All posts by Kirsetin

Wise Words: The Most Important Things.

March 5, 2012UncategorizedKirsetin

“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it?…you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a tellar but for want of an understanding ear.”

― Stephen King, Different Seasons

The important things. They are the things we hold close, we grasp too tightly, we bury beneath the layers of smiles and laughter and “I’m good, How are you’s?” because we’re afraid of what will happen if we let them out.

Will you think about Stephen King’s words, then write and tell me how these wise words resonate with you?

I had this idea—to post a quote each week and for us to share with one another how it resonates in our lives—because Jeff Goins challenged me at a conference to write what I love. And I love to read the wisdom of the ages, to think about the wise words from across time and cultures, and to explore what others think these words, too. I’m interested in all sorts of ideas, so each month, I’ll choose a different theme. In March, we’ll start with wise words about Relationships.

This week, on Wednesday, I’ll post about how Stephen King’s words about the most important things are significant to me. But more importantly, I’d like to know how his words relate to your life, your relationships, your career, or your children. I’m interested in your story.

I decided to do it this way—to post the quote on Monday and link to our stories on Wednesdays—so that you could have some time to ruminate and write. I hope you’ll write from the heart and that we’ll learn from each other. On Fridays, I’ll write another post and link to some of my favorites from Wednesday.

If you have questions, please leave me a comment and let me know.

On Wednesday, post your thoughts on your own blog, then come back here and link up. When you post, be sure to include a link here, so others know where to go if they’d like to join. If you prefer, you can also leave your thoughts in the comments of my post on Wednesday. Either way, be sure to check out the writing of someone else who links up. It’s a great way to build community in the wonderful world of writers and bloggers.

Got it? See you Wednesday.

Wisdom From the Ages: Join Me?

February 27, 2012life, perspective, relationships, Wisdom From the Agesblissdom, relationships, thoughtfulness, wisdom, writingKirsetin

If we would only give the same amount of reflection to what we want out of life that we give to the question of what to do with two weeks’ vacation, we would be startled at our false standards and the aimless procession of our busy days.”

—Dorothy Canfield Fisher

Wisdom through the ages — Do you spend more time planning your vacation than your life? (photo credit: virtual photography studio)

For a long as I can remember, I’ve loved reading kernels of wisdom like this one. I find it powerful when people from varied cultures and far apart centuries share share insights that still matter.

This weekend at the Blissdom Conference, Jeff Goins challenged us to write what we love. Afterwards, I thought for a long time about what I love and I realized this: I love to think. I love to ponder. I love to hear what others have to say.

To that end, I’d like to spend the rest of this year investigating the wisdom people have shared through the ages. Wisdom we can apply to our lives here and now. I’d like to do this together. Will you join me?

My idea is this:

Each Monday I’ll post a quote that resonates with me and might resonate with you, too—maybe long-ago words from Thoreau, maybe a newer nugget from Gretchin Rubin.
On Wednesday, I’ll repost the quote and tell you a story, explain how I think it relates to my life now, and I’ll invite you to do the same. You can respond with a comment, or link to your own post describing how the quote moves you—or why you don’t agree with its premise.
On Friday, I’ll link to the post that most spoke to me, or to all of the posts if we only have a few.

Each month will follow a theme, and since we missed February, which I suppose would have been about love, March will be about relationships.

I’ll post a quote Monday and look forward to reading your thoughtful responses beginning on Wednesday. If you like the idea, please share it—we can all learn from each other.

Will I see you next week?

Making Memories

February 23, 2012family, life, perspective, writingKirsetin

There’s nothing quite like an accident to snap life into focus.

For the past 6 months, as I’ve focused on my writing career, I’ve barely had time to shop for groceries. This isn’t a complaint. Although we’ve run out of milk twice, I’m happily, ecstatically, writing and have met a slew of wonderful writer friends whose works I relish as I read them in print and online. But there’s a trade-off to everything and in the short-term my trade off is leisure time. Last fall, when my writing class instructor, Meagan Francis, asked all of us, “What are you willing to give up to find time to write?” we all laughingly agreed that we were willing to give up cleaning the house. But her question was important because it helped us understand that you really can’t do it all. When you add a writing career, something else stops. So if you notice that we run out of bread or that I’m not caught up on the latest TV show or even that I’m not running on Wednesday mornings, it’s okay. I’m figuring out how to make this all work, and in the long run, we’ll have bread. Really, we will.

All this to say that when my 9-year-old took a head-first 5-foot fall into a large boulder at a park last weekend, I suddenly had time. I had time to calm him down. To re-assure my other kids that he’d be fine. I had 6 hours to spend in the ER, watching them do x-rays on my little boy’s jaw, wrist and elbow. Watching him lay on a gurney as he slid in and out of the cat scan machine. I had lots of time to text my husband, away on business, with updates and to wait for the doctors to re-assure us that our boy would be fine.

And he is fine. He’s banged up but good, has a broken (permanent!) front tooth, and might not be climbing over any railings in the near future, but a little Dermabond here, and a little Bacitracin there, and he’ll be as good as new. Okay, he’ll need a little dental work, too, but these are very minor things. Very. Minor. Things.

He doesn’t remember falling. In the moments after the accident, my poor little guy kept looking at the blood, which seemed to be everywhere, and asking, “What happened?” After we explained, he asked again, and, a few minutes later, again. None of his potential injuries was as scary as that—as not knowing how hard he hit his head and what that meant.

In the hours that followed, I re-scheduling carpools, lunch and cancelled appointments for the following day. Because of the concussion, he wasn’t allowed to read or watch TV for 24 hours. So I read to him. We went to the car wash. We visited the dentist. I bought him a milkshake. We did nothing but spend the day together. As I look back on that day the edges are blurry but my son, in the center, is in sharp focus. He’s fine.

And just like that I realized that it doesn’t matter if we run out of milk or bread. It only matters that we use the time we have to love and learn and grow. My kids know that I like to play games with them and take them to new places. But do they know why? Do they know that every hour we spent playing Rumikube together is an hour that I get to know them more? That every trip we take helps me to see them grow in so many ways—in how they interact with each other and with strangers? In how they incorporate the knowledge of this new place into their very being? Do they understand that I only get them with me for a short time, and that’s if I’m lucky?

They don’t, but I do. I understand that the memories we’re creating right now are the ones that will last me a lifetime, the ones I’ll recall when they graduate college or stand at the alter, or when they hold their first child. These are the memories of my life with them. So while I’m willing to let the house get messy, to run out of essential goods every now and then, and to skip my favorite television show, I’m not willing to forgo downtime with my family. More than ever, I’m making time for the memories. And I’m eternally thankful that my little boy is fine and that we have lots more memories to make together.