Five Minute Friday – Rhythm

Five Minute Friday – Rhythm

So! Here we go again, another Five Minute Friday, this time on a Sunday-day.We’re going with whatever works, still, until life moves a little slower and more predictable for me, which, hopefully will be in less than 15 years from now, but who knows. I have very small children, so no one hold your breath on that one, ok?

In the meantime, just note that my Five Minute Fridays–will be anywhere from Friday to, um, Thursday night. Yes, I do believe I posted that late once; the good news about this group and challenge is that it’s full of grace and forgiveness. And thankfully too, each week is a new week to start over and aim for Friday night writing, should life line up accordingly. Which happens for me, it looks like once in a blue moon or every other month or so.

For a reminder-this Five Minute Friday thing is a weekly writing “game”  from my bloggy friend Lisa-Jo Baker, who blogs (and writes heart-breakingly, beautiful words and stories) at http://lisajobaker.com/

So, here’s the challenge, should you accept it: you write for 5 minutes with freedom like you have no fear or shame.  Or propensity for run-on sentences, like I do.  Pretend those don’t exist or don’t matter. (Ha!) And then you have to be brave (or at least pretend to be) and link up to her blog. Encouraging the writer who links up before you is part of the deal, too.  This last rule is crucial, as we all need to encourage others. Why encourage another writer? Because at one point or another in our lives, we all need encouraging too.

Each week is a new word, a new thought starter, and you have 5 minutes to write….and are you ready?

go-

Rhythm

thanks to savit keawtavee for the image.
thanks to savit keawtavee for the image.

We all sit gathered around a tiny table in a restaurant wondering how and if this planned “dance” that we are doing is really going to go down, and everyone’s a little guarded, defensive, unsure about themselves and the inevitability of this dance going to the world-wide interwebs where the judges on their couches and in dark rooms with bright computer screens will deem you internet gold or rusted metal in an instant, all based on their impression of your moves, your rhythm.

And the truth is that we’re not afraid of the publicity so much as we are afraid of the judging of our awkward bodies dancing, trying to find the rhythm to a song, which is really trying to find a rhythm to a soul that is so vulnerable and childlike that we dare to say that we are one of the ones that belong to over-populated club of “Does Not Dance.”

I may or may not be one of the card-carrying members.

But really, the only difference the ones that can and will dance, madly, passionately, unashamed like those brave souls on the Ellen show is the confidence that they have to listen to their own soul, revel in their own awkward body movements and shapes, and be ok with whatever funny (or cool) shapes their arms and legs contort into.

These are the truly unafraid.

We need to remember to find our own rhythm, be ok with our own feeble, erroneous and most of the time not-so-graceful selves and just lose ourselves in the music.  Toddlers do it, and we applaud voraciously and find joy in them finding movement, the need to move in such an imperfect way yet we so afraid to be so vulnerable as to just dance?

Though it scares me breathless some days, I find this vulnerability (my freestyle dancing at the heart of this matter) one of the most beautiful gifts this life has to offer.

May I not be so scared by the moves and rhythms of my own soul.

Five Minute Friday – Fall

So! Here we go again, another Five Minute Friday, this time on a Sunday night.

We’re going with whatever works.

So, this time I was an overachiever and wrote for longer than five minutes, and the time limit is a big part of the rules of Five Minute Friday, so this time, sharing with you all, but not linking up, as it doesn’t seem to be fair. I’ve found that for me, writing is like the running I did in my teenage years–sometimes, I just needed to keep running, farther and longer than I had planned, not because of any calorie or health-driven reason, but simply because I needed the mental space, that the running helped clear my head.  Writing most days, is not unlike the running of my youth.  So hence my over-five-minutes Friday entry.

For a reminder-this Five Minute Friday thing is a weekly writing “game”  from my bloggy friend Lisa-Jo Baker, who blogs (and writes heart-breakingly, beautiful words and stories) at http://lisajobaker.com/

So, here’s the challenge, should you accept it: you write for 5 minutes with freedom like you have no fear or shame.  Or propensity for run-on sentences, like I do.  Pretend those don’t exist or don’t matter. (Ha!) And then you have to be brave (or at least pretend to be) and link up to her blog. Encouraging the writer who links up before you is part of the deal, too.  This last rule is crucial, as we all need to encourage others. Why encourage another writer? Because at one point or another in our lives, we all need encouraging too.

Each week is a new word, a new thought starter, and you have 5 minutes to write….and are you ready?

go-

Fall

Thanks to Paul Gooddy for the image.

Fall-a season, a word, a noun, and mostly, an action we’d rather forget.

A fall from grace, a trip, slip and a fall that eludes that we are anything but dignified, smart, and reminds us constantly, obnoxious in it’s pride, that we are not in control.

We’re not ever in control, we tend to forget this.  Falling frequently, mostly stumbling and tripping on my own human feet and inadequacies tends to help me remember. There’s yet to be a sidewalk crack in my path that I haven’t tripped over.

Our frequent falls, fails, mistakes, missteps, errors of judgement and timing tell us something we’d rather not articulate: we’re not in control at all.  That control, of anything it seems, is really just an illusion.  And a really funny one, a fun house distorted mirror, and seems especially cruel if you have small children underfoot.

Our falls remind us that we’re human.  Which is not a bad thing.  Perhaps that’s why we’re so embarrassed of them when they happen, it lets us know there are greater things than us our there, it connects us to our roots, the very essence of who we are: messy, fumbly, awkward and desperately in need of each other. Perhaps that’s also why, when we get older, we tend to be more embarrassed of a fall; we are adults, supposed to hold it all together. I’m sure I’m not the only one that has an older relative that is shameful of a slip.  But the falls are a gift—a reminder that we’re not robots, perfect or complete, and the greatest joys and sorrows is to live our life to the fullest in our temporary skins and emotions.

But the thing to remember is this-all of our mistakes lead us to the greatest of falls: falling on our knees.