inspiration

26/52 – Misha Collins

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​Each month I have tried to use one of my new 52 weeks to talk about a person or personality who has been an influence on my life. In past weeks, I’ve talked about the Blessed Mother, Mary, journalist Ezra Klein, artist and author Brother Mickey McGrath, writer and actor Lin-Manuel Miranda, writer and actress Carrie Fisher, and St. Elen of Caernarfon.

With Gishwhes beginning at the end of this week, I thought that I would briefly introduce this audience to Misha Collins. 

I became aware of Misha through a friend of mine who convinced me to join his gishwhes team, which ended up being all full up. That’s another story, though. Gishwhes is the acronym for its description: the greatest international scavenger hunt the world has ever seen. Misha pronounces it gish-ways; I pronounce it gish-weeeessss.

In addition to Gishwhes being a scavenger hunt, it is also an opportunity to move out of your comfort zone by being creative, artistic, and kind. Part of the fun of gishwhes is trying new things, meeting new people, working together as a team even if you never meet them, and connecting through art and kindness.

Misha’s an actor who I’ve seen several times before although I don’t remember any of the ones before Supernatural.

He’s married and he and his wife, Dr. Victoria Vantoch have two children. They live primarily in California, but also spend a large chunk of the year in Vancouver where Supernatural films.

Misha began the charity, Random Acts in 2009, showing his fans how to direct their energy to  make lives better by doing small, seemingly insignificant things, but that were huge things for the families involved, and of course, as anyone who does any kind of volunteer work knows, it gives great joy for the person on the giving end of things.

Some of the bigger things that Random Acts has done over the years has been bringing hope to Jacmel, Haiti after the island’s devastating earthquake, building a free high school in Nicaragua. Last year, they helped two Syrian refugee families, and this year they began a crisis support network to help those in danger of suicide and self-harm. Sometimes, all you need is someone to talk to at the right time. it doesn’t make it all better, but it does help.

Recently, he’s been involved in political issues like resisting the current Administration’s and Congress’ rollback of civil rights and environmental protections, and encouraging petitions and supporting candidates across the country. Many would say that this isn’t the role of a mere actor, but this is not out of the realm of his skill set. Of course, any member of society can and should involve themselves in politics and political causes, but in his case for the many naysayers out there, he went to the University of Chicago for public policy, and was an intern at the White House during the Clinton years.

I attribute what I did yesterday with my kids directly or indirectly to Misha’s influence as well as my experiences in Gishwhes. I saw a friend’s post on Facebook about something going on in the capital. I thought that it would be fun to visit, and maybe I’d take the kids on Friday or sometime next week. I looked at the clock, pretty much decided to miss church, and go back to sleep when I was jolted. It wasn’t anything paranormal or a voice in my head, but suddenly, I was bolting out of bed, waking my two youngest kids, telling them they had ten minutes to be ready: we were going to church, breakfast at McDonald’s, and then a huge surprise.

They were not terribly put off, although they don’t usually go with me to church, and they really don’t like it very much, but they didn’t argue, they didn’t badger me about what the surprise was, and to be honest, they were extraordinarily well behaved and cooperative all throughout the day, never once complaining about the heat or that they were hungry.

I’m not sure i would have had the energy or the wherewithal to just get up and go like that if I hadn’t been participating in Gishwhes for the past five years. It wasn’t as though I was doing anything crazy; just a little out of the ordinary.

And that’s what I should be teaching my kids. There are times for order, and there are times for spontaneity and surprises. Except for breakfast (and the subsequent parking ticket), this was a free day. And it was so inexpensive that I treated them to another surprise on the way home: 50c Frosties at Wendy’s.

Misha Collins is that bee in your bonnet, Mona Lisa smile, Jiminy Cricket, and he’s the friend who pushes you just a little, but holds on so you don’t fall. And he’ll bring the band-aids.

The Halfway Mark

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We’re a little more than halfway through Lent. I’ve mentioned before my difficulty in giving up bread. Fortunately, the additions I’ve made to my Lenten journey are working out much better than the bread. I have indeed attended the 9am daily mass unless I had a prior commitment. I’ve remained after mass on some days to join the other ladies who stay daily to pray the rosary. I read the Lenten reflection book my church provided. I’ve kept a Lenten journal, writing in it daily, and using it for notetaking on my retreats. I have also done some art projects. Once they’re completed, and I make room in my media files, I will share them here. I love the burst of creativity that the retreats give me.

Even just a two hour session once a week is enough to breathe a renewed spirit in me, and set me off on a project.

The month of March was full of spiritual opportunities. I was lucky to be able to attend a total of thirteen days of retreats or workshops. I’ve tried to go through the retreat center’s calendar, and I’m able to continue once a month through June. Just the idea that it’s available has me full of adrenaline to keep pushing.

As you can see, I also have my keyboard back, so I’m hoping to do a little catch up from last weekend, especially with my series: Emma Watson’s Book Club, The New 52 for weeks 12 and 13, and another book news. Those book news posts really help me organize my thoughts on the two books. They’re very jumbled up in my mind, I think due to the emotional level of both stories.

I was also asked last week to share my conversion story, which would mean talking to people, like an audience, and it’s not something I want to do, but I do kind of want to share it. When I talk about it, I get a lot of positive feedback, but I’m not sure I’m ready for it. However, after saying all that to the person suggesting my opening up, I did feel as though I might be able to in the future. That was definitely something that surprised me.

I can feel myself growing.

I will absolutely talk more about my church’s parish mission that occured in the early part of this week, but in short it focused on Pope Francis’ life and thoughts, which in general focus on mercy and forgiveness. I was truly blessed that i joined the church around the same time as Pope Francis’ choosing. He is a true inspiration to me, and the three days I spent immersed in his merciful ideas was really what I needed to end this half of Lent, and be able to continue down my path. Related to our parish mission, I will have a story of mercy and grace to share tomorrow.

8-52 – Lin-Manuel Miranda

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​Lin-Manuel Miranda can be found all over online. He is currently (at least physically will be back after the tonight’s Oscars) in London working on the Mary Poppins sequel. He has a lively, vocal, opinionated, kind, social media presence. His official website is http://www.linmanuel.com and has all of his current projects and official means to follow him. Other ways of seeing and hearing him are: Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube.

He spends a lot of time, along with his projects, talking often about his family, but he guards his son’s privacy. Please remember not to post pictures of his son if you see them out in public.

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Confidence will Follow

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Graphic – unknown creator. Quote by Carrie Fisher.

Stay afraid, but, do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually the confidence will follow. – Carrie Fisher

This is something I’ve only learned in the past few months, maybe a year. I continue to carry this sentiment and Carrie in my heart. I can do it. I can.

4-52 – Carrie Fisher

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Protest poster from the Women’s March on Washington. 1/21/17. Unknown to credit at this time.

I have long admired Carrie Fisher from the moment she appeared as a repeated hologram with Luke’s connection to her becoming mine. The long white robe, the cinnamon bun hair, the lower register of her voice and the slight rasp. She was a Princess but she wasn’t like any of the princesses we’d encountered before. She was the daughter of a Senator; her identity seemingly connected and overshadowed by her father and the other men in her life until we really met her.

She was the leader of the Resistance. She didn’t let her hair get in her way, and she wore it how she liked it. Her clothes and style never defined her. And neither could we.

That was true for her real life counterpart.

For me, Carrie Fisher, like Jamie Lee Curtis, Melanie Griffith, and later on Rashida Jones, was a bridge from oldtime Hollywood to a new generation of strong women from strong women. My mother watched Debbie Reynolds and Vivian Leigh; We both watched Tippi Hedron, and I watched Peggy Lipton and then their daughters.

Just when you thought Carrie was a one hit wonder, diving head first into drugs and promiscuity, she would come out with something else; something funny, something remarkable, something for all of us.

When I discovered that she was a writer, I jumped for joy inside my head. As a wannabe writer, I loved finding other writers, especially those that had done something else before. It can be done at any age, and Carrie was the epitome of doing it at any age. It also showed  me that it was attainable. Yes, she had some connections and people wanted to hear her stories that were somewhat autobiographical, watching her do it made it attainable for me too.

That is so important to a budding anything; to have that one person who you can look to and say, hey, that’s kind of me, I can do this. I got this.

I looked forward to the new Star Wars so I could see what Leia was up to more than thirty years later, but I also looked forward to how Carrie was doing. She was unstereotypical, unabashed, and unfazed. One of the more recent things I read from her on Twitter was a response to a comment from some troll who thought she hadn’t aged well. She said:

“Please stop debating about whetherOR not I aged well.unfortunately it hurts all3 of my feelings.My BODY hasnt aged as well as I have.”

and

“Youth and beauty are not accomplishments, they’re the temporary happy biproducts of time and/or DNA. Don’t hold your breath for either.(sic)”

I needed those statements in a point in my life that they came and I was reminded of how much I loved and admired Carrie.

A few more of her gems:

Instant gratification takes too long.

Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.

I was street smart, but unfortunately the street was Rodeo Drive.

There is no point at which you can say, “Well, I’m successful now. I might as well take a nap.”

I really love the Internet. They say chat-rooms are the trailer park of the internet. but I find it amazing.

I don’t think Christmas is necessarily about things. It’s about being good to one another, it’s about the Christian ethic, it’s about kindness.

I don’t want my life to imitate art, I want my life to be art.

I am a spy in the house of me. I report back from the front lines of the battle that is me. I am somewhat nonplused by the event that is my life.

I did the traditional thing with falling in love with words, reading books and underlining lines I liked and words I didn’t know. It was something I always did.

I don’t want to be thought of as a survivor because you have to continue getting involved in difficult situations to show off that particular gift, and I’m not interested in doing that anymore.

I’m fine, but I’m bipolar. I’m on seven medications, and I take medication three times a day. This constantly puts me in touch with the illness I have. I’m never quite allowed to be free of that for a day. It’s like being a diabetic.

Writing is a very calming thing for me.

Me, too, Carrie.

Thank you, and rest in peace. ❤

Tao of Carrie Fisher

On the 2nd Day of Christmas, My True Love gave to Me:

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​…coping is not an easy thing.

The last two days of reflections and meditations from the Advent/Christmas book both had to do with death and our reactions to death.

I must admit, I’m not a big fan of death. I’ve always had emotional issues with it, and while my faith in G-d and eternal life with Jesus is strong, I can’t help but feel an emptiness of what might come. It’s scary.

I’ve been devastated when some loved ones have died. I think the ones that hurt the most are the ones that come out of the blue. My father was ill before he died, and it was still sad and upsetting and I feel his loss today, but when my mother died suddenly eighteen months later, I was devastated. I cried every day. The only reason I’m not crying every day since the death of my  mother in law in June I’m sure is because of my anti-anxiety meds. I feel her loss deeply.

In the last two days, I’ve lost two of the most significant inspirations in my life: George Michael and Carrie Fisher. They come at the end of a year that saw so many iconic, influential, important to my life and th lives of others die, sudden and out of the blue.

Growing up, George Michael was part of the second British invasion that I was fortunate enough to witness in the 80s during my high school and college years. it was the beginning of a lot of self-awareness on my part, much of which I didn’t become really aware of until recently. His stepping into who he was and holding that position proudly said it all. His talent and his kindness were not easily matched. We are reading stories this week of his philanthropy that no one knew about, donating money, working in a homeless shelter, helping in his quiet way, the way we’re all supposed to do it, without a big shining spotlight. I will always be a fan.

Carrie Fisher was so much: a bridge from the old, glamorous Hollywood that my mother remembered with her not only famous, but iconic parents, Debbie Reynolds and Eddie Fisher. She was a princess to many of us that saw Star Wars for the first time, not knowing what to expect, but her princess-ness was not with wands or sceptors, tiaras or gowns. She was a leader, she was strong, she was independent, and she was all those things in her real life, her non Leia life. She inspired me with her honesty, most recently chastising someone on Twitter for debating whether or not she aged gracefully. Everything about Carrie Fisher was graceful and exuberant in her own way of being exuberant. She had a wonderful sense of humor and a laugh that was infectious. She inspired me as a strong woman, a woman who spoke her mind regardless of the reaction of others, her love and loyalty to her family and close friends, her mental health honesty and struggle and what she still overcame and struggled to overcome, and of course, her writing. As a fellow writer, I saw so much of her wit and talent, and I try to emulate that.

Neither of them were family, but they are loved and missed as family. There is a pain in my heart for them; for me. They’re fine, wherever they are now, but I mourn and try to figure out how to do better using their influence as a guide.

“…​the news that arises from the mystery of the resurrection, the news that love and life are stronger than death.”

“…To be complete, joy must be shared.”

From Daily Reflections for Advent & Christmas: Waiting in Joyful Hope 2016-17 by Bishop Robert F. Morneau

Project Rock and The Rock Clock

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On Facebook, I’ve been following Dwayne Johnson, known from his wrestling days as The Rock, for maybe a year now. I enjoy his upbeat, positive, motivational view of life. He is one of the most encouraging people I have ever had the pleasure to see even if it’s only been on social media and through his acting roles.

I loved him in the Escape to Witch Mountain reboot. That was my favorite book and movie as a child, and if the original pops up on the television, I will sit and watch it again no matter what else I’m supposed to be doing.

The most recent movie I’ve seen was The Game Plan on the Disney channel. I don’t know when the movie was actually released, but it was recently re-aired on one of the Friday nights in the last couple of weeks.

Following his Facebook, I get to see posts about his new baby daughter, Jasmine, his upcoming Disney animated feature, Moana, still in production (with music by Lin-Manuel Miranda), and most recently his Rock Clock.

I hadn’t realized that The Rock Clock was part of a new venture called Project Rock.

I’ve been using the Rock Clock for about a week now. All in all, I like it, although I need to adjust the volume, and it doesn’t have a snooze button. The Rock doesn’t believe in a snooze button. I actually do, but I’ve been adapting to give it a try.

If you like, you can even get up on Rock Time, but I’ll warn you: that’s about 4 or 5 in the morning. I have not attempted it and don’t plan to.

After you get up and at it, whatever time you’ve set the alarm for, there is a daily inspirational message from The Rock. I’ve seen two that he filmed in the gym right before his workout, one driving to work in his pick-up truck (he loves his pick-up truck), and one still picture with a motivational phrase as a graphic.

I have to say there are worse ways to wake up. Even if I’m tired, and I don’t really want to get up, I still get a positive vibe from the app, and from The Rock.

I know that whatever time it is that I’m viewing his daily message, I will see his smiling face, his positive outlook, and hear the joy in his voice to begin another day.

It rubs off.

In this morning’s message, he dropped whatever he was carrying. He laughed it off, kept walking and narrated that he was going to keep walking. What a great message to keep moving forward no matter what tries to get in your way. He even mentioned that he had to clean up the spill, but the smile didn’t leave his face.

One word of caution: his language is on the adult side. He is uncensored, but there’s no bullying, no denigration, just pure and honest, and unadulterated happy to be alive, and happy to share his day with you.

There are twenty-four options for your alarm sound; I use the one of him singing Good Morning, Sunshine. I’ve also tried the regular beeping alarm, which he also voices.

Here is what he has to say on his home page of the Project Rock website:

WE ARE ALL A PROJECT.

We all have hopes, goals, dreams and aspirations, and I’ve officially made it my project to help as many of you get after your goals as possible. Let’s get after it and chase greatness… together.

-Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson

Write (Non-Stop)

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How do you write
like you’re Running out of time?
Write day and night
like you’re Running out of time?

…

How do you write like tomorrow won’t arrive?
How do you write like you need it to survive?
How do you write ev’ry second you’re alive?
Ev’ry second you’re alive?
Ev’ry second you’re alive?

– Lin-Manuel Miranda
From the Broadway musical, Hamilton

Choices

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I’m beginning my year by finishing some of my projects from the end of the last one. Right before Thanksgiving, I made my final list for the things that needed to get done  for the next three holidays and the end of the year: Gifts to buy, gifts to wrap, teachers’ gifts, mail carrier, hairdresser, my priest, baking, Thanksgiving dinner, Chanukah, latkes, Christmas dinner, Christmas Masses, school responsibilities, holiday cards, clean the house, grocery shopping, and oh yeah, I’ve got that retreat at the Dominican Center exactly between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Too many things to do. Something had to give. I needed this retreat. It was not only spiritual, it was a writing retreat. It was the very things I needed at this time of year, my everything, but did I really have the time for it?

Baking. I decided quite dramatically to skip baking this year. How would the holiday season go on without home baked goods for the teachers and Fr. J and F and the kids?

And then something happened.

It wasn’t that I didn’t care anymore, but…

I. Didn’t. Care. Anymore.

In a good way.

I tried it on for size a couple of times, and made sure that my family knew my intentions. I would not be baking. Except…except for Santa; no cookies, no breads, no nuts, and no caramel. And believe it or not, I was okay with it. I really was.

Not only was this writing retreat exactly what I needed and wanted and longed for, I got more out of it than I expected or could have hoped for.

The quiet inspiration of the poem that prompted us. The prayers. The new friend(s). The peace. There was not a moment all weekend that did not speak to me and reward me for making this choice.

Over the weekend, I was introduced to an inspirational speaker, Rob Bell. His videos are very inspirational and thought-provoking and thoughtful. So much to think about and meditate on. One of those videos was Shells. Please follow the link – it is well worth your ten minutes.

Spoilers to follow: Listening to him talk about the shells and his son’s frustration at not being able to grasp the starfish because his hands were full of shells – well, that moment was like a hammer to my head. My eyes welled up with tears with the pronouncement, no the admission to myself that you can’t do everything. Even if you want to do it or it’s the good thing that you’ve been waiting to do, you can’t do it all.

Choices must be made, and the realization that my no baking mantra of the previous two weeks was more than selfish, it was more than for me, it was important. The revelation that I had made the right choice, and that I could do it again was overwhelming and freeing.