but his gaze was filled with the question ‘Why?’.

Looking up at him, the woman said, “Father, you don’t understand.  The walk is part of the gift.”

Author Unknown.

Poetry Corner – Being the Light

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This week Mike and I have been discussing the subject of being the light – radiating our own inner light out to the world around us. It may, or may not, become a topic for our next He Says/She Says post … yet it sparked my search for poetry related to light and joy in life. I was quickly successful when I picked up a recent ‘find’ at my very favourite Victoria book store – Russell Books.

From Gifts from a Course in Miracles:

Light and Joy

You are the light of the world.

The light is in you.
Darkness can cover it,
but cannot put it out.

Why wait for Heaven?
Those who seek the light
are merely covering their eyes.
The light is in them now.
Enlightenment is but a recognition,
not a change at all.

There is no difference
between love and joy.

Joy has no cost.
It is your sacred right.

You can exchange all suffering
for joy this very day.
Practice in earnest,
and the gift is yours.

In Light and Laughter,

Marcia

Marcia’s Meanderings – Synchronicity and Inspirational Guidance

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Well, dear folks, Sunday’s She Says post on the topic of ‘Destiny or Choice – A Matter of Beliefs?’ got my mind meandering back to past events and to synchronicities in my life. So many to contemplate, yet in addition to the one I shared in that post, the following synchronicity is one I often use when giving an example of the magic of life when one listens to inspirational guidance.

A few years back I was at home doing the much needed laundry and other housekeeping chores. From the start of my morning I had a niggling thought to go downtown to the indoor mall. There was nothing I needed to buy; I just had a sense to go. Now keep in mind that I abhor shopping of any kind. When I have a need to purchase something – groceries, clothes – I head to the store, get what I want and get out. No doddling and certainly no window shopping or browsing. So for me to get a thought to go shopping with no intention is – to say the least – unusual.

I let the thought pass and continued with my housework. The morning passed into afternoon and the thought kept resurfacing with a greater and greater sense of urgency. This was really odd. The kids were away till after dinner and once I had completed the day’s chores I had no reason to ignore the impulse. What would it hurt to go? I could always stop in at the bookstore for a gander at the latest titles.

So off I went to the mall and straight to the bookstore on the lower floor. I stood for a moment in the entranceway of the store glancing at the books on the display stand. Then I had the feeling that there might be something of interest toward the back of the store. I headed there.

It was summer and I was not wearing a coat, so when I approached the woman who was mumbling to herself she likely mistook me for a clerk.

“May I help you?” I asked her.

“I’m looking for a specific book my friend told me I absolutely had to read,” she stated with a very frustrated expression on her unhappy face. “And I can’t remember either the title of the book or even the name of the author,” she added with a very deep sigh.

In the passing of a mere second I stretched out my arm and, with my hand out and palm up, I curled all my fingers, except one, into my palm. I then bent my index finger toward myself a few times motioning her to follow me. She did.

I led her from the back to the front of the store, over to a particular shelf. I then pointed to one specific book and asked her if this was the one she was looking for. She looked amazed that I had found exactly the book she had come to buy!

“How did you know?” she asked with the widest of eyes.

I smiled and said, “Once you’ve finished reading this book, I want you to remember this encounter.”

With those words, I turned around and walked out of the store and headed back home. I knew I could leave as the earlier niggly feeling had been replaced with a sense of successful completion.

This example of synchronicity and inspiration is common in my life. Most often a daily occurrence, though I tend to see expressions of this in simpler ways now. Even in the simplest of synchronicities there is such a sense of awe and delight.

The above story I have told many times through the years and will probably continue to do so when its example is appropriate. Likely so is the woman in the bookstore still telling this tale! If you are reading this, dear lady, let me know! I’d love to hear where your life’s journey has led you!

Oh, by the way, the book she was looking for was The Celestine Prophecy.

In Light and Laughter,

Marcia

He Says, She Says…

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Greetings:

Our topic for this week comes from a quote in a book that both Marcia and Mike have recently read.  The book is titled, ‘The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid‘, by Bill Bryson.  On page 10 of the book, he wrote:

“The two teams split the first two games, so it came down to a third, deciding game.  At last the Dodgers appeared to recover their invincibility, taking a comfortable 4 to 1 lead into the ninth inning and needing just three outs to win.  But the Giants scored a late run and put two more runners aboard when Bobby Thomson stepped to the plate.  What Thomson did that afternoon in the gathering dusk of autumn has many times been voted the greatest moment in baseball history.

“Dodger reliever Ralph Branca threw a pitch that made history yesterday,” one of those present wrote.  “Unfortunately it made history for someone else.  Bobby Thomson, the ‘Flying Scotsman’ swatted Branca’s second offering over the left field wall for a game-winning home run so momentous, so startling, that it was greeted with a moment’s stunned silence.

“Then, when the realization of the miracle came, the double-decked stands of the Polo Grounds rocked on their forty-year-old foundations.  The Giants had won the pennant, completing one of the unlikeliest comebacks baseball has ever seen.”

The author of those words was my father – who was abruptly, unexpectedly, present for Thomson’s moment of magesty.  Goodness knows how he had talked the notoriously frugal management of the Register into sending him the 1,132 miles from Des Moines to New York for the crucial deciding game – an act of rash expenditure radically out of keeping with decades of careful precedent – or how he had managed to secure credentials and a place in the press box at such a late hour.

But then he had to be there.  It was part of his fate, too.  I am not exactly suggesting that Bobby Thomson hit that home run because my father was there or implying that he wouldn’t have hit it if my father had not been there.  All I am saying is that my father was there and Bobby Thomson was there and the home run was hit and these things could not have been otherwise.”

So, what then guides the dictates of our lives?  Is it fate?  Is it a Guiding Hand or some supernatural force?  Or are our lives the summaries of our choices?  For this week’s ‘He Says, She Says’ post we thought we’d take on “Destiny or Choice: A Matter of Beliefs?”

Follow these links to read what He Says/She Says: Marcia’s View / Mike’s View

Telling Tales: The Law of the Garbage Truck

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Hi Folks:  We came across this story by David J. Pollay recently, and with his permission we’re including it on our blog.  It’s a simple story, but like many simply stories, one well worth remembering.  If you have not yet heard of David, here is his bio:

David J. Pollay is the creator of The Law of the Garbage Truck™.  He is a syndicated columnist, creator and host of The Happiness Answer™ television program, and an internationally sought after speaker.  David’s book, The Law of the Garbage Truck: Take control of your life with one decision and change the world, will be published by Sterling Publishing in September, 2010.  You can find out more about The Law of the Garbage Truck™ at www.thelawofthegarbagetruck.com.

David holds a Master’s degree of applied positive psychology (M.A.P.P.) from the University of Pennsylvania, and a Bachelor’s degree in economics from Yale University.  He is the founding associate executive director of the International Positive Psychology Association.  You can catch David’s newsletter here.  You can reach him at david@themomentumproject.com, and you can read David’s blog at www.pollayblog.com.

Without further ado, here’s David’s “Law of the Garbage Truck” (NB: After reading the story, click on the link and take David’s “No Garbage Trucks Pledge”!)

Mike.

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Marcia’s Meanderings – Faith & Hope

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Welcome to the New Year of 2010. It certainly is already proving out to be an amazing one for many. May it be so for you as well, dear reader!

At the beginning of each new year I go through my notes from the year previous – reviewing the best of the best and putting sticky arrows on pages worthy of a relook in the coming weeks. It seems 2009 was a record breaker for me with the number of poems written in a single 12 month period. Plus there were several sections of my journals (filled 4 since this time last year) that have what appear to be quality ideas for descriptive phrases I may use in upcoming short stories or my next novel.

However, I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself as I have a current novel – my first – that is in its second draft and that I hope to have in print by June of this year. In addition to my time writing here at M&M’s Musings, my commitment to myself and my Self is this novel’s completion. What a joyous journey it has been and continues to be! I have such faith in the realization of this dream manifesting before 2010 is even half over.

Faith has to do with things not seen, and hope with things not in hand. ~ St. Thomas Aquinas

The topic for today’s meanderings is simple – Faith and Hope. (Notice I left out the Trust? That’s a topic on its own for another day.) I’ve already used both words in the writings above: I hope to have my book in print by June; I have such faith in the realization of this dream. To some it sounds like I’m referring to the same thing, merely phrasing it differently. Yet there is a remarkable difference in the two. The hope is to have the novel in book form in my hand so I and others can read it. The faith is in the unknown factor behind the scenes.

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He Says, She Says…

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Greetings:  Well, we’re now into our second month of having our blog site, of being ‘citizen journalists’, and this process has opened many different doors for us both.  With that in mind we thought we’d tackle the idea of what this means to each of us, taking on the subject of ‘Social Networking’.

Follow these links to read what He Says/She Says: Marcia’s View / Mike’s View

Telling Tales – New Year’s Eve

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Last night we caught the bus downtown as we wanted to be near the water. There’s one place in town that’s on our ‘dream list’ and we went there first. It was raining yesterday, but although we brought our umbrellas with us the rain stayed away. The sky was a blanket of cloud however, and Marcia said, “It would be nice to see the Grandmother tonight.” Well, where we were going there’s a bench and we sat down there and looked over at our ‘home’… All of a sudden the sky cleared in a circle around the moon and she shone down bright and beautiful and directly over our home. The clouds were like veils of mist coalescing around her, but there were also rainbows from the light shining down. It was the only clear patch in anotherwise cloudy sky. We both sat there going, “Wow…”, glued to our seats.

A little later on we were walking down by the docks and we were met by this beautiful long-haired orange and white cat. He wouldn’t let us approach him at first, but he was quite content to be our guide as we followed the path around the harbour. At first it was quite a treat to have him as our guide, but we began to grow concerned the farther we went as he showed no signs of going back home. As we walked, he walked, sometimes in front, sometimes beside, sometimes trailing behind but always keeping pace. He walked about 1 1/2 km with us, and nothing we said would dissuade him, even though he was getting farther and farther from his ‘home’. If we sat, he sat beside us, even gaining some lap space at one point. We finally read his tag – AZAN – and called the phone number on the tag, but being New Year’s Eve there was nobody home. When we reached a busy street his fear overcame him and he would go no farther. We kept going north, and after a bit of hesitation he began to follow another couple walking back the way we had come. We trust he made his way home safely. We finished our night down at the water, each holding a candle, lit from a place of peace within us.

Love,
Mike.

Poetry Corner – moving into 2010

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Dear Ones,

Last week’s Poetry Corner honoured women poets and their Christmas poems. This week, so close to New Year’s Eve, I thought to offer the same honour to the male poet counterparts. Alas, there were such sad, depressing and angry poems written by the men that I had a hard time finding any poems at all that resonated with optimism and the love of the past year going and expressing excited potential of the year newly to arrive. All, that is, but the one I’ve recorded below by Robert W. Service – whose last stanza fit the very mood I hoped to create as the baton of love changes hands to another year of possibility:

The Passing of the Year

  

by Robert W. Service
Jan. 16, 1874 – Sept. 11, 1958
 
My glass is filled, my pipe is lit,
My den is all a cosy glow;
And snug before the fire I sit,
And wait to feel the old year go.
I dedicate to solemn thought
Amid my too-unthinking days,
This sober moment, sadly fraught
With much of blame, with little praise.

Old Year! upon the Stage of Time
You stand to bow your last adieu;
A moment, and the prompter’s chime
Will ring the curtain down on you.
Your mien is sad, your step is slow;
You falter as a Sage in pain;
Yet turn, Old Year, before you go,
And face your audience again.

That sphinx-like face, remote, austere,
Let us all read, whate’er the cost:
O Maiden! why that bitter tear?
Is it for dear one you have lost?
Is it for fond illusion gone?
For trusted lover proved untrue?
O sweet girl-face, so sad, so wan
What hath the Old Year meant to you?

And you, O neighbour on my right
So sleek, so prosperously clad!
What see you in that aged wight
That makes your smile so gay and glad?
What opportunity unmissed?
What golden gain, what pride of place?
What splendid hope?  O Optimist!
What read you in that withered face?

And You, deep shrinking in the gloom,
What find you in that filmy gaze?
What menace of a tragic doom?
What dark, condemning yesterdays?
What urge to crime, what evil done?
What cold, confronting shape of fear?
O haggard, haunted, hidden One
What see you in the dying year?

And so from face to face I flit,
The countless eyes that stare and stare;
Some are with approbation lit,
And some are shadowed with despair.
Some show a smile and some a frown;
Some joy and hope, some pain and woe:
Enough!  Oh, ring the curtain down!
Old weary year! it’s time to go.

My pipe is out, my glass is dry;
My fire is almost ashes too;
But once again, before you go,
And I prepare to meet the New:
Old Year! a parting word that’s true,
For we’ve been comrades, you and I —
I thank God for each day of you;
There! bless you now!  Old Year, good-bye!

  

And since this is my blog spot I get to choose one final poem of the year. One of my own, commemorating the departure of the old year and the honouring of the new:

Ode to New Year’s Day

by Marcia Mae Nelson Pedde

Today we smile in celebration of the new
Let go the past to better see the future view
Behold what can be, shall be, will
Emblazoned by desire beating still
And fearing failure never more
Stepping boldly through the door
Into the realm of quantum realm
Perfection

Happy New Year Everyone.

May you bring to 2010 every opportunity for the most amazing year … filled to overflowing with not merely the potential but the realization of dreams come true. Allow in all that is good. Live your highest excitement each and every moment of your day. Laugh and love and play and create. Be the best you in all your precious moments.

In Light & Laughter & Love,

Marcia