Tag Archives: writing my future

Living My Future

I’m Finished With All Things Contrived or Artificial…

from classes to workshops to writing my future.  Maybe even writing itself, because…

something so very interesting has happened since I wrote my last post on 9/11. My site blew up! That’s right, I got hit big time in the ivory tower of writing my future. It happened when I tried to make a correction shortly after publishing the post; there was a blink, a flash of light and then that page appeared that says the site is timed out. Timed out. Quite the interesting term. My webmaster tried everything he could think of to restore timed in, but when nothing worked he told me to check with my service provider. There I was sent first to Level 1, then to Level 2 and finally to Level 3 help, all to no avail. Meanwhile, other people could visit the site, and so could I if I left my house and used a computer elsewhere, or if I used my phone with Wi-Fi turned off when I was in my house. That’s when I had the brilliant idea to make that correction off-site, so to speak, cause, you know, maybe there was an evil spirit  in my house, or possibily in my wireless. But bam! I got timed out again and couldn’t get back in.

What the…..!!! Was something or someone out there trying to tell me to STOP! with the writing my future?!!!  After I had calmed down and given that possibility some thought, I decided I was willing to do that. Interestingly enough that’s when my webmaster contacted me to let me know the problem was fixed. By that time, however,I had already been experiencing living my future big time. Bigger than anything I could ever have imagined or even written into being. Sorry I can’t tell you the details because of the contrived and artificial thing I’m not going to do anymore; however, I will share a poem that wrote itself in my consciousness during my time out:

NOTICING

The content of their talking Is all about what is wrong,

And I notice the urgency they feel to change the world.

They are full of rage toward those who abuse the earth,

And I notice they do not know forgiveness can transform.

The sound of my voice startles,

And I notice how they stop to listen.

Everything coalesces around me and then moves out with fluidity.

And I notice I need to do nothing but be.

On that note I will end by affirming that if you ever need me for anything, you will find me. The same goes for me finding you. And if our paths never cross again, no matter, because there is only one way we can save the world anyway:

…live the questions themselves like locked rooms or books that are written in a foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers; they cannot be given to you now because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. (emphasis mine). Live the questions now. You will then, gradually, without even noticing it perhaps, live along some day into the answer.  Rainer Maria Rilke

May your journey be joyful  J.K.

i

Is Making Money A Talent?

I Don’t Know, But If I Write About It, Maybe I Will Find Out!

The Prosperity Gospel preaches that God wants us to be rich. Those on the other side of the spirituality and money issue, however, are quick to  point out that Jesus, who, as far as we know, carried no cash, checks or credit cards–said, “Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth…” and “Consider the lilies of the field. They toil not, neither do they spin, yet your heavenly Father takes care of them…” And. oh yeah, let’s not forget his pronouncement that it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.

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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

 

#39 Peace

Just Because I’m Quitting Doesn’t Mean I’m Finished

Last February I began this blog as an out-of-the-box way to put my book, The Potluck, out into the world. It was a worthy experiment, and once I got a handle on the technology, I had fun doing it. I also learned a couple of things, among them that it is hard to blog a novel because of its nature: to make sense of a work of fiction the reader has to start at the beginning. A blog has a different nature: a reader can read the most recent post and it will make sense all by itself. Hopefully it will also stimulate back-reading as well as future loyalty. (As my mentor keeps telling me, the Internet is not linear!)

Another thing I discovered is that when you write something, some of it does come true, which, as you may recall, was the point of the “writing my future” experiment I described in Post #1. Now, as I watch some unexpected adventures line up in my life, I am reminded of the story Renee tells, at Joe’s request, to some urban gang members in Chapter 6 and wonder if I mainly wrote the book to jump-start my own future:

“A man with a golden tattoo is making his way slowly down the mountain into the village below. He has spent his life on the mountain studying the art of war, developing his skills, and this is his first visit to the village. The village is very poor. The people don’t have enough food and that sometimes causes them to fight with each other. Their huts are small and dirty. There are no schools, so the children run ragged in the streets.

“The man from the mountain is tall and strong. His head is shaved, he sports a goatee and the image of a swastika gleams on his right arm.”

“What is a swastika?” The question came from the girl in the yellow skirt.

“White supremacy!” (their leader) Raphael sneered as he pulled a can of black paint from a bag he carried over his shoulder. He sprayed a viable replica of the symbol onto the sidewalk.

Renee’s response was calm, “The swastika is an ancient symbol of peace.”

“Why would a warrior want peace?” The young man who asked looked incredulous.

Renee was so into her story she did not hear his question. “The man with the golden tattoo has learned his art well. His sword gleams in the sunlight. His stance is bold. He swings the weapon as he dances in the shimmer of its blade. There is music in his method and joy in his heart. He is full of untested power. He has come to bring justice to the village. To right the wrongs. To bring peace.”

Joe picked up his knapsack, slipped his arms through the loops and settled it comfortably on his back. “Thanks so much, Renee.”

Annoyed, Raphael demanded. “So then what happens? Swords bring war, not peace.”

Joe beckoned Renee to join him as he strolled away. “What happens is for you to decide. We will return later and you will tell us the ending,” he called back to them.

One of the other young men shouted, “But it’s her story. She came here and started telling us, so she needs to let us know what happens.”

Joe was implacable. “No, it is your story. She only came to remind you.”

And this is where I end this blog because I need to pay attention to my inner knowing that it was a stepping stone to the next thing. At the end of December, 2013, this site will change into my author website while the blog evaporates forever into cyberspace. I hope you will check out the website and also my Facebook page where you can stay abreast of my adventures–writing or otherwise–as they are unfolding. And of course you can always reach me by e-mail: jk@jkwintersauthor.com

#35 First Love

“The Horse Knows The Way”

I haven’t mentioned the writing my future group lately. Actually it was retired some time back after I finished writing The Potluck and began focusing my attention on this blog. Most of the members weren’t writing anyway, and I no longer felt the need to read to them as they can now read for themselves right here. Which they are doing. They are a loyal group and I appreciate everything they are doing to support me.

Meanwhile, the title of my blog has taken on a new meaning. Originally it was “Writing My Future,” subtitled “How I Wrote My Book.” Like this suggests, I am–consciously and unconsciously–writing my future through Renee. But what is also happening is that I am writing again, which was always my first love in terms of vocation. I abandoned that love many years ago because I believed the fiction police (writing teachers, editors, publishers…) when they told me I was unworthy. Now the love of my life has come back to me with the gift of The Potluck. So I have changed the title of my blog to “Writing…My Future.” It’s pure genie–ous, my three wishes are being granted all at once: a spiritual adventure, magical grandchildren and a future of writing. Excitement!

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#29 Whimsy Is Good

So Maybe I Don’t Agree With Dr. Jung After All

One day recently, while a member of our “Writing My Future” group and I were having a  philosophical discussion about the nature of the universe, she suddenly made the announcement that although she believed in active good, which she called God, she did not believe in active evil. Evil, she proclaimed, is not a condition unique unto itself, but rather a lack of goodness.

How dare she, a person I had longed deemed exceptionally intelligent, say something so…so…wrong!  After a brief moment of collecting some thoughts, I responded, eloquently I hope, about how psychiatrist Carl Jung viewed the world of wholeness wrapped up in packages of opposites: love-hate, yin-yang, above-below…

“Active good without its opposite of active evil is…” I struggled to find the right word… “whimsical!” 

The word caught me by surprise. Renee’s world was whimsical: Monty showing up  40 years after she first met him and taking her to Serena’s parlor with the crystal ball and then on to that wonderful potluck of Alice characters was whimsical. Whimsy is fun!

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#26 Coincidence?

Maybe, But I Prefer Another Explanation

In my last post I off-handedly observed I was a worldview experimenter, my main–and only–experiment being the one about writing my future. What I have observed so far in this experiment is that the results have not been even remotely predictable. When I started, I thought that either my writing would come true in my life or it would not. But what is happening is that pieces of it are showing up, but not always in my life and not always exactly as I have written them. What does this tell me about the nature of the universe? While I ponder this, let me share the next excerpt from ‘The Potluck.’ We left Abel and Renee doctoring the salad:

They were having such fun that at first they didn’t notice the room had turned quiet. At last Renee looked up to see that all eyes were on them. “What?!!” Her tone was one of reactive embarrassment.

Ima was the first to speak. “Joe and Abel and now Renee, too, are right and the rest of us are wrong.”

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#25 No Fair!

Anyone Else Having Renee’s Adventure?

Each person in my “Writing My Future” group is supposed to be writing her own, personal, individual future, right? Well get this! One member has just reported to me that my adventure has somehow ended up in her life! Did the messenger god accidentally–or deliberately–deliver the envelope to the wrong address, I wonder?

Before I share further details of this very strange occurrence, you need to know that my writing group is further along in Renee’s story than you are. For example, I recently read them a chapter about how Gilda has a horse ministry for girls.

So, OK, my writing colleague learns about Gilda and the horses, and a couple of days later she receives a message from an old high school friend who announces she is teaching young girls about horses. But wait! That’s not all. From Chapter 4 you are already aware that that Abel is a bee keeper, but this same writing cohort has also been exposed to three additional chapters about Renee’s visit to Abel’s home and hives. Shortly after that exposure, an e-mail comes into her in-box from a local bee man offering her some of his wild-gathered honey.

No way! Well, apparently way. So now I’m wondering whether this is an example of Higher Intelligence’s wacky sense of humor–playing a prank on a worldview experimenter such as myself. Or is this Higher Intelligence not quite so intelligent as people say? Or maybe s/he needs to hire more competent mail service help?

As I said last time, and I say again, with so many unanswered questions, what else can I do but keep writing and hope for the best? Recalling, then, where we left off last time: Renee is really getting into the bread and honey when she suddenly notices that

…Abel was not participating in the table talk. She turned to him and said, “Such an unusual flavor that your honey has. Some kind of spice…”

His eyes sparkled as they met hers. “It’s my fall specialty. The bees harvest their nectar from my pumpkin blossoms, and I add a touch of cardamom, cinnamon and cloves. I’m pleased you like it. Have you tried the caviar? I recommend eating it with John’s mushrooms.”

They dug in, smacked their lips and gave each other approving thumbs up as the caviar and mushrooms disappeared from their plates.

“Now try the vegetables,” he suggested. “Ada grows the most amazing produce. She’s always giving it away.”

“I prefer my root vegetables cooked,” Renee stated as she bit into a slice of yam, “but wow! this is really good. Sweet, crispy.”

Her taste buds exploded with ecstasy. Had she ever tasted such food before? The beets were sweet, the broccoli and cauliflower pleasantly pungent.

“Let’s try your salad now.”

She was embarrassed. “It’s just lettuce from the grocery store; however, the dressing is from scratch. Raspberry vinegarette, made from–unfortunately raspberries I also bought at the grocery store! Hey, how about we jazz it up with some of Ada’s greens!”

Abel caught the spirit and they started doctoring the salad. “Put some of the goat cheese in and some pecans,”

“Slice some pear and apple into it as well.” Renee added. “Mmmmmmm. That’s really good.”

They were having such fun that at first they didn’t notice the room had turned quiet.

(TBC)
 

#24 Now Is Never

Time Is The Strangest Thing!

I can’t stop thinking about how maybe I should be writing my present instead of my future and how inconvenient that will be since the title of my blog is “Writing My Future.” But then I realize that the present is also called “now,” or as Eckhart Tolle calls it, “the now” in his book The Power of Now. Anyway, as far as I can see “now” is always never, because as soon as you start to focus on “now,” that “now” to which you are bringing your attention is already past. So, if I’m going to write my present, by the time I write it, it is my past, which is not what I want at all. Since what I want is Renee’s present and future, the only thing I can think to do is keep writing and hope for the best.

Therefore and thus (don’t you just love that transitional phrase which I thought of all by myself?), below is my usual review of what happened in my last post, along with the new excerpt from The Potluck, all of which I am writing in my now, for your future pleasure. And hopefully my new present and future.

This is the review: Sir John has just chided the group about being Americans. Well, what I mean is he is upset about Americans, who, in his opinion, make very bad decisions about what they eat, mac and cheese in a box being the epitome of negative food choices:

“I like your mac and cheese.” Ada smiled in Rita’s direction.

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#23 Cheese & Bees

I Think I Agree With Joe

One of the members of the Writing My Future group asks about Monty. I tell her that he was a real person who offered me an editing job in Malaysia back in the 70s when my husband and I lived in Denver. As it turns out he is the real Monty now as well, which is different than, and as it turns out, not nearly as interesting as the full Monty. Because, you see, after she asked about him, I found him on the Internet, still living in Colorado with his wife. He has grand kids and writes spiritual books. The books look not just a little, but a lot dry to me; what is still interesting, however, as I recall Renee’s ennui back in March, 2013, Post #5, is that I do want to know more about that spiritual adventure he was offering so long ago. Except I want it to be my future, not my past. (OMG! I just realized what I am doing wrong! I should be saying my present instead of my future. Otherwise I may never see it!)

Regarding the adventure: the writing is going…oddly, dissolving into Lewis Carroll nonsense with the characters discussing God and goat cheese, which is perceived by some to be more spiritually evolved than macaroni and cheese:

Renee located Reese’s cheese on her plate and took a taste. It was delicious! Soft, creamy, tart. And the flavor….mmmmmm.

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