Inspiration comes in strange places.

Recently I attended a conference were we were given two hours to plan, then present a fifteen minute interactive demonstration on something related to the quilting machine that I own.

The thirty people I was with had so much more experience teaching stuff about the machine and the software so I reached into the recesses of my artistic mind.  What can I do that is different, yet comfortable?  So...I taught on one part of the process of making an art quilt.

I can talk to a fence post and expect a conversation but to limit talking about something I love doing to fifteen minutes was an interesting task, and I had fun doing it.  Several of the participants indicated that they enjoyed the presentation and wanted to try it.

It'll be weeks before I get the feedback from the presentation and by then my mind will be a million miles away.  Yet I realize that what's most important is that when I got home yesterday I realized I hadn't done anything like this since Daddy got really sick in January, 2017.  It's past time because the only thing I love more than designing these is coloring them after it is stitched.  

The presentation inspired ME!

So.  Today.

Journal about a time when you were put in a situation that was uncomfortable at the time but ended up inspiring YOU.

Jumpstart my day

Today there is a long list of stuff I need to get done, much of it with deadlines attached...

...and, honestly, I don't really care.

Ok...I do care or I wouldn't be blogging about it,  but I just want to sit and mentally whine about how weary I am.

However, cup of coffee in hand, I'm going to do my best to take charge of this day, and attempt to tackle (and hopefully complete) only one task at a time.

How?  The method that has, over the years, worked best for jumpstarting my day is to use a timer.

At moments when life gets overwhelming, all I have to do is make one choice: set a timer for ten or fifteen minutes, then, during that time, attempt only one thing.

For example, if I need to clean the kitchen I set my phone for fifteen minutes, then I clean the kitchen.  

Just the kitchen.

This method means I don't clean out drawers, tackle the clutter on the dining room table, or carry the Amazon box to the trash.  I don't take stuff to my shop or my bedroom.  I don't move laundry or check my phone.

I do One. Thing. At. A. Time. Once the timer goes off, I reset it again for the same amount of time and continue. 

It's something I've done for so many years that it actually (sort of) becomes fun.  When my chore is complete I tackle the next thing on my list.

And.  Most important.  I schedule myself a timed rest/water/potty break every hour.


For those of you who are naturally organized, this method may sound silly.  However, for those of us who have thought processes that, at best can be compared to a ping pong game and, at worst, can resemble the screen of a television where a remote is continually changing channels without me pushing the button, a coping mechanism like this has become a necessity. 

I never cease to be amazed at how much I can do in just fifteen minutes of concentrated effort.  


How about you?  Journal about your strategy for dealing with the "I don't wanna's" in your life.  Does your strategy work?  If so, why.  If not, is there something you can do?

I hate driving in traffic.  We live in a rural area and my idea of a traffic jam is two cars at the four way stop sign, but yesterday I found myself driving on the Texpress lanes of I-35 E and I-635 in Dallas...

...during a thunderstorm.  

...with my husband in the passenger seat.  

Why?  Because Albert tweaked his knee over the weekend and needed to get it checked out.  He had a STEM cell injection in that particular knee in late April and his doctor is an hour and fifteen minutes away.  

With the Lord's help we arrived.  I was a little short tempered but my sanity was intact.


ON the way home, during rush hour traffic on the westbound Texpress lanes of I-635, I witnessed the worst accident I've ever seen.  A small SUV that had been zipping and swerving in and out of traffic on the wet four lane toll road didn't notice that traffic had stopped in front of us.

The little black vehicle, still at highway speed, suddenly swerved from the inner lane, across all four lanes of traffic toward the outer one, then applied brakes much too late, and went into a skid.

A few seconds behind I watched the whole episode happen in the lane in front of me. I can still see the violence of the crash in my mind, the SUV hitting the Bobtail gravel truck with such force and speed that the back end of the car flipped up and forward ninety degrees, smashing the roof of the vehicle against the tailgate of the truck.  Then it bounced down and to a stop.

I still feel unsettled because, even though I had slowed appropriately for the upcoming traffic jam, I couldn't stop; there was no way or place to safely do so.  There was no movement in the car, only the sight of the deployed airbags.

Albert picked up my cell phone and called 911 as I began to cry. Tearful prayers alternated with mumbling about how stupid the SUV was, and how terrible I felt for the driver of the dump truck.  Albert gave the dispatcher the approximate location and asked them to get an ambulance there as soon as possible.


Turns out that there were two more wrecks in front of us on that short stretch of toll road. As I inched forward I thought about the driver of the dump truck and anyone who was in the little SUV.  Then, as now, I felt so angry with the driver of the vehicle.   Maybe I'm being judgmental but I had dodged impatient drivers who were zipping in and out of traffic all day and had resorted to saying nasty things about them, not always under my breath.  Yet somehow I feel terrible that this person paid so dearly for such a thoughtless action.


About twenty five minutes and three miles later, just as we were about to clear the backup, an ambulance sped by us on the shoulder.  I will probably never know the rest of this story.  I don't even know exactly what I'm supposed to pray for, but ultimately I know that nothing happens in God's world by accident. I was there for His reason.

That is the only way I know how to make sense of such a senseless tragedy.

So.  Today.  Journal about a time when you wanted to throw something at someone, but after prayer realized that God had a lesson for you.

Curiosity vs. common sense

I am a naturally curious person.

However, about five years ago I realized that I was getting way to comfortable in my rut.  I craved rhythm and routine in my life and was becoming even more of a control freak than I normally am. I made a conscious decision to try to correct the fact that my sphere of comfort was getting smaller and smaller,

I wanted to try new things and spend less time worrying. Writing tends to help me sort through what is going on in my head and get to what is in my heart. Often, since that time, my curiosity and common sense seem to butt heads.

Some notable instances:  I tried escargot and sushi. I liked them both. I began to learn gluten free cooking.  There were some things I made that were less than...um...palatable. One time even the chickens wouldn't eat it...    

I took a sewing class in Syracuse New York.  I had never traveled by myself, much less gone that far away.  Turns out that the teacher, an elderly nun, forgot to pick me up at the airport as scheduled. Common sense told me one thing, but curiosity told me something completely different, so...after calling the woman and getting no answer, then standing around the airport for an hour feeling forgotten and pathetic, I got a cab and found my own way to the retreat site where I sat in the driveway for two hours until she got there. What an experience!

Trying to break into teaching in the crafting world has been a constant war between curiosity and common sense.  I've asked, offered, and made cold calls to different shops locally seeking opportunity.  I've been on the receiving end of cold looks, rude remarks, and out and out blank stares.  Four times I have been scheduled to teach and ended up with no students after I spent weeks preparing.  Once it was not my fault, once I bowed out gracefully, but twice it was as much due to my lack of knowledge of modern self promotion as it was to the owner of the shop (which has since been closed)...and that was before the experiences I have had teaching for Joann.

I came face to face with the fact that although I was making my living as a graphic artist, everything I did was created with a mouse and a computer program and I was loosing the hand to eye coordination needed to draw with pencil and paper...so I began to sketch again.  I now post my sketches and doodles on Instagram at jackiezbeme.  My common sense says not to risk the potential for negative comments, but my curiosity leads me in a different direction.

Much of what I am attempting to do professionally requires an internet presence, something that hasn't come naturally to me. I'm a fairly good amateur photographer but learning to take photos that appeal to the modern aesthetic (not grandma pictures as someone called some of my early attempts) has meant retraining my eye.  Figuring out how to produce YouTube videos has been another challenge.  One of my videos has a less than stellar 14 views, but another has over 500 hits! Far from viral but a good beginning.

I just threw away a drawer full of patterns I was asked to design for a quilt shop about an hour away.  Yes, I dumped them in the trash.  I was tired of feeling pitiful because what I had hoped to be my big break into the craft world had ended up being a big bust.  Now I choose to feel grateful that I was smart enough to get out of the deal before I lost any more money and she claimed any more of my designs. 

I've learned to .pdf patterns and write tutorials, but the learning curve for operating an Etsy shop or a web site of my own has yet to be conquered.  I keep at it though.

All I can say is that each day I try to make a conscious decision to reconcile curiosity and common sense in an effort to manage risk yet still expand my horizons.  I can only handle this delicate balance when I choose to look at what I learn instead of thinking that I risk ridicule or imagining how things won't end well.

So.  Today.  Journal about a time when your curiosity get the best of you and how you dealt with that.
Happy journaling.


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Last night I taught a hand embroidery class at Joann in Denton, Texas.  I had received the email notifications that the section had "made" and had tried to contact the store manager to confirm the class but had received nothing in return.

When I got to the classroom I found out that the store manager had assigned the class to another teacher without telling me.

This other woman, who had been asked to teach the class only a couple of days earlier was. very. upset.  I was annoyed but consciously chose to act like a professional and abide by whatever the store manager, who had already left for the day, decided.

The decision was in my favor, as the class had been assigned to me three months previously.

When the shunned teacher got back to the Joann classroom to pick up her teaching materials, I had already started to prepare for the class.  This woman suddenly began to soundly and loudly criticize my handwork, the samples I brought, my stitches, even the type of thread I use.  I stood shocked and speechless while a woman I had never met verbally condemned my technique, my ability teach....

I was so stunned that this person was being so rude that I was unable to quite comprehend what was happening. Other than the fact that I was so embarrassed  that I wanted to melt into the woodwork, I stood there shocked, thinking that this couldn't possibly be happening.  Thankfully I had enough wits about me to make a conscious choice to continue to act like a professional and not say what I was thinking.

I kept hoping that she would surely end the tirade soon, but when that didn't happen, I quietly thanked her for the observation and turned my back on her.

When I looked up a few moments later, this woman was standing, half-hiding behind a shelf just outside the classroom, complaining to an assistant manager about my handwork, etc.  The scorned teacher kept this up until, a moment later, I realized that the store manager had also left without leaving any of the materials that Joann is supposed to supply for the class, so I walked up to the employee and asked if she could get someone to provide what I needed.

The other woman finally wondered away.

Once I got back to the classroom I was shaking in anger.  However, I took a deep breath and madethe conscious choice that I wasn't going to let the personal attack ruin the class.  I love to teach and I'm good at it.  I do my best to instill a love of handwork and I am very aware that while my embroidery is beautiful, tasteful and my stitches small and consistent, as the other lady so bluntly stated, it isn't perfect.

I'm okay with that. I am who I am. I like it that way.

So.  Today.  Journal about something that you like about yourself that isn't perfect, what choices you made to bring that about, and why you like it that way.

Outside my Comfort Zone

God gave me a gift as a teacher.  If given the opportunity, I can teach anyone anything if they want to learn.  And I love, Love, LOVE to teach all things crafty.  Tonight I am privileged to be showing three students how to do simple hand embroidery stitches at Joann in Denton, Texas.

I can talk to a fence post and expect a conversation, am blessed to have an aptitude for writing and can speak to a crowd with no problem. I have to talk or, even better, write, to think.

However, there is a price I pay for that ability.

God in His infinite wisdom gave me a personality that is an odd mixture of "loud and wanting/ needing/craving the spotlight" followed swiftly by "get me the heck outta here because I have no idea what to say or do".  

Before I read about this personality type, known as an introverted extrovert, I thought I was crazy. For most of my life I couldn't understand the strange mixture that constitutes my innermost being.  The talents and abilities I've been given plus a love of the limelight is bookmarked by an almost desperate need for solitude so I can recharge.

A life well lived, including the teaching that I love, is often outside of my comfort zone and requires repeatedly making choices that give me the opportunity to teach or be social AND recharge, ever broadening my self imposed boundaries.  

How about you?  

Is there something you want, long for, that is outside your comfort zone?   What is required of you to reach that?

Full of Love

The last eighteen months of my father's life were a constant lesson in counting our blessings, every extra day we were given was part of a greater miracle.

At his passing, the outpouring of love and support, the Facebook messages, visits to my parents' home, as well as those who gave of their time to bring food, or attend the Visitation, Funeral Service or Internment was an amazing, comforting and humbling experience.

So.  Today.  Journal about a time when something you would rather avoid became, instead, a blessing.

Adulthood

I am 58 years young, but sometimes, when presented with the trials of life, I mentally stomp my foot, look up at God and firmly announce that I am too young for this s&@  uhh… stuff! 

I remember driving up at the funeral home last week after the death of my Daddy, thinking "I can't do this...I can't do this...God, I really can't do this."  

But, with His help, I took a deep breath and did my best to take care of the task at hand. 

My attempts were nowhere near perfect but adulthood is about doing my best, whatever that may be.   

So.  Today.  Journal about a task, trial or event that you didn't WANT to handle, but you did.  

Attitude

This morning, in my journal, I jotted down memories of my father.  Silly things like, when I was a girl he didn't eat rice (wait, that never changed…), and he preferred jalapenos on his pizza.  I described what he called pork and bean sandwiches. 

There is a note about the hundreds of pounds of pecans he picked out every year, the tomatoes and peppers he grew when I was a girl, and all the times I got into the stinging nettle in the garden even though he showed me over and over what the offending plant looked like. 

I am tired beyond belief, numb with grief, but somehow consciously choosing to preserve the good thoughts helps so much.  

How about you?  

What memories can you journal about today that can help turn an ordeal into an adventure?

In Honor of my Father

My father was buried yesterday.  
I am numb with grief yet at peace.  

Born during the great depression, Daddy grew up in a house without plumbing or electricity; as a young man he hitched a wagon, plowed fields then served in the Korean Conflict. He married, had children, farmed, and drove a school bus for thirty three years.  

A quiet, humble, yet sometimes infuriating man, he left a loving wife, two children, six grandchildren and fourteen great grandchildren. 


The outpouring of love and condolences has been nothing short of amazing.  After a service honoring him, the Patriot Guard escorted his body from the church to the cemetery. An honor guard from Fort Hood played Taps and executed a perfect flag folding ceremony.  He would have been genuinely surprised at the outpouring of love and caring.  

Yuton died with a look of peace about him.  Even though his life was full of physical suffering from a long term and debilitating back condition, heart issues, COPD and a handful of other health problems, he never complained.  He wasn't perfect but he somehow danced to the music life chose for him.  

How about you?

How are you choosing to dance?  

In memory of 
Yuton H. Harris

Sidetracked

Sidetracked.  Yup, that's me.  

I have good intentions but suddenly my attention is drawn in another direction and what I wanted/needed/intended to do goes uncompleted.

Unfortunately that happens to me more often than I'd like to admit.  

If I'm honest, though, I'm often sidetracked simply because I didn't choose to complete the task at hand...or procrastination...or a lack of self discipline...or my give-a-flip is broken...or I'd rather mindlessly flip through Facebook or Pinterest or Instagram...or I'm daydreaming...or I just don't want to work on whatever-it-is.

In our multi-tasking world we are constantly bombarded with interruptions in our personal and professional lives both from without and within.  Add family to that mix and intrusions on our thought processes are the norm.  Is it a wonder that we are a nation of sidetracked individuals?  

So.  Today.  Journal about a few of the ways you end up sidetracked.   

Happy Journaling.

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