Distractions

I really should be writing
a poem right now,
but I’m too enthralled
by a virtual soap
opera on Facebook, and my
phone is beep-tweeting
by the milli-sec, second from
someone I don’t even know, but
who is carrying on a conversation
I happened to be @ed in.
Not to mention the raccoon
that tried to get into my
home last night, but that’s
what my poem’s going to be
about, so stay tuned.

@laurie kolp

Unpeeling the invisible tape

I'm not one privy to conflict which is why, if one should occur, I usually sit back and watch. Sometimes I have to dig my hands underneath my legs or tape my mouth shut (because if I open it I usually stick my foot inside). Other times I feel compelled to voice my opinion, but do so with reluctance.

You see, I've lived most of my life caught up in this ridiculous fear of worrying what you might think. I'll turn the words I said, or wrote, over and over in my head as I play out each possible reaction. But I'm working on that.

Writing has helped tremendously. I have a voice to be heard with words to be understood when I write. I've gained courage to step out a little further, let my toes sink beneath the surface. And it feels good. 

This past weekend I watched/read in astonishment as words were slaughtered on the pages of a Facebook group I'm part of. Tempers ignited. Justifications and excuses flared. Others stepped into the tempest and expressed their feelings.

I was over here with the invisible tape and hand restraints.

Until today. I finally had had enough and decided to give my opinion. I did so without regret. I will not make lame excuses (such as a misfiring iPad). I will own up to my words.

And I will keep checking Facebook to see if anyone hit the 'Like' button.

Oh, well. That, my friends, is growth.

Soap opera email

A few minutes ago I was reading through my emails, many of which were follow-up comments from Facebook.   It went something like this:

First click- I read "Congratulations," and "Way to go," for a friend who just received a contract on a book.

Next click- Words of encouragement like "Hang in there," and "You're in my prayers," were sprawled across the screen for a friend facing a medical crisis. 

It didn't take long for me to recognize that a melodramatic pattern was forming.   Back and forth the clicks went from one extreme to another, like a yoyo vacillating between happiness and misfortune.

Click- "I am so happy for you. I want a book,"  ~YEAH!

Click- "I think this might be serious. Have you considered seeing a neurologist?" ON, NO!
These emails churned my emotions and left me feeling like a hormonal teenager; high on life, then sinking in mud- just with a simple click.  There were no other emails except for these; and I kid you not, they alternated back and forth for six to eight messages.  All this bizzare banter really made me feel... powerless. 

I found myself asking questions.

What is the reason for this?  I thought maybe God was trying to tell me a should become a soap opera writer or something. 

How does this relate to me?  It reminded me that I am not in control of people, situations, writing submissions, the man who cut me off, etc.  The only thing I can do is offer support, pray, and then sit back and wait for God's handiwork.  People everywhere are suffering while others are rejoicing.  It's the cycle of life, and it draws us closer to one another... and God.

I have so much to be grateful for today.  Right now.  At this very minute.

Whew- I am exhausted; I think I'll go to bed now (I have a lot of praying to do).