Alone

So recently, I’ve gotten hooked on this new show ALONE.  It’s a fascinating premise: 10 men go out into the wilderness and see who can live there the longest. The catch is that they do not know how many people are left or how long they will have to stay.  You could call it a psychological drama although there are plenty of “action” scenes featuring bears, cougars and wolves.  

http://www.history.com/shows/alone

SPOILER ALERT:  One of the things I find most interesting is that 6 of the men leave the first week.  More than half!!!  And all of them  had been talking about staying 9 months to a year.  

So, on ALONE  they get to bring 10 items to help them secure Water, Shelter, Food and Fire  

(Side note: What 10 items would you bring?   I have so far settled on 
     1. Flint and Iron
     2. Large knife (for example a machete....for killing things)
     3. Smaller Knife (for gutting)
     4. Rope
     5. Tarp
     6. Another Tarp
     7. Fishing String
     8. Ax
     9. Net or lures (can’t decide)
     10. ?

Fan Favorite: This guy is ready to go get himself a mouse to eaBig Knife (like machete sized for killing)

Fan Favorite: This guy sewed eyes on his hat to scare the cougars

Fan Favorite: This guy brought his "teacher glare" 

It’s interesting that those who made it through the first week started to embark upon a new level of psychological drama.  Food became a spiritual experience.  They began to reflect on who they were and why they were.  They got bored...really, really bored and beneath that boredom lay a sense of pointlessness.

David and I joked that we should make an equal and opposite show called “Never Alone” or “Stay at Home Mom.”  Because since I have become one I never have “personal” time, space, belongings, or even food.  And aside from the bears, cougars and wolves, the same drama unfolds.  I question who I am, why I am.  I get bored of our routines, the mundane food, water, safety that I feel on one hand I take for granted and on the other is ultimately out of my control.  

Fan Favorite: This guy brought an uncanny ability to quote English Literature at length.

It made me think of the sermon our pastor preached on Sunday.  We are all going to die.  We do everything to avoid it, to avoid even thinking about it but we know it.  He said that David in the Bible wanted to know when he was going to die, so that he could “number his days aright.”  In other words, not waste that time.  And I began to question, what is going to last?  What makes life worth living?  And I could think of only two things ...God and Love ( I know since “God is love” that is a bit redundant).  But when the tent pegs of my life pull out and I feel unstaked, and unsafe I want God to be there.  When I feel meaninglessness howling in my heart I want love to overflow.  

Guest Blogger: Hey Little Harbor Writer

The following post is by one of my former students. I am continually inspired by her drive, vivacity and hopeful spirit.  I am honored to post her work here.  

         

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Getting off my flight from Seattle and going straight home from the airport was exciting. I did not see my bed for a good week and missed it so much! My dad opened the front door and I instantly saw a yellow package. I had forgotten I signed up for the Writer's Workshop Program  held in UMass Boston and did not expect for the paperwork to come so soon.  I took my pen and started filling in my information needed but eventually got yelled at by my mom for my sloppy handwriting. July 6th the program started and that’s when everything in my life changed… well in my writing life, that is. 

I finally sat in a classroom where everyone loved to write and all had an equal amount, if anything, more talent than me in writing. I was with “my people.”  The people I had been searching for. The ones who prefer ink time over screen time. For four weeks, I spent four hours a day four days a week improving my writing skills.  I worked on script writing, creative writing, article writing, and all the other fun types of writing. No piece of work was ever neglected, anything written was always admired and was always encouraged to be continued. We named ourselves the Harbor Writers (we had a view of the harbor from our classroom and would turn to the windows when we needed inspiration for our writing)

Free writes took place for twenty minutes every afternoon and discussions followed right after where the groups divided by high school and middle school were allowed to share their thoughts and wonderful writing. 

We were then given an hour for lunch where many memories were created and friendships became more developed. Laughs and jokes always arose from our two tables and an hour never felt like enough.  

After lunch, we were given some focused writing assignment where a certain project was given and students had to create a piece of writing using the project outline. On the nice summer days where it wasn't too humid, we did these assignments in the courtyard outside of the classroom giving us a chance to feel the fresh air and feel blessed for our surroundings.

When the program approached an end, the class put together three of their most cherished writings for our anthology. To top off our amazing and improved writing skills, the class invited family members, teachers, and any other person making a big involvement in their writing careers to a reading. Each student was allowed to read one out of their three pieces of writing to the audience of supporters. This program overall allowed me to improve in my writing, speaking, AND expanded my heart for all the people I met in this program. I did not know what kind of experience I would be sailing into but I docked my boat and stayed for the experience. The Harbor Writers have found a special home in my heart and I will never forget any of those four wonderful weeks!

This is the piece I chose to perform for the audience… ENJOY!

Hey Little Fighter 

Hey little fighter 

Soon things will get brighter

For you are not the size you wear 

or the color of your hair

You are not the color of your skin 

or anything bad said about you 

You are the words you speak 

You are the love in your heart 

You are the smile that brightens each day 

You are beautiful 

So keep your head up 

You are made up of so much beauty 

Please do not forget 

‘For the things that you think define you 

Means absolutely nothing at all 

I'm back...again

Coming up with the title of this post was tough because I have had so many starts and stops I kind of feel bad hating on the fifth or sixth iteration of a movie, book or device because I worry I am turning into that: KD returns, KD Part IV, KD 6S... Anyway, here is where I am at... I wrote an email, many of you hopefully received it.  If not I am extending it to you now: 

              

  Dear friends, acquaintances and casual readers of all sorts.,

                 I have been on a sort maternity leave* from writing but I think it’s time I dive back in.  I’m so grateful for the way you have all supported me. Even a single click on this page boosts my confidence as a writer so if it was an accident, it was a happy one for me:)  I could not keep this blog alive without readers and guest bloggers.  I love the variety of talent that I get to post here: photographs, lyrics, slices of life, random thoughts, short stories, essays...All of it brings me great joy. 

 So please, I’m asking for your feedback either here in the comments or on the Facebook page...

1. Would you be willing to be a guest? 
2. What would you like to see more of one this blog as we restart?  

My touchstone for Penned but Not Published has always been HOPE.  It is my hope and dream to be published but JOY is equally important to me and if the ink never stamps my name onto a “real book” this writing journey will have been fruitful nonetheless.  

*In case you were curious where I have been the past year or so here is the short version.  I got very very ill with hyper-emesis during my pregnancy(yes, the same illness as the Princess/ Dutchess Kate Middleton but so much less glamorous)  with my third baby.  My friends and family picked me up and carried me through those 9 months.  I literally (and I hate when that is over or mis-used...so I say it with confidence and flare...) would not have made it without them, well without you all (most likely).  And then, after multiple trips to the ER, several rounds of rehydration, countless doctor’s visits (to which I had to be driven), and in the midst of yet another insane snowstorm my youngest was born.   Here she is.  She is small, very small, but worth every moment of discomfort and pain it took to bring her here. (I hope you all agree, especially those of you who cleaned my house, drove me, helped me walk, and watched my other kids) 

So cheers to Hadley Olive.  I love her and hope you will too (in a non-creepy, we love to read about all her cute milestones, sort of way).  

Katie Noel Parsons May

So, today at midnight (or tomorrow morning technically) my first writing piece in ages goes live on The Prodigal Chair.  I am SO nervous- not just because I haven’t written in a while.  I am happy to end that silent streak.  

No, I am nervous because I wrote about my dearest friend Katie Noel Parsons and it was hard.  I haven’t written about her in the 4 years since we last spoke.  I’ve wanted to.... but it seemed too sacred a subject.  I’m still convinced I didn’t get it quite right.  I didn’t do justice to the way she changed my life forever.  

I am nervous because there are so many of you who knew her longer or better.  Please forgive my inadequacies, I think that she would.  She saw the best in me...in everyone she met. I miss her every day.    

The good news is that I got to go through tons of old journals and emails that made me laugh over our many escapades.  I got to re-view her memorial (I used a photo from it I hope that is okay.)  I got to read her obituary which I had never done.  My favorite line was ... “Canoes will be gathering in Redfish Lake, Idaho to candles being lit  in Chernovtsky, Ukraine.”  She changed the whole world.  

Snowmageddon 2015

I know I said I loved the snow, and I do.  However, today really put that love to the test.

Today, I knew we needed to go to the store, since there has only been a day between the last 4 blizzards, so stocking up is necessary.  However, I had heard that the windchill was going to make it feel like -25.  I pride myself on being a born and raised New Engander and I didn’t want my little one’s faces to literally freeze off (they are already windblown and eczema covered as it is.)  So, I checked and between 10-1pm it wasn’t supposed to be in the negatives.  I, then, checked that the store where we were headed was indeed open despite it being President’s Day.  It was opening in the next half hour.  Thus, I bundled them all up (with far less grace and love than I could have... but I did it) and we set off.  The cold was enough to make a grown man cry let alone a 2 and 4 year old.  So, by the time we were all “strapped in” things were already pretty emotional in the car.

These days in Massachusetts, there are only shades of white, grey, blue, brown mush.  There are no more lines on the road.  The medians are 15-20 foot walls of snow. Everything looks like a shell of whatever lay beneath before the storms.  But hardly anyone ventured out today so the driving was not too bad.

We reached Costco. (I use the name only to warn you it is closed... I still like and depend upon the store.)

And it was closed (as I already mentioned.)

Yup, no sign, no explanation just closed.  It totally baffled people; some drove by several times just to make sure their eyes did not deceive them, some were just waiting in their cars.  I felt brave enough to get out and look inside.  It looked abandoned, grates fastened shut, no one in sight. I retreated to my car and called the administrative line because I’m nosey and easily annoyed.  A very polite man informed me that it was closed due to snow...hmm...snow.  Mind you, it is not snowing today, and yet the sheer amount of snow still was causing some unseen problems that closed down a whole warehouse without warning.


My 4-year old son overheard the conversation and his response was, “Oh great,
now all the people need food and no one can get any.”  Ok maybe he is a little extreme (like me?) seeing the apocalypse in every closed grocery store.  Anyway not to be deterred we headed over to a smaller although still “Super” store.  I mean “the people” needed food and we were gonna get it!

The shelves and aisles were as expected, pretty empty.  I had to scrounge around for the potatoes I wanted and they were out of the bread we like best- not a huge deal.  Still, the kids became restless, I became dissatisfied and annoyed.  So finally and carefully I reassemble their hats, mittens, and coats. Then, I thoughtlessly push out into the parking lot.

Almost immediately, the cart tipped over.  I could feel it but my 9 month pregnant body just isn’t as agile or strong as usual (despite what my guided relaxation tapes may tell me.)  I was using my entire strength to make sure my son did not get trapped beneath this monstrosity, which was essentially in the middle of the road.  My daughter’s hat had flown off and she was hanging parallel to the pavement slowly slipping from the metal seat in front.  I thought about trying to reach out to grab her but the cart started to slide again.

Then, something great happened.  Strangers came to my rescue.  This was SO not a typical New England response.  I was shocked.  One grabbed my daughter, another pulled my son out of harms way and someone else helped me right the cart.  None of us spoke the same language, which on one hand I regretted because I wanted to thank them for saving me, but on the other hand was grateful for because I was afraid they would point out what a thoughtless move I had made.  However, their faces were so kind- windblown and frozen- but kind.

And so, now that we are all warm and recovered, I still love snow.  Maybe even a little more than before because it forces us to work together, to rely on each other.