Wikking Out

It's official. Fall has fallen and winter is fast approaching. One look at the dismally low thermometer reading, and there's no denying it. And while the calendar is screaming at you that Halloween is no longer creeping up but instead poised to pounce in all its menacing glory and goriness, at the back of your mind is the sound of another alarm bell. Yes, soon those costume-stuffed aisles at the store will soon be marked down on clearance and shoved aside to make way for dressings and decorations of another kind...the kind that clearly announce the arrival of Thanksgiving. Which, consequently, means the official kick-off to the holiday season. 

So if you've got kids, the upcoming months means you're in for several substantial blocks of time to fill as those little angels face the seasonal school holiday vacations. Chances are, you'd like them to have at least a few hours in there that aren't spent in the glow of some sort of screen, so why not get their creativity going and give their tiny little fingers something to do that doesn't involve a keyboard? Wikki Stix has the perfect solution. Reminiscent of the old pipe-cleaner art projects, Wikki Stixx are candle-wick-like pieces of wax coated string in various colors that can be bent and formed into all kinds of fun and interesting shapes. Check out their new Tons of Fun Kit––it's a convenient carrying case case absolutely packed with everything your little ones could possibly need to make critters and creatures, design cards, doodle, play games, decorate bags...or anything else they imagine. The kit includes 96 Wikki Stix packed in a see-through vinyl case with red braid trim and handle, making it easy to pack up and go! (www.wikkistix.com) $16.95.

Whether you're getting ready for those idle hours away from school or thinking ahead to Christmas shopping, the Tons of Fun kit has you covered!

Financial Peace?

This may shock you...get ready for it...Are you sitting down?
I'm worried.
Wow.
Yes, I the self-admitted Queen of Worry an, once again, worried. 
Ta da! I knew you'd be surprised. 
Okay, so this is dripping in sarcasm. But bear with me. Today, I'm not fretting over the weather or the amount of work in my Inbox (give me a few minutes and the sentiment might change...). Right now, I'm worried about the government and whether or not its going to be fixed. True, it's had countless problems for longer than any of us can remember, but this one is looming large and in-charge right now and weighing heavily on all of our minds (and budgets.) So I'm biting my fingernails and trying to concentrate on work and making my most valiant attempts at not worrying about things that I have absolutely no control over. I'm sending up prayer after prayer and trying to let God be God and do what He does best, but I'm going to be REALLY honest and own up to the fact that I don't feel like I'm having a very successful time of it. 
I want things fixed.
I want security (or some teeny tiny form of it).
I want to know that things are going to get paid for.
Sounds like my own life.
Which makes me start worrying about that, too.
Fabulous...
Dear God, be with our government a they make decisions today. Give them wisdom. Give them grace. And give us all a little peace. And please, please, please...give me a piece of that peace. 

Making the Grade

It's funny how much focus lately I've been giving to weather conditions––both the literal and the metaphorical kind. It's just proven to be such an apt comparison, in light of how I've been feeling. I'm hoping that changes soon, especially since most days of kate have been rainy and gloomy. I don't want to be the gloomy chick. I want people to think of me as sparkling, engaging. Fun to be around and uplifting. I want people to feel like I've blessed the moments of the day that have been shared by my company. 
I don't ever want anyone to end time spent with me to wish that they had stayed away; to think that their day had been wasted. To regret meeting me. I hope that I'm doing that. That I'm shining light into people's day––even if it's only for a few moments. 
I want to be the best me I can be, and for others to think that that me is pretty great.
I know that some people would probably tell me that I care to much about other people's opinions, that I should just be who I am and disregard what other people's reactions. 
But I do care. 
I've always cared, and I don't see that changing anytime soon.
I'm a perfectionist when it comes to myself and how other perceive me. Of whether I'm living up to expectations––whether mine or someone else's, real or imagined. 
I want to get higher than an A, and most of the time, I don't feel like I fall anywhere in the realm of an A. Not even an A minus, if I'm going to be completely honest. 
More like a D.
Whether that's where I actually fall is up for debate, I suppose. But at this point in the game, that really is how I feel. Which doesn't exactly bode well for not hitting the gloominess of my internal weather pattern. Actually, it generally only exacerbates the problem. 
But what can you do, when you're feeling like your grades are falling? The simple answer, I suppose would be to study. To learn your weak points and find out what you're missing. To strengthen your foundation.
I'm sensing a call to the pages of the Bible. A reconnection to my knowledge base. A plug in to my power-source. I think I let myself go too long sometimes, without taking the time to dig in and meditate on the Word. I'll read it to cross it off my list of Things to Do. One more accomplishment to my day. But I don't often enough take the time to truly reflect on what I'm reading and studying. 
It may be a common problem, but it's not one I'm proud of. Especially in times when I'm called to be an ambassador, an example. A light. And my lack of knowledge leaves me less than prepared to make the A I so desperately want, and I'm left feeling like a D has been marked at the top of my test.
Again, I'm being metaphorical here in all of this. God doesn't give out grades like a teacher in school. He only wants our best––whatever that might be.
But I want to be able to give that best and know that it really is my best. 
I want to feel like I'm making the grade.

What's the Forecast?

The skies are blue here again, crystal clear and threatless. What troubles me at this moment is not the weather outside, but the weather inside. Most specifically, the weather inside of me and my heart and mind. This is shaping up to be one of those weeks that seems painfully, panic-inducingly silent weeks when I do largely nothing apart (work-wise, anyway) from sending out query letters and manuscript proposals. When the actual, paid work is decidedly missing and I'm left wondering if (and how) I'm possibly going to be able to stick it out for the long-haul. When I wonder if I'm being absolutely foolish in my waiting. If I'm being ambitious enough. If I'm good enough. 
If I'm enough.
After all, I could look at this empty space on my assignment calendar and decide that I need to be going out to look for a job outside of the realm of my laptop. Would I be being more industrious or realistic or  responsible by literally hitting the pavement and applying to bricks-and-mortar jobs?
At this point, I don't know what the answer is.
I don't know what the weather forecast is.
Will it be sunny skies or stormy ones for me?
At this point, I'm still watching; waiting; and praying. Hoping that God will give me wisdom to see through the fog when it rolls in; that He'll show me what do to and that I'll listen. That I'll be wise enough to wait out the rumbles or evacuate while there's still time––whatever I'm supposed to do.
I'm just hoping and praying for the weather forecast. I'm hoping that it will shine happily on me, and that it will come soon.

Please...Readers, followers, faithful friends. Please tell me what you think when you read. I want to hear from you! I welcome your thoughts and criticisms. Just let me hear your voice!

The Worry Tax

Rain has come in, washed ashore, and caused its fair share of panic. But is it over? At this point in the day, I'm not sure. And I'm more than a little apprehensive to check the weather reports. Remember now, I'm terribly guilty of worrying over things I can't control––which definitely includes the weather. I'm glad that no one can fine you for the offense of worry, especially useless worry. If they did, I wouldn't be able to afford more than fifteen minutes in this wonderful world of potential worry. I would be severely in debt, financially, from what that worry cost me.

Fortunately, there aren't any kinds of fees or fines imposed on worry. But there are certainly costs, aren't there? If you stop and think about it, it's absolutely amazing what worry an actually cost us. It can keep you from doing things that you've always wanted to do. It can cost you relationships and experiences. It can become so huge in our minds that it costs us time and energy that we can't get back, ever. 

Even as I write this, these seemingly sage words of advise telling you not to worry, I struggle to hear them, to heed them. After all, isn't it so much easier to give advice than to actually take it? It's easier to try to fix someone else's life than it is your own––you have less stake in it. You can look back from a place of objectivity and see shortcomings and potential solutions without ever feeling like you're the failure if something doesn't work. You're the one passing judgement, not the one being judged. 

So yes, it's so much easier to sit here behind the anonymity of my computer and tell you to stop worrying about the things beyond your control. It's easier to say it than for me to do it; and I deal every day with my laundry list of worry, trying to figure out if it really is worth worrying over this or that.For the most part, I think I have it figured out. I whittle the list down pretty well, but I still struggle with some that I have definitely allowed to become super storms of worry. They control me, and they disregard my boundaries. They cause my inner worry-wart to go scurrying off to the store, loading up my carts with enough water, canned goods, flashlights, and batteries to take me through the Apocalypse. They cause me to wring my hands and waste my time and sacrifice things that I want to do, all out of fear of being caught unprepared and out of control. 

They make me into the weather man, working from a forecast that no longer applies and does no good, impotent and ineffectual and uninformed. So while everyone else is walking around, happily content in the sunny skies, I lumber along, weighted down with unnecessary umbrellas and rain gear, waiting for the next storm. 

They go to the beach, while I cling to the inlands, never seeing the crystal clear beaches of carefree days. What has it cost me?

Weathering the Worry

I admit it. I'm trying to control the weather with my mind. Not that I'm the first person to do this; but based on the fact that I can in no way, shape, or form do this with anything even bordering on success, I know that, logically, I should just try to stop worrying an get on with my life. Granted, I'm getting on with my life and trying to do things are need to be done; but at the back of my mind is that stupid screaming voice that wants every ounce of my attention, commanding me to worry. 

Unfortunately, by trying so hard to ignore it that I start talking about it is also a strange form of giving it power. Bizarre, perhaps, buy still true.

So I'm trying to look out the windows, soaking in the sunny skies and denying the thought that somewhere out there, something potentially scary is headed this way, I'm trying to take the perfect blueness of the morning and the fluffy white clouds as a sign that we're going to coast on through this Coastal threat. I'm trying to be optimistic and not worry that this is literally just the calm before the storm, that this will amount to nothing beyond a short-lived bust of panic among the locals. 

This is the part of the year I hate––those six months of tenuous Tropics, when I avoid weather reports like the plague and wish like crazy that I could bury my head in the sand until December officially shows itself. 

Alas, I cannot, so I have to face reality and try not to give in to my inner worry wart and just breathe. I stay aware, but try not to brood. After all, I can't control the weather––but I can do damage control on my internal tropics. God is the weatherman––the key is to remember that.  

Affirmative Words

There's something oddly affirming about the mere idea of work to me. I feel like I'm not simply taking up space, rather, that I'm in the realm of potential. Otherwise, I feel like there's something I'm supposed to be doing––some great task that I'm neglecting, some job that I could or should be applying to so that my bottom line is increased. 

It is an odd thing, to be a writer. You live so much in your own head, in your own world, even when you find yourself in the midst of a throng of people. I don't know about anyone else, but I never feel a true sense of security, either. A strange occupation to have, I admit, for someone who craves security and control. 

Therein lies the rub. As much as it steals control, writing also gives control. You can manipulate the words, create people and places and situations. No one does anything without your final approval, and the backspace and delete keys are always at your fingertips. 

And yet.

When you write for a living, you learn to be alone, you learn to listen more, to observe more. There's a lot of more involved, but there's also a lot of less. There are more ways to create, more ways to speak out, more possibilities to find a story or inspiration in every person you meet. But there is also more worry and less money. Less certainty that another job will come, less contact. More days of burying your head in the sand so that you can truly focus on the formulation of the words. 

To be a successfully dedicated writer, you have to understand that success doesn't come right away, and nothing is certain except for one thing: You will learn the meaning of rejection. Many, many times. The key is remembering that somewhere among all the nos is a yes––a great, powerful word. And all it takes is one.

Spooked Yet?

Is it just me, or is anyone else just floored by the fact that it's October? 
Seriously. 
The end of the year is just two short months away.
Two. Months.
Yup, and then that 2013 we all just got used to writing will become 2014. 
I, for one, thought we might all be driving around in flying cars by the time 2014 rolled around, but that hasn't happened yet. 
Not sure whether I'm glad about that or disappointed.
At any rate, I don't feel ready.
There are things I wanted to have accomplished by the end of the year, things I really don't see happening at this point. On the flip side of the coin, there are things that I've accomplished this year that I never saw coming.
I guess it's all in how you choose to look at things.
What matters most, I suppose, is the take-away.
What have you learned? What have you given? What have you been given?
Are you looking forward to the end of the year, or are you spooked by the idea?
I think, if I'm honest, I have to say I'm a little of both.
There are things I'm looking forward to and things I'm dreading. Whatever category things may fall into, though, I'm realistic enough to know that the inevitable is coming, and that calendar change is going to happen. I can't put the brakes on things or clamp my eyes shut to avoid the steady march of time. I can only pray that God looks at the last year of my life and sees things that make Him happy. I want God to be proud of this time––to see that I've made the most of my "talents" and haven't squandered them.  
I don't want this to be a year that haunts me––rather, I want to be able to celebrate it and all of its milestones. 
There may be tricks, and there may be treats. But there will definitely be things to treasure.