Springboards Archives - Laurie Klein, Scribe

Summer Is Here, Are You?

by Laurie Klein 10 Chiming In

This post is for you if:

“Summer” keeps eluding your out-stretched hands

Your last outdoor nap occurred 10 years ago

Weeds (or weedy thoughts) keep overtaking your yard (or mind)

You’re avoiding the beach because of those extra pounds

The kids are bored and driving you crazy

You’re feeling heartsick over current events and looming elections

Jesus, they say you walked this sorry, glorious planet.

They say you experienced all the ways we are beset, worn out, and tempted to run.

They say you were perfect. In every way.

I just have to ask:

Was your last summer among us a blur?

Did you doze in the shade anyway—at least once—no apologies?

Not to be disrespectful, but . . . did you and the 12 ever skinny-dip? No excuses, no shame?

Did you tend a bonfire and greet the stars by name?

Bet you invented games with kids . . . all ages.

Entrusted every woe and injustice to God’s care, as you still do.

When imagination fails, be our inspiration.

When faith shifts and threatens to crack, be our sure foundation.

When we long to bolt, be our strength.

summer regrets

We have summer regrets:

for refusing to rest

for forgetting to honor and nurture our bodies

for hosting fear in our mental guest room

for avoiding annoying tasks and people

for hardening ourselves against too much bad news

for postponing joy

We have summer hopes:

for occasional breaks
and adventures
and good books

for family unity, and personal freedom

for health and fitness

for peace in our world

for breakthroughs in national politics

We pledge to travel lightly today.

We pledge to rest more often, and play more often, no matter how briefly. No guilt. No shame.

We pledge to learn How to Be Here.

Taste and see that the Lord is good:
blessed is the [one] that trusts in him. —Psalm 34:8

Never Left to Our Own Devices

by Laurie Klein 25 Chiming In

So many devices, so little time

Ringtones and beeps and pings—oh my! Too many electronic signals scramble the nerves.

We weary of relentless emails and tweets, texts and updates.

We scratch our heads over new programs and apps for our varied devices.

We research a new appliance, bring it home, then battle “feature-creep” when we all we really want to do is:

record that show
wash our clothes
make a call

Lord of Innovations, thank you for giving us brains and ingenuity.

Thank you for technology’s upside. (Remind us there is an upside.)

Thank you for mentors and podcasts and online tutorials. For classes and colleagues.

We believe in learning.

We know that steep learning curves invite us into Your grace, which heartens and strengthens us.

We believe in applying ourselves. We even believe in mastery—at least as a concept.

But today, we wish life were simpler

Jesus, was it ever dizzying to stay abreast of all those midrash additions local rabbis made to Torah?

When you withdrew to the hills, was it ever due to compassion fatigue?

On a tired day, would you have enjoyed using a GPS while traveling, town to town?

We need to recharge, and not just our devices! So we come to you now, the ultimate power source. You give us free will, and when we ask for help, you intervene. You never leave us to our own devices.

Help us live at the pace we can still hear your voice above distractions and daily interactions.

Help us prioritize today’s tasks, and, if need be, patiently absorb and practice new skills, then create a sane plan for further study.

Above all, help us remember we have the mind of Christ. And grace: sustainable, ever-renewable grace.

Thank you for all the creative ways we can reach you, right now. And that always, always, you are reaching for us.

NOTE: Friends, I will be scaling back on posts over the summer. Look for one or two per month in your Inbox.

Oh, and if you have a moment? Let me know if you’d enjoy an occasional post like this one. Thanks!

Exposure: Risk and Gift

by Laurie Klein 8 Chiming In

Exposure—now there’s a threatening word. Are you up for an armchair adventure?

Let’s play “Exposure: Risk and Gift,” a creativity game I dreamed up, well, just because.

Exposure: Risk beginning, step 1

Using paper (or your device), write I’m afraid 25 times down the left-hand margin
Finish each phrase with whatever comes to mind, without lifting pen from paper (or fingers from keys)
Circle any “I’m afraid” statements that alarmed or surprised or annoyed you

Exposure: Risk writing, step 2

If you read my recent post on the Camperdown Elm, here is the same tree, seen later in the day and from another angle. Trick-or-treat, anyone?

Camperdown Elm with vintage home — Camperdown Elm at Dusk, Poulsbo, WA

Using one of the statements you circled, write a letter, or a list, a poem, or a song, or even a partial scene using one of these phrases below (or one of your own) as a kickstart:

They planted me deep, downhill from the Ferris place, never suspecting . . .
Sleepwalking inside somebody’s nightmare . . .
I never meant to . . .

Or you could write from the viewpoint of someone discovering the cure for Dutch Elm Disease . . .

Play with possibilities, no matter how crazy, and see what happens. Sometimes free writing unearths an emotion that’s “under the radar,” eating at your inner peace.

Exposure: Offer a gift, step 3

The Camperdown Elm in November dusk (first two photos) looks pretty creepy.

The Camperdown Elm below was taken in April, in afternoon light.

Camperdown Elm at Filoli Garden, Woodside, California

Margaret Atwood once said: So much depends on the light, and the way you squint.

Now take what you’ve risked writing so far and “gift it” with one or two of the following:

A favorite time of day, or weather
A new character
A quote or proverb you love

Follow wherever the words want to take you. Stop when you feel done.

Read back what you’ve written. Has the overall mood and/or meaning changed?

Have your thoughts about the underlying fear you identified changed?

Exposure: Optional

Consider emailing me what you created. I’d love to read it!

Was this experiment interesting or enlightening?

Would you enjoy a similar creative prompt from time time?

p.s. To see a stunning full view of the Filoli Camperdown Elm tree in bloom as well as the fabulous winged seedpods in close-up, click here. (scroll to image #5)

Bite, or Flight? 4 Gifts of Attentiveness

by Laurie Klein 2 Chiming In

Ah, the siren call of the backyard rhododendron. Thick leaves gleam in the morning sun. I grab my camera, wedge my feet into black garden clogs, and squelch across lawn still bright with dew.

To my squeamish delight, this weird little bug appears, bright as a split lemon.

Will it bite? Does it fly?

I snap shot after shot, serenely transfixed. Spider or bug? What is it?

Two words swim up: Pay Attention. An order. A plea. A guiding phrase.

[Read more…]