Share Four Somethings: May 2021

Last Monday, after a weekend of rain and sickness, the blues washed over me. I pushed through the items on my to-do list just to remain productive. (It’s good, sometimes, to put yourself on auto-pilot and take care of the next thing.)

At one point, I found myself sitting at the basement computer, fighting the urge to check my favorite news and political commentary sites. It struck me, in that moment, how much like a drug the Internet can be. I was feeling bad, and the thing that would make me feel better was a mere click away.

Thankfully, I resisted the temptation. And in this month’s version of Share Four Somethings, I’ll tell you why.

• Something Loved

In April, I set a goal to write 1,000 words a day about a particular subject. A week or two in, I realized that my practice of scanning one or two of those news websites after finishing a paragraph—as well as at other times throughout the day—was extremely unproductive. (Or maybe I already knew this but finally decided to do something about it? That’s probably closer to the truth.)

It doesn’t really matter which sites I was checking. The point is, reading news and commentary online had become—for me—an unhelpful, unhealthy habit.

So what did I do? I quit the news cold turkey and haven’t been back to those websites since.

I still hear updates on the radio every now and then, and Randy fills me in on important developments here and there. For the most part, though, the world carries on without me. While I occasionally miss checking the news, I’m loving the peace that comes by not letting myself go there.

I’m not saying this is a permanent change, by the way. But it’s good and necessary for the time being. (Now if I could just break my habit of checking email while I’m writing …)

• Something Read

My quote for this month comes from a book I wrote about here. This particular passage, from On Writing Well by William Zinsser, describes a process I’ve been engaged in for the last several months, one that has helped me get into a therapeutic and productive writing rhythm.

If you want to write about your life—a memoir, or something memoir-ish, in my case—Zinsser surprisingly does not suggest beginning with the end in mind. Here’s what he recommends instead:

“Go to your desk on Monday morning and write about some event that’s still vivid in your memory,” he says. “It doesn’t have to be long—three pages, five pages—but it should have a beginning and an end. Put that episode in a folder and get on with your life. On Tuesday morning, do the same thing. … Take whatever memory comes calling; your subconscious mind, having been put to work, will start delivering your past.

“Keep this up for two months, or three months, or six months,” Zinsser continues. “Don’t be impatient to start writing your ‘memoir’—the one you had in mind before you began. Then, one day, take all your entries out of their folder and spread them on the floor. (The floor is often a writer’s best friend.)

“Read them through and see what they tell you and what patterns emerge. They will tell you what your memoir is about—and what it’s not about. They will tell you what’s primary and what’s secondary, what’s interesting and what’s not, what’s emotional, what’s important, what’s unusual, what’s funny, what’s worth pursuing and expanding. You’ll begin to glimpse your story’s narrative shape and the road you want to take.

“Then all you have to do is put the pieces together.”

That sounds easy enough, right? More like intimidating and overwhelming, if you want to know the truth. Not impossible, though. (At least I hope not. Stay tuned …)

• Something Treasured

Speaking of spreading papers out all over the floor, that’s where I’ve been with my dad’s stuff for the last few months. I’m almost done with the culling and organizing, and while it’s been emotionally exhausting at times, I am constantly aware of what a treasure I have in my possession.

His “collected works” include Bible study lessons, children’s stories, letters to the editor and more personal correspondence. Among the piles and spiral-bound notebooks I’ve found: a typed letter he wrote to the elders when our family left the church of my childhood; a handwritten letter to his brothers after he had prostate cancer, urging them to get regular checkups; thoughts on topics such as “Things You Can Do to Be Truly Humble and Gracious;” and his answers to questions like “Why did God make us?” and “Does God ever change His mind?”

Even though he passed away two years ago this week, I still have so much to learn from his writing—about gracious communication, about the Bible, about life in general.

• Something Ahead

For years, I’ve looked with envy at the overflowing flower pots on other people’s porches. You know what I’m talking about—those giant containers with the perfect combination of thrillers, spillers and fillers, all color-coordinated and free from insect damage.

Instead of trying my hand at something like that, I’ve stuck with the same red impatiens, year after year. I always go to the hardware store not too far from my house and get a flat of 50, then bring them home and fill up the strawberry planter, an old birdbath, several pots and the planter on the side of the house.

I missed the flats this year, though. I kept intending to stop by the store to see if they had them, but by the time I actually got around to calling about it, they were out and not getting anymore. (You better believe I kicked myself for procrastinating about that.)

I could skip the flower pots entirely this summer. It’s pretty late to start, after all, and the thought of going to a garden center and trying to sift through all the choices just makes me tired.

And yet, my porch looks bare. The window well in the basement needs some color. Once Randy opens our pool, the deck would look naked without any flower pots in the corner.

So I’m going to try more variety this year. The worst thing that could happen is that all the plants will die and I’ll have more material to compost. Or I might realize that being creative with my pots isn’t as hard as I thought.

I guess we’ll see.

• • •

That’s it for me this month. Now I’d love to get your thoughts about the news, or spreading papers on the floor, or the best way to approach container gardening. If none of that strikes a chord, feel free to share your own four somethings: loved, read (or said), treasured or ahead.

♥ Lois

P.S. I’m linking up this week with Inspire Me Monday, Share Four Somethings, #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee, #HeartEncouragement and Grace & Truth.