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Sitting at Starbucks with Writers Block

I have recently started working on a new short e-book, Living Unveiled. And I admit to trying to avoid it. It’s taking me into some uncomfortable places in my childhood, places of pain and abuse. Funny, I think writing it is helping me live unveiled. Or at least more unveiled. Essentially, its about how we live in hiding, keeping ourselves behind masks or veils to protect us, when God means for us to live fully. And you can’t live to the full when you’re hiding.

On a completely different note, Apple’s autocomplete really needs some work. It is causing me some serious frustration. Combining words I don’t want combined into the most interesting concoctions. Like julliard. And iaejstt. Ok, that last one isn’t true.

So, I’m sitting here at Starbucks planning to watch calculus lectures from MIT instead. Because I have to have time to breathe. To write this out, even without all the gory details, is taking my breath like a hard run. Its not even like I don’t talk about it. I have boldly told practical strangers about my childhood abuse and subsequent mental issues. Depression, fear, anxiety, possible homicidal thoughts. But this book could go out to the world. Can I unveil that much?

i guess I don’t like that I am still hiding in some ways. I have hid for years and I am tired of it. Tired of the front to get people to like me, when I am not really the person they like. I’m even finding that my voice is lost as I write, because what if they don’t like my brash, in-your-face self. And I try to write all poetic like Ann Voskamp but it doesn’t work. So, I know I have some re-writing to do and I’m avoiding it. With calculus.

 
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Posted by on May 25, 2013 in Writing

 

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A Reflection: I Am Not an Elf

The title will make sense eventually. I admit to being a bit obsessive in my love of all Tolkien. So, if you are not someone who has read the books or watched the movies & loved it, this post is not for you.

I remember reading The Hobbit for the first time. I was in middle school and had just devoured The Chronicles of Narnia and I was ready to jump head first into the world of fantasy. My dear aunt let me borrow her second American edition of The Hobbit, and I couldn’t put it down. Literally. I read as I walked through the school halls between classes. I read during class. (If any of my old teachers read this at some point, I hope it won’t affect my grade.) I stayed up absurdly late reading it.  I laughed and cried with the characters.

And I will never forget when we first meet the Elves. I think everyone is enchanted by the Elves. Who wouldn’t be? Their mystery and otherworldly beauty is captivating. And I wanted to be one. I was memorizing lines in Elvish and plotting my wardrobe change before you could blink.

Years later, I experienced this feeling again when Lord of the Rings came out to theaters. Even the score written for the Elves fits that feeling. Just like Frodo and Sam, we watch with jaws dropped and a sense of awe. And I longed to be one.

But I have come to the realization that I am not an Elf. I will never be Galadriel or Arwen. While I can admire and stare in amazement at such as these, it is not who I am.  I am more like Eowyn, strong but still feminine.  Maybe a little melancholy at times.  At least, like her, I really lucked out on the man I got.  But I am not solemn, and while Elves are beautiful and graceful, I think I am finally beginning to be happy with being a simple Rohirrim maiden.

 
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Posted by on May 9, 2013 in Seeing Myself

 

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