Simply Move

Hanging on the wall in my office, there is a picture of a tree that changes color and definition to reflect the four seasons. As you walk by the angle of the print causes the tree to shift from a winter scene of bare branches and snow, through sprouting spring foliage, the full greening of summer and then the autumn leaves of fall. From my desk seat, it always looks like autumn.

I like seeing the different images of the picture. The variety, changing colors and images offers a nice change from what is often the static unchanging art of an office space. There are times when I will just move to a different place in my office to see and enjoy the picture differently. It isn't that I don’t like seeing the fall tree, I do. I like seeing the other images, too.

Here’s my thought: My living is often the same way. It is easy to settle into the same routine, the same patterns of moving through life and soon – everything seems to look stagnant. In the same way I have to get up and move to a different place in my office to see the variety of the tree picture, I can move to a different place in my living to see life with new colors.

From a simple move, like visiting a different coffee shop, to a more dramatic change, like ending or starting a new relationship, we can experience the very different seasons of our living. I’m not advocating change for change sake, but I am encouraging myself to remember that sometimes I need t move a little and change my perspective in order to appreciate the rich variety of life.

I sat in a meeting yesterday with a successful local entrepreneur – a very rich man. He was clearly tired, almost exhausted throughout the meeting. After we had finished our business discussions, the conversation shifted as he explained his fatigue. He had spent the previous evening volunteering at a local homeless shelter. As he begin to tell the tale of his time helping others that night his energy lifted, his spirit soared and the conversation moved me to a different place. The business of life glowed more brightly than the drab hues of the previous conversation about his business.

Get up. Move. See. Enjoy.

12 Words Stolen by The Internet

This week another innocent word was commandeered and made to serve a new master and a new meaning. The vocabulary of our world is being stolen and redefined. Words are re-purposed right before our eyes!

Google announced the launch of a new Social Tool and it is named “Buzz,” Google Buzz to be more precise. The Internet is now buzzing (the way the word use to be used) about Buzz. This re-purposing of innocent words isn't new. Here are some others…

Tweet – use to be a sound a bird made.

CD – once referred to a bank note, Certificate of Deposit

Web – was once something a spider wove

Net – was a web of rope used to catch fish

Wave – use to refer to something you rode with a surf board, then a thing the spectators did at games, and now is something that belongs to Google – in beta.

Flicker – was the way a flame moved

Picasso – was a painter you studied in art class

Mouse – was a small rodent

Windows – were part of a house

Friend – was someone you liked and spent actual time with from school, work, the house next door

Caffeine - formally linked to beverages is now another - you guessed it - Google Product

What is a writer to do? What’s next - Microsoft ‘Prose’ or Google ‘Poetry?’

Red House Talking - A Poem

During a visit to Levering Orchard, I spoke with one of the owners about his childhood memories of home, a house that now stands empty and in disrepair, yet a dominate fixture overlooking the orchard. It seemed to speak to me.

Red House Talking

heat scared twisted tin

metal remains of the shelter of generations

once marking the boundary between security

sky and seasons' harsh torments of ice and wind

once shielding mother and child and keeping

home hearth's warmth within

sentinel timbers stand charred

remnants of hard taught lessons

essential knowings of words and deed

those shadows of learning that walk with us

stand undaunted, proclaiming our way

through life's course

holding us to right of way

pane-less windows black and lost

tell of eyes peering outward

watching for familiar faces

tracing memories in winter's vapor

smudged glass and

of curtains drawn tightly muffling

the magic giggles of life long love and randy youth

now the boundaries of roof and wall

yield openly, freeing lives long bound here

as prolific gaps

grasp not even nature's breeze

releasing it to dance delightfully

resting on my mind and dream

before wafting on

leaving a whisper of

a voice talking with

a red accent

Writing the Right Word

Do you ever find yourself stuck, fingers poised upon the keys and yet – nothing. There is a thought, the beginning of a phrase hanging on the very edge of your mind and then – nothing. You know there is a genesis word needed, or at least some word that will begin the avalanche of prose that is pressing so dutifully upon your mind, straining to flow through you and onto the page and into the world, a message of fine worth and clear depth – waiting for that beginning, that right word to give the process the smallest nudge into existence.

Well, that is where I am tonight and that word eludes me…

5 Things Only Facebook Can Do

1. Reconnect me with 6 classmates from High school, 25 years after the school closed.

2. Allow me to peep in on my children’s lives to get a clue how they are really doing (NOTE: never actually engage them over Facebook – not a good idea.)

3. Stay connected with friends and business colleagues on a daily basis. Oh the joy of status updates!

4. Make it easy for my Mother to ‘see’ her children, grandchildren, great grand children and yes great-great grandchild moving through life – and all of us each other and her!

5. Encourage all of the above to have a little fun each day with status update games, apps, photo tagging and more.

Thank you Facebook!

On Visiting Blue Hole - Bermuda

A did a piece of writing after hiking an area in Bermuda called the "Blue Hole."

The Blue Hole has an interesting history and contains some amazing submerged caves and private pools. One of the very few unsolved murders in recent Bermuda history occurred there, and it is the location of the oldest rock type on the island.

THE BLUE HOLE'S HOLD

Your now seldom trodden paths fall under new feet, withstanding each impact of soul and sole, bearing up upon unyielding and ancient rock the weight of another exploration, an adventuring spirit, another of the millions of creatures that you have felt wander across your very spine, and with thoughtless query your impatient question of 800,000 years rises again...

Will this be the one? Or will this be only another impertinent and transient creature that errantly uses the earthy mystery of this space for gathering dirt and stone, or ripping foliage aside for consumption, or splattering in fury, another's blood upon you hoping you will shroud its evil form detection? Or will this one impede the conquest and domination long enough to pause momentarily, stand still enough - long enough to allow your archaic message to creep from the core of this vain of our origination and stir as deeply within them as it resides within you, the tendril of impervious and undaunted myth that is your message?

5 Signs Twitter Has Destroyed Your Writing

1. You use the shortest words possible – distilling your vocabulary to sprite-like verbiage (a phrase you would never us on twitter)

2. Compound sentence structure disappears; therefore there are no flowing poetic descriptions.

3. Characters begin talking in short less than 140 character, abbreviated, direct thoughts.

4. When discussing back story, sentences begin with RT @Character’sname and a quote from earlier in the text.

5. You spend time pondering how tweet shrink and url shorteners can be applied to the editing process.

Or, you find yourself writing a short, 5 part post in the affects of Twitter on Writing.

You Change Your Attitude Now

“The greatest discovery of any generation is that a human being can alter his life by altering his attitude.” –Williams James

I spent 8 years in higher education, 15 years beyond that as a pastor for a mainline denomination, and studied human psychology, pastor counseling and theology. It took a man with no more than a high school education and a background in construction to teach me something real about people, about me.

I was having a bad day and it wasn’t even 10:00 am. I’d had an argument with my wife. My children were not behaving the way I wanted them to, and my work schedule for the day was so packed that I knew I wouldn’t be able to get all of it done. My brain hurt, my back hurt and I pretty much hated everything and everybody at that moment.

My boss at the time took note of my very bad attitude and asked me to come into his office. I did. He listened to my story and then paused before saying, “You have two choices this morning. You can stay pissed and have a sorry day, or you can do something about your attitude.” He reached in the desk drawer and handed me a card* that resembled one of those “do not disturb” door hangers. On the front and back were a series of saying, positive affirmations. He told me to take it and if I wanted to change my attitude to read the sayings out loud on the way to my first appointment for that day. My attitude wasn’t very receptive. I thought of all the psychological cliques that I knew. I thought about how what I was going through was much bigger than a few clever and witty sayings. I thought of a hundred reasons why his suggestion was, at best, inadequate. I didn’t challenge him. I took the card and headed for the truck. As I walked out of his office he said one more thing, “I bet you’re too chicken to try it.”

I smiled and for some reason warmed up to the idea of proving him wrong. On the way to my first appointment, I read them out loud:

“I will win. Why? I’ll tell you why – because I have faith courage and enthusiasm.”

“Today I will meet the right people in the right place at the right time for the betterment of all.”

“I see opportunity in every challenge.”

“When I fail, I only look at what I did right.”

“I’ll never take advice from someone more messed up than I am.”

The readings continued, and so did the change in my attitude. There is great power in the words we speak to ourselves, and by the time I was done – I did feel better and begin to think on the things I could do to be effective and successful that day. I had once of the most productive days ever. I have never forgotten that lesson.

*The card is produced by Tom Hopkins International and can be found here: Shower Card

Technorati Blog Claim and Listing

So, for your information, it took the folks over at Technorati from November 11^th until January 16^th to approve and list my blog. I’m just saying…

Kim's Korner: A Place for Words

http://www.kimewilliams.com/blog
Jan 16, 2010. Congratulations, you claim is now complete! Your site should appear in Technorati.com search results within 24 to 48 hours.

I'm Thinking Tropical

In the tropics, the air whispers tales of the end of the journey and the beginnings of breathing. The horizons appear endless, barely even the fine line dividing planet and heavens can be seen, and that as only the obligatory nod to the proclaimed laws of physics. Seas pool in transparent marine, crystal refractors of laughter and indulgence. If the breeze blows, it is the compilation of every faded caress, every long lost lover, as the humidity clings, mocking her absent touch.

In the heat of these places, a man’s metal is tested, not by the level of his strength or the length of his endurance, but rather by the depth of his passion. For the blasting sun will lay siege to all muscle and cause even the fittest flesh to run dry. Left only with emptiness where fictitious power did reside, the soul of the man of the tropics must find relief and value elsewhere. In time, in his weathered smile - carved with canyon lines of today’s joy - can be seen the scars of victorious battles with self and the final surrender to all that surrounds and captures him. The paradox of surrender and freedom combine on the shore as waves meet sand.

There, where the deep is found in one man’s being or lost in the darkest of sea resides my destination.