Tag: Writer

Farewell to Who I Thought I Was

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It’s Saturday morning in the first week of October and my home is so still and quiet, one could hear my stomach grumble.

I’m supposed to be attending a Jack Canfield, Breakthrough to Success weekend workshop. I was invited by someone who doesn’t know me very well, but sees me as motivated. Friday was the first day I attended, but it reminded me of a Richard Simmons workout, as the spokesman was trying to get the audience pumped up and motivated before Jack appeared.

It was a revelation that my nervous system couldn’t handle the energy of the environment created by the motivational speaker, but 20 years ago I thought I wanted to be him. Now I realize you can make an impact quietly.

Friday, I met a friend for coffee and on the drive over I asked myself if there were any problems in my life that needed to be resolved. The only thing that came to mind was that morning catching the dog with his head in the litter box, eating cat poop. He knew that was not acceptable as soon as he was caught, so that problem had passed. I shared this with my friend and we had a hearty laugh.

Finding people to love and to be loved is connecting with the chosen few who align with your kind of weirdness.

I’m making shifts, creating space, and purchased a book of blank pages to write the next chapter. I’m officially letting go of Letitgocoach, but continue to write. Letitgocoach became a name that others knew me by, but there’s no desire to fill those shoes. It was something I had to prove to myself that I could get certified and did, only to place another check mark on the ‘done’ list.

When I talk with people in my life today, they say, “Tell me about Barb’s world”, and I smile. I’ve been writing on that WordPress site, but want to share with you…I’m letting go of who I was thought to be, and to simply be. Thank you for your love and kind words of support through the years.

You are welcome to join me Inbarbsworld.

The Next Chapter

Worth the Risk

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Walking to the mailbox, notecards in hand, I slid them into the box. My hand reached over to the side, and pulled the red flag up so it’s standing straight up in the air. The mail lady will lower it when she replaces my mail with hers and I’ll know the mail has run for another day.

I sat at the kitchen table watching through the window as it rains, trying to focus on work but am soothed by the sound. When it was time for a break I snapped a photo of additional items used in letter writing. I’m mildly obsessed with this black tray with gold handles, so it worked well for photo purposes under cloudy skies and low light. Writing a letter goes back to what Dawn so eloquently stated in the first post.

We learn much about another person through a written letter. The penmanship, the color of the ink, type of writing instrument, stationary and even the stamp all are clues to the individuality of the writer.

Dawn from Aging With Grace

Find a piece of paper that feels good to write on, or make your own. One of my letters received was written on a piece of paper my friend turned into stationary using her artistic flair. Whatever type paper that feels good to you, choose it for your letter. Sometimes Dawn uses a fountain pen, but we’ve come to the conclusion I need more control than that offers. She uses a rubber stamp that imprints her address on the front of the envelope in a circle formation. We both write in cursive, but my choice of ink is purple, or teal. The majority of my writing papers, notecards and supplies come from a small, family owned company called Letter Seals.

Stamps for wax seals by Letter Seals.

We each have our own style and the fun part is finding it. Writing a letter is like having a one-sided conversation, but it feeds the heart like no other writing. For this writer it will always be worth the risk.

Previous posts in this little series:

  1. Write a Letter
  2. The Letter Opener
  3. Send Some Love

Send Some Love

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There’s no set schedule who to write to and when. Much like blogging, if something is on my heart to share, the letter is written. I received a call Friday night from a dear friend thanking me for the card. I didn’t know why she’d been so heavy on my heart and mind the last couple of weeks, but I dropped her a note in the mail. Little did I know she’s been recovering from Covid.

I don’t believe I’ve ever thrown a letter away. My sister and I would write to one another and I would keep her letters in a drawer of the console. As the enchantment with letter writing increased they required a space of their own. I remembered having this box that wasn’t being used for anything and saw it fitting for letters. As you can see, we’re going to need a bigger box.

In talking with Brian this week, I discovered he too loves to write letters. The name of his blog Is Writing From the Heart, which as heart writers, that’s what we do. Brian was doubting his penmanship which you can see here, but how you write isn’t the reason behind the letter. It’s in the message of what you wish to convey. It doesn’t matter how well crafted your handwriting is. You have to trust the words you send will be legible. A letter is to be written slowly, with ease and it’s not something to rush through.

Writing a letter is an opportunity to relax the mind and share from the heart. When I purchase a bigger box, it won’t need the word ‘love’ painted on it because from what I can see that’s what it will hold. Every envelope represents a sweet soul who took the time to send some love.

Previous posts in this series:

  1. Write a Letter
  2. The Letter Opener

Write a Letter

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There’s a sign hanging in my home that reveals my perspective has changed. It reads, “I am fairly certain given a cape and a nice tiara, I could save the world.” I no longer wish to save the world, but I do want to touch people’s lives and I’m perfectly content with one person at a time.

The day my daughter was loading up her Jeep with some of her belongings, she told me, “I want you to make this house look like your own.” Mostly, it already did, but I took her words to heart. Over the weekend, the coffee bar turned into a letter writing station because a couple of years ago, I published this blogpost and began writing letters. It’s simple, yet nothing compares to the joy it brings. This venture began with one letter to a fellow blogger and has expanded to touching hearts all over the world.

It reminds me of the pen pal relationships of the past. Strangers whose connection is based on their exchange of letters. In this case, we began to know each other through our blogs and now we do exchange letters. I am enjoying what I suppose, is a non-traditional friendship, in today’s world. We learn much about another person through a written letter. The penmanship, the color of the ink, type of writing instrument, stationary and even the stamp all are clues to the individuality of the writer.

Dawn of Aging With Grace

I’d never imagined by writing a letter to Dawn we’d be corresponding through snail mail for almost a year now and I’m grateful. My supplies outgrew their basket, hence the letter writing station. With everything out in view, I’m more apt to pause and ponder who needs some love. Then lean in to write a letter.

Here’s more on letter writing:

2. The Letter Opener

3. Send Some Love

4. Worth the Risk

5. Hope For It

Wait and See

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I schedule a haircut every 4 to 5 weeks, depending how quickly it grows. Looking online at my hairdressers availability she had several openings, but Tuesday at 10:00am felt right. I checked my schedule to see if that would work, but didn’t make the appointment immediately because the weather forecast was calling for a rainy weekend all the way through Tuesday.

My daughter has left the nest, but I still have her two dogs and they’re afraid of storms, so I was hesitant to leave the house for a haircut if that was the case. I decided to take a shower and start my day, but as I stepped out of the shower the thought, ‘Tuesday at 10’, came to mind. I decided to check and see if the haircut appointment was still available considering that’s the only ‘Tuesday at 10’ I’d thought about.

It’s difficult to have faith in meteorologists and I don’t coordinate my life around the forecast. Sometimes it’s best to take a look at the sky. It will tell you it’s story and always has one to tell. Storms are a stress factor for me. I don’t like thunder, lightning, high winds or torrential rains. My neighbor, Hercules sits on his front porch and enjoys watching the storm, while Barb is over here praying for God to calm it.

Texas has some mighty storms and I wasn’t excited over the possibility of more. I believe God knows my heart and knows how much I can handle. With all the changes that have occurred already this year, I was on edge toward anymore disruptions. I kept thanking Him for His plan which has a tendency to trump the forecast. I’ve seen it so many times before where no storm came even though it was in the forecast.

I scheduled the haircut appointment by faith. The salon is closed on Sunday and Monday, so I wouldn’t have adequate time to cancel the appointment if needed. On Monday it continued to rain, but it was gentle and I slept peacefully through Monday night. Tuesday morning I awoke to stillness and realized I’d be able to make my appointment because there was no storm. My hope for you is to put more faith in a greater plan. No matter what the world is predicting, faith overcomes fear and can weather any storm.

Trust and be willing to wait and see.

Through the Middle

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Standing by the kitchen window, watching the warm breeze move the giant Canna Lily leaves reminds me how life is made up of simple pleasures. A friend sent a Marco Polo asking to see the yard filled with flowers like last year, but this year I see more shade than bloom. I planted flowers late compared to most gardeners, and there’s a late night yard critter plowing their snout through the flower beds. Each morning I’d walk outside to assess how many flowers had been uprooted and cast aside.

This has been going on for months and I’m just trying to pass the test. The mornings are on repeat…put the flowers back in the ground, water them thoroughly, only to find a new path of destruction the next morning. I mentioned to Hercules, “I’m going to summon the cat’s on Third Street to take care of this villainous creature!” We had a good laugh, but then I realized summoning feral cats wouldn’t be a very good example of Spiritual maturity. Here’s a definition I heard recently…

“Spiritual maturity is suffering while waiting patiently with a good attitude while trusting God and continuing to be a blessing to other people.”

Joyce Meyer

We don’t grow when things are good.

This post was started in June when I was in the middle. The middle is when life puts us through the same type test continually with no end in sight, but this did end, and some good came of it, like less flowers to care for. This year I spent 15 minutes every few days caring for the yard, compared to an hour a day, sometimes twice a day, last year. Patience is not only the ability to wait, but how well we wait. The yard looks nothing like I planned, but all of the flowers in pots feed my soul. Keep showing up, expecting the best and make it through the middle.

Ride the Elephant

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I’m officially an empty nester. I’ve known since May my daughter was going to be living on her own, but it was daunting when she came to pick up some of her things to take to her new home. The next morning, I walked through the house and could see and feel the empty spaces.

One of my books for morning reading is Simple Abundance by Sarah Ban Breathnach. Recently, she wrote about her family vacationing years ago at a beach resort and one afternoon there was a surprise activity for the children: a ride on an elephant around the hotel parking lot. Her little girl was delirious with excitement and that night as she tucked her daughter in bed she said, “Some mornings you wake up not knowing what will happen during the day and you get to ride an elephant!”

Delirious with excitement. We were designed to be that way, but life can bury the child in all of us over years of trying to make it through the day. I don’t wish to simply make it through the day, but instead see what the day has to offer. The weekend is here and I purposefully didn’t make any plans. I want to leave plenty of space for these two days to unfold on their own. If I was sitting on a beach near a hotel with activities for a child, you know me well enough to know…I’d have to ride the elephant.

Photo by Geran de Klerk on Unsplash