Lately I’ve been reading, listening and just generally soaking in some great stuff that hits on a variety of areas:

Chris Guillebeau, author, traveller and blog writer caught my attention near the end of 2011 and I’ve been “following” him ever since. He has a great list of activities that will lead you to the “One-Year, Self-Directed, Alternative Graduate School Experience” and a chapter on “Radical Exclusion and the Quest for Abundance” – I loved both of these. He has a pile of other thoughts, ideas and challenges that have really captured my imagination lately.

One word – Adele. I LOVE her. And I love this dvd that showed up under my Christmas tree in December. Singing – awesome. Authenticity - gut-wrenching. Potty mouth - undoubtedly. (Warning – if swear words and earthy chat in between songs offend you, then just skip over this one. Trust me.) I wanted to weep with her when she heard a capacity crowd sing her songs at The Royal Albert Hall. Really cool to experience that moment.

Jesus Culture and Kim Walker – especially Kim Walker’s rendition of How He Loves Us. That song, and the passion with which she sings it…well, words fail. And on a totally different level, I am fascinated by how low her voice sounds in keys that are not really all that low. And then, of course, how high she’s actually singing, when it doesn’t sound all that high. Human voices are remarkable. Sometimes. Well, a few of them are.

I’m also in the middle of reading a couple of other books:

    and    .

The problem is that Linchpin is due back at the library in 5 days and I don’t think I’m going to make the deadline . Time to figure out online renewing.

Anyway, those are a few of my favourite things at the moment. Have you been pondering some wisdom lately?

“You don’t need a new plan for next year. You need a commitment.”

In some ways, whew. I don’t need a detailed plan to launch into 2012. 

But I do need some “stick-to-it-ness”. Hmm. Not so fabulous.

It wasn’t a great morning…I was grumpy, sluggish and feeling haunted by a large “to do” list, topped off with the opportunity to wait in the doctor’s office for what felt like hours. Then I came home to a chicken sandwich, with two cups of coffee and felt my outlook brightening with each bite and sip.  It occurred to me as I began whirling around the kitchen that I am very tied to the food I eat. When I don’t have food, I begin to sink, both physically and mentally. Nothing seems too possible, and everything is difficult. Half an hour after eating, I become this productive and relatively (let’s be realistic here) optimistic person.

To be honest, I rarely have to worry about this. Every day I have a choice of healthy foods to eat and my stomach hardly ever grumbles from hunger.

How, I asked myself, does someone living in poverty get the strength to not only provide for present needs, but plan for the future? If you don’t have enough to eat, or anything healthy to eat, can you muster up the energy to pull yourself and your family out of the poverty cycle?

At one point I was the Exec Director of a nonprofit that tried to feed, clothe and house hungry children in different parts of the world. We raised funds for the immediate needs, and brainstormed ways to make the future bright and sustainable. It was good work, and I miss having that direct connection to problem-solving, creative caring.

A couple of friends were over for dinner the other night and we were talking through the ramifications of pretending Santa’s real, while asserting that the Nativity story is true. As a child, I didn’t have problems moving from one realm to the other. My dad worked hard at keeping the magic of Christmas alive and yet, at some inevitable point, I discovered that Santa was not real. I don’t even remember when I figured that out – it was that untraumatizing.

I know others though that feel unable to come to terms with the GIANT lie that was perpetrated by previously trustworthy parents. If that is untrue, what else is untrue? Is the world round? Do you get cramps if you eat before swimming? Will your face really freeze that way?

So far I’m walking cautiously. I talk about the joy of pretending and the story of Santa (emphasis on “story”) and the fact of Jesus being born in a manger, with shepherds coming to see him. And when I look into her beautiful eyes, I realize that she’s only half listening and is just waiting for me to stop talking so she can run off and play with the skating reindeer ornaments that used to hang on our tree but now follow her around the house. 

Maybe that’s enough for now. Maybe someday, if I repeat myself often enough, she’ll tell me that she heard me all along. Or maybe, like most parents, I’m living in a funny, little fairy tale of my own.

This blog post spoke to me today. Loved this sentence in particular 

“Your ability to be fully present with the people or children you lead will depend on your ability to be present with God.”

Ouch.

And then we headed home into real life – schedules, to do lists, Christmas plans, mom stuff – none of it tragic or terrifying (so I know, stop whining, Snider). Just exhausting. Does the speed in which you crash down to earth after a weekend away indicate the need for further relaxation? Is there some sort of math equation that can figure this out?

For a moment today I thought longingly about the silence, the wind whistling through the trees and the luxury of having to do nothing at all, but I also remembered how happy I was to see my family on Sunday night and to hear about everything I missed. Maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be – maybe we’re supposed to enjoy fully the time when we can get “away” and also enjoy equally the prospect of re-entering every day life.

Women want what the world can’t give. Why do we offer them something else?

via Why We Don’t Need “Women’s Ministry”.

I, on the other hand, have never been known as a person who has trouble saying “No”…You want me to volunteer on another team, bake 4 dozen cookies, start a daycare, or bike 50 km? NO. See, easy.

It’s harder, I’m discovering, to say “Yes”. In fact, I think my default is to say “No”, which is a little disturbing. No sounds like this:

• I don’t have any time.
• I’m so tired.
• I’m not feeling inspired.
• It doesn’t matter.

Ugh. Not the way I want to be, and not the way I want to be remembered. “Deborah? Oh yeah, she never did anything…couldn’t be bothered.” Now there’s a nice epitaph.

Now I don’t want to go crazy and start saying “yes” to a bunch of nutty things…let’s be sensible here. Still not starting a daycare, and the biking thing is still out. But writing posts for an unknown blog even when I am pressed for time and don’t have anything much to say? Yes. Reading my bible and talking to God a lot? Yes. Baking 2 dozen cookies? Yes, though that may also involve eating 1 dozen.

Looking around for the next few “yeses”. What about you?

Writing is a funny thing. I can ignore it, obsess over it, and pretend I don’t care, but every time I find myself wandering back again trying to put thoughts into words before I censor myself to silence. This time it was one of Seth Godin’s blog posts, inviting me back to my own blog:

Writer’s block isn’t hard to cure.

Just write poorly. Continue to write poorly, in public, until you can write better.

I believe that everyone should write in public. Get a blog. Or use Squidoo or Tumblr or a microblogging site. Use an alias if you like. Turn off comments, certainly–you don’t need more criticism, you need more writing.

Do it every day. Every single day. Not a diary, not fiction, but analysis. Clear, crisp, honest writing about what you see in the world. Or want to see. Or teach (in writing). Tell us how to do something.

If you know you have to write something every single day, even a paragraph, you will improve your writing. If you’re concerned with quality, of course, then not writing is not a problem, because zero is perfect and without defects. Shipping nothing is safe.

The second best thing to zero is something better than bad. So if you know you have write tomorrow, your brain will start working on something better than bad. And then you’ll inevitably redefine bad and tomorrow will be better than that. And on and on.

Write like you talk. Often.

Every day? Not likely. More often – yes.

Even now I can feel the urge to delete this pathetic post and start again. No worries, Seth, I will stay strong and write poorly. And tomorrow I’ll aim to write a little less poorly.