Pen in Motion

Disclaimer: “mostly free write” means that I corrected typing/grammatical/spelling errors

I think things are changing and I’m not quite ready. But who ever is? Who sees change charging down the path like a Clydesdale on steroids and says “hooray – I was hoping this would happen”?

But I also want the change. I used to joke that my Native blood kept me restless – since my people (Pawnee) were nomadic, then it was in my nature to be also. Kind of like my fascination with buffalo. I think they are beautiful and majestic and unique. I can see a picture of painting of a buffalo from across a room and I will make a beeline for it. Maybe I just like bison, but I also like to think it’s something in me…my Native-ness that pulls me to these animals.

So I want the change, but not quickly and all at once and right away. I want a few more days in my comfort zone. I thought I had shaken its bonds loose a week ago, but I can feel myself being drawn back.

My zone has a person. It’s a he. We’re not “together” now. Used to be, and it was wonderful and painful and weird (good way) and stressful. Now we’re just friends, but he calls us peas in a nutshell (since peas share the pod with other peas and we are unique to each other). I want away. I want to stay. (I greatly dislike rhyming). I want to not feel like I am going to miss him when he goes home after a night of chili and Clue.

I think change is coming mostly because I feel the space between us. It’s kind of exciting, but I also cringe to think of being somewhere where he isn’t.

Done for now.

I’ve been terrible with not posting. I miss this space and how I can dump anything here and not be (openly) judged. I appreciate that you are out there and reading my rants and actually liking some of them. Thank you. I’ll be better with this.

Remember when life was simple

and all we did was enjoy our freedom,

churning our muscles

and begging the wind to give chase.

You were so beautiful in your fury and glory,

matted sweat and thick blood

from centuries of warriors crowding

to give life to your heart.

Too much time away from

dirt and clay beneath your feet

has tamed you.

Forget your civilized self

and let the stars lead you home.

Ever have to choose

between two of your favorite desserts?

They’re almost the same thing –

cake pops and store bought birthday cake.

Both make you feel so great

when you have them.

You want both, crave both.

They’re almost the same,

but the cake pops make you bare your soul,

know your heart,

and can sense the slightest change

in your voice.

The other one has potential and is nice.

So nice.

But it doesn’t know your soul

like the cake pops do.

But it also hasn’t broken your heart

and put you through

months of emotional turmoil.

The birthday cake is just really nice,

and really stable.

But it doesn’t sing your tune and know your heart.

But it could, if you gave it a chance.

Everyone likes birthday cake,

especially you.

But you love cake pops.

And you can only have one dessert.

Have you ever just wanted to sit down and start typing without really thinking about what would come out and how it would sound? Ever wish you could turn off the part of your brain that wants to censor your words and just lay it out. Bare. Cold. Hard. Just there.

I’m trying to do that now and wow it is not easy. I joke that I have the editor button in my head that is stuck “on” and I don’t know how to turn it off. Sometimes I wish I could read a text or an email from someone without noticing the errors. I think I would like the world a little better if I didn’t pick up on everyone who can’t seem to figure out the your/you’re conundrum.

I am probably one of the few people who likes Grammarly. I turn it into this weird contest of trying to type without seeing that little circle turn red. I hate seeing the red. If I think about it too much, I might realize that it’s part of some sickness or emotional issue where I am trying to be good enough. Good enough for Grammarly. Good enough at writing that I convince myself I am good enough in general. Or maybe I think too much and it’s just a stupid red circle and I need to get out more.

I feel like I am this odd bird who wants company, but also doesn’t want to give up my solace. I don’t want to give up my time and go through the sordid ordeal of opening up just so some other jerk can – I stopped because WordPress probably doesn’t like foul language. Dating sucks. There.

I’m not so resilient anymore. I should probably just give up, but sometimes my phone’s silence is just too annoying.

So yeah, bare. Good times, right?

I’ve been thinking about hope a lot lately – partially because of Christmas and partially because of Star Wars. And also, because of a comment a friend made while we discussed Star Wars (before opening night) – when I asked his feelings in regard to The Last Jedi, his response stuck in my head: “I am doggedly hopeful.”

Doggedly hopeful.

In the week leading up to Star Wars, I heard “hope” discussed by my pastor at church, the radio DJ, and my friend (regarding the movie). And then we saw Star Wars – among the other themes of the movie, one constant undercurrent was dogged hopefulness…the unwillingness of Rey to abandon any of the people who seemed hopeless resounded in me (and my apologies for any spoilers).

As I mentally chewed on the movie (as I often do with movies – the curse/blessing of being a writer), I remembered my friend’s comment. Ever the wordsmith, I turned to my thesaurus to do some study on both “dogged” and “hope.”

Hope (noun): belief, ambition, anticipation, desire, confidence, faith, optimism, promise, reliance

Hope (verb): anticipate, believe, cherish, expect, aspire, await, foresee, pray, rely, trust, hang in, have faith

Dogged (verb): persistent, determined, relentless, resolute, steadfast, stubborn, tenacious, firm, steady, obstinate

When I looked over the words listed in the thesaurus, I only saw “wish” once. But the other words (anticipation, confidence, reliance, belief)seemed to drown out that one. Hope is not about blind wishing – it’s far more powerful than that. Hope is a well of strength.

In one of the last scenes in Star Wars, Cameron Poe galvanizes the diminished band of Resistant fighters to not give up: “we are the spark <of hope> that will light the fire that will burn down the Fire Order.”

At that point, they didn’t need a blazing bonfire…they just needed a spark. They needed to be reminded that they still had strength. They needed the reminder of hope.

Especially during this season of my life, when the things I want to be happening don’t seem to be happening, I have needed to be doggedly hopeful. I have needed to staunchly persist in my belief that God will fulfill His promise. Like the fighters, I have needed to know that the end is not the end.

My advice? The end is not the end. Just think of that kitten on the wire and hang in there.

This is something a bit different for me as it doesn’t generally cross my mind to discuss/review movies on my blog. I have opinions, of course, but I have previously viewed what I post here to lean more literary than pop culture. But change is good sometimes, right? And there are certainly spoilers ahead.

Jumping right in: “The Man Who Invented Christmas” is the story of the writing of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens – from the initial inception of the story to the creation of the title character and everything that goes with him. Dickens financed the publication of his book since his publishers didn’t believe they could have the book available in less than 6 weeks for purchase by Christmas.

What enthralled me about this movie had less to do with the story and more to do with the portrayal of Dickens’ process in writing A Christmas Carol. As a creative writer, I have similar process; and my characters are not names on a page, but real people with real personalities and voices. Watching Dickens become wrapped up in his work was almost like watching myself on a movie screen. I understood his exuberance at finally naming Scrooge, and then smiled as he turned and saw the manifestation of his character. These were all experiences with which I could completely relate.

And then Dickens’ father came into the story, and again, I could relate. I know what it’s like to be so utterly disappointed/abandoned/betrayed by one of two people in the world who should never be the source of abandonment or betrayal – parents. In the movie, the father is a thorn in the writer’s side, a constant irritation and festering wound that had never fully healed. I hurt for the character (Dickens) and support his icy attitude towards his father/parents. As a writer (and knowing the plot of A Christmas Carol), I knew that there would have to be resolution to the rift between father and son. But I didn’t want Dickens to have to apologize, but rather the father come to his senses and beg his son’s forgiveness for the lifetime of hardship and betrayal. And yet, that’s not how it happened. I will stop now before giving away too much of the movie, but the happy ending happens because of Dickens’ change of heart. He redeems his wretched book character even as he redeems himself.

I knew that my issue with the father character had to do with my still unresolved hurt with my own father. After a few days of mentally chewing on the movie, I finally allowed God to show me what I need to see: there will be people in our lives that we must show mercy to because it is the only way we will be able to deal with them. The mercy isn’t completely for those people, but also for us – because if we hold on to the hurt, it will be a poison that will kill our joy. Mercy isn’t just the best option, but sometimes it’s the only option.

Side Note: There is a comment from one of my writing books that I enjoy quoting, even though I don’t remember the book title or author’s name: A writer has been successful is he/she has made the reader care. Even if the work you read makes you angry, the writer has succeeded if his/her work has caused you to react emotionally.

Well, I certainly reacted emotionally to this movie, producing both positive and negative emotions. And I was still thinking about the movie hours/days after leaving the theater. The story of this movie not only elicited an emotional response, but also caused a fair amount of introspective thinking.

Brett Lot states that all literature (regardless of the medium) should “give the reader back to himself.” And in a way, that is what the script did for me.

I had a recent experience with a former suitor (not quite a boyfriend, but almost 2 months of dating) that has left me annoyed and a little hurt. And also contemplative.

Said person re-entered my life after about 7 months of silence. He supposedly just wanted to be friends because he was still wounded from his divorce. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, but he missed talking to and hanging out with me. And then an ex-girlfriend called, and suddenly his status changed. And we also couldn’t be friends anymore. Awesome.

I won’t go into the a lot of details of the first go-round with the suitor, but our relationship/thing ended because he was abducted by aliens and forced to give up his cell phone and laptop and not allowed to responded to any messages. That sounds more fun than the truth. And yet, I forgave him and agreed to be friends. I was okay with him not wanting to date because I didn’t trust him that much yet. But he flirted and it was nice. And then came 4 days of silence, and then I was done. Again.

There was also the sense of rejection that has left me smarting somewhat. I didn’t want to date him again, but it still stung that he didn’t want to date me. He was open to being in a relationship, but not with me.

And once again, I was disposable. That’s the part that bugs me the most – I was kept around until he didn’t want to deal with me anymore, and then I was discarded.

So – jerk, right? Yeah. Completely. But not just him. Me too.

It took most of the day of wallowing and ranting before I began to see the hypocrisy of my actions. Had I stopped looking/talking/etc to other guys while the suitor and I were being friends? Of course not. Why would I? He and I were only platonic friends. It’s not like I had a string of potential dates lined up at my door, but still – I wasn’t limiting myself because of him. And he was equally free to pursue someone.

So what’s the big deal? A man I didn’t have any romantic interest in didn’t want me. That’s it.

Now I did find out about him lying to me about something fairly significant during our relationship, but there’s nothing I can really do about it now.  I suppose I could “confront” him via text, but how would that help? Plus, I’m old enough to think before I act.

As I calmed down, I found myself remembering times when I had treated someone with the same “disposable” action. I didn’t do it to be malicious, but the action was still the same. We have all been this way, as much as we don’t want to admit it. We have all been the jerk suitor at some point in our life. We’ve all been hypocrites.

What now? I shake the dust from my feet and move on. I will remember two things from this experience: not to allow anyone to treat me as a disposable bottle, and also not to treat others as though they are discard-able. I have more value than that, and so does everyone else.

I saw the road you took –

just a simple, black asphalt path

with the old wooden rails

that looked like they could barely

hold their own weight,

let alone everything that was between us.

Nothing grand about that road

except it’s where we stood at that moment.

But then you left –

left me, left what used to be us.

We could have been great.

Or not.

Either way, now we’ll never know.

Leaves crunched

under your boots as you walked,

never looking back.

And then I lost sight of you

because I was staring at the trees –

lining the road like sentries,

green gems shining under the sun.

No wonder you chose

to go this way. Maybe I should too.

I’ve had this sort of rant for a while regarding Star Wars and Han Solo. I rarely get to expound on it because I rarely meet people who (1) dig Star Wars as much I do and are willing to listen (2) care about the actual story and characters like I do. But then I remembered this here blog – hooray for making your own platform. So, here it goes.

Han shot first. Those of us who remember the original movies before George Lucas jazzed them up for the DVD version already know this. There isn’t a debate at all – he shot before Greedo before Greedo could shoot him.

So what’s the big deal about it? Well apparently something for Lucas to change the scene so it looked like Han fired his weapon in self-defense. Perhaps he didn’t want Solo to look like such a bad guy in the beginning. Maybe outside pressure forced the director to soften Han’s rougher edges and make him less like a villain and more like an okay guy who just happens to be a smuggler for a mobster. Not so bad, right?

But softening the edges actually does the character more harm than good. Han Solo is a scoundrel – he says so himself in “Empire Strikes Back.” He’s not a good guy at all, and in the beginning, is only out for himself. He agrees to take Obi-Wan and Luke to Alderaan for two reasons: (1) money and (2) to skip out on the boss who just tried to kill him.

The boss, of course, is Jabba the Hutt. Think of Jabba as the Godfather – how many guys worked for Corleone and never killed anyone? It’s probable that Greedo wasn’t the first guy/being killed by Han. Highly likely.

Han Solo is a scoundrel who thinks of himself first and foremost. He is, without a doubt, flawed. And unlike Luke and Leia, who were already focused on helping others before themselves, Han’s character was in need of redemption. His journey actually began in the final scenes of “A New Hope” when he decided not to abandon his new friend Luke and run off with his reward money.

One of the best stories told throughout Star Wars is that of a man who went from caring about no one but himself to caring about everyone else first before considering himself. And not only does Han end up fighting with the rebels, but he is willing to step aside when he thinks the love of his life is in love with his best friend – that is not the Han Solo that we meet at the beginning of the story. And the depth of his story is shortened (and we are robbed) when you/society tries to make his edges less rough, less unpleasant and “bad.”

Even at his worse, Han is still a relatable, very human character. How? Because he is flawed and in need of redemption. We all are. For those who don’t like the religious undertones of that word, let’s say amends/atonement/rescue – from behaviors or decisions or points in our life that weigh us down and make us scoundrels. We have all been a scoundrel at some point in our life, and few of us probably wanted to remain as such. Han found a way to a new life and a better version of himself – another something that most of us can relate to and desire.

So why make him less scandalous in the beginning? Changing the timing of his trigger pull not only lessens his character’s transformation, but it lessens us a little too. It’s okay that Han shot first. We want him to. We might even need him to – for the story, and for us too.