It's a Long Road from Insight to Change

No posts since June 9. Hmmm. Where is the fervor with which I started this blog? Granted, I'm still thinking blogically. Several ideas have presented themselves. One has lingered and taken shape in my Quiet Time. I'll need a bit of courage to post it, because the topic lays me bare and challenges me to change - not my favorite activity in life.

So here goes.

In the main women’s restroom at my workplace, there are three sinks for hand washing. My habit is to use the one on the right, closest to the paper towel dispenser. To understand this story properly, you must know that the faucets operate by motion sensors. Place your hands under the spigot and voila! The water magically emerges. (My habituation to this phenomenon has led to numerous semi-embarrassing moments in public restrooms whose faucets do not automatically dispense water, as I place my hands under the spigot and wait and wait, until I remember to turn the water on.)

Enough for background information. About two weeks ago, the fixture on Sink #3 (reading left to right) became totally inoperable. I can place my hands under the spigot for however long I want, but the water never comes forth. Now, you’d think I’d remember this and choose Sink #1 or Sink #2, but habit motivates my behavior more than I care to admit. And more often than not, I head straight for Sink #3, cup my hands, and wait in vain.

As I was pondering this development, I realized it is a snapshot of another habit I’m struggling with. I’m addicted to the TV. One of the manifestations of this addiction is that I can sit on my couch for large chunks of time, remote in hand, flipping from channel to channel, trying to find a program of interest. At the end of each such session, I’m faced with the truth that I’ve watched nothing. Nothing comes forth from the TV to satisfy whatever need has led me to it. Nothing.

You’d think I’d catch on. You’d think I’d cease-and-desist from a behavior that has no payoff. No water, choose a different sink. No emotional or spiritual reward – put down the remote and turn the TV off. Well, actually, that’s not the parallel action, is it? No reward – don’t turn on the TV.

Unfortunately - so far - the insight afforded by this analogy has not produced significant or lasting behavioral change in either the hand-washing or the TV-watching venues. But fortunately I have a resource in my Abba-Father, whose influence goes well beyond my own ability to alter conduct.

"Kaleidoscope - The Lord of the universe transforms broken pieces of glass into images of infinite beauty and colorful delight." I've placed the emphasis on the broken pieces in this writing. But my focus remains fixed on the Lord of the universe. I have consummate confidence in His desire and ability to perfect the transformation of this image - little by little. Find hope and encouragement here, Nancy, and remember to laugh.

Hmmmmmmm...

Here’s a strange phenomenon.

My wireless mouse, my cell phone, my cordless land phone, and my TV remote all resemble each other. A lot.

My motif is black with silver trim, and I didn’t even plan them all to match. The mouse and land phone were gifts from my oldest daughter. The remote was donated by my youngest daughter. My cell is so old, it’s just a few centimeters shy of being as fat as the mouse (think 3-year-old Samsung flip up).

So far, I have tried to move my cursor with my cell phone, and I once tried to answer my mouse. I guess my confusion may arise from the fact that I keep them beside me, as I sit on my couch with my laptop on my lap (where else?).

You see, I spend much of my time at home as follows: typing my conversations with God, writing blogs, reading blogs, reading the Bible (though not as much as I should, which I must confess, lest I have to write an apology post for trying to make myself sound more spiritually-disciplined than I am), reading my current novel, watching TV, and not watching TV – the pastimes I carefully weave into the weekday evenings and weekend morning-to-afternoon tapestries of my life.

But in my own defense, so far, I haven’t tried to mute my TV with my cordless, though it does have a mute key. And I haven’t tried to answer my remote, though I do talk to my TV.

Is there any hope for me? Is this phenomenon an early sign of Alzheimer’s? Should I purchase a pet? One I can train to discern the subtle differences among my small battery-driven devices?

As I travel further along in blogdom, I’m no longer waking up at 4:00 AM thinking about what I will write, but for a while, I will continue to play with a silly idea and see how it turns out. It’s my blog, after all. I can make up my own rules.

NG

Blogging Overtakes My Thoughts

This is Day Twelve of my blog. I've now told family and friends about it. And I've received some encouraging remarks. One comment came by e-mail from a friend who didn't post it, but I'm going to repeat it anyway because it make me laugh: "I have read your blog. I like your blog. I expect to continue to read your blog. Don't you just love to write and say blog?" (Yes, I do.)

Pretty soon, I may stop thinking about my blog and talking about it so much, and I may start instead to post more entries. That would be the point, actually. So this post is just a few more remarks about blogging, and then maybe I'll get the topic out of my system (no promises).

I've found recently during my stream-of-consciousness string of thoughts I often stop and wonder whether a particular thought is blog-worthy. I begin to rephrase in my mind how I would say it on my blog. I mull it over and over, not just as a thought, an idea, or an internal conversation, but I examine it for Kaleidoscopic possibilities.

Now, I've always been a proponent of all those Wonderful Suggestions to People Who Aspire to Become Real Writers. One such recommendation that I've never incorporated into my everyday life is to carry around a notebook where I could jot down ideas. Not consistently, at least. So now, I'm going to do it. Do you believe me? I'm trying to believe me. I even have one in my purse. I even wrote down something in it during breakfast. That's a start - for this season.

And I'm trying to decide how or whether to add my poems (at least some of them) to my blog. I guess I can make up my own rules. It's my blog, after all. I'll have to see if I can archive them immediately in a section all their own. They like being together. And I think current posts should reflect current writings. I don't know why I think that, though. It's my blog, after all. I can make up my own rules.

NG

Adventures in Blogdom

Okay, so last night I woke up at 4:00, unable to go back to sleep for all the blogthoughts that raced through my head. Who's going to read what I write? What topics are okay for me to write about and which ones should I keep undercover? Should I write about the silly thoughts that come to me day after day, or is this a Serious Blog? Kaleidoscope - Find hope and encouragement here, I say. Is that too pretentious, too self-absorbed? Can I write fluffy stuff here? On the other hand, if The World comes to my blog, do I want just anyone knowing my deepest fears and longings?

When I mentioned the 4:00 AM insomniac episode to my 8 year old grandson this morning, commenting that I wasn't sure what I should write about, he suggested, "I really, really love potato chips." I countered, "That would be great, except I don't love potato chips. But can I quote you on my blog?" I hope he said yes. He's a computer savvy kid (besides being fond of potato chips). I expect he'll find my blog. I saved it as a favorite on his mother's computer on Mother's Day. She found it yesterday and became my first Follower. See her picture?

Aside to my other three children: No sibling squabbling, now. Daughter #1 just means she was born first. She'll tell the rest of you how to get on board. Of course, you can probably figure it out for yourselves, too.

First Daughter asked me last evening why I hadn't e-mailed all my friends and family with the link to Kaleidoscope. "Are you shy?" she asked. I don't think so, not if waking up at night thinking about what I will say is any indication. But then, why haven't I told more people? (Refer to Second Reflections for more thoughts on this topic.)

Creating the blog has actually given me new impetus to write. (More on this later... sometime... maybe.)

But here's another blog-barrier. I'm still figuring out blogquette. For instance, I've noticed some of my writer friends with Blogspots appear desirous of remaining anonymous. No real names. No real pictures. So am I allowed to refer to them by their real names when I leave comments, or when I write about them here? Some - on the other hand - have real names and many pictures adorning their pages. I certainly don't want to be blogically incorrect.

My mind is fried. My eyes sting. I am sleepy. (Duh!)