#SOL 2021

The White Noise of Revising and Editing ~#SOL 7/31 2021

| Shari Daniels

I cringe when I reread past blog posts. In just rereading yesterday’s entry on delights, I was halted when I noticed I’d used “in which” in the SAME stinkin’ sentence! How is it that my eyes couldn’t catch that the first time through? I have so many blind spots that my blind spots have blind spots.

My energy spikes in the story catching and drafting stages of writing. If I could just reside in this part of writing forever, I would be in enchanted waters from here on out. There is a perpetual bliss, a euphoria, a heightened sense of groundedness and connection with all things alive in the universe. It’s what keeps bringing me back to my notebook each day.

You know what I despise?

Choosing. Revising. Editing. Publishing.

After I hit publish each day, a residual white noise of rambling “did you’s” follow me around all day, taunting me like a playground bully.

Did you choose a topic that anyone even cares about? I don’t know. I honestly don’t. After I write something, sometimes even I don’t care about it. “Fer dumb”, I hear a voice say. My mother used to say this when my dad would get mad about stupid stuff. “You were going to write all your posts about rituals and here you are writing about mistakes!” I hear. Oh well. . . I derail. Fail again.

Did you make sure you revised any episodes of your ego trying to portray itself? Erase all evidence of this face. This includes: victim, martyr, preacher, prosecutor, politician, narcisist, self-righteousness, savior, super-hero, know-it-all, and especially, white privledge.

These are big revisions – sometimes an entire post gets dumped if I catch myself talking in these voices, ego is tricky. A prior post in which (there’s the “in which” again) notebooks are the center of my writing feels privledged. I mean, only those with a pillowed life can have time to wrestle about the texture and size of the notebook they write in. People have bigger things in life to worry about – how to pay bills, find a job, or overcome grief. And, I whine about notebooks? It bothers me and I hesitate to share these kind of discomforts with the world. Some would say, “Wake up.” or “Get a life.”

And, Madame know-it-all loves to linger in the background of my words. In my PhD program, we were taught to write with authority. Authority? Yeah – you have to write like you know what you’re talking about. Even though, I honestly believe that the more I know, the less I realize I really know. What really do we know for sure? What works one day might not work the next. New research keeps debunking the old research.

We are all just bozos on the bus hanging on for the ride. Elizabeth Lesser wrote that in a book I read. Which brings me to:

Did you check for plagiarism? Heaven knows nothing is your idea, you know. Give credit to where credit is due. You are not the inventor of some of these beautiful phrases of which you key into these posts. But, some of them, I’m not sure where they even came from anymore. So, there’s that, too.

Did you make sure you did a clean editing sweep? Editing is laborious. But, I do know some of my repetitive faults and when you know what you are not good at, your lens for this refines. Verb tense ranks at #1. I’ll write in past tense and present tense in the same dang sentence and you know what? It sounds good to my ears. I won’t see it until the next day. Repetitive words is #2. I have my favs. I really should write them all out and just go through the list at the end of a post: in which, angst, for Pete’s sake. Spelling is #3. Actually,  it would be #1, but spell check catches half of my errors. I inherited my spelling gene from my father. I’m sure there are more, but they are still blind spots there, too.

All this resistance can keep one from ever sharing anything with the world.

Maybe this post should preface all my posts so the reader has more empathy for me. Writing for the world is hard. It puts us out there for persecution. Such bravery it takes. I love the safe place of my notebook, but it’s this kind of publishing that I need more practice at. We make our students share their writing with us ALL. THE. TIME. Do we ever consider how brave that is?

There it is: Kids are braver that we are. Perhaps it’s because they have less to be afraid of.

But, what do I know. . .

I am participating in the 14th Annual SOL 2021 March challenge. For 31 days, I will attempt to write and share a small slice of life from my days. If you’d like to read more of today’s slices from other teacher-writers, please head over to twowritingteachers, who have also committed to this challenge.

“Teachers who practice their subject – who think about them in their own time – can show students a way of life.” ~Diana Senechal

Delights of the Day~ #SOL 7/31 2021

| Shari Daniels

Upon reading Caitlin’s post yesterday about all the things that make her happy, I was reminded of Ross Gay’s Book of Delights in which he writes an essayette every day for an entire year as he attends to and records delights that captured his attention. It made me wonder how many episodes of delight I could capture in one day. So, I thought I would try. Here goes:

*waking in the morning without an alarm

*knowing I can linger in bed a little longer on a Saturday

*rolling over under my covers to do child’s pose before crawling out of bed

*my bare feet meeting the soft rug beside my bed and sliding into my slippers

*an early morning text message from my husband with a photo of the morning sunrise on the lake he is ice fishing on with his buddies, he knowing I love sunrises

*greeting Ella who waits for me to rise from my bed to be fed, her tail wagging

*the tall glass of lemon water I drink before coffee

*coffee – need I say more? In a handcrafted mug from my daughter

*tending to Ella and filling her bowl with water and her dish with food, she kisses me on the nose in gratitude

*a step outside with my coffee to breathe in the early morning air-it may hit 50 degrees today

*writing – and everything that goes with writing – the warmth, filling my pen with ink, hand-scribing, discoveries

*a conversation with my son as he works on his truck – my awe at how he can fix things

*a walk outside listening to Naomi Shihab Nye with Krista Tippet on a podcast

*the warmth prompting me to take my jacket off and tie is around my waist

*squishy mud on the road of which ooze around my shoe

It’s not even 10:00 am yet and my morning is bursting with delights, many intentional.  I confess that my days are set up for this. Liz Gilbert said somewhere that our mental well-being is a 24 hour job. We work as a side gig. This is true for me. 

The feel good chemicals in my brain, dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin and endorphins need continuous drips throughout my day for optimal well-being. I can’t leave things to chance. 

A funny thing happens when you begin recording delights. Even if you plan for them to occur, you begin to notice delights everywhere. Our delight muscle is strengthened. All of them are screaming for your attention!

And, did you know that if you share your delight with someone, the benefits are two-fold? You experience it again, AND you share that joy with someone else so they feel it, too.  Also, if you’ve written it down, every time you reread it, you experience it again. 

Who doesn’t need more of that in their life right now?

I am participating in the 14th Annual SOL 2021 March challenge. For 31 days, I will attempt to write and share a small slice of life from my days. If you’d like to read more of today’s slices from other teacher-writers, please head over to twowritingteachers, who have also committed to this challenge.

Poetry Friday ~ The Neighbor’s Dog Will Not Stop Barking ~#SOL 5/31 2021

| Shari Daniels 
The Neighbor’s Dog Will Not Stop Barking 

The neighbor’s dog will not stop barking
My body - Thursday Tired and aching to sleep
A rhythmic infliction of pain to my ears
three quick barks
And a fourth staccato 
Repeat repeat repeat
There are no verses
Only chorus after chorus
Repeating Repeating Repeating . . .

How can the neighbors not hear?
Why do they allow their dog to pierce and torment
the peaceful night’s air?
What could possibly be causing it to bark?
When will this torture end? 
Will I go crazy?

I wrap my half dozen blankets around my head
begging begging and praying praying for this to end

Memories of my father’s distress at barking dogs
Incessant at night when he could not sleep
Seep into my cocoon of auditory protection
One time - he stomping out of his bedroom and
In his bathrobe and slippers
driving on the three-wheeler
To the neighbors with a bb-gun
Or maybe it was an old boot
To put an end to the neighbor's barking dog . . .

Poor cupcake my little sister said

The memory made me smile
knowing he is still here

And, then. .  . I must have fallen asleep.

©by Shari L. Daniels, fierce despiser of dogs who bark at night

Poem draft inspired by Billy Collin's poem: Another Reason Why I Don't Keep a Gun in the House and
the fact that I could not sleep last night due to the neighbor's barking dog.

I am participating in the 14th Annual SOL 2021 March challenge. For 31 days, I will attempt to write and share a small slice of life from my days. If you’d like to read more of today’s slices from other teacher-writers, please head over to twowritingteachers, who have also committed to this challenge. It's also Poetry Friday! If you'd like to read other poems from teachers, authors and poets participating in Poetry Friday, you can visit Kathryn Apel's lovely blog as she hosts today's poets. Please join us in the sharing of a poem on Fridays!

When teachers write themselves, they are able to draw from their inner curriculum they have shaped for themselves in which to model and teach their students. But, more than this, as human beings, we also cultivate a writing practice that can be a buoy and and an anchor in the turbulent waters of our lives.