can i get a witness

Thankful Thursday: Letters and lessons

There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear.
1 John 4:18

Not long ago, I received an email about CAN I GET A WITNESS, written by someone I interviewed a while back. The message was slathered in honey…on its surface, sweetness and light. But in the middle, I discovered a nasty surprise. Darkness. Veiled threats, poisonous innuendos…seeds of fear were scattered there.

Here, I confess that this is one of the reasons it’s taken me so long to write this memoir. I am deeply aware that there are (groups of) individuals who prefer certain things not be brought to light. They inspect every "jot and tittle," in search of errors, measure each word against their faith. Perhaps this clouds their perceptions of me and my project? Clearly so, from the tone of that letter.  

Lord knows, I’m only human. And as such, I make mistakes. Who am I, then, to pass judgment on anyone else? Or vice versa?

While CAN I GET A WITNESS touches on evangelical beliefs and practices, by no means do I intend it as a treatise on religion. Or a parable. I’m writing about my own experiences; draw from them what you will. 

I’ve said as much before–and often. But I’ll say it again this morning, for the person who sent that email, and for others of his ilk: I will listen respectfully when you express your opinions. In return, I’ll speak with integrity…and from a place of love. But know this: You hold no sway over my writing. And you hold no power over me.  Not now. Never again.

Free at last, free at last! Thank God almighty, I’m free at last.

2011: The year for Witness

We will open the book. Its pages are blank.
We are going to put words on them ourselves.
The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year’s Day.
~Edith Lovejoy Pierce

 

In 2009, Grace led me up Life’s highest peaks and guided me through its narrows. Then in 2010, I chose Joy as my traveling companion. [On a related note, I changed my blog name from Front Pages to A Joyful Noise.]  And now that we’ve turned the page on yet another year, I’ve got a new one-word mantra. Behold, that word is Witness.


Witness:  perceive, watch, mark, notice, observe, testify. See also: proof, confirmation, evidence.
 
Here’s what Witness looks like, at least for me: 


  1. Approach life with a sense of wide-eyed wonderment (my natural tendency).
  2. Actively observe the world and its inhabitants (as is my  wont).
  3. Find creative ways to record my observations. (Note to self: Keep writing implements, DSLR camera, and art supplies closeby.)
  4. Look for new opportunities to be of service.
  5. Deepen my meditation practice, including the art of mindfulness & being an inner witness.
  6. Produce tangible evidence of my writerly aspirations. My publishing dreams were first realized when my essay, "Luz," got accepted for inclusion in DEAR BULLY (Harper Collins, summer/fall 2011). And over the course of this past year, I’ve approached CAN I GET A WITNESS with increasing confidence. I realize that I don’t have any control over the reception it might receive in the publishing industry, nor in the larger world beyond that. But I’ve been nudged forward by my Nancy Drew adventures, and I’ve strengthened my storytelling abilities along the way. Also: visual person that I am, I’m inspired on a daily basis by this mock book cover (thanks again, Emjae). I can’t predict what any of this might mean — beyond the personal satisfaction that comes of finding my voice, of putting my story into words– but I believe with all my might that this will be the year for WITNESS.

Congregation of canaries (photo) via Getty Images


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The Impact of Truth on Story

Random thoughts on a Monday, or Two Examples of How Writing Truth Can Sometimes Prove More Challenging Than Fiction:

1) I’m working on an essay about bullying for a YA anthology. Maybe some of you are, as well? Even if my work isn’t selected for inclusion in the publication, it’s a dark story I kept secret for a very long time–one that makes me feel lighter for its retelling.

When I read the first segment of my story to a friend, she said “Wow,” which made me exceedingly glad. Who among us doesn’t want to tug on our readers’ emotional cord? Assuming you’re going about it honestly, that is. But when she asked, quite innocently, “Did that really happen,” well. My heart plummeted. In truth, I felt anguished by that question. At least initially. I realize that some situations are too horrible to even imagine, and to even contemplate the fact that some human beings are capable of such cruelty…well, it’s almost incomprehensible, isn’t it? And yet, there is a dark underbelly to human nature — ours and others’ — and powerful stories often reside in the intersection of those shadows.

2) I’ve uncovered another situation in which truth is stranger (and arguably less believable) than fiction. Turns out, the scandal I mentioned in this post received national attention at the time of its initial unfolding. This is important for at least two reasons: 1) I’ve got documentation that the rumors were true; and 2) I need to dig through the legal archives, to follow that part of my family story to its ultimate conclusion. Or beginning, depending on how you look at things.

So…I’m fueling my roadster for a trip to El Lay this week. And I’m girding my loins, because no matter how gratifying it is to solve these Nancy Drew mysteries, there’s usually an element of sadness and surprise. Also, I’m not one who likes to dwell in shadows, and yet here I am, delving into darkness once again. I’m not afraid, mind you, as I know the Light is with and within me, guiding me forward and protecting me always. Still, if it’s not to much to ask, I’d appreciate your keeping me in your thoughts.

P.S. Imagine that one of your main characters is named Eva, and that her preacher-husband calls her Eve. Now place her — and the beginnings of their relationship — in a city of refuge called Eden City. Do you suppose some editors might suggest you scale back the irony, so as to make the story more believable? It’s certainly possible. And yet…it’s the truth. Yet another reason I’m taking such care in documenting every possible element of my memoir.

Breathing lessons

I went to yoga class yesterday, to try to smooth out all the tensions that developed while I was away from my regular routine. Due to scheduling issues, I ended up in an ashtanga yoga class–way more intense than the classes I usually attend, and full of unfamiliar asanas (aka headstands and other upside-down poses). Shortly after the class began, I was feeling somewhat like that creature in Kafka’s Metamorphosis–out of sorts and inept. "I’m so not good at this," I told myself, as I toppled over for the umpteenth time.

God help me, I so wanted to quit! But the teacher kept inviting me to reposition myself and try again. And then, a voice spoke from somewhere deep inside, repeating of my favorite mantras, "Be the neutral witness, discerning without judgment." I won’t say I transformed immediately. I won’t say the poses came easily. But as I swatted away the inner chatter, I felt the knots begin to untangle, and my body eventually elevated itself into the correct position. Ong namo, guru dev namo. I bow to the teacher within.

I’m thinking about the lessons I learned in that yoga class and how I can apply them to my writing. After several weeks away from the keyboard, I’m a distance from my manuscript. I’m struggling to reacquaint myself with my writer’s voice, to find my place again on the page. I’m knotted up especially about how to approach the modern-day Nancy Drew segments–how shall I weave them into the past-tense story? Before I can move forward, I need to recenter myself. So I’m encouraging myself to breathe in awareness and acceptance of where I am now, releasing all judgments so I can relax and play.

Namaste, my friends. Here’s to another day of stretching toward the Light. xo