Money Matters…

But Not Necessarily In The Way You Think It Does.

No spiritual ADHA today, so onward and forward with my summary of Charles Eisenstein’s book Sacred Economics–accompanied by personal commentary and examples, of course. The central question the author poses is, Why is money not usually treated as something “sacred,” and how can we change that?

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Spiritual ADHD

Forget Fairies…

because my attention has been diverted to money. I’ve always been interested in money, but probably not in the way many people are. A few years ago I spent some time sorting through my issues around money, such as how I had unthinkingly adopted some of my parents’ perspectives about the commodity. One of those perspectives was that there was always enough for the necessities, but the luxuries were scarce. For example, unless I outgrew them, buying more than one pair of shoes in a school year was a luxury. One fall I made a huge mistake when I selected my pair from the store, and I had to live for an entire miserable year with shoes I hated. Another time, I made excuses of why I could only go on four rides at the county fair, excuses such as, they made me sick, or amusement park rides are just a dumb way to spend one’s time. The truth was that I was embarrassed that my parents had only given me one dollar to spend, whereas all my friends had three or four.

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Fairies Are My Future…

And My Present!

“Present” meaning both right now and a gift. Right now I am in the throes of fairy fascination as a result of the fairy adventures described in my last post: I have plans for building my own fairy house and garden, I have been reading books about them. I’m also mindful of Shakespeare’s play: A Midsummer Night’s Dream which is about fairies and how their lives intersect with those of humans: so how mysteriously awesome it is that I have written a play entitled A Midsummer Nights’ Spell?!! (Read a synopsis: http://jkwintersauthor.com/writing-samples/plays/midsummer-nights-spell-a-play-on-words/.) To have something be mysteriously awesome is just one of the gifts I am receiving right now.

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Fairies Are Fun…

And So Are Magic Men!

This play thing is getting out of hand in terms of how it is taking over my writing site. I love it when that happens! In that context, here’s the fourth in an unplanned series on play:

This past Friday we had another OTE (Over-the-Edge) play group to build fairy houses in a local park. When we plan something, whether it be making Easter bonnets or fairy houses, we are always open to something else happening as well. Last time, as you may recall, coffee house patrons Stacy and David made quite a fuss over our tutus and Easter head gear. This time we did build a fairy house, which was totally fun, but then we got distracted by other things, such as a large piece of gauze brought by one of our members, which we used as an opportunity for dress-up. We posed our model in front of a  tree that looked quite as magical as she did, then took her picture, which, under the circumstances of building fairy houses, should be captioned “Fairy Godmother.”

Fairy Godmother

Once we start playing, creativity flows, so in short notice someone commented that we need to take more pictures at our events. “But not always of our faces!” another commented excitedly. “Let’s do a butt pose!” was a proposal that soon followed.

We looked around for someone to take the picture so we could all be in it, but there was no one in sight. Then, suddenly, a man  in a white shirt and dress pants appeared. Perhaps he came from the restrooms a little off to our right, but in retrospect, it was if he just materialized into our line of vision. As he walked toward us we chorused, “Will you take a picture of our butts?”

We were laughing hysterically, but he smiled calmly at us and said, “Of course!”

Cute butts

After we thanked him, he strolled away. It was only after he was gone that we realized he was walking in the opposite direction of the parking lot or any other place a man dressed as he was would be heading. And then he seemed to vanish into thin air.

Fairies, magic men, the likes of David and Stacy…: play and they will come. I love it when that happens!

Hats On To You!

(As Opposed to “Hats Off,” Of Course!)

One of my friends likes to say that I wear many hats. Actually that is literally as well as metaphorically true. Case in point: a couple of weeks ago my Over-The-Edge (OTE for short) play group met at a local coffee house to make Easter bonnets, or for some of us, Easter head gear, which we then donned and went out on the coffee shop patio to have an adventure. We also wore the tutus we had made at an earlier OTE gathering, so you know we were totally CUTE!

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Play for Peace

It’s A Real Come-To-Jesus-And-Nelson Mandela Moment!

Three posts ago in “Ghost Writer,” I reported how my mother came back three times after her death to tell me she “wished she could have been there more” for me. To continue that story, after Mom’s third visit, I decided it was time to stop blaming and start forgiving. And actually I realized had a powerful resource just waiting for me on my closet shelf: the Satori game, developed by a couple of my friends, Debbie Unterman and DeAnna Hohnhurst. They are also the creators of an earlier game called Clarity. The story about how Satori came to be goes something like this: when Colin Tipping, author of the 1997 book Radical Forgiveness, played Clarity, he was so impressed that he asked the women to design Satori, The Radical Forgiveness Game, for him.

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Gratitude Envy

This Is Very Futuristic!

Last week I had furnace problems, so I called the guy who has been fixing my furnace for several years now. Originally from Bosnia, he came to this country in the ’90s during the break-up of Yugoslavia, which brought on the civil war between the Bosnian Serbs and Croats. That war is often judged to be the most devastating conflict in Europe since World War II because of the horrific war crimes and ethnic cleansing. During that time 100,000 people died and between 20,000 and 50,000 women were raped.

Sanel arrived in the United States with $50 in his pocket and no knowledge of English. He now speaks our language fluently (with a slight, but charming, accent), is happily married, has a young son, and owns his own business with four employees. The way I found Sanel was through his instructor who recommended him as the best HVAC student he has ever supervised. I can vouch for that! But more important is that Sanel radiates gratitude for all that he has. Every time I see him he tells me with the same amount of fervor, “America is the best country in the world!” This time he made sure I understood that he not only expresses his gratitude daily, but that he makes conscious choices on how to give back. For example, every two years he buys a new car to support the economy. He also patronizes local small businesses over large chains.

Household management is one of my least favorite tasks, and yet I continue to meet some of the most amazing, hard-working, loving people when I find myself in this role. Quirky and interesting, too, with personal stories that constantly inspire. At first glance this appears ironic–hating the task and then always finding it enlightening, you know–but then I had another thought: perhaps it’s teleological in that, like writing, it is pulling in my future.

In the novel that I wrote and am still trying to get published, called ‘The Potluck,’ my character Phil Ossifer, who, ironically (smirk), is a doctor of philosophy, informs Renee about teleology:

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Is “Juicy” The Key?

Wow! I Think He Photoshopped The Future!

So all along I’ve been writing about writing, right? But because of something that happened last week, I’ve expanded my perspective on how to create the future. Yes, that is the correct term: create. Writing the future is too limited when we are talking about universal guidelines for future-making. (Just in case we are talking about universal guidelines, blanket rules, you know.)

This is the background information to my aha: an acquaintance, well, actually a relative, no wait, he’s just an in-law (private joke in case he reads this)! Anyway, this person whom I will designate as “M,” is a photographer… and a writer, but that is not really relevant in this instance… He also likes celebrities a lot. So what he did for his daughter’s wedding reception a couple of years ago was to photoshop all kinds of famous people posing with the newly-weds. For example, when I went into the ladies’ room, on the inside of the stall door there they were hanging out with William and Kate. In another place they were with Jay Leno.

Now here’s where it gets interesting. M recently got free tickets to a Jay Leno event, to which he took his wife, his daughter and her husband. At that event last week, Jay picked out M’s daughter and son-in-law from the audience and began talking with them about their jobs. The end. I know! You probably expected more, like they had their picture taken with him or they happened to have the wedding photo he was in, and he autographed it, blah, blah, blah.

Which brings up an interesting question: if we are really creating our futures when we engage in some kind of artistic fiction, why does that future not appear in reality exactly the way we created it?

I have some theories. Feel free to reject them, tweak them…or best of all, start a discussion here or on my FB page about your perspectives. My view is that in order to create our future, we have to use the expressive medium that we enjoy the most. For me that would be writing and for M it is often photography. Then, the more fun we have creating and the more time we spend doing it, and the deeper the desire we have for it to manifest, the more likely it is that parts of it will eventually make their appearance in consensus reality. In other words, it has to have juice! The very act of creating involves engagement, delight, desire and surprise. Surprise because when we lose ourselves in the creative act, it often takes a shape we are not expecting. I know this happened over and over again as I was writing my novel The Potluck.

But then, maybe none of the above is the truth, and the little reality blips we get from our artistic endeavors are only random coincidences. Or, possibly they are, as a friend of mine likes to say, “just for our entertainment,” since life itself is a fun ride on the amusement park of planet Earth. I like that concept, actually. It keeps me from being too serious about a game that will eventually end anyway.

JK

Ghost Writer

OMG! I Was Writing My Future And Didn’t Even Notice!

FORMAT ALERT! Before I tell you about the ghost, let me say I’m not including numbers on the posts anymore because the subject matter changes here, right now, from 40 posts about my novel ‘The Potluck’ to posts that are about “writing…my future” in a more generic sense.

O.K. here’s the ghost story that came true: In 2006 I wrote a one-act play entitled ‘Midsummer Nights’ Spell: A Play on Words.’ It featured a story “based on actual events,” as they like to say in the movie business, which means some of it really happened and some of it is made up. Indeed, the play was a fictionalized account of my son’s wedding in July, 2006, and all the crazy stuff that happened that midsummer weekend from them missing their honeymoon flight to me having a house full of relatives airing their disagreements with each other, most of this occurring while they (the relatives) played the board game Upwords. My mother was central to the plot as she was a champion of word games both on the board and off. When I wrote what is now Act 1, it was, of course, about something that had already happened in the past.

After my mother died in 2010, I wrote Act 2, based on a real-life repeat of the relationship dramas in Act 1. However, this time the departure I made from fact was to have my mother present at the funeral preparations in the guise of a ghost. Bottom line of Act 2 is that Mom floats in mainly to make observations about how she could have done better at loving us all–me especially, obviously, since this is my story.

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#40 I Lied!

Anyway, Number 40 Feels More Complete than 39

In my last post I told you that at the end of December this blog would magically morph into my writer’s website. Actually, I should have known better than to make a dogmatic statement like that, but apparently I didn’t know any better, so here I am offering Post #40 as a partial explanation of why the new website is not here.

I say “partial explanation” because I am in the space between personal mythologies, otherwise described as still very confused about my direction. My old myth was that I was a writer scorned, and I thought my new one was going to be writer confident. Instead, for the moment I am being just being confidant (ALERT: there is a difference in meaning between “confident” and “confidant”), with the writer part very shaky.

Briefly, like Renee in my story, I was recently invited to attend a “potluck” of spiritual adventurers: nine powerful women with outrageous dreams about how to change the world. Since then, I have seen a vast new world of possibilities opening up, and like the writer Parvati in Paul Theroux’s novel ‘A Dead Hand,’ I am feeling that “I would rather live more and write less.” At least for the moment.

So, bottom line, I do not know exactly how this is going to unfold, but I will keep you updated in this blog. No notifications of new posts will be sent to former subscribers; however, an easy way to stay in touch is through FB: http://on.fb.me/13j389S or by registering as a follower on this blog.

Isn’t it funny? I have written/am writing my future, which was the original title of my blog before I changed it to “Writing…My Future.” ( Which could also be an apt description if I just add a question mark.)

JK