Today, January 25, 2012, is my official first full-time writing day. It's also the great Scottish Bard's birthday. Whether that will be significant in the days and weeks and years to come, I can only guess, but today I'm guessing I will remember it as an auspicious moment in time. A time when I chose the path less traveled and scared the sh** out of myself and changed my life in the process.
Sounds like an awful lot to live up to, doesn't it? Well, I believe small moments define us and our respective paths. As to it being Burn's Night well that could just be a happy coincidence or it could mean that the bard somewhere in the cosmos is smiling and perhaps laughing as I and others like me try to put pen to paper, finger to key-board, yadayadayada, and create something enjoyable.
So in the Spirit of the Bard and Creative souls everywhere I salute you and your efforts big and small, good and worthy of tossing in the trash and re-doing. Even those efforts mean we are in fact "doing". Who knows where this path will ultimately lead, it keeps changing as I travel further along. I'm just glad on Day One that got up and started walking.
In Honor of Robby Burns, may you:
"...catch the moments as they fly, and use them as ye ought, man: Believe me, happiness is shy, and comes not aye when sought..." (1787) from A Bottle and Friend
Happy Burns Day & Night
Leigh
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Monday, January 2, 2012
Cha-Cha-CCHHaannggess...
I've just ended a twenty year chapter of my life, seventeen of which I used to define Who I was and What I Did.
Strange, now just three days later, to think of the Momentousness of my decision to change, to risk identity and purpose, at this point in my life. Weirder yet is to think, if not Now, When? (For those of you frustrated with my arbitrary capitalization, I do so to emphasize my emotion or in the alternative for my more literal friends, to emphasize my intent to form a new path).
So, I'm moving forward with trepidation, hope and what I hope resembles Grace toward a New and hopefully more elemental self with the time and opportunity to care and change more than just the way I approach life, but the community out my door. I think it's time to stop and plant the roses, to write words worth reading and to make a difference no matter how small in our Universal quest to make Our World a more Welcoming and Holistic Community for each of us.
E Pluribus Unum {From Many One}
Thoughts?
Strange, now just three days later, to think of the Momentousness of my decision to change, to risk identity and purpose, at this point in my life. Weirder yet is to think, if not Now, When? (For those of you frustrated with my arbitrary capitalization, I do so to emphasize my emotion or in the alternative for my more literal friends, to emphasize my intent to form a new path).
So, I'm moving forward with trepidation, hope and what I hope resembles Grace toward a New and hopefully more elemental self with the time and opportunity to care and change more than just the way I approach life, but the community out my door. I think it's time to stop and plant the roses, to write words worth reading and to make a difference no matter how small in our Universal quest to make Our World a more Welcoming and Holistic Community for each of us.
E Pluribus Unum {From Many One}
Thoughts?
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Life in Late Summer
At 7:50p.m. this evening I walked past my daughter's room and tried to shut off the light. She wasn't there and the light wasn't on. Just the echo of the late summer sunshine illuminating a now empty space. The cat waits in vain for her return and the papers, long forgotten, rustle on her desk.
To say I miss my girl is like saying it's hard to breathe under water.
At 7:51p.m. I'm sitting on my back porch with my son, enjoying the light as it filters through the trees illuminating the May Pole I made with my children in Spring and haven't had the heart to fully Autumnize yet. He isn't listening to me, he's got headphones on as he lifts weights to: EYE OF THE TIGER and envisions himself as Sly Stallone. If I were imagining a stud I wanted to emulate, it'd be Jason Statham, but I get the Rocky thing.
8:06 p.m. I'm trying hard not to cry. I'm looking at baby photos. I'm re-living everything I did right and the more than I'm comfortable with list of things I've done wrong, wondering, exactly, how does one summarize a few short years of parenthood where you hope to heck you got it right, and you're scared to death, and you just want to hold them close. My God. My Goddess. My Infinite Consciousness, how do I do this job of parenting well?
I love my deck. I smell the roses. I enjoy the birds. I miss my girl. I enjoy my son. I live, I love, I slay...(my kids will get this)...therefore I AM.
And I miss my girl.
All thoughts on Love and Loss and Change Welcome.
To say I miss my girl is like saying it's hard to breathe under water.
At 7:51p.m. I'm sitting on my back porch with my son, enjoying the light as it filters through the trees illuminating the May Pole I made with my children in Spring and haven't had the heart to fully Autumnize yet. He isn't listening to me, he's got headphones on as he lifts weights to: EYE OF THE TIGER and envisions himself as Sly Stallone. If I were imagining a stud I wanted to emulate, it'd be Jason Statham, but I get the Rocky thing.
8:06 p.m. I'm trying hard not to cry. I'm looking at baby photos. I'm re-living everything I did right and the more than I'm comfortable with list of things I've done wrong, wondering, exactly, how does one summarize a few short years of parenthood where you hope to heck you got it right, and you're scared to death, and you just want to hold them close. My God. My Goddess. My Infinite Consciousness, how do I do this job of parenting well?
I love my deck. I smell the roses. I enjoy the birds. I miss my girl. I enjoy my son. I live, I love, I slay...(my kids will get this)...therefore I AM.
And I miss my girl.
All thoughts on Love and Loss and Change Welcome.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Officially the mother of an Adult (and not feeling old). Warning:Not for young eyes, esp. if you're related to me.
Today, July 14, 2011 my wonderful pea turns 18.
This day was foreshadowed by an almost surreal weekend over the 4th of July. Aidanne has been taking her brother (12) to Blue Mound where they both are working as caddies. This left a full 5 days where my husband and I were alone all day for the first time in 18 years.
It was almost like dating...we actually have something to talk about other than our children...wow, what a concept. I like it.
Vince is loving it. We're young (we've been married 24 years on the 11th, but I was 12 when we said 'I do') so we still enjoy seeing each other naked. (I have a feeling I'm going to feel young enough for this when I'm 95 and he's 99. I'll keep you updated in 50+ years.) We were giggling like teenagers with the thrill of being in the buff in broad daylight without fear of young eyes being scarred for life. Almost gives one a reason to look forward to a sometimes empty nest.
Probably more information than you, dear reader, want or need to know, which is why I'm not publicizing this particular post. My point is this: life changes and gives us circumstances that could and sometimes will be fraught with pain and if not pain a pang for what is lost. It's up to us if we wish to wallow or get naked in the sunshine.
Happy birthday, Sweetheart. I sure am enjoying watching you grow.
This day was foreshadowed by an almost surreal weekend over the 4th of July. Aidanne has been taking her brother (12) to Blue Mound where they both are working as caddies. This left a full 5 days where my husband and I were alone all day for the first time in 18 years.
It was almost like dating...we actually have something to talk about other than our children...wow, what a concept. I like it.
Vince is loving it. We're young (we've been married 24 years on the 11th, but I was 12 when we said 'I do') so we still enjoy seeing each other naked. (I have a feeling I'm going to feel young enough for this when I'm 95 and he's 99. I'll keep you updated in 50+ years.) We were giggling like teenagers with the thrill of being in the buff in broad daylight without fear of young eyes being scarred for life. Almost gives one a reason to look forward to a sometimes empty nest.
Probably more information than you, dear reader, want or need to know, which is why I'm not publicizing this particular post. My point is this: life changes and gives us circumstances that could and sometimes will be fraught with pain and if not pain a pang for what is lost. It's up to us if we wish to wallow or get naked in the sunshine.
Happy birthday, Sweetheart. I sure am enjoying watching you grow.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Ninja-Lawyer-Writes-Romance (and loves it)
Yesterday I started handing out book covers for SECOND CHANCES, my second romance e-book, at the court house, to some of my attorney, commissioner and judge friends and to miscellaneous staff at the court house.
Results and responses were mixed.
Judges, commissioners and attorneys were widely supportive, with the exception of one soon to retire somewhat grumpy male attorney I love but who has no use for anything but male thrillers. Since I love male thrillers too I get it, and although I don't respect his response, I understand it. A win, I'd say, and I took it as one.
The only negative response I got that irritated and grated was when a court reporter referred to the genre in general as "trash" and my novel in particular as one of those "trash novels". Don't get me wrong, I can be as self-deprecating as the next writer, and almost as elitist if I give it the old college try, but trash? Really?
So here's the martial arts part: Be Proud of What you Do. So says my Sensei. So believe I.
I am proud of what I do. All of it. Writing romances that make me and others laugh, cry, empathize, and just plain feel good is more than most of us get to do with our lives. It's meaningful and certainly not something to be bagged and stuck in a land-fill, I don't care how cynical you are, or how literary, everyone loves a love story.
So I say to my writing siblings: Be Proud. You make life better in a time where there's more than enough pain and nastiness to go around.
Trash-My-Ass!
Happy Writing. Happy Reading.
Leigh Morgan
Results and responses were mixed.
Judges, commissioners and attorneys were widely supportive, with the exception of one soon to retire somewhat grumpy male attorney I love but who has no use for anything but male thrillers. Since I love male thrillers too I get it, and although I don't respect his response, I understand it. A win, I'd say, and I took it as one.
The only negative response I got that irritated and grated was when a court reporter referred to the genre in general as "trash" and my novel in particular as one of those "trash novels". Don't get me wrong, I can be as self-deprecating as the next writer, and almost as elitist if I give it the old college try, but trash? Really?
So here's the martial arts part: Be Proud of What you Do. So says my Sensei. So believe I.
I am proud of what I do. All of it. Writing romances that make me and others laugh, cry, empathize, and just plain feel good is more than most of us get to do with our lives. It's meaningful and certainly not something to be bagged and stuck in a land-fill, I don't care how cynical you are, or how literary, everyone loves a love story.
So I say to my writing siblings: Be Proud. You make life better in a time where there's more than enough pain and nastiness to go around.
Trash-My-Ass!
Happy Writing. Happy Reading.
Leigh Morgan
Friday, June 17, 2011
Life in Small Moments
June 15, 2011
Many of the Ah-Ha moments of my life have come from background noise.
I knew from the sound of my father's breathing he wasn't going to be same man coming out of the hospital as he was when he went in. The gentle persistence of Tartan, my then twenty year old cat, as she nudged my hand told me hold me now, I'm leaving soon was such a moment. I held her. She curled into my arms, purred and her spirit passed gently as I silently told her how much she gave with her constant love. The instant my eyes captured my now husband's I knew this was a man who would change my life. No kidding. The whole thing took about two seconds. I'm sure it took a whole lot longer for him, but that's another post.
And Wednesday night, after a double training session at the dojo, feeling exhausted, every minute of eighty-years old and like I was trying to move through quick-sand it hit me that I'd done something very right with my life so far. I was sitting in an epsom salt bath just this side of scorching, enjoying an icy lime beer with my husband when we heard it coming from our soon-to-be eighteen year old daughter's bedroom.
Giggling. Yes, can't-help-but-make-Scrouge-smile-giggling.
Our daughter and our twelve year old son were in her room giggling like the best friends they are with a secret no one else on the face of the planet could possibly see as tummy-hurting funny. I don't know what they were giggling about and it doesn't matter. This is common in our house, a fact for which I am profoundly grateful, and yet in that commonality lay the seeds of so-what.
When my husband looked at me with tears in his eyes and quietly said, "I'm going to miss that." The just-another-dayness of the moment evaporated and the enormity of the reality that in a few short weeks our daughter will be living on campus more than she's home, set in.
So did a deep satisfaction that our children will always laugh together and with us over small, trivial, goofy things. I am lucky to have that connection to them and more importantly, to be there to share the connection they have with one another.
So how is this post all about me? Well, in those self-absorbed-bath-soaked-seconds while I felt the blow of my husband's emotion and digested my own, I knew I would never take that sound for granted again. If I can summon it as my spirit leaves my body I'll set foot on the path of my next journey well satisfied that I helped give the world, and my children, something truly meaningful.
My kids can make me nut's but there is no greater gift I've experienced than the love permeating the air Wednesday evening as I sipped my beer in the bath, my husband next to me, just listening to the background noise of our children enjoying each other.
Aidanne and Cian...thanks.
Many of the Ah-Ha moments of my life have come from background noise.
I knew from the sound of my father's breathing he wasn't going to be same man coming out of the hospital as he was when he went in. The gentle persistence of Tartan, my then twenty year old cat, as she nudged my hand told me hold me now, I'm leaving soon was such a moment. I held her. She curled into my arms, purred and her spirit passed gently as I silently told her how much she gave with her constant love. The instant my eyes captured my now husband's I knew this was a man who would change my life. No kidding. The whole thing took about two seconds. I'm sure it took a whole lot longer for him, but that's another post.
And Wednesday night, after a double training session at the dojo, feeling exhausted, every minute of eighty-years old and like I was trying to move through quick-sand it hit me that I'd done something very right with my life so far. I was sitting in an epsom salt bath just this side of scorching, enjoying an icy lime beer with my husband when we heard it coming from our soon-to-be eighteen year old daughter's bedroom.
Giggling. Yes, can't-help-but-make-Scrouge-smile-giggling.
Our daughter and our twelve year old son were in her room giggling like the best friends they are with a secret no one else on the face of the planet could possibly see as tummy-hurting funny. I don't know what they were giggling about and it doesn't matter. This is common in our house, a fact for which I am profoundly grateful, and yet in that commonality lay the seeds of so-what.
When my husband looked at me with tears in his eyes and quietly said, "I'm going to miss that." The just-another-dayness of the moment evaporated and the enormity of the reality that in a few short weeks our daughter will be living on campus more than she's home, set in.
So did a deep satisfaction that our children will always laugh together and with us over small, trivial, goofy things. I am lucky to have that connection to them and more importantly, to be there to share the connection they have with one another.
So how is this post all about me? Well, in those self-absorbed-bath-soaked-seconds while I felt the blow of my husband's emotion and digested my own, I knew I would never take that sound for granted again. If I can summon it as my spirit leaves my body I'll set foot on the path of my next journey well satisfied that I helped give the world, and my children, something truly meaningful.
My kids can make me nut's but there is no greater gift I've experienced than the love permeating the air Wednesday evening as I sipped my beer in the bath, my husband next to me, just listening to the background noise of our children enjoying each other.
Aidanne and Cian...thanks.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Spirituality, Paganism & Prayer
During this week of Easter, with Beltane quickly approaching, my children and I have been focused, perhaps even more than usual, on living meaningfully and new beginnings. This probably sounds more profound than it is. It's not. It all started with cleaning the house, throwing sh** out (excuse me, 'recycling') and consciously trimming down.
Spirituality is part of daily life here in Mac-Ski Land. Not the structured-organized-religion-type of spirituality that my husband and I grew up with and still admire, but a more visceral and immediate spirituality that keeps nudging and pushing and clobbering us over the head until we pay attention to it, kind of spirituality.
It goes something like this: clean up, simplify, see beauty in the everyday, love deeply, be thankful, appreciate life (that includes the environment which we have an obligation to keep healthy), intend to do good (then follow through and actually do it).
Sounds preachy. It isn't. It's pretty self-centered actually, but I digress.
I am currently writing an adventure-romance that has myth, magic and pagan spirituality as a back-drop, sort of the way Christianity is the back-drop for Raiders of the Lost Ark. So I sent away for some information from one of the modern Druid societies. My son and I were reading the information they sent to help inspire me while writing my current pages. (An alternative and perhaps more valid reading of these events involves my continued ability to procrastinate whenever I sit down to write...but that's another blog).
Another piece of this involves my continued search for ways our family can help the environment, even if only by using fewer resources and conserving the ones we have. This has been a constant theme so its energy is ever present permeating the collective consciousness of our household.
So, getting back to my story...
My 12 year old son who makes connections that boggle my mind, and does it with lightning speed, said to me: "You know how you always tell me that saying 'Thank You' is a prayer..." (and for the reader I had forgotten this 'always' conversation so I nodded with parental certainty and answered "yes")
Then he followed with: "So, is saying 'I love you' a prayer too?"
WOW. Neither an under-graduate degree in philosophy, nor five years of Catholic school and daily mass (I'm not Catholic by the way) nor a life-time of UCC attendance quite prepared me for that one.
Then the skies opened (figuratively) time stood still and I heard "ahhh" resonating through my synapses. The answer I gave? A resounding "YES".
The Pagans got this one right.
At least the modern Druids seem to on the face of their statement about who they are, which my son was reading at the time. That statement embodies in part: Love of Life, Love of People, Love of Environment, Peace & Justice, Beauty, Reverence for Ancestors & Story & Myth, among others. (To a writer, this is like crack...again I digress).
My son put all the pieces together and wove them into a thing of beauty I couldn't consciously contemplate in my frenetic and sometimes disjointed life. And he did it in less than a second. Talk about reality check. Time to slow-down,see the interconnectedness of life and smell-the-roses-stupid (that's me I'm referring to).
So here's what I came up with when my son-induced AH-HA moment smucked me up-side the head.
When we say or think "I love..." we are in fact saying we inherently have the capacity to love and that capacity (I would argue) is a gift to be thankful for. We are also saying: I am worthy of giving love and I am worthy of receiving it. Again, something to be grateful for; a prayer of thanksgiving or simply an expression of joy for being alive. (Same thing. Different name.)
If this all seems a little convoluted perhaps I should say it's all connected. I suggested early on to my children that when they pray they start with: "Thank you for..." instead of starting with "Please let...X...happen". They can always ask for "X" after they indicate their initial thanks for being here as long as they end with 'Thank you'; sort of a 'Thank You' sandwich if you will. So now 'Thank You' has become a prayer of gratefulness and they self-identify as praying several times a day (some call it meditation or simply being present and aware of the moment).
My son took it a step farther, enlightening me, and strangely or not, making my universe a happier place by reminding me that Love, no matter what its form, is sacred and a reason for rejoicing in the everyday.
Love as Prayer. Love as Mediation & Meditation. Love as the Ultimate Expression of Life.
Wow, I CAN slow down and listen to the birds and smell the flowers and be thankful for the people who enrich my life and for the peace my home and my environment bring me. I got that part of being alive right. The work of the day is important, but it's secondary to the purpose of the day. This I learned by paying attention to my children. (Can hardly wait to find out what my grand-children will hit me with!)
What a wonderful reason to glory in story-telling and to write romance. It's all connected.
Thank You, my son, for asking the question. I Love You. (AMEN. So-Mote-it-Be & Blessings.)
My wish for all of you: Happy Writing, Happy Living and Much Love. And may you all have someone in your lives who asks thoughtful questions.
Spirituality is part of daily life here in Mac-Ski Land. Not the structured-organized-religion-type of spirituality that my husband and I grew up with and still admire, but a more visceral and immediate spirituality that keeps nudging and pushing and clobbering us over the head until we pay attention to it, kind of spirituality.
It goes something like this: clean up, simplify, see beauty in the everyday, love deeply, be thankful, appreciate life (that includes the environment which we have an obligation to keep healthy), intend to do good (then follow through and actually do it).
Sounds preachy. It isn't. It's pretty self-centered actually, but I digress.
I am currently writing an adventure-romance that has myth, magic and pagan spirituality as a back-drop, sort of the way Christianity is the back-drop for Raiders of the Lost Ark. So I sent away for some information from one of the modern Druid societies. My son and I were reading the information they sent to help inspire me while writing my current pages. (An alternative and perhaps more valid reading of these events involves my continued ability to procrastinate whenever I sit down to write...but that's another blog).
Another piece of this involves my continued search for ways our family can help the environment, even if only by using fewer resources and conserving the ones we have. This has been a constant theme so its energy is ever present permeating the collective consciousness of our household.
So, getting back to my story...
My 12 year old son who makes connections that boggle my mind, and does it with lightning speed, said to me: "You know how you always tell me that saying 'Thank You' is a prayer..." (and for the reader I had forgotten this 'always' conversation so I nodded with parental certainty and answered "yes")
Then he followed with: "So, is saying 'I love you' a prayer too?"
WOW. Neither an under-graduate degree in philosophy, nor five years of Catholic school and daily mass (I'm not Catholic by the way) nor a life-time of UCC attendance quite prepared me for that one.
Then the skies opened (figuratively) time stood still and I heard "ahhh" resonating through my synapses. The answer I gave? A resounding "YES".
The Pagans got this one right.
At least the modern Druids seem to on the face of their statement about who they are, which my son was reading at the time. That statement embodies in part: Love of Life, Love of People, Love of Environment, Peace & Justice, Beauty, Reverence for Ancestors & Story & Myth, among others. (To a writer, this is like crack...again I digress).
My son put all the pieces together and wove them into a thing of beauty I couldn't consciously contemplate in my frenetic and sometimes disjointed life. And he did it in less than a second. Talk about reality check. Time to slow-down,see the interconnectedness of life and smell-the-roses-stupid (that's me I'm referring to).
So here's what I came up with when my son-induced AH-HA moment smucked me up-side the head.
When we say or think "I love..." we are in fact saying we inherently have the capacity to love and that capacity (I would argue) is a gift to be thankful for. We are also saying: I am worthy of giving love and I am worthy of receiving it. Again, something to be grateful for; a prayer of thanksgiving or simply an expression of joy for being alive. (Same thing. Different name.)
If this all seems a little convoluted perhaps I should say it's all connected. I suggested early on to my children that when they pray they start with: "Thank you for..." instead of starting with "Please let...X...happen". They can always ask for "X" after they indicate their initial thanks for being here as long as they end with 'Thank you'; sort of a 'Thank You' sandwich if you will. So now 'Thank You' has become a prayer of gratefulness and they self-identify as praying several times a day (some call it meditation or simply being present and aware of the moment).
My son took it a step farther, enlightening me, and strangely or not, making my universe a happier place by reminding me that Love, no matter what its form, is sacred and a reason for rejoicing in the everyday.
Love as Prayer. Love as Mediation & Meditation. Love as the Ultimate Expression of Life.
Wow, I CAN slow down and listen to the birds and smell the flowers and be thankful for the people who enrich my life and for the peace my home and my environment bring me. I got that part of being alive right. The work of the day is important, but it's secondary to the purpose of the day. This I learned by paying attention to my children. (Can hardly wait to find out what my grand-children will hit me with!)
What a wonderful reason to glory in story-telling and to write romance. It's all connected.
Thank You, my son, for asking the question. I Love You. (AMEN. So-Mote-it-Be & Blessings.)
My wish for all of you: Happy Writing, Happy Living and Much Love. And may you all have someone in your lives who asks thoughtful questions.
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