Why I Still Celebrate {CELEBRATE This Week: 201}

I'm glad you are here to celebrate! 

Share a link to your blog post below and/or use #celebratelu to share celebrations on Twitter. Check out the details here. Celebrate This Week goes live on Friday night around 10(ish). Consider it as a weekend celebration. Whenever it fits in your life, add your link. 

Please leave a little comment love for the person who links before you.

*******

I've written over 200 celebration posts, which has caused me to ask:

Do I still want to celebrate?

I cringe and look away from the sharp words. Not-thinking about something doesn't make it go away. The question taunts, demanding an answer.

The past twelve months have been grueling. Sometimes I've wondered if I'm a fake digging up something to celebrate each week.

There's nothing fake about my celebrations.

I dredge celebrations because the world is dark. 

Dreadfully dark. 

Disturbingly dark. 

Dismally dark.

The whole wide world is dark. It isn't only in shadowy remote corners, but dark is in our backyards, with kids living in cars and abandoned barns; teens lonely or drunk or hungry; dads in handcuffs and moms strung out. The world is dark.

There's a lot of talk these days about grit -- rugged toughness to get through life. Often I consider gritty celebration. I like the juxtaposition of the terms.

Grit is plowing through the dark.

Celebration is shining a light.

Maybe we wouldn't need so much grit to face the world if we took more time to celebrate.

I still celebrate because, as Kate DiCamillo wisely states, light is precious in a world so dark.

Thank you for Celebrating This Week, whether you've been joining in for hundreds of celebrations or if this week is your first. Together, we will change the world from darkness to light.

Blog Challenge Reflection

Surprised.

This is the emotion that is driving my reflection. This week I've been surprised as I've stepped through the 7-Day Intentional Blogging Challenge hosted by Jeff Goins.

I was surprised I joined. It was a whim, and I invited Jen Vincent to join too. I was surprised she said yes. I was surprised the way we checked-in and encouraged and supported one another many times each day throughout the challenge. I had forgotten how much I need writing buddies throughout the process. This surprised me -- collaboration is one of my core beliefs, and yet as my life journey grew rocky these past few weeks, I retreated. This challenge reminded me of the way writers need each other during challenging times. More importantly, it served as a reminder that people need each other when life gets challenging. I didn't expect this life lesson from a blogging challenge.

It reminds me that writing always gives more than it takes.

I'm surprised at how my thoughts on blogging have expanded. Lately, through a course with Tim Grahl, I've been pushed to be intentional about using my online space to do two things:

1. Create lasting connections.
2. Be exceedingly helpful.

I love these goals. I'm unsure how all of the feelings in my heart about why I blog and what this community of teacher-writers means to me can be boiled down to six words, but I 'm glad. I like simplicity. It's a worthy mission and one I've been developing since I first started blogging more than a decade ago. I was surprised how the Intentional Blogging Challenge has supported and encouraged me in this mission, while at the same time gave me new resolve and permission to be someone who creates lasting connections and is exceedingly helpful.

Ultimately, this is my biggest surprise: the permission to emerge as a stronger and more purposeful writer than ever before. For those of you who are long time readers, following me from space to space, watching me walk away from a popular blog and land here, floundering as I learned to write for myself and an audience of One rather than for hits and popularity, you know this is not a slight thing.

Anais Nin's words have been ringing in my mind.

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."

It is not a slight thing to learn you can blossom again.

*****

{This post is part of a 7-Day Intentional Blogging Challenge hosted by Jeff Goins. For more information and to see what others are writing, check out the invitation and Facebook page.}

Take a Risk {CELEBRATE This Week: 129}

 

I'm glad you are here to celebrate! Share a link to your blog post below and/or use #celebratelu to share celebrations on Twitter. Check out the details here. Celebrate This Week goes live on Friday night around 10(ish). Consider it as a weekend celebration. Whenever it fits in your life, add your link. Please leave a little comment love for the person who links before you.

******

A month ago I met my friend, Becca for lunch. She gave me a miniature pot of Gerber Daisies. "They're my favorite!" I said when she handed them to me.

"I know," she said, "And they were too cute not to buy."

I brought them home and put them in my kitchen window sill. (Next to Jaws, Sam's Venus Flytrap.) It was a happy day, lunch with Becca, then celebrating Sam's birthday with a bowling with the buddies party. That morning I talked with my editor about the book and had positive feedback that fueled me for the final leg. I'd made lots of progress with a project at school and was caught up on email. I was on top of the world, feeling good professionally and as a writer, momma, and friend.

Things shifted that night and life became stormy. My flowers remained happy in the window. It was dark week, that first week of February, but my flowers remained a constant reminder of a very good day in a very good life.

They reminded me to live by Truth, not by feelings. 

Then they did the thing all flowers do, the blooms wore out and needed pruned. You might be surprised to know that although I tend words just fine, plants are another story entirely. I have a real black thumb when it comes to flowers...a very black thumb. Once those beautiful blooms droop, there's very little hope of another round making an appearance.

I decided my best case scenario was to keep watering and maybe I could plant it in a summer pot. February was not an easy month. I kept watering the little plant even though I didn't think it mattered. There's no way more blooms would come. It continued to remind me to live by Truth, not by feelings. The truth was the plant needed water. My feelings said nothing would make a difference to make the plant bloom again. I'm destitute when it comes to blooms.

Mid-month, I noticed a peculiar shape in the center of my plant. If I weren't so sure there would never be another bloom, I might have recognized the bud. I kept watering and the bud grew. Soon there were two strong buds shooting up from the center of the plant. Not only was the plant creating new blooms, but I realized I was a different person too, a stronger parent than before.

The storms brewed through the month, but I continued to trust God is good, rather than believing my feelings. I watched the buds grow and was reminded that God is faithful -- He will forever regenerate the old and make new. The old blooms were droopy and worn, and the new were strong and straight.

Near the end of the month, a third bud sprung up on the little flower. It chuckled, reminding me that God is a God of abundance. I've been watching these buds for many days, that have turned to weeks. They keep growing and changing and each day I am sure they are going to burst into a bloom.

The storms can rage and a gentle flower can gain strength. The same is true for us. The winds can howl and the rains pelt and the dark clouds hunker down and we can still grow faith. We can still gain strength.

I couldn't wait for March. The calendar flipped and the grey of February was covered. I brewed my coffee and held the warm mug in my hands. I raised my eyes to the window sill and there, in the early hours of March 1, the buds burst and the petals began to unfold.

Anais Nin's words rang true in my mind: 

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."

 Sometimes we can't trust our feelings. We must keep moving forward by faith because we know the truth of the matter is there is something greater than what we feel or see. We remain faithful and new growth is generated. We keep in step and new life begins to bud. We live well, but it doesn't mean we avoid storms. We believe in a good God, but it doesn't mean we never have heart ache.

A well-lived life is a series of seasons. It is my hope to embrace each one and take the risk to blossom.

*****

Are we email friends yet? I've been playing with my newsletter and have decided to use it as a place to offer stories, tips, and inspiration for teaching writers. This content goes out to my my email friends before it's shared anywhere else. Next week, I'm sharing a small story from my family room floor and tugging a thread to find the way tiny stories lead to big meaning. On most Tuesdays, you can expect strategies for teaching writers, delightful stories, or little updates about my writing life.

Just add your email here and have encouragement for teaching writers delivered right to your inbox!

Send me some inspiration!

* indicates required

Email Address *

First Name *

Last Name (Optional)

Email Format

• html
• text

*****

I can't wait to read your celebrations!

Is Writing Essential?

Writing makes my life better. I'm better when I write and I'm better when others write and I read their stories.

When I have an audience, I'm clear. I'm better at being focused and unfolding my meaning with thoughtful intention. My words pack a punch because I craft for power, making sure my spelling and conventions back up my meaning. An audience offers feedback and nudges my thinking, making me a better writer, forcing me to live a better story.

When I write between the covers of my notebook, I'm raw. I'm better at being fearless in my notebook. Things don't have to be thought-out, scoured through for what might be right and what might be wrong. My notebook doesn't judge me when I'm in the process of sorting things out. My notebook doesn't judge me when I'm learning a new craft move. My notebook doesn't judge me when my content and craft take over my spelling and conventions. My notebook offers me a place to be vulnerable, making me a better writer, forcing me to live a better story.

My notebook is all kinds of comfort and an audience makes my palms sweaty. If I'm not careful, I could hole up in my notebook. I don't have to risk embarrassment or getting something wrong. I don't have to risk hurting feelings or feeling stupid.

So I wonder why share my story? Why encourage others to share their stories? Does it matter? Would the world be a better place if we just holed up in our notebooks and never shared our words.

I don't think so.

Story changes the world. The only way our story is shared is if we are brave enough to give it, to offer it, to believe it will make the world a better place.

Do we have to write to share our stories?

Nope. The simple answer is no, no we do not. As Tom Romano shares in Write What Matters, "Writing is not essential to a well-lived life."

I have to admit, these words sting a bit. Sometimes the truth hurts. Writing is not essential to a well-lived life. Andy doesn't write, and yet I know of no one who lives life better.

Writing isn't essential for a well-lived life.

I supposed this same case could be made for reading and math, too. They aren't essential for a well-lived life. Although it makes me cringe as much as the thought of writing being inessential for a well-lived life. I'm still not sure I believe it, that these things aren't essential for a well-lived life.

If I boil it down to the bones, I find I'm left with story. It's not fair to keep it hidden. It's not enough to hold it and never share it. Whether we talk or draw or write our stories, the important thing is we share them with an audience.


We've gotta share our stories with a real, live, genuine audience. Because what I know for sure is when we take our stories out, with our hearts pounding and our palms sweaty, we become alive and the world becomes better. We understand one another in new ways and we gain grace. Story will only change the world if we share them.



This is why writing workshop is an essential part of education. We must learn to share our stories because they are part of something bigger than ourselves.

Book Piles & Editors {CELEBRATE This Week: 122}

 

I'm glad you are here to celebrate! Share a link to your blog post below and/or use #celebratelu to share celebrations on Twitter. Check out the details here. Celebrate This Week goes live on Friday night around 10(ish). Consider it as a weekend celebration. Whenever it fits in your life, add your link. Please leave a little comment love for the person who links before you.

******

I'm celebrating this book stack. Take a close look at it. I'm in love because it's such an eclectic mix of books.  I've set an aggressive deadline schedule to finish drafting my latest professional book. It's necessary so it will be real this Fall.

It will also take a miracle.

Earlier this week, I decided I needed to allow some research to guide me. I always love coming across quotes from other books when I read professional texts. If I love it, then I should write it.

With looming deadlines, it takes a remarkable amount of self-control to stay unhurried. I've committed to not rushing. After all, rushing is for amateurs. So I decided to linger in books and articles.

A small prayer and a short perusal of my favorites bookshelf and I landed with this pile. Here's the miracle:

It is spot-on.

This eclectic stack is giving just what I need...and more.

It provided a handful of quotes I shared to inspire my friend whose teaching heart was running on empty.

It unlocked some thinking I'm doing about happiness and joy.

It gave me a plethora of quotes for Part II (Empowered to Entice All Writers).

And it gave me this sustenance, from Jane Yolen's book, Take Joy: A Writers Guide to Loving the Craft. 

Linda [Yolen's editor] gave me permission to breathe, to take time in my books, to look about the landscape -- both outer and inner -- and finally to trust the reader would follow, even at a leisurely pace, where I led.

Why was that advice so important? Because there is more to any story than a cathedral, than a concentration camp, than a stolen sphinx. Take a deep breath, and when you blow it out slowly, you will see your story take on its own life. Not the life that you impose upon it, but the life the story itself tells you it needs.

Which brings me to my next celebration. Bill. He's my editor and has wrapped strong arms around this project. I've needed someone to cheer me on and rein me in. Bill is doing both. He keeps telling me, "Go slowly," and yet, at the same time, he's nudging me to finish soon.

It takes a sophisticated art to do both.

Am I a lucky writer, or what?

An InLinkz Link-up

My offerings to encourage writers (and their teachers), because I'm smitten by the way writers work...

{Discover. Play. Build.} Website. It's designed to be my offering to writing teachers. 

You'll find video minilessons and a link to the {Discover. Play. Build.} YouTube Channel where they are all housed.

{Discover. Play. Build.} Newsletter. They come each month. Register in the sidebar.

( For more information on these resources (and others), check out this post.)

Teach & Celebrate Writers (#TandCwriters) Twitter Chat -- Sunday, February 7 at 8:00 pm EST

 ***** 

Places you can find me celebrating throughout the week:
Instagram:  @ruth_ayres

Twitter: @ruth_ayres

Facebook: {Discover. Play. Build.}

CELEBRATE This Week XCVII (97)

I'm glad you are here to celebrate! Share a link to your blog post below and/or use #celebratelu to share celebrations on Twitter. Check out the details here. Celebrate This Week goes live on Friday night around 10(ish). Consider it as a weekend celebration. Whenever it fits in your life, add your link. Please leave a little comment love for the person who link

*******

Once upon a time," he said out loud to the darkness. He said these words because they were the best, the most powerful words that he knew and just the saying of them comforted him."

 ---Kate DiCamillo (The Tale of Despereaux)

I've been focusing on the in and out of each breath.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Ordinary and mundane acts that work a miracle.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Live.

One chance at one life. One chance to do it the best

I used to get all worked up about getting it right. Now, I'm just glad to have a chance to do my best. So here I am, celebrating the chance to be the best
momma
teacher
writer

that I can be.

CELEBRATE This Week XCV (95)

I'm glad you are here to celebrate! Share a link to your blog post below and/or use #celebratelu to share celebrations on Twitter. Check out the details here. Celebrate This Week goes live on Friday night around 10(ish). Consider it as a weekend celebration. Whenever it fits in your life, add your link. Please leave a little comment love for the person who links before you.

*****

One full week of school is under my belt. I'm breathing. Sipping coffee. Writing in my notebook. Collecting celebrations. Shifting my perspective with each celebration I unearth.

 

Click to enlarge.

Before this list, I was thinking about everything I didn't get done and everyone I thought I let down. I was thinking I need to stop wasting so much time. I was thinking about how I waste opportunities because I'm too busy dropping the ball or exhausted from not getting to bed earlier.

Because I took the time to collect a handful of celebrations, I'm able to see more clearly. I see now that there were moments treasured, not wasted. I inspired rather than harmed. I lived fully this week. 

*******
I posted this on Instagram around mid-week.

 

The caption read: Meet Clunker. I hope he doesn't eat too much! Sam insisted to send the photo to his teacher. So we texted it along with this message: This is Sam. Isn't Clunker cute? It turns out he likes cow legs for chew toys, but Mom won't let those in the house.

 

Yesterday during the school day Clunker got tired and fell over for a nap. When I arrived home, I couldn't pull into the garage because the boys were creating Indy cars from Clunker parts. (Just a little aside, Clunker's body was a coal tender last week.) 

 

Jennifer Laffin pointed me toward Caine's Arcade. Sam and I watched the short film and checkout the website this morning. I'm touched by this story. The way creativity is valued and the hearts of people to empower and encourage creativity within one another moves me.

 

I'm affirmed that my belief in play is crucial. It is not fluff. It is the fuel of powerful movements and life touching projects. Here is the first chart I put into "play" this week.

 

I'm learning unhurried doesn't mean a sparse to-do list. Unhurried doesn't mean I have hours unfolding with nothing to do. Unhurried means in the midst of running kids and encouraging teachers and writing chapters and driving and cooking and walking and drying dishes that I remember to laugh. I remember to enjoy this journey. I'm not going to pass this way again. Unhurried means I remember life is magical and I see this truth.

I hope you, too, take the time to discover your own celebrations and share them below.

  

An InLinkz Link-up

The Ketchup Incident

You have enough time. I have to remind myself of this often. I constantly fight the lie of the world that says there is not enough time.

Because there is.

When I was Hannah's age, 13, I started a quote book. One quote that I penned decades ago has been pricking at my mind and tonight I flipped through the yellow-edged pages just to find this:

“Don’t say you don’t have enough time to change the world. You have exactly the same number of hours per day that were given to Helen Keller, Gandhi, Michelangelo, Mother Teresa, Leonardo da Vinci and Jesus Christ.” --- Shannon L. Adler

These words have been rattling around inside my mind, bumping into that quote about enough hours in the day:

"Live a life worthy of the gospel of Christ." --- Paul, Philippians 1:27

What is a life worthy?

It's the ketchup incident. 

Sam asked me, "Mom, did you hear about the ketchup incident?"

"No. What's the ketchup incident?" I asked, pausing as I chopped the onion to start dinner.

"You've gotta hear this. Today I was opening one of those ketchup packets, you know the kind that say, 'tear here then squeeze'?"

I nod, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

"Well, I had to get ketchup for my hamburger, which I had to eat because you forgot to pack my lunch because Dad went to work early, but that's okay because it turns out I like school hamburgers. That's not the ketchup incident, but that's an aside to the story. Teachers don't like asides, but I think sometimes they make the best part of stories. But not this story. This story is good on its own."

"So, the ketchup incident," I redirect him.

"Yeah. I tore the corner off at 'tear here then squeeze' and I was squeezin', but nothing was coming out. It was stuck. So I squeezed harder and just like that, the whole back of the packet burst open and ketchup came flying past my ear and hit my friend -- splat -- right in his face!"

Sam's eyes were wide as he retold the story. "We were both laughing, because it's not like anyone can ever plan for a ketchup packet to burst open on the wrong end. Except some of it went past his face and hit the grouchiest teacher in the school."

Sam snickered.

"What happened?" I asked.

"We tried not to laugh, but I still got 5 minutes on the wall at recess. It's not a big deal, though. I know there are some people who just don't understand ketchup incidents."

I laughed at his story and the sincerity in which he told it. Sam returned to building Lego creations. I went back to building dinner. His words hung in the air. Some people just don't understand ketchup incidents.

Finally I asked, "What do you mean some people don't understand ketchup incidents?"

He snapped another brick into place. "Oh, you know, Mom. Sometimes people forget how rare it is for a ketchup packet to burst from the back. And what are the chances it whizzes past my ear, but hits my friend? And he thought it was funny! It's not everyday that happens."

"So ketchup incidents are the things that don't happen every day?"

"You got it. I like those stories."

"But not everyone does."

"No kidding. That's why I ended up on the wall, but all I did was replayed the ketchup incident in my brain movie."

He snickered again as he searched for a Lego piece.

He's right. It's the ketchup incidents that make life worthy. It's about the things we chose to pay attention to, the stories we deem important enough to replay in our brain movies and tell again and again. It's about accepting life as it's given and to recognize that even if there are some bumps (like spending time on the wall), it is still worth it to accept the ketchup incidents as they happen.


Helen Keller put her hand under a stream of water.
As a young boy, Gandhi was so shy he ran home from school so he wouldn't have to talk to anyone.
Michelangelo didn't want anything to do with painting the Sistine Chapel.

Mother Teresa questioned her faith at times.
Leonardo da Vinci had a reputation for not finishing the things he started.
Jesus turned water into wine.

Small stories that may seem insignificant. But they are not. They offer proof of perseverance, evidence of transformation. People who had enough time.

Here's to living a life filled with recognizing it is the the ketchup incidents that make a life worthy. And to remembering we do, in fact, have enough time.

CELEBRATE This Week XVII

<div align="center">
<a href="http://www.ruthayreswrites.com" title="Discover. Play. Build."><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNhnwqk0roDgr9irdkjZGU8_snh6_pAoHaQIleMhUxlmHafXaG2osQMxA3kG4SwnuvH8FkTC1QBWv3-yKVG6hyphenhyphen6m2tVReLGMTKtDfE88XuUsprfWmAhyphenhyphen3hv2ChyOYeQwpRUr5YhZEZnGg/s200/celebrate-image.jpg" alt="Discover. Play. Build." style="border:none;" /></a></div>

I'm glad you are here to celebrate! For more information, check out the CELEBRATE This Week page. Please use #celebratelu to share.

One.
I'm glad to understand a little more about my current writing life as I reflected on the word WRITE in this post.

Two.

{Click the link below in order to get a quality print.}

 With the snow day last week, I learned how to create chalkboard art. I've been trying to think of a way to give a gift to our community. Here it is! Simply click this link in order to get an 8x10 image. Print it and hang it (either framed or unframed) in a place you could use a reminder of the power of celebration.

Enjoy!

Serve.

Today I learned in one of his speeches Martin Luther KingJr. quoted scripture from Matthew 10 and then said:

Everybody can be great, because everybody can serve. You don’t have to have a college degree to serve. You don’t have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve. You don’t have to know about Plato and Aristotle to serve…You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated by love.

I'm learning to serve. I want to stop walking by needs. I want to stop feeling a little sad because of someone's situation and then to keep on going with my day, my plan. I want my daily plans to be anchored to serving and not to getting-it-done.

 But we live in a world of getting-it-done.Frankly, I'm quite efficient with my day.

I don't want efficiency.
I want meaning.

So I'm learning to see where I can serve. I'm learning to listen more. I'm learning when I do less I reach more significant needs. I'm able to touch lives in meaningful ways. It seems counterproductive.

It's not though, rather it's the way of Love. When I can push past my task list and be motivated by love, I have a new strength in my heart that is powerful.

This is what propels me to serve.

favorite bits

I'm all ready for The Literacy Connection next week in Dublin, Ohio. I can hardly wait to see  some favorite friends + meet some new friends. Are you going to be there? If so, please make sure to say hello. I also have to admit that I'm super excited about the visuals for this workshop. I pushed myself to depend on a little text + a lot of image to share my ideas.

Plus I picked up this new "chalky" font, ERASER. Dafont dot com is my all-time favorite font website. Just consider yourself warned: It is a dangerous. You may soon have hundreds of fonts on your computer.

Christy Rush-Levine wrote a post a few weeks ago called "Four Words." It's about encouraging and accepting young adolescents when they write unapologetically. This is a must read for all writing teachers. I hope you don't miss it.

Mary Helen Gensch has a new addition to her family. Mary Helen expected to be the one caring for and changing the life of a foster pup, but instead Harley is teaching her important truths of life. I can't wait for her to write more about this cute little pup.

I bought a few Love Calcutta Arts journals this week for gifts. I like it when my shopping makes a difference in the world. Love Calcutta Arts is dedicated to helping young girls in the red light district of Calcutta, India develop a skill in order to gain economic freedom.

Every single time I stop by Holley Gerth's blog, I feel like I'm spoiled with a special treat. This post is no exception. It's about getting out of your own way in order to love people more. I'm committed to worrying less about what people think and more about how to love more. This post resonates with where I am right now.

And don't forget -- the Carnivores giveaway ends Sunday at 8 pm.

Little Matters

It's the little things that matter. I'm realizing this is true when it comes to being an instructional coach. It is through small acts that great strides are made.

In the past week, I think these have been some of my most significant acts as an instructional coach:

1. Bringing a cup of coffee to a teacher who was having a rough morning.
2. Reading a book in a classroom I've never been invited into before today. (It's been a decade since I've started this position.) 
3. Listening to someone tell a story about a daughter and a dog.
4. Leaving a note and a book in a mailbox.
5. Sharing a link to a blog post.
6. Giving a hug.
7. Gathering a basket of books to launch a unit of study.
8. Sharing a Pinterest image.
9. Giving a writing notebook.
10. Drafting a survey for a principal.

For me it is easy to think these things aren't important. But they are. Little matters are not a little matter. I'm striving for small in order to make a big impact.

finding space in my writing life

I wanted a perfect ending. Now, I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity.

Gilda Radner

I first latched on to this quote in February 2008. At the time I added it to a post called "A Hiatus" on my first blog, Inspiring Readers and Writers. The post was titled "A Hiatus" because I just couldn't write: The End. I supposed I should note I never wrote another post on Inspiring Readers and Writers again. (I also made it a private because I was getting some spam-comments and it's never fun to read creepy words under your toddler's adorable photo. Still, from time to time you'll find Vintage Ayres posts.)

In the hiatus post I wrote:

And I'm learning that endings are okay. They open doors to other places in our lives.

In 2010, Stacey and I added the Radner quote to the "Closing Thoughts" in Day by Day. It's a tribute to the way we develop our craft of teaching -- taking the moments, making the best of them, never quite knowing what's going to happen next.

Right now these words are speaking to me -- Delicious Ambiguity -- as I consider following certain paths in my writing journey.  It's been stirring inside of me. This post, back in January, was the point where I began being bold in my collections, bold in documenting my story of faith and family and radical, crazy living.

And yet I still find myself afraid to take the leap. It's because I don't want to close the door on all of the writing I already do. I don't want to let go of the professional words I weave. However, until I do, I won't have time to write the story I need to write.

If I'm not writing the story my soul knows, then I'm always going to be looking back over my shoulder and wondering what my words should have made. It's time I make space to write the story that is knocking around inside of me. 

I think this story is worthy of finding words on the page. 

words to start the week

Those who are living get scarred. Scars are proof of overcoming. Scars are signs of vitality. Scars are evidence of strength. This isn't such a bad thing.

words to start the week

favorite bits

I didn't officially join Teachers Write this summer. Still, I'm a junkie for teachers writing and love the inspiration, encouragement, and fun-stuff in this community. Here's a link to see what's happening in the Teachers Write community. While you're there, click around and leave some comment-love to those who are participating.

nErDCamp Round-Up by Katherine Sokolowski. It's tough to pick and choose what to attend and what to miss. It's even tougher when people share their learning and you realized how much you missed. Thankfully people are generous! Grab a a drink and be ready to clicky-click around the internet for some incredible inspiration!

This came in the mail late last week. A 20 quart stock pot. I'm more excited than I should be about it. Wednesday, the girls and I made a batch of spaghetti sauce in it. Thursday we used it for a triple batch of salsa. Yum. (It's worth the work of canning it!)

These words from William Wordsworth:

Rest and be thankful.

I've done a little tidying up around here. Check out the tabs under the header. Some are new and many are cleaned up and changed. For a list of blogs I read regularly, click on Writing Love.

words to start the week