Posts made in October, 2013
FrankenCHALLENGE Reality Weekend Check!
This weekend, we were all encouraged to take an Actual Reality Weekend – a few days away from technology. The key word for the day was HEAR. So, what did you hear? Who did you listen to? Whose dream did you ask about? What did you learn? And what did you notice about yourself when you took a break from the computer, your smartphone or tablet? Share your reality check with the group on the FB wall – words or pictures will...
Read MoreFrankenCHALLENGE Actual Reality Weekend
This weekend, we want you to take a Sabbath from the START Experiment. We want you to have an Actual Reality Weekend. We are challenging you to step away from the computer, put down the smartphone, turn off the tablet, and: HEAR. Take time to listen. Hear what someone else has to say. Listen to someone else’s dream. Don’t worry about giving advice or having the perfect thing to say. Just listen. Enjoy your actual reality...
Read MoreThe Sound of Courage
The Sound of Courage by Liz Clark There were sounds I didn’t want to hear. The sound the shovel made as it pierced the soil. The pause that followed. The almost-silent sound of dirt piling up beside the neatly dug hole. When the sounds were done, the thing that consumed my mind that day, despite the stubborn sunshine, was the hole that remained. Others call it a grave. I watched him dig the hole. I listened to the sounds. I shouldn’t have been there, listening, but I was. The hole didn’t belong to me or my family. It was dug for a stranger. Yet, the loss I felt was so profound. The woman who raised me had died nearly two years before in an awful and tragic way. And there was no funeral. She was cremated, and we were confused. Because she wasn’t supposed to die. The memorial services were rushed and awkward. She was so loved and had made herself home to so many people. There were services in 3 different states, in borrowed churches, and people who only knew her through her laugh and her lasagna. And it was nice for them to talk about her like she was the nice lady they once knew. But they didn’t understand. They didn’t really understand that she was alive and active and wonderful, and then she got into the backseat of a car on her way to her sister’s funeral. Only she never made it. Instead of her sister’s funeral, she met with her own tragedy that day: a car accident, 12 weeks in ICU and then her death. And they also didn’t seem to understand that she was my rock. And she wasn’t supposed to die like that. But she did. So I found myself at a cemetery nearly two years later. To reflect on life, I suppose. I came across a gravedigger and, for some reason, I stopped and pretended to pay respects to a stranger named Smyth and made myself listen to the sound of the shovel and the dirt. It’s morbid, I know, but I needed it somehow. Standing there in front of a stranger’s grave, an emotion swept over me that I haven’t been able to define. I suddenly had incredible clarity. All at once, I understood what she meant when she told me all of those times growing up, “I just want you to be happy.” She didn’t mean “happy” in the shallow, fun-loving kind of way. She meant happy. Fulfilled. At peace. At rest. Full of life and excited. She wanted me to be who I was designed to be. And I realized as I listened to the sound of the dirt that I was not happy. In many ways, I was dead inside; and not just because of her death. I realized that I had made choices to believe certain things about life and work and the possibility of happiness. Inside my mind’s eye, the truth began to play out in front of me. It was as if, years ago, a figurative gravedigger had said to me, “Your dreams aren’t good enough. In fact, they’re dead. But I can help you get them out of your head so you can go about your life. You’re lucky – you’ve got good solid skills. Stick with those. They are safe. Dreams are dangerous.” And he graciously dug while I wrestled my hopes and dreams into a coffin and waited for him to finish the job. And the sound of that shoveling had been somehow echoing in my soul for years, long before her tragic death. When that gravedigger in my mind had finished, he turned to me and said, “You’re safe now. Stick with what you know and you’ll be fine.” I thanked him and glanced down at the name on his uniform shirt. I couldn’t quite make it out, but it looked like it read: FEAR. I stood there in that cemetery, stunned at this realization, hot tears racing down my face. My dreams were dead and done, but...
Read MoreFrankenCHALLENGE // Thoughtful Thursday
“You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.” ~Maya Angelou Today, do it. Write. Draw. Cook. Paint. Design. Sing. Speak. Scribble. Dig deep. Reach high. Be inspired and be an inspiration. Create something. Your awesome is needed in this world. Take a creative risk. Don’t be afraid to share it. We’d love to see your creativity on the FB...
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