Get in the Game

About the same time each year, soccer invades my life.  So, last night while I watched my middle daughter play her first game of the season--voice going hoarse from cheering and bum going numb in the stands--I noticed something interesting.  They all wanted the ball.

Okay, so nothing new, right?  Kids are kids, after all.  Running in a clump is what they do when playing sports.  Well that, and stealing the ball from their own teammates.

But, that wasn't the interesting part (entertaining, yes, but not my point).  Which is what, you ask?  No one was playing their position.  And you know what?  That left three quarters of the field wide open.  If just one had broken away, shouted for someone to give them the ball and received a pass?  Boom.  That kid would've been long gone down the field.  So far ahead of the pack, no one would've been able to catch her.  Guaranteed goal.

Life's a little like that, isn't it?

We often run in packs.  Feel safer in the numbers.  Like to blend in.  Spend so much time running in the clump, that we forget about the rest of the field.  About what's out there for us if we'd only just stretch our legs and explore the terrain.  But, breaking away is scary.  And hard.  It takes real effort to step away and go exploring.  To be unafraid to make mistakes.

Hmm, yeah. . .mistakes.  No one wants to make them.  But, hey, mistakes help us learn.  And learning is a part of the game.  There isn't an explorer anywhere--past or present--who hasn't encourntered pitfalls, tumbled into situations beyond their control and had to think fast (become creative) to work their way out.

Sure, it's safer in the group. . .where we rarely make mistakes.  Never have to step outside our comfort zone, try news things or push ourselves up the field into the scary 'unknown'.  But, the same old, same old isn't where the action's at.  Success comes when you play your position.  In other words. . .to your strengths, to the rare uniqueness that is You.  No one can achieve in the same the way you can, because there isn't another person alive like You.

I remind myself of this when a new challenge scares me.  Or when an old one suddenly throws up barriers that make me want to run the other way. . .back to the safey of the group.  When that happens, I pop some M&Ms (comfort food is a necessity in the game called Life), tighen up my clets, take a deep breath and push ahead.  There is a solution for every problem I encounter. . .up, over, around, under. . .whatever.  I simply have to be brave to explore the possiblities and find the one that best suits me.

So, be fearless.  Jump into the game and head down the field.  I think you'll be surprised how fast the goal posts arrive when you settle into the position you were made to play.

Nine Rounds and Counting

Okay, so I've been AWOL these last couple of weeks.  Sorry. Sorry. Really sorry, but I have a good excuse. . .honestly.


I got distracted.  Became possessed (in the best possible way, of course).


Yup, that's right.  I've been totally thrown over by my WIP (work in progress in author-speak). The sucker just took over, and is still running my life.  


Hallejuah! I love it when a plan comes together. And my muse shows up with boxing gloves.
  
Getting beat up by her is a pleasure. Really. Because all kinds of cool things start to happen. Exciting stuff that makes me lace up my gloves too and give equal measure as I go round after round with the story in my head. And yeah, you guess it.  I'm taking the beating. . .happily. Being knocked around the creative ring just feels so damn good. Muscles get stretched. Skills are sharpened. Plot kinks suddenly disappear, are ironed out or twist themselves straight.


And that got me thinking.


What's so different right now? Has my life become less busy? No. In fact, it's crazier than ever. So, where is the get-up-and-go coming from. . .my muse? Does she really run the show, decide when to show up and smack the crap out of me? You know, somehow, I don't think so. She's way to fickle for that.  Puncutality isn't her forte, and no matter how much she loves to lay the boots to me, well. . .let's just say, it's always on her terms. 


So, I asked myself. . .what the heck is going on?  


Answer?


I'm showing up. Every day. With such mind-blowing regularity that my muse knows exactly where to find me. And when. The more consistent I am, the more reliable--and faithful--she becomes, because I'm feeding her (extra large cafe au laits, along with all kinds of chocolate goodies. All right, don't look surprised. You know I can't resist mentioning my obsession). Each session trains her to come when I call.  Not when she feels like it.


It's magic.


So, excuse me while I lace up and put my mouth guard in.  The bell is ringing.  Time for another round.

English Teacher Harassed For Being Erotica Author

Awesome video, much?  Not only is the guy a fast talker (which I happen to love), he defends someone who's hobby he doesn't necessily agree with. . .and makes some excellent points along the way.

Well worth the watch.  Enjoy everyone!



Happy Monday everyone!