Time's Up - A Mouse's Story

My next bit of writing is also from this past Friday’s writing group. In turn, each person hosting provides the rest of our small group with a timed writing exercise. 

Yesterday’s writing exercise was one of my favourites. Our host had prepared slips of paper with three words written on them. She had chosen them from one of the many online sites that generate three random words each time the button is clicked. The timing for this, as is usual, was 10 minutes to write something built on or around the three words. My three words:  Liberty, Mouse and Cake. The first two sentences, in italics, I added this morning to satisfy my personal blog post parameter to use one letter from April's theme of Authenticity to begin the opening sentence. What follows is my stream of consciousness containing Liberty, Mouse and Cake:

Time's Up - A Mouse's Story.

Exciting adventures and treasure hunts, especially when you’re a tiny mouse living in the walls of an ancient hovel, are ever present. Let me tell you of my most recent adventure and the treasure I found. I am quite a handsome mouse. I know this because I see myself each time I scuttle past the shiny glass in the hallway just as I come out from inside the walls. If the cat is not home, I take the liberty to stop and examine myself from head to tail, preening my beautiful mouse ears and admiring the length of my tail. My grey coat shines. Mother grooms and brushes it each morning before she lets me go adventuring through the old house. When I have assured myself, once again, that I am indeed the most handsome mouse in the litter, I go off to the big room where there is a feast waiting for me. At least if I get there first. In the morning, before the gigantic, noisy sucking machine comes rolling in, there are crumbs. Delicious crumbs that seem to have fallen from heaven just for me. Bits of cheese and meat. Dry and crunchy but still traces of oils that I love. This morning I was rewarded with cake! Dark brown and delicious. Not just a crumb but a piece of cake almost bigger than me. I nibbled at it until I got to the soft moist centre……………………..and that’s when our ten minutes were up!

“It’s all just a bit of fun….”

~ Mark Waters, The Enchantment of Abigail Brown

Unwritten

I have two short pieces of writing this evening. They are from our Writer’s group assignment for the month of April. We create an assignment each month for each of us in our little group. This month we were to write ‘a newspaper article about a famous event in history’. This was a difficult assignment for me, as I am much more used to stream of consciousness writing and creative non-fiction, even for the short pieces I write. There has been so much going on in the world that to choose one was quite overwhelming. Considering Florence Nightingale, I did some brief research, complements of Wikipedia and other online sites, and found an event. If a newspaper was picked up at the time, I couldn’t tell. So I’ve taken the liberty to write it on this blog 164 years later. When I read it aloud this afternoon, I felt it was choppy and did not flow very well at all. Please feel free to comment and critique my efforts.

Original piece:

Hoping for a change to the role of women has been replaced with action by Florence Nightingale. As one of a very few women reporters, I was impressed by this woman of tiny stature when hearing her speak out for women and to receive monies that have allowed her goals to be furthered for women and nursing by the establishment of a training school at St. Thomas Hospital. In 1855, a fund was set up by members of the public to provide money for her very prodigious work. Many reports suggest that she listens more to the counsel of men than woman, however in her own life she has set herself the momentous task to live and serve outside of an often oppressive, and sometimes decorative, role of women. The establishment of the training school is possibly the beginning for a woman’s role to work outside the home because of a calling to serve others, when there has been little encouragement for women to seek higher education or work outside of the home. In the main, women have been supported financially by men. Florence Nightingale has dared to step into roles disapproved of by her own mother and sisters. She has challenged the male dominated medical profession in the simple task of hand washing before surgeries and between patients, demanding cleanliness throughout any hospitals, however humble, for the sick and suffering. Florence Nightingale, a very controversial and authentic figure, accepted the monies with much gratitude for her continuing service to mankind.

Edited piece

Hoping for change has been replaced with action by Florence Nightingale, a woman of tiny stature and pleasant visage. As one of a very few women reporters, I was impressed by her speech and manner when hearing her gracious receipt of the monies that have allowed her goals to be furthered. With the monies, she plans the establishment of a training school at St. Thomas Hospital for women wishing to become deaconesses. Given her in 1855, these monies derived from a fund set up by members of the public to provide money for her very prodigious work. Many less charitable reports suggest that she listens more to the counsel of men than woman so are not in support of releasing women from traditional roles. In her own life she set herself the momentous task to live and serve outside the often oppressive role of women. The establishment of such a training school is possibly the beginning for many women to work outside the home because of a calling to serve others, when there has been little encouragement for women to seek higher education or work outside of the home. In the main, women have been supported financially by men. Florence Nightingale has dared to step into roles disapproved of by her own mother and sisters. She has challenged the male dominated medical profession in the simple task of hand washing before surgeries and between patients, demanding cleanliness throughout any hospitals, however humble, for the sick and suffering. Florence Nightingale, a very controversial figure, accepted the monies with much gratitude for her continuing service to mankind.

“So never lose an opportunity of urging a practical beginning, 

however small, for it is wonderful how often in such matters 

the mustard-seed germinates and roots itself.”

~ Florence Nightingale

Staying Tuned

Trusting the universe to keep me 

in a good orderly direction sometimes 

forgotten should new opportunities.

revive old passions and plans.

Trusting the mind, body and spirit

to stay tuned to the massive universe

swirling around and through me

allows authenticity to bloom.

“All the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust.”

~ J.M.Barrie, Peter Pan

Within ~ 2

Uniqueness, a belief held that each of us is special. But only when we’re children.  When we have parents, mentors and other loved ones to tell us so. The challenge is to maintain that belief as we grow, enter and participate in the world of adulthood. A world where we become the adults that tell others they are unique and special. A world where efficiency and conformity, standardization goes against the grain of uniqueness. The worlds of art, writing, and creativity do not fit such molds, discouraged as being unrewarding. Unless of course one does something so awe inspiring that the ‘experts’ applaud our achievements and the rewards are many. 

Most of us will continue in proscribed lives out of necessity: putting clothes on our backs, food on the table and a roof over the heads of our families. We must find and nurture our uniqueness in relationships with others or in personal quiet corners. It does not have to be grand and awe-inspiring to others, only a spark of specialness that rewards us quietly. In relationship with others, we have an opportunity to share that same authenticity and create something quite beautiful. 

“[E]ach of our voices has something unique to say. 

Not only should I not mold my life to the demands of 

external conformity; I can’t even find the model by 

which to live outside myself. I can only find it within.”

 Charles Taylor, Multiculturalism

Silent Running

Abilities change over

years of practice not

perfection coming

in currents and waves

adjusting to emotional

surfing through

calm seas or stormy

while our courageous souls,

whispering silently, 

can steer us from

great depths of authenticity.

“Boredom is the conviction that you can’t change...

..the shriek of unused capacities.”

~ Saul Bellow, the Adventures of Augie March

Being Real - AUTHENTICITY - Theme for April 2019

Abilities change….

Uniqueness, a belief…….

Trusting the …….

Hoping for…….

Exciting adventures……

Nice guys……..

Temporal anomalies……

Intriguing experiments…….

Challenging opportunities

Inching forward……

Time travel……

Yesterdays are……

“Just say what you want to say…and say it with all your heart.”

~ Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear

Personal Challenge: A New Pace

Autonomy. What has it meant to me this last month? I’ve tried to keep it very simple. Autonomy is a pretty big word. It’s meaning: very weighty and suggesting things greater than myself. But there is such a thing as personal autonomy. I’m certain most people know this but I have had to separate the definitions to be able to wrap my head around it all. The Cambridge online dictionary definition is two fold:  ‘the right of an organization, country, or region to be independent and govern itself’ and ‘the ability to make your own decisions without being controlled by anyone else.’

That brings me to my retirement, still in it’s infancy, I’m taking baby steps and enjoying every ~ well most ~ of the steps I’ve taken. It has been those times of limbo when caught in the space of time previously given to my health care employer that it became almost like holding my breath. Realizing I’ve been standing stock still wondering…..just wondering. Wondering has become a very active time of creativity for these pools of time that were growing quite stagnant, and in my case, very boring.

On a recent visit to Vancouver to spend time with my family, I had an unforeseen opportunity to walk every morning. Weather cooperated, my lodgings were only ten minutes from my son’s very full household and the street that I walked was wide and popping into spring time. Using my personal autonomy, I have since walked every morning. Today I realized that I have, in the past, not really explored Beacon Hill Park. Today, I climbed the rocks high up in the park in to the wilds of this amazing place in the city. Church bells ringing and birds singing. The sun lighting up massive rocks lined with stubby green grass, faintly green trees, and the whole park and city. Spring daffodils, purple camas and snow drops lit up tiny spaces in budding trees. I have felt my pace, my abilities and found a place in those rocks that fill me with joy, gratitude and a solid sense of personal autonomy.

“Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you.

You must travel it by yourself.

It is not far. It is within reach.”

~ Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass