ALL TOGETHER NOW!

We’re locked in a war that’s making us all hostages.   We ‘re all scared. Politics has swallowed up everything else that matters, it seems, until there is no oxygen or energy left for anything else. Some may enjoy the constant combat, but most of us want things to calm down. It’s like the Talking Heads song: How on Earth Did We Get Here? We can blame the politicians, who richly deserve it, but nothing will ever change if we do that.  Politics is about pointing and blaming, to some extent. Maybe, it’s time for us to look at us? If experience is our teacher, what are we learning? What are we teaching? How much of what we’re experiencing in our political system today is about what we choose to see and the meaning we choose to give it?

  This may seem a radical statement, but I don’t think my Liberal Arts Degree was the cakewalk for stoners it was labelled to be. I’m more convinced of this every day. In many ways it’s exactly what we need today. It teaches what so many are looking for: that we’re not alone, that we’re not meant to be, and that we, in fact, never were.  Liberal Arts means a generous, extensive course curriculum. —the big picture. The more information is fragmented and aligned with our preferences, the less useful that information becomes. It provides no navigation tools for turning off the fear, the rage, the confusion we are being fed by our televisions.  But my liberal arts education taught me all I needed to know to combat all of this noise.  Here’s how:

I learned that troublesome people are often my teachers, particularly those I wish I’d never met. When I was at the University of Texas and Vanderbilt University, the schools deliberately paired Engineering students with English majors as roommates.  We thought it a sadistic exercise of power, but this simple practice was a deliberate part of our education.  We mocked each other’s chosen careers and thought the people with whom we had been paired extra- terrestrials. I, as an English major, was in “Arts and Crafts” and “Finger-painting”, and my roommate’s future vocation of Engineer was labelled “Robot” and “Gearhead.”  But when our own skills, mindsets, emotional intelligence, and aptitudes weren’t enough for an educational or life challenge, we borrowed those of our roommates and increased our arsenal for taking on the world. My engineer roommates taught me women could be tough and compete in male- dominated fields, and gave me organizational skills that made me more productive as a writer and artist and eventual lawyer.

I learned the real, comprehensive story of America and its place in the world through the study of world and American history.  I learned how a multitude of disciplines and points of view made us an indomitable whole.  I learned that America had help from other countries, particularly France, in becoming America.. I learned our American system of government, how the branches of government are designed to work, and when they don’t.  History reaffirmed our American values and explained why they were our values in the first place. It gave profiles and examples of courage, heroism, service, and sacrifice. It chronicled our mistakes and recorded them for posterity, so future generations wouldn’t repeat them. Attempts to correct these mistakes are the beginnings of policy.  In the study of history, we got to stand on the shoulders of millions who went before us and learn what their lives taught us, without having to suffer their tragedies. Our history is a gorgeous, unlikely miracle illustrating how the sum of our many parts made a whole of incalculable beauty.

Those “useless” English Literature and foreign language courses gave me the most precious thing possible:  a way to disagree with my friends, and still keep them as friends. They did this by giving me a bridge of language I could use to reach and learn about people unlike me.  Friends did not used to ask each other who they voted for before becoming friends in the first place. It made life so much easier. We had other things to talk about. We were focused on learning each other’s story and walking with them as it unfolded.

A broad- based education has served for generations to be an orientation on everything you want or need to know about America; our history and why it’s important, our heroes, and our children’s potential place in all of this.   It gave me a common story with every other American and gave me the gift of being  part of a giant family, all working together. It’s always the story that matters, that transforms and changes, not whatever technical information we may learn.

My education taught me to stay curious and dive in. That’s the magic bullet for fighting fear. I can say this from personal experience, as a naturally fearful person. For this reason alone, a broad education is worth its weight in gold.

Curiosity allows the mind to open just long enough for it to assimilate new information before fears sets in and stops us. It allowed me the space to ask the 3 questions that keep propelling me forward: What if? Why not? and Who says? I never would have gone to law school if I relied on polling to make my decision. No one thought I could do it, and that made me curious to see if I could. Even more importantly, how can I progress spiritually if I don’t wonder and question?

 Fight or Flight does not provide insight. 

  The antidotes to the terror we all can feel when we look at our world and the safety of our children in it are love, curiosity, and engagement.  The cure for our world and our politics is us—daring to live without fear and throwing ourselves into humanity and watching for what unfolds. No one mentors or transforms themselves.

It all comes down to the two roommates I described in paragraph 3 of this essay. Are they fellow travelers and friends, or enemy combatants? Is life a never-ending adventure and classroom for them or a sentence only to be endured? Is the world something benign and beautiful, or is it menacing and dangerous? Are there infinite possibilities for them? Do they stay in touch? I’ve got to believe that everyone we meet is our teacher, especially those we may wish we never met, that all things and people work together for our eventual good, that our purpose is to keep learning, and that life is most definitely not over after High School.

There is a way for all of us to come home.

10 REASONS TO GOBBLE UP GRATITUDE THIS THANKSGIVING

 

 

  1. Gratitude slaps fear in the face of fear and subdues it. For that reason alone, we must return Thanksgiving Day and Thanksgiving Week to their glory days as full-throated holidays. Not at all coincidentally, thought and conversation about the traditions of Thanksgiving and the reasons for it keep family discussions away from the rolling political disasters and crises that turn discussions into hyper- heated detours from which no one returns alive.

We all need a freaking break. And turning Black Friday into Death Race 2018 isn’t taking a break. Let’s pause long enough to actually remember we like our relatives, so long as we’re not playing Hot Topics truth or dare. Gratitude and inspiration breed hope, and fear takes them away. So, here’s a little dose of hope for the holidays.

2.In light of the California Camp fires and the Paradise Fire, we can be grateful that the relatives sitting around our Thanksgiving Table or celebrating with us from afar are still in our lives, still breathing air, annoying us, challenging us, inspiring us, and lifting us when we fall. To a large extent, they have formed us.

  1. There’s always another source of inspiration just around the corner. The world is full of unsung heroes quietly living their lives, forming a protective circle around us. Of course, we’re so thankful for the first responders in the news today, who keep us safe in ways of which we are only marginally aware. The fact that these people exist in the world, who’ve run into the fire, the flood, the dissolving buildings, is nothing short of a miracle. But, each of our lives is also populated with people who help us and give us the love and courage to be exactly who we are. For every image that inspires fear, there are many more people that inspire faith, courage, and admiration.

4.If we have a roof over our heads, a warm bed to sleep in, a fridge full of food, clean water to bathe with and drink, and clean air to breathe, we’re not only better off than two thirds of the world, we’re better off than cities and counties of the United States of America.This one gets cited often during the holidays, because every day proves its truth.

5.And then there’s holiday fatigue. We can be thankful that we have the right and the means to veg out and take a break, when we need to. There is nothing wrong with a well-timed retreat, if it provides an escape from  the sad, abandoned pets on TV, the ubiquitous Michael Buble’ Christmas CD, the Will Mariah or won’t Mariah have a New Year’s Eve Meltdown? quandary, the frantic trip to the frantic mall with the frantic minions spraying frantic fragrance in our frantic faces, as we frantically check items off our frantic Christmas lists, and prepare to fight with other frantic shoppers in the parking lot!

  1. Art, music, movies, painting, poetry, travel, and each other can all be the difference in a life. A movie, a song, a sonnet, a book, or a trip can live in us like a joyful virus for weeks and months, keeping us strong, and then we get to pass it on! We pass it on by inviting others to enjoy what we enjoy, through groups, retreats, clubs, blogs, videos. Or we can create these inspirational art forms ourselves, if we’re so inclined. We can join with other creatives like ourselves and collaborate. These things and so many others ignite the spark of joy within us. We get to be the neurotransmitters of joy! What could be better than that? These joy- starters are always there, as long as we can see, hear, and move.
  2. We can be thankful for the struggle, for it’s only the struggle that teaches courage, perseverance, when to shut up and listen, when to speak up, and the common sense to know we don’t know enough yet or that more action is required. This year, the struggle has made us bulletproof and bionic.
  3. A late bloomer still blooms. All we need is a pause and a reboot.
  4. Finally, I’m grateful for the fact that God brought each of you into my life, as a continual source of inspiration.
  5. Oh, and coffee!

Without the wonderful aroma, the beautiful-bitter taste and the sizable jolt it provides, we’d never make it out of bed to ponder the imponderables, journey towards purpose, or write or communicate anything intelligible to anyone. Happy Thanksgiving, and thanks to each and every one of you for everything you add to my life.

Need more inspiration?  Click here: https://www.amazon.com/Ignite-Poems-L-E-Kinzie/dp/1635052114/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1468507965&sr=8-1&keywords=kinzie+ignite

 

 

11 REASONS TO BE HOPEFUL THIS THANKSGIVING

 

Hello again, dear friends! I’ve missed you. I’ve been locked in a room for several months chained to my computer, finishing my second book, which it took me 14 years to write and one year to edit. I finally looked up and saw Thanksgiving on the horizon. It’s time to return to the world of humanity.

For me, gratitude is not a Thanksgiving cliché, now replaced with Black Thursday, Black Friday and Cyber Monday. It is the essential remedy of the fear, frustration and confusion living in today’s world can cause on a daily basis. Gratitude and inspiration breed hope and courage; fear takes them away. So, here is a little dose of hope for the holidays.

1) I’m grateful for the French people– even in the wake of the latest round of devastating attacks on Paris– beautiful, proud, un- cowed.

The French response to the fact that one of the terrorists may have pretended to be a Syrian refugee? They not only upheld their commitment to said Syrian refugees, but also deepened that commitment.

The Parisian response to all- out brutality and hatred was not to hide in their homes, but to continue to enjoy the pleasures of their great city, and to live as only the French can. This people have always known exactly whom they are, and what they were made for, and fear will not change that. Their art, culture and joie de vivre have always inspired and served as a model for capturing the best of every moment. Now their strength, resolve and courage do so.

2) I ‘m grateful that there is always another source of inspiration just around the corner. The world is full of unsung heroes quietly living their lives.

Life is bewildering, frustrating, dangerous, and exhausting. Sometimes it makes me simultaneously frightened to death and of the frame of mind, “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore!

But, each of our lives is populated with people who help us and give us the love and courage to be exactly who we are. For every image that inspires fear, there are many more people that inspire faith, courage and admiration.

3) I’m thankful that I am still capable of being inspired by people.

4) I ‘m thankful for the movie, Field Of Dreams, and others like it dealing with faith in the unseen, in one’s self, and the Hero’s Journey. I ‘m thankful for that old Big Daddy Weave song called What I was Made For, which I play frequently when I’m in a funk, and the reminder it provides that I, like each and every one of us, was made by my creator for a specific purpose, and the spiritual journey I must make is finding what that purpose is, sometimes daily.

5) I am so fortunate and grateful that something like a movie, song, or book can live in me like a joyful virus for weeks and months, keeping me strong, and that there are others like me, discussing, forming book clubs, film clubs, artist groups and retreats and other homes away from home.

I get to catch inspiration, use it as fuel to create something from nothing, and hopefully once in a while, pass that inspiration on.

6) I ‘m grateful that there still are books and poetry in the world and that people still read them and love them passionately.

7) I’m doubly grateful that, after so many different directions, careers and mistakes, I am fairly certain my purpose is to create. This certainty stems from these wrong turns and course corrections, all of them essential to the process. It also arises from the fact that, at this point in my life, I can’t refrain or abstain from creating.

More people are writing books now, than there are people who still read. So what? I do this because it is what I was made for. A late bloomer still flowers:)

8) I’m thankful I have a dream. Bringing this dream into being  usually makes me spring out of bed every day with excitement and optimism. At times, it prompts me to spring out of bed with cursing and wailing, but I am thankful that it will, in fact, be born in a few months, and the creative process never ends. It provides me with joy and strength and restores my faith and youth, when the world has worn me out.

9) I am thankful for the struggle. If it was easy, I would have no need for courage, perseverance, help, or the common sense to know I don’t know enough.

10) Mostly I’m grateful for the fact that God brought each of you into my life, as a continual source of inspiration. That makes me feel like the most fortunate person in the world. You are the unsung heroes I refer to in paragraph 2.

11) Oh, and coffee; I can’t forget coffee!

Without the wonderful aroma, the beautiful-bitter taste and the sizable jolt it provides, I’d never make it out of bed to ponder the imponderables, journey towards my purpose, or write or communicate anything intelligible to anyone. Happy Thanksgiving and thanks to each and every one of you!

 

THE PRODIGAL WRITER by L E Kinzie

 

 

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“I have held many things in my hands, and I have lost them all; but whatever I have placed in God’s hands, that I still possess.”

Martin Luther

 

In my twenties, I was a lawyer and proud of it. I was proud of being perceived as powerful and independent, but underneath that pride was a psyche composed of Jell-O and ruled by fear. I had no idea that at the root of most of what I did was greed. I had the first dime I ever made. I was saving for the future. How could that be greedy? I did not trust that there would always be enough and that it was not up to me alone to provide it.

Then, I got married, bought a house and had two kids in very short order. I began to have a mini midlife meltdown in my 30s that lasted for a decade. I had this feeling deep inside that I needed to run away and just escape, but I did not know how to extract myself from the Golden Handcuffs I had willingly put on. I was a horrible person, because everything I did was prompted by the fear of losing that paycheck. I was all bravado and no bravery, because I was trying to “ muscle through” a pervading fear of the future.

God was patiently waiting, while I ignored him and tried to rule and fix my world and myself. Eventually he answered my unspoken prayer for escape.

Someone finally did me the favor of firing me. I went into a tailspin and shook my fist at the heavens. How dare he free me by making me a failure! Who the heck did He want me to be?

Oprah had no answers. I threw myself into every new self- improvement trend that came along and grew progressively angry with God with every failed attempt to become Martha Stewart or Mother Theresa.

Having nowhere else to look, I looked within. I worked a 12 step program on myself and my need to control everything and begin to see that this fallow period was not about God stripping things away from me at all.

The only things he stripped away were my chains. He was actually returning the most precious things to me: the things of childhood. Trust. Hope. Willingness. Surrender. Dreams. Belief. Abandon. Living from the Heart. Knowing I am loved. Play. Play. Play.

 

Finally, I see God was never asking me to change myself, remove all my weaknesses or be strong. He was asking me to remember and return. He was asking me to remember the happy little 10-year-old girl who wrote poems to process her emotions and was closest to God and happiest when she did. I had completely eradicated her memory, but she was who I really was.

Words spewed out of me like a mal- functioning fountain and filled page after page. Eventually all of these words formed a non- fiction book about my long- overdue spiritual and artistic awakening. I started going to artists’ retreats. I started feeling…happy.

Like most writers, I have a non- writing job that pays the bills. Sometimes I get really tired of burning the candle at both ends. But, when that happens it’s because I’ve made a job out of my source of peace and joy, my means of connecting to God and sharing that connection with others. Life and writing become joyous again when I remember to give back to the original Creator all of my creations. Remember, return and repeat, as needed.