Reading, Writing and Rambling

A little over a year ago, I posted about a Successful Experiment that Failed. Basically, I was gaining readership through a formula I'd learned from a best-selling author. But in the end, it was less than fulfilling. I didn't want readers just to have readers. I simply wanted to blog whenever I wanted to and if anybody took notice, it was a bonus. Much of my attention reverted to easier places like Facebook, where one-sentence thoughts are more acceptable than on a blog. Obviously, it's an easier pastime.

But I'm still a writer, and I still like to ramble...pretty much about anything. Which can be, at times, more appropriate in a blog setting. So today, the topic is books. Not my books, though.

When I was younger, I couldn't get enough of reading. I don't know how many times I walked to the library to check out more books. I remember picking out the illustrated children's books, later graduating to the chapter books in the young adult section. I can still smell the basement floor. You know - the musty pages smell that only comes from well-used books. Back then, I had to learn how to find books by sifting through literal cards. Books weren't scanned - they were hand-marked by the librarian.

When I started writing my own books, I began using most of my spare time to write, not read. If I had ten minutes or ten hours, I wanted to get in all the writing I could, so I didn't make time to read, unless it was a book I was really interested in. So for a handful of years, I rarely read any books.

Then the bug bit me just recently and I've fallen in love all over again. Granted, now it's a mix of novels and educational material, but either way, I'm rediscovering my love of reading. Books. Real books. Not intangible files I've downloaded on my computer, but real, honest-to-goodness books that have actual pages that I can feel and smell and dog-ear. I can scribble notes, underline, highlight and thumb through pages to find my place. I can take books wherever I go without worrying about running out of battery or having internet access. I can put them all on my shelf in any order I please, and I don't have to perform searches to find them again.

I'm not saying I don't read on my computer or smartphone. Actually, I read quite a bit on my smartphone. But when I really want to sit down and enjoy a good story, or I want to dive into the study of a topic in which I'm interested, I'll choose the paperback version over digital any day.

We may have entered a digital age, but mark my words (you can print this out and underline and highlight if you want), printed words will always have a place in the hearts, hands and homes of true readers.

How about you? Do you prefer digital reading or printed?


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The Depth of Blessings

I view blessings differently than I used to. First, I’m more grateful, and more apt to recognize blessings after reading an article that chided those who might call the nice things in life “blessings.” Their point was that sometimes things just happen – God is still in control, but having cheaper-than-expected car repairs, or finding the perfect pet companion were things that simply will or won’t happen in the world, and labeling them as blessings would make others (who didn’t get the cheap repairs, or whose dog just died) feel of lesser value to God. I understand what the writer was saying, but I can’t and won’t stop giving God the credit, even for the little things. Maybe it’s just something He allowed life to give me, but even so, He could have prevented it, and who else am I going to thank? I gained a new sense of necessity to remember to thank God, and often, for the things which I have, whether they’re material possessions or things of eternal consequence.

Second, I have discovered that blessings only make me feel less at home here. This is not to be misunderstood as ungratefulness. On the contrary, I have experienced such blessings in my life that I long, even more, to know and see the Giver of those blessings. Being blessed by anything from material possessions, to health, to family and friends, to financial means have nothing to do with resting securely on this earth. They have nothing to do with finding pleasure in the “stuff” of this world. Why would God want His children to be more satisfied here when there is something so much greater waiting for us after this life is over?

I think the more accurate perspective would be that first, God enjoys bringing pleasure to His children. While He will often allow man to follow a path not of His will, and He certainly does many things we do not understand, I believe He finds enjoyment in our smiles. I only say this because we were ultimately made in His image, and as a father enjoys seeing his children happy, I can only conclude that God enjoys loving on His children as well. The other side of the coin is that God also wants us to know Him more. Better. Deeper. I may experience trials. I may experience being broke and sick, and forced to live on the street – but the greatest blessings have nothing to do with my physical needs – they have to do with my spiritual needs. God blesses us with physical contentment not so we can live a life of luxury, but so we can remember to thank Him and realize He’s still in control, and, ultimately, so we will long to be with Him forever.

I won’t stop giving God the credit for even the smallest things. I don’t care if life would have dealt me those same cards anyway. And I also won’t allow the blessings to compromise my perspective by making me too comfortable here on earth. If my neighbor has more than I, it is no reason to feel less valued by God – it’s just another opportunity to thank Him for what I do have, and to thank Him for what’s to come: something better.

No matter the blessing, life here is temporary. The “stuff” of this world will pass away eventually. Nothing lasts – not even the material things God has allowed me to have. Nothing but God and our salvation in Him is forever.

So I will be grateful. But more so for the fact that God loves me than for the fact that I have a level of physical or emotional comfort. 


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Successful Experiment that Failed

I may very well be the only person who has noticed my ever-slowing additions to this blog. And to be completely honest, I originally revamped how I did things here as an experiment. I wanted to find out if a book I read was true – that building an online audience was possible. And on a small scale, it did work. If I would follow the advice of a particular best-selling author, I’m sure I could be as successful as she claims. But here it is: after trying out the whole “build an audience” thing, I realized it really wasn’t my thing.

Starting out, I decided to quit talking about writing only. I’ve got a few writer friends who might read my posts, but reading about writing can be…rather boring. And I know that. So I stopped. Or rather, I significantly reduced my writing-related articles. I still believe that was a wise move. However, my next decision was to blog on a schedule and talk about a wide array of topics to which my readers could relate. So with those goals, I began blogging about things like my cats. Collecting key chains. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Doodling. You know – things that really matter. As long as I could get my three posts a week in, even if it was sharing a silly YouTube video, I felt successful. And my readership did grow.

But after a while, my enthusiasm waned. Not because I didn’t like telling people about my flowers, Mr. Squirrel, or surviving a smoke alarm disaster, but because I was blogging because I had to. And if I didn’t have anything worth writing about, I’d come up with some shallow information – which may have made readers smile, but I was blogging simply to meet my own schedule and to gain that sought-after readership. That was all.

As usual though, I go against the flow, and I don’t like doing things just because other people like it, or just because it’s the “in” thing. And while my pointless rambles might have been enjoyed to a certain degree, they did little to satisfy me. Seems a little selfish, but in all reality, my blog is about me and what I like. And here’s the thing: I like having points. Generally, I can find a spiritual point in just about any situation since God is just that important to me, or at the very least, I can create a life-application out of the simplest story. Writing about peanut butter and jelly? Cute, but what’s the point? That’s what my Facebook page is for.

Blogging lately has become more about what inspires me, and less about staying on schedule. More about what might encourage or enlighten someone, and less about using anything just to check blogging off my to-do list. As I continue down this path, I’ll probably have fewer readers. As the content steers more away from the everyday blather, those who read my posts may know less about my kitties’ adventures and my taste for Doritos, but they’ll probably gain a better understanding of who I really am. And there are those who might not notice a difference at all, and are, at the moment, wondering what on earth I’m talking about. And that’s okay, too.

Don’t worry – I’ll still have life’s silly adventures documented here, I’m sure. And I'm not trying to eliminate the fun tongue-in-cheek  articles that I love to write. But when I’m absent for a while, it’s not because I’ve lost interest. It’s simply because I’m searching for something deeper than Doritos to blog about. I want my readers – however few they may be – to know me, and not just be another number on the chart that shows how many people have read my posts. My initial experiment was a success, no doubt. But numbers don’t define me. So now, I just want to be me, regardless of how big or small my audience is, and focus more on what I like to write about, when I like to write about them.

Oh, Introverted Me

There can be a lot of negative things said about a labeled introvert. Some definitions or perceptions lean towards a selfish nature, or behavior akin to being a hermit. But while negative actions may indeed describe some people, introverts, as a whole, can no more be placed in the same basket than can bananas and apples. Though both are fruit, they are very different. As are introverts.

I’ve discovered this as I have researched my own personality traits. I’m one of those weird people who likes to figure out exactly what makes me tick. What actions or reactions are natural versus learned? Where do my emotions come from? Why do I prefer solitude over a multitude? In finding answers, I’ve discovered, as always, that no two people are completely alike. Though I may label myself as an introvert, I’m still different from my neighbor, also claiming to be an introvert. That said, we all, who love the quietness of our own minds over the loudness of a crowd, find ourselves on much common ground.

I found these statements on Wikipedia, and they very much describe the way I feel:

“Some popular psychologists have characterized introverts as people whose energy tends to expand through reflection and dwindle during interaction… Introverts are easily overwhelmed by too much stimulation from social gatherings and engagement… Mistaking introversion for shyness is a common error. Introverts prefer solitary to social activities, but do not necessarily fear social encounters like shy people do.”

After reading the very first sentence, I wanted to jump up, throw my arms in the air and yell, “Yes!” Because this is exactly me. People. Wear. Me. Out. I’m not saying I don’t love people. I do! I have many friends whose hugs I crave. I have social circles I enjoy. I need interaction with others – truly. But it doesn’t take me long to get maxed out. It’s kind of like putting gas in my car. When I’m alone, I’m fueling up. My energy “tends to expand through reflection.” Once I’m around people – be it one or ten, my engine is running. The situation and types of people can often dictate how fast my fuel gauge moves, but regardless, it heads towards empty. My energy “dwindles during interaction.” Again, this doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it. I love zipping down the highway in my car, too, but eventually, the tank hits “E.” And when it does, trying to continue driving does nothing but make the situation worse. Soon, I’m stranded along the highway, exhausted and frazzled. It’s the same way for me on the inside when I’ve been over-stimulated, or have gone too long without a personal refuel.

Unfortunately, at least with me, there are no real rules. I can’t say that interacting with nine people is my limit, and when I hit ten, that’s when my energy dwindles. Nor can I say that it takes me sixty minutes of quiet to refuel, and on minute sixty-one, I’m ready to go again. Every day is different, depending on emotions, physical conditions, and mental strain – or lack thereof. Sometimes I can go a week with a ton of boisterous interaction and be just fine. And sometimes all it takes is one hour with the right (or wrong) person, and I’m craving a whole week of quiet with just me and my cats. Who I'm with – whether it be my best friend, a coworker or my own family – can matter little. And hitting the overstimulation point is as easy to predict as the weather – you can get fairly close, but the weather can, and will, throw its own curveballs.

In the end, I’m an introvert who sometimes likes to dress in an extrovert’s clothing. As with most people, I have both traits – I just usually lean more heavily towards the introverted side of things.

So when I walk away, please don’t think me rude – I probably just need a few minutes of quiet. When I seem to not engage in conversation, please don’t take it personally – I may simply be allowing my brain to refuel. When I decline a social activity, please don’t think I don’t like spending time with you – it may just be a day I need to decompress. If I say I’d rather go home and watch a movie alone rather than hang out, please know I simply need to chill out before I run my tank dry – our relationship is still secure. When I tell you I’m spending the day at home to do nothing but read and sort laundry, don’t feel sorry for me – I’m probably loving it more than you know. And when I can’t stand to even breathe the same air as you, please realize I’m probably just over-stimulated – I still love you the same as I did before, and I just need a break. Your patience and quietness is all I need.

Being an introvert is not an excuse to hide away, be rude or avoid people. My personality traits do not dictate my actions – what I do is still my choice, no matter my tendencies. I'm a mature adult who chooses not to run screaming out of a crowded restaurant when that's all I really want to do. But struggling to survive as an introvert is very real, and a little bit of understanding can go a long way.

I’m certain that extroverts have many challenges as well. We all do, no matter where we fall on man’s scale of personality traits. But this is the perspective I know well. And I know God can and will use me, introvert or not, if I pay attention and make sure He’s first in my life…even on days I feel over-stimulated.

I Love All Her Faces

It’s time again for me to bring up one of my critter children. Not because I’m a crazy cat lady (yet) but my one cat seems to have a way of teaching me life lessons when I least expect it.

Ever since she was a tiny kitten, she’s lived up to her name, Nitro.

Whether she presents herself as a Christmas gift,

steals my heat,

or takes over my television remote control,

she’s my best bud. I’ve often said that I believe God gave me Nitro just to make sure I smile every day. She likes to grab moving blankets,

hang upside down,

attempt the impossible,

sit at the dinner table,

ship herself to exotic destinations,

and take up residence in my bathroom sink.

No matter what, even if she destroys any attempts on my part to get some work done,

(and no matter how innocent she tries to look)

I love her.

One thing that has been impossible for me to capture in a picture is how Nitro acts when she wants something (whether food or just attention), especially when I get home from work or when I get up in the mornings. Somewhere along the way, she developed a habit of jumping up into my arms (from the floor or nearby furniture). At first, I was surprised by her behavior, but it was cute, and even though half the time it just meant she was hungry, it felt like she loved me and wanted a hug – and her purring just added to my own pleasure.

What I soon observed was most special though, was how she was jumping on me. I realized that not only was she aiming at my chest (rather than the ledge of my shoulder), but she was not extending her claws either. She was aiming herself at me, fully expecting me to catch her. Once caught, the purring would start, and she’d give my hairline a wet grooming, whether it needed it or not. She had complete faith that every time she jumped, I’d catch her and hold her.

Eventually, I stopped and thought about Nitro’s behavior and how it compares to how I should be with God. It’s hard to trust someone I can’t see – I admit it. I love God with all my heart and I follow Him and have faith in Him. But it’s not always easy. Sometimes I want to do things my way. Or I don’t really have enough trust that He knows what He’s doing with my life. I extend my claws to hang on – just in case He really does let go of me. Or maybe I don’t jump at all, scared He won’t catch me.

But the truth of the matter is, if there is only One I can ever trust, it’s Him. I fully believe He will never let me down. And as such, I should always feel brave enough to leap into His arms, fully trusting that He will not only catch me, but He’ll never drop me. That’s just the way He is.

As quirky as Nitro can be, (she’s playing in a couple cardboard boxes as I type this, and doing a good job of making me laugh) she also, unknowingly, teaches me about life…if I’m willing to stop and take a closer look.


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