Many Months - no posting

I'm here to tell you why! I was booked to attend a Writer's Workshop in March. The month of February, besides being lousy weather, also brought me to the realization that I had made some promises to myself about this workshop. My Mom used to say "!*&* or get off the pot!" And basically I told myself if I spent all that money and did not take the writing side of my life seriously, then I better just quit talking about it.

Well, in February I set up one day a week to try lifting items from old journals. I enlisted two readers to help me edit, one of which quit shortly thereafter. I squirmed and wondered if I was up to the challenge of all this self examination. And what better time to do self examination then Lent?

So I went to the workshop and discovered a frozen part of me. The major tool of control in  my family of origin was criticism. I still have deep scars from years of unrelenting criticism. I found I could not read even one piece of my writing in front of this group as I was blocked by this enormous fear. 

Along the way, during the sessions I also learned that, yes, the calling to write my spiritual journey was real and strong and not necessarily neglected by me. I found myself slipping an unedited poem in the comments basket anonymously. I still could not find the courage to read, but I did take the lessons to heart that Kathleen Norris offered on editing and began to look at one poem I had written recently.

I put the edited version in the basket with my name. Kathleen asked permission to read the edited one to the group. I stuck my head in my shirt. She said, "Well, they will all know it was yours if you do that!" I gave her permission.

Kathleen the Stinker

Two sessions later she read it. The poem was received with warmth and enthusiasm. She was also a stinker when she handed the paper to me after she read it! I have been editing and writing with new vigor ever since.

Right now my husband is my first editor. I've asked two other people to help out. I hope to share things here, but I have to tell you, as Mom would have said, "I am busier than a one armed paper hanger!"

Disconsolate Leaves © 2014 Molly Lin Dutina

A few disconsolate leaves

blow and tumble over the ice pack

soon to be trammeled to muck

by rainstorm later today

Rest me now, I pray.

take me to the center-down silence of surrender

Pour Your living water over my soul

Prepare me for resurrection life

            today and always

Surrender and rest

has to do with moments

Like leaves blown across ice pack

Yielding to the wind and rain.