Because everyone loves a good story
When Distraction Outweighs Motivation
Did you make a resolution to tackle more creative endeavors this year? Write that book? Query that agent? Paint that picture? Compose that requiem? Solder that gigantic stained glass window for your second beach house?
The Usual Process
If so, then you know that the hardest part of a creative project is just getting started. But then comes the other hard part of continuing and the additional hard part of getting toward the end and the final hard part of finishing it. Basically, any creative endeavor is hard work from beginning to end. Rewarding and enjoyable, sure, but hard.
I’m not a painter or a stained-glasser. I’m just a writer, and not even a very noteworthy one at present. But my creative process probably looks a lot like yours, whatever your artistic passion. There’s the dry spell (interminable), the eventually glimmer of an idea (infinitesimal), the fight to find time and motivation to write those first few words, a wee bit of progress, the loss of steam, the slump where I consider trashing it all, and either the teeth-gritted determination to finish (phew!) or else the grinding to a halt of the whole hair-brained scheme (more likely).
A Better Motivation
I hope that sounds completely foreign to you and your exemplary work ethic. But if it sounds like someone you know—or someone you’ve been—then don’t lose heart. We’re all in the same boat from time to time. The good news is, we don’t have to keep paddling it up that self-defeating stream. We can turn the canoe around. Or jump ship. Or stop using the boat metaphor. Regardless, we can replace bad creative habits with good ones.
Yes, but how? To answer that question thoroughly and humorously, I offer to you this article from the Rabbit Room website. Writer and painter Kate Gaston describes how to tug against the resistance that slows our creative momentum. She describes the problem in a relatable way, gives an example of how she jumpstarted her motivation for painting, and ends with several ways to simply sit down and get to work. I know you’ll find it as helpful as I did!
Suggestions for Success
As a teaser, here are just a few of her suggestions: First of all, start with small, manageable goals. Like, teeny-tiny goals.
“Just like a bite-sized candy bar leaves our lizard brains ravenous for more sugar, tiny victories give our delicate egos a micro-dose sense of accomplishment. This, in turn, gives us courage and confidence to try again. Baby steps, y’all.”
Next, identify the time of day when you’re feeling most creative, and make a bit of time to work then.
“At first, you might only manage to carve out a scant amount of time. That’s okay. Like I said, sometimes it’s helpful to start with ridiculously achievable goals. Grab that low-hanging fruit, baby. The ten minutes you set aside for work today will be the kernel from which your productivity grows.”
Don’t forget to make your workspace attractive to you. Comfy chair? Stash of snacks? Good lighting? Do it all.
“Next, and this is a big one for me, woo yourself to the physical space…. Find all the things that trigger your brain toward creativity, and then unapologetically do them.”
And finally, give yourself a break sometimes.
“Rest, beauty, and time spent trustfully dwelling in the goodness of God fill us to the brim with the richness and soulfulness which enable us, in turn, to do that deep work we are called to do.”
So how about it, friends? Armed with the suggestions from Gaston’s article, will you join me in the fight against creative entropy? We may still lose a battle from time to time, but with our determination, we shall win the war.
“Introduction to Poetry” By Billy Collins
I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slideor press an ear against its hive.
I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,
or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author’s name on the shore.
But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.
Did you take a poetry class in college? Or maybe a literature class that included some poetry? If you did, I’m sure you can picture it as the setting of this poem: lots of opinions, confidence, and determination without the mellowing effects of age. Poor Collins.
Two Roads Diverged…
He says there are two common approaches to studying poetry: observation and interrogation. The first lets the poem speak for itself, and the other brutalizes the meaning out of it. If left to my own devices, I probably tend toward the latter. I like to dig deep and squeeze meaning out of every part (though not usually with a garden hose). While there’s nothing wrong with mining the depths of poetry, I think Collins is right—that may not be the best introduction to poetry.
The Better Path to Poetry
Instead, Collins wants us to discover truth and feel delight. His various examples invite us to approach a poem with the curiosity of a scientist or naturalist. He wants us to observe it, experience it, and let our senses explore it.
Most importantly, he reminds us to enjoy it! Feel the thrill of skimming across it quickly without sinking deep, deep, deep into syntax and nuance. There’s a place for that too, but not right away. The title of the poem, after all, is “Introduction to Poetry.” Delight should be the starting point of study.
If we’ve learned anything in our year of sampling poems on Past Watchful Dragons, let it be this: the first objective of poetry is to experience and enjoy. So journey forth on poetic explorations of your own, my friends! Just be sure to leave the hose and bring the water skis.
“Praise and Thanksgiving”: A Puritan Prayer
When you think of the puritans, what comes to your mind? Grim men in gold-buckled hats, and strict women who never smile? A group of religious fanatics who upended their lives and families to move to colonial America? That’s pretty much what I thought until I started reading their prayers.
The Valley of Vision
Years ago a dear pastor friend introduced me to a collection of puritan prayers called The Valley of Vision. Many of the men quoted were actual puritans living in America during the mid-1600’s. Others were born in the 1700’s but still lived according to the puritan tradition. In the 1970’s, an English minister researched, collected, and edited these prayers, publishing them in book form. What a gift to the world!
These prayers reveal depth of devotion, grief over sin, amazement about grace, and joy in God that is virtually unknown in our modern American churches. After all, how often are today’s first-world Christians (myself included!) uncomfortable enough to cling to Christ alone? In many ways, the puritans were stripped of everything but God, and they found Him to be more than enough.
A Prayer of Thanks
This Thanksgiving, whether we find ourselves in times of joy or sorrow, plenty or need, faith or doubt, may this excerpt from a puritan prayer remind us of a good God who lavishes us with blessings big and small. That’s something to be thankful for!
“Praise and Thanksgiving”
I bless thee for the soul thou hast created,
for adorning it, sanctifying it,
though it is fixed in barren soil;
for the body thou hast given me,
for preserving its strength and vigour,
for providing senses to enjoy delights,
for the ease and freedom of my limbs,
for hands, eyes, ears that do thy bidding,
for thy royal bounty providing my daily support,
for a full table and overflowing cup,
for appetite, taste, sweetness,
for social joys of relatives and friends,
for ability to serve others,
for a heart that feels sorrows and necessities,
for a mind to care for my fellow-men,
for opportunities of spreading happiness around,
for loved ones in the joys of heaven,
for my own expectation of seeing thee clearly.
I love thee above the powers of language to express,
for what thou art to thy creatures.
Increase my love, O my God, through time and eternity.
Amen
Happy Thanksgiving, friends!
Want to know more about how The Valley of Vision was collected and published? Check out this article.
My Best Piece of Parenting Wisdom
This week I had the privilege of sending a letter to a sweet friend who’s expecting her first baby. She and her husband are absolutely wonderful, and their families are fantastic. She’s the last person who really needs parenting advice from someone like me. Nevertheless, she asked for it, so I attempted it.
Thinking about wisdom to share made me realize how much I still have to grow as a mom. Of course I’ve picked up a few tidbits of what I should be doing, but actually doing it is another matter entirely. As the apostle Paul says, “For what I want to do, that I do not practice; but what I hate, that I do.”
That being said, the letter shares one bit of wisdom that I strive for every day. It goes against every fiber of my Type A personality, but I know it’s so worthwhile. I know my friend will get it right far more often than I do, but by God’s grace I’ll continue to grow as a mom for years to come.
So, without further ado, the letter:
Dear Friend,
Today is a normal day. I’ve wiped several booties, noses, and countertops. We’ve spent the morning wrestling through homeschool and enjoying Bible stories. I’ve broken up fights and offered gospel truth that seemed to go in one ear and out the other. We enjoyed fall sunshine beneath the same tall trees I walked under when I was their age. We navigated a handful of bad attitudes (half of them mine), and I know there will be plenty more before bedtime. Basically, my friend, motherhood is a mixed bag. It drags me through the seven stages of insanity and back again. Every. Single. Day.
That’s why I feel like the least qualified person to offer parenting advice to you, especially since you’re surrounded by so many wonderful examples. God has given you the most fabulous family and church. He’s also given you a kind heart, deep love, and wisdom beyond your years. Your sweet boy will already have it made in the shade!
But you did ask for advice, so I’ll try to crystalize my whopping six-and-a-half years of experience into something shareable. Here it is—my big truth bomb:
DO less. BE more.
This isn’t new or earth-shattering. I’m sure you’ve had several moms tell you some variation on this theme already. But I know why—it’s because it’s so important and so, SO, SO hard.
It’s true that there are plenty of things that won’t get done unless you do them. But it’s also true that some of those things may not need to be done right now…or at all! That’s a hard pill to swallow for an overachiever, but it’s the truth. Sometimes “good enough” really is good enough.
Moms are great, but they’re not God. They don’t have to hold the universe together.
What your kids will really value is knowing that you enjoy spending time with them. Nothing too earth-shattering. Just being together. When I crawl into bed at night and think back on my day, the times that bring me the most satisfaction aren’t the times I get a lot done. I’m most satisfied when I’ve spent just being with them. Kids thrive on getting messy, playing in water, and being read to. Sounds simple, but it takes great force of will to set aside the to-do list and simply be.
Most days as a mom, I feel like I’m barely scraping by with a C- and a few A- moments sprinkled in. I know you’ll do much better. But if you ever need a small reminder from this mama, just do less and be more. The rest will get done eventually.
Love you, my friend, and I’m so excited for the future of your sweet, sweet family!!
All my love,
Emily
“Earth’s Crammed with Heaven” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
According to Elizabeth Barrett Browning, there are two kinds of people in the world: those who see and those who don’t. We all enjoy the same universe around us, but our reactions depend on whether or not we see God’s signature in the mundane.
Earth’s crammed with heaven
And every common bush afire with God;
But only he who sees, takes off his shoes—
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries,
And daub their natural faces unaware
More and more from the first similitude.
First, I want to savor a moment of sheer craftsmanship. What beautiful, vivid, allusive, thought-provoking lines. Every word pulls its weight. Every allusion enriches the meaning. This right here exemplifies why poetry is so great: a few sentences can communicate pages of meaning. It’s crystalized content. Bravo, Mrs. Browning!
So yes, it’s lovely and wonderful, but let’s take a quick peek at what on earth she’s talking about.
Crammed with Heaven
Browning’s famous lines are taken from her long book in verse called Aurora Leigh. I haven’t read the whole thing myself, but I did find it helpful to read the larger context around this quotation. Her narrator has been asserting that all of creation is two-fold: it’s equal parts physical and spiritual. To divide the parts or try to enjoy one without the other is foolish and even fatal. The beauty of the physical comes from the significance endowed by the spiritual.
Browning wasn’t proposing transcendental theology. She believed the Bible and was merely echoing God’s truth from verses like Romans 1:20: “For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.” Creation and eternity are inextricably linked.
Burning Bushes and Blackberries
Like the apostle Paul in Romans 1, Browning bemoans the human tendency to ignore the divine source of the world’s wonder. The burning bush, as you no doubt guessed, is an allusion to Moses in the Old Testament. Moses was minding his own business one day when he saw a flaming bush that didn’t burn up. The presence of God spoke to him from the bush, telling him to take off his shoes because he was on holy ground. A common bush communicated the presence of God Almighty.
While God doesn’t usually catch our attention through combusting shrubbery these days, his presence is just as palpable for those who have eyes to see. As for the rest of us, the bush may be burning, but we don’t notice. God may be speaking, but we don’t hear. All we see is a physical reality to satisfy a physical desire. We ignore the flames and pick the blackberries.
The Last Two Lines
The last two lines don’t usually get included in the quotation, and you can kind of see why. They seem odd, almost like they don’t belong. But we can’t, in good conscience, stop the quote at a comma; it’s against literary law. Browning intended us to puzzle through her final lines in order to make sense of the whole. Ergo, here are my best hypotheses based on two connotations of the word “daub.”
Moses’ Veil
First, daub means to paint thickly and inexpertly—in other words, to cover with a layer of paint. Since this part of her poem has been about Moses, I thought Browning could be using another Moses story as a contrast. She may be alluding to the way Moses covered his face with a veil after being with God (Exodus 34). God is so glorious that Moses’ face was painfully bright just because he’d spent time in God’s presence. Afterward, he wore a veil to spare the retinas of the Israelites.
Knowing this, Browning could be condemning the way we cover our faces to mar our likeness to the Creator. Genesis 1:27 says, “So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them…” Yet even in Browning’s day, there were many who were “unaware” of that “first similitude” or likeness. Rather than finding God’s fingerprints on their faces and in their hearts, they would “daub” their natures. Those who ignore the image of God in their lives cover their faces, but not with a veil as Moses did. They cover them to obscure the image of God within.
Forbidden Fruit
But—here’s the zinger—daub can also mean to cover with a dirty or sticky substance. The picture of foolish people sitting around a holy bush, cramming their mouths with fruit, brings another Bible story to mind, doesn’t it? In the Garden of Eden, God was with Adam and Eve. They were quite literally in his presence. But when they chose to disobey him by eating fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, they broke fellowship and brought death.
I can picture their mouths dripping with the bloody juices of the fruit like Denethor’s tomato in the Lord of the Rings movie. When Adam and Eve heard God coming, did they “daub” or dab at the sticky evidence in hopes of wiping away the guilt? The image of God was marred, but the guilt remained.
And we, in our foolish pride, ignore God’s holy presence. All creation proclaims His name, but only those who hear will respond. Otherwise, we’ll eat the forbidden fruit and try to wipe our mouths clean, unaware of the “first similitude,” or how much we look like our first forebearers.
What’s Your Take?
And this is the beauty of poetry. A few well-phrased allusions can pack so much meaning. It takes some of the magic out of it to parse and dissect it like this, but sometimes it helps to see each truth laid out clearly. It leaves me with much to ponder, and I hope you feel the same!
I wonder which interpretation of the last two lines seems likelier to you. Do you think Browning intended us to see one of those allusions rather than the other? Or do you think she left it obscure in order to allude to both? Either way, I hope this poem helps us all to be more alert for “burning bushes” around us. The presence of God is often in the mundane.
Masterful Poems: “Pied Beauty”
“Glory be to God for dappled things.”
So begins a poem of praise by my favorite poet, Gerard Manley Hopkins. This little two-stanza gem packs plenty of power in fewer than a dozen lines. Hopkins uses rich descriptions in such a short space that reading it takes a moment but savoring it takes much longer. Won’t you savor it with me?
A Brief Bit of Backstory
In Victorian England, the young Hopkins vowed to become a Jesuit priest. This was a very strict sect of the priesthood, and Hopkins devoted himself to it completely. While his duties included quite a bit of academics (he took and taught many classes throughout his short life), he also had time to take in the beauty of the Irish countryside around him. For this artist, reflection led to verse. His poems are replete with snapshots of God’s creation, from birds and sunsets to a celebration of God’s creativity in general. That’s what this poem is about.
“Pied Beauty”
Glory be to God for dappled things –
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.
Beauty in Variety
Oh, friends. These descriptions melt my heart. First of all, savor the images of beauty. Hopkins celebrates the uniqueness of pink freckles on a fish and a sky streaked with fine wisps of cloud. (In fact, look up images for “brinded,” won’t you? You’ll know just the kind of clouds he has in mind.)
As he looks around him, the blaze of auburn from a fallen chestnut, the flash of vibrant yellow from a finch’s wing, and the rolling patchwork quilt of farmland draw his eye. Not unlike Walt Whitman, Hopkins finds fodder for interest even in the “gear, tackle, and trim” of everyday laborers. The uniqueness of each calling and duty impresses him with the creativity of the One who made such a world.
Everyday Wonderful
But Hopkins isn’t just luckier than thou; we’re all surrounded by everyday beauty. We may not get to roam in a rural Irish landscape, but I truly believe that beauty is everywhere for those who seek it. Even the beauty that Hopkins celebrates is fairly prosaic, really: sky, fish, nuts, birds, land, tools. But he follows the beauty up to its Source and is duly amazed that all this variety comes from one Maker. His observations lead to praise.
When I moved from Michigan to deep south Texas for a while, the landscape was completely different. Many people have a hard time finding beauty in the flat, dusty, parched terrain. But I was ready to love it, so God showed me plenty to love: cactus in bloom; spindly, swaying palms; blazing sunsets; tiny lizards (even if they were in the bathtub); crashing ocean waves; verdant fields of sugar cane; flocks of parrots overhead; and sizzling, savory tacos. Oh, praise God for those tacos. Amen and amen.
Beauty is there for those who have their eyes (and mouths) open.
Beauty Past Change
We see that nature’s scope and variety spring forth from a God whose beauty encompasses all we see and more. For this he is worthy of praise! But that’s not the only application Hopkins draws here. He also directs our attention to the truth that God’s beauty is “past change.” Let me confess that until I started writing this, I wasn’t sure why Hopkins chose to describe God’s beauty this way. Usually we think of beauty as past description or comparison, but not past change.
Then I realized he was pointing us to James 1:17.
“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”
God’s infinite fecundity fathers forth every good and perfect gift—the unimaginable variety of life—and yet he is beyond variation. He makes all things “swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim,” and yet he will never have a momentary flicker of shadow due to change. The God who made the surprising contradictions of nature will never surprise us by contradicting his own character. The Father of lights can have no shadow. This is great news indeed! Praise him!
Take a Hike
I had hoped to wax eloquent upon the poem’s masterful composition, but I’m afraid it would take too long. I’d like to dwell on the vocabulary, rhyme scheme, imagery, and all his lovely consonance, assonance, and alliteration, but I don’t want to trespass on your time. Suffice it to say that his craftsmanship impresses me as much as his content.
But instead of sitting here reading about things I find beautiful, may I humbly suggest that you take a hike? It’s spring, and I can’t get enough of the outdoors. Even as I write this I’m surrounded by grass, trees, and flowers (and also pollen) on my back patio. So go ahead—take a hike and praise the One who fathers forth all that variety.
Source:
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44399/pied-beauty
“Passing and Glassing” by Christina Rossetti
This year, my birthday was on Mother’s Day. It was a lovely day celebrating with family, and I felt doubly spoiled. But it was also a double whammy—a reminder that having kids later in life is like getting hooked up to the “machine of death” in The Princess Bride. Every day the energy and vitality get sucked out of my body at exponential speed. If only someone could bring me a Miracle Max pill.
Of course I’m being (mostly) facetious. And I won’t lie—there are times I miss what I looked and felt like 20 years ago. But would I trade what I have today for a tighter body and smoother skin? Not in a million years. Growing older is a gift, growing with family and friends around me is a blessing, and growing in love for God is priceless.
“Passing and Glassing”
Given my recent reflections, Christina Rossetti’s poem felt apropos as it examines aging from a woman’s perspective. Rossetti published it in 1881, but the sentiments are just as true today. See if you relate more to the feeling in the first or second stanza.
Stanza One: The Sad Reality
“All things that pass [away]/ are woman’s looking glass.” What a sad but accurate observation. All around us, life is falling prey to entropy. Flowers, fruit, and even a woman’s own reflection creep, moment by moment, toward decay. This reality reminds women that their loveliness is fleeting. The joy they have in the beauty and vitality of youth have an expiration date, and it’s fast approaching. Like Captain Hook, they can’t escape the ticking of the clock.
Stanza Two: A Note of Hope
“Tiring-glass” is another name for the mirror in a dressing room, and I think the word “tiring” does double duty by reminding the reader of the process of wearing down. Rossetti symbolizes this in the dead flowers on the woman’s dressing room table. But this stanza begins to introduce an aspect of comfort as well: old lavender and violets, though dried and faded, are still treasured. They are chosen, kept, and cared for. Time has not diminished their value or their sweetness. If she applies this truth to her own heart, a woman can choose comfort over despair.
Stanza Three: A Chance to Choose
Rossetti begins the final stanza by drawing attention to a crucial aspect of aging well: wisdom. Unlike aging itself, wisdom is rare. Rossetti contrasts two ways to spend life: brimful of hope and goodness or brimful of fear and ill (or harm). If a woman chooses to age with grace, there is still much to hope for as the years go by. If, however, she fears change and vilifies aging, she’ll work ill to herself and have nothing good to show for it.
The outcome is up to her own “work and will.” If she seeks wisdom from the fallen flowers, she’ll see that all has faded yesterday, all is fading today, and all will fade tomorrow. There’s no way around it. But despite the faded exterior, the value of the flower—and the woman—can become even richer with time.
Be Counter-Cultural
Our anti-aging obsession is nothing new; people have been seeking the fountain of youth since time began. Unfortunately, the recent Botox and lip filler craze may turn a generation of otherwise-lovely women into an row of grotesque dolls. If today’s pictures don’t scare our future grandchildren, I don’t know what will. Ladies, it doesn’t have to be this way.
To age is inevitable; to age gracefully is a choice. In our shallow, toxic culture, aging gracefully is a fight, but it’s a fight well worth waging. Rather than seeking an unchanging face, we have the privilege of seeking a beautiful soul. As we age, may our hearts grow more beautiful with each passing day, remembering that dried flowers are just as sweet.
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