Last month, I started writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. I’m continuing this month so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. Today’s prompt asks us to tell about teeth – – any story about teeth.
Last month, I started writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa in our Stafford Challenge small group. I’m continuing so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. One thing I appreciate as a writer is that during times when I’ve barely got my head above water with all the energy and demands from life and work, there are prompts to get me started – – which, of course, is the most important spark. Today, the prompt hits home in tender spots, asking us to write about what we feel when we see a homeless person holding a sign on the corner or to tell about a specific person that perhaps we didn’t pay attention to.
Last month, I started writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. I continue this month to forge through the deck. Today’s prompt inspires us to tell something we are good at.
This month, I am continuing writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. Today’s prompt, card 33 of 60, asks us to write down, in 15 minutes, everything we can name that will not last and to keep the pen moving.
Last month, I started writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. I’m continuing this month so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. Today’s prompt is about what brings peace and what is not peaceful in your day. As a fan of visual poetry, I chose the form of the breathing wave today the way it may appear on a screen in a medical office (scroll fast and you can see the wave appear in the line breaks.
Last month, I started writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. I’m continuing this month so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. Today’s prompt asks us to tell all about our favorite city.
Last month, I started writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, and I’m continuing this month so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts.Today’s post asks us to consider all the ways people suffer.
I’m not in a mindset to write as much about suffering since I’ve seen my father’s suffering through illness and death so recently – and it has left some raw wounds not yet healed – but I am in a mindset of certainty that once the suffering is over, there is great reward and comfort in the arms of a loving Heavenly Father. I can imagine the desserts at the buffet are pretty tasty, too, and calorie-free, but I have appealed to the Lord to please ban Dad from the dessert table until we get his house and storage rooms cleaned out. I have a secret hope that there is a big screen TV in Heaven and he’s having to sit in a time-out chair and watch us clean it all out while all the other angels up there are swooning over the cakes and pies. We asked Dad so many times to please let us help him clean up and get some affairs sorted out, but we were always met with his insistence that he had it under control. And his attitude.
His definition of ‘under control’ and ours were on opposite ends of the spectrum. Nothing was under control. Most things in his house, health, mind, and world were, in fact, spinning out of control. This, too, I’m convinced, was all a part of his suffering in not being able to admit he could no longer function – – and having too much pride to accept the help he so desperately needed.
I’m convinced: we are all suffering. If we were to all sit in a circle and generate ideas about the order of the worst kinds of suffering, we might could gnaw all the meat off the bone with our stories.
And then, there is Romans 8:18: For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. And herein lies a Haiku to remind us of this truth:
Last month, I started writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. I’m continuing this month so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. Goldberg’s book was among those recommended at the top of my reading list by the chair of my doctoral committee a decade ago, and the messages about writing remain timeless.
Today’s topic: How are you invisible?
I’m not invisible, but our ghost is the closest thing to invisible around here, even though the presence is translucent. It’s an orb.
We’ve done a lot of unearthing of things around here lately. First, all the trees came down and I wonder whether some poor Civil War soldier is still looking for the missing button on his coat. Maybe he thinks it is in our garage.
Next, we lost Dad in June and have had to clear out seven storage rooms and his house, and in the process of preparing for the estate sale, I’ve brought home things to price – – such as old coins and all my great grandfather’s briarwood pipes and other relics that might have conjured up a spirit following them here with me.
I knew we had this invisible ghost when my eyes flew open, wide awake suddenly from a deep sleep where I thought I’d heard a noise. I turned on the camera in the garage, certain I was going to have to call 911 for an intruder. But that’s not what I saw.
I saw an orb. It was hovering and floating around just as you’d expect any ghost to do, all ethereally, very demure out there, not rattling any chains or slamming any objects around. It floated over between the camper and the truck like it was planning for how to pack when we go camping, and then it went off screen toward the Home Depot clearance sale fig tree before returning to the garage and floating unhurriedly in between the cars.
My husband woke at this point and asked what I was doing.
“We have a presence,” I told him. I added, “Don’t think me crazy, please. I have proof.”
When I explained I was waiting for the ghost to come back out of the garage, he pointed out it might have slipped through right underneath the camera where I couldn’t see it exit. Then, as an afterthought, he pulled up the camera in the living room – the one we use to check on the dogs – and there was no orb floating around in there. Good thing – – that’s just on the other side of our bedroom door.
I snapped a few photos, but then realized I needed to renew the Ring subscription to capture any video.
Flash forward to two nights ago, and I now see two orbs in one of the videos.
And last night, I captured sound for the first time. We’d gone to bed shortly before the time on the two videos that prompted the camera to record. I will check those out today and post them another day so that you can hear the clicking and breathing of this ghost. Perhaps this evening we will move more cameras around to this side of the house so that we can see from other angles as well.
Here on the Johnson Funny Farm, we continue to attract all the quirky animals, people, and spirits. We look forward to finding out who this is and how we can help. We feel it’s a friendly presence with some kind of unsettled business. And like all the wildlife around here, it has come to a safe place to find some peace.
Last month, I started writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. I’m continuing this month so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. Goldberg’s book was among those recommended at the top of my reading list by the chair of my doctoral committee a decade ago, and the messages about writing remain timeless. Today’s prompt encourages us to map our bedroom in words as a way to build descriptive techniques.
Last month, I started writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. I’m continuing this month so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. Goldberg’s book was among those recommended at the top of my reading list by the chair of my doctoral committee a decade ago, and the messages about writing remain timeless.
So let’s begin September with a farewell letter. Today’s card: Write a farewell letter. Mine is to the mindset on the arrival of fall.
Common Threads 