 "She was fascinated with words. To her, words were things of beauty, each like a magical powder or potion that could be combined with other words to create powerful spells." --Dean Koontz
I am reading a book called What is your What? by Steve Olsher. Actually, I'm picking through it slowly, digesting each part bit by bit in an attempt to find my center again and then sky-rocket my life further than I ever thought I could go! I promised Mama Schaefer before she died that I would. She knew I'd been struggling for the last few years with some really big life-questions and she often just let me talk some of them through with her. Sometimes a good sounding board is all I need, but not this time. Thankfully, I have been able to finally just "be still" and listen for signs, help, and answers from God and the Universe. The author of What is your What? came to speak at Wake Forest University, where I work, and we've had his books on our shelves for months. Self-help books are not normally what I read, but I kept going past this stack day after day and curiosity finally got the better of me. One day, when it was really quiet in the store, I picked up a copy and started thumbing through it. I was caught by the following passage, referring to the iconic figures of Cinderella and Luke Skywalker, probably because that seemed like a really weird pairing. Olsher says of them, "...they start out with their inherent greatness suppressed by difficult childhoods and buried by harsh circumstances...The central message of these stories has great resonance for all of us." (p.1) I wanted to know what my life could possibly have to do with fictional characters and I was highly skeptical that Mr. Olsher could connect them to me. I did, however, agree with his premise that a difficult childhood and harsh circumstances can, indeed, bury us--been there, done that, got the T-shirt! So, I bit the bullet and bought the book. As I pick apart each piece of the book, I chew on sections, such as listing three of my "loosing it" moments or being prompted to create a list of three life-altering moments. What makes me loose it? What events have happened to me over the years that have changed my life entirely? Images quickly come to mind and I've already written in the margins way more than the prerequisite groupings of three that he's asked for. When I got to the section on the disconnect of how the "world" sees you versus how you'd like for it to see you, I had to really think about the way I might come across to others. It's not easy to look through someone else's lens and turn that focus on yourself, so once I'd made my choices, I asked an Aunt of mine whom I knew would give me honest feedback, even if it was brutally honest. Our ensuing discussion was very healing. I'm currently stopped at the section where Mr. Olsher challenges us to look at our lives as a "series of scenes that adds up to an epic film." Looking at all the people--past, present, and future as characters in our story? Totally in my element! It makes me smile HUGE because that's one of the things that has driven and inspired the books I'm writing! I have to say, I love it when events in various parts of my life overlap and/or connect--makes me feel like I'm headed in the right direction and helps me feel more balanced and grounded! I'm hanging with you so far, Mr. Olsher! Don't lose me in self-help, guru obscurity! *Image from mycutegraphics.com.
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 My mind is such a random place, where obscure and relevant ideas bounce off the walls of my skull like words shouted or whispered that carry and rattle around from point to point. Some thoughts impact the sides so hard, they reverberate vibrations throughout my body, making my cells tingle. Typically, the noise is loudest when the world around me is at its most quiet, and often when I'm attempting to shut down for the evening so that I may sleep. That maddening event is one of the reasons I became compelled to write. I found that using a pen to surgically extract those thoughts was extremely helpful in gaining some peace and a semblance of control over them. If you read what I've written in the past through these free-writing exercises, however, little would make sense as I do not allow myself to edit what comes pouring out. I merely give my hand and the pen I'm holding over to the conduit of my brain and let the words flow freely out into existence For a long time, I found the randomness of my thoughts very frustrating and confusing. What did they mean? Why did they matter? How did they fit in with who I am? Why would I call up something or someone I hadn't wondered about for years at a time that seemed inopportune and/or irrelevant? . When I began taking Sociology classes, I discovered that not only could I find answers to the posed questions above, but also that mine was not the only brain chewing away on things in this manner. That is when my love affair with Sociology began, because it helps to know that I'm not alone and to realize that this way of thinking is not only common, but normal. Later, when I added philosophy classes into the mix, I was delighted to discover that far greater minds than mine have been asking themselves the same kinds of questions since mankind crawled out of caves and created ways to have more free-time in their lives that they could spend thinking, wondering, making sense of themselves and the world around them. I have learned to embrace the beauty in the random as I search for my own place in the world and ways to live a life full of meaning. *Image from knowledgeoftheday.org  Illuminate the Shadows of My Heart A whisper in the night caught by a gentle southern breeze... "I love you," Grazing across the wisteria laden treetops... "You heal me," Racing and fluttering against moonbeams... "Your scent," Tingling my senses to life... "Is intoxicating magic." A breath, two heartbeats in sync with an elemental clock, Set into motion centuries before the Earth began to spin on its axis... Eloquent words dance through the corners of my mind and bounce off of one another Creating sparks that illuminate the shadows of my heart. Precious moments stolen from the vestibules of ordinary days Imprint themselves like footsteps of light across my soul. Joy pours out of me like water from an ancient waterfall, Creating mist that glistens on everything it touches. I close my eyes and remember that you exist somewhere other than dreams. It is enough. by Amy Marie Schaefer 29 Aug. 2012 Dedicated in loving memory to Maya Angelou, whose words, light, and soul touched many lives. *Image from www.commons.wikimedia.org.  "Walk as if you are kissing the earth with your feet." --Anonymous
Connections, cycles, time and love...these thoughts blow around in my mind like dead leaves caught up in the embrace of a dry wind. Why do some connections take root, grow deep, settle in around the wandering path that is our life, while others flit away like dust bunnies scattered into the air from a breathy exhale? How does love thread them all together, sometimes knitted into colorful patterns, other times tangled like yarn that a kitten has been playing with until the jumble is such a mess you can no longer ascertain the beginning from the end? Some days the light shines down on all of these rampant, often elusive patterns of thought, while other days the skies are black with stormy clouds, thunder rumbling the ground, rattling the dust and making it dance, hop, and move. New growth sprouts in the cracks and crevices of the spaces that are unsettled and still barren...new growth that is untamed, the only direction it reaches for is up, as it simultaneously clings to the earth on tender roots.My shoes have long been abandonded, as they felt blasphemous, forcing a separation between my bare feet and the path I so desperately need to touch. I wonder at the final destination but only allow it a moment's thought, as I continue to travel, sometimes stopping to reflect, or take in the view...other times, I'm running full-out, sucking in great gulps of oxygen in an attempt to reach whatever I've spotted up ahead that's pulling me with an urgent, aching need. Long ago I stopped obsessing over the final destination--that was the day I fell rapturously in love with the road. I hold close the ghosts of those that have traveled with me but are gone now, tuck away the names of those who have made me stumble, and cling to the hands of those who continue to walk along side me as we travel around bends, sometimes in circles, always through cycles, to a destination unknown on a forever horizon.  "One person can make a difference, and everyone should try." --John F. Kennedy
Ya-ya's are sisters of the heart and most of mine are connected in some way to the military. Several of my ya-yas are spouses of active duty or retired military members, or they, themselves, wear/have worn the uniform. Tammy, a nurse and Lt. Colonel in the USAF is among that group. She is a tough bundle of energy with a beautiful smile, an infectious laugh, and a heart of gold. I first met her in Arizona when she and my husband were both stationed at Luke Air Force Base. Her whirlwind personality caught me up in its embrace and I am so thankful that it did. She is one of those pieces that fit into my life-puzzle perfectly! I asked her to share her thoughts on her military career and wept when I read her reply. I prompted--"Tammy, tell me the thoughts that come to mind FIRST when you think about your career---the images you can call up without having to think about it and the ones that will stick with you well after you retire." Her response: The honor and privilege to be the 1% that chose to serve, chose to represent, chose to continue to defend the rights of others without judgement or prejudice. The tears that well up with a flag-draped casket or the National Anthem or military wedding, or homecoming always invoke the deepest emotion of gratitude for those intangibles and non-material experiences that few will ever appreciate. I can't express the brotherhood/sisterhood between branches and countries sharing a mission--it is inexplicable how race, religion, culture, gender, and sexual preference are irrelevant, and the simplicity and beauty of a unified front is so powerful! It isn't about women or men, it's about purpose and integrity and service--all for the greater good, despite the cost. Biggest thing: NO REGRETS! Tammy, you are a gift in my life, the lives of everyone else that you touch, and to our Nation. Thank you for your service! *Image from pinterest.com.  "Be convinced that to be happy means to be free and that to be free means to be brave. Therefore do not take lightly the perils of war." --Thucydides
My husband, our girls and I were flying home from the UK in the summer of 1994, where we were stationed at RAF Lakenheath, to visit family in North Carolina. The aircraft we flew on for our trip across the Pond was not a commercial flight, but a cargo plane and it was full of Marines returning stateside from an assignment. Except for the flight crew, we were the only Air Force members on the flight. I smiled while we were waiting in line to board the plane because most of the Marines came over to flirt with my girls (who were one and two, at the time). It delighted me at how tender they were with my babies. Once we boarded, the Marines all found seats and saved one for me and the girls right in the middle of them, while forcing my husband to sit in the back. It was a quiet and slick maneuver that still makes me grin. What happened next was pure magic. After take-off, those Marines passed my little girls around, holding them, talking to them, playing with them, feeding them God knows how many cookies, and making them laugh! Both girls fell asleep and napped in the arms of a doting Marine. When we stopped to refuel in Goose Bay Canada, the Marines made off with my girls and my husband finally got to speak to me. "Guess I won't be getting you ladies back till we land in Virginia!" he said, shaking his head. "Well, I'm not going to argue with them! Are you?" I asked. He shook his head. "Not in this lifetime! They outnumber me eighty to one," he smiled! When we landed in Virginia, where my husband's parents were waiting to meet us and drive us down to North Carolina, the Marines took their time saying goodbye to my girls. Mama Schaefer approached, hugging me tight and taking my oldest daughter from me. "Who were those boys?" she wanted to know. "Suitors for your granddaughters," I told her, laughing. My youngest clung to my neck and quietly watched them go. I wondered if she was thinking what I was thinking--Who knew warriors could be such gentle souls? On the start of this Memorial Day weekend, I wonder what happened to those boys on the plane. I hope they returned from every mission safely and I want to say a special thanks for watching over my babies, not just on that day, but every day! Semper Fi! *Image from artnectar.com.  Taken 24 Sept. 2006 During the day, the hustle and bustle of life keeps my mind occupied, but at night, in the dark when the world is quiet, that's where the loneliness threatens to consume me.--A. Schaefer
With Memorial Day fast approaching, I've been thinking a lot about the cost of Freedom. The first image that comes to mind when I contemplate said price is a flag-draped coffin, TAPS playing in the background. But there are other sacrifices we give in order to protect and preserve our way of life, ones that aren't as obvious. Below is an exchange between my husband and I as he came to the end of one of many deployments he went on during his 24 year Air Force Career. He was at Al Udeid Air Base in Qatar and we were both anxious for it to be over. This post is dedicated to all who know the sting of deployments and the joy of a loved one's safe return. Al Udeid Air Base, Qatar September 19, 2006 Hello Angel, Well another day down, and one day closer to getting home. In talking about that I have some Good/Bad News, I should be arriving on the 30th. I will say this is the first time that I have been packed and waiting to be told to get on the plane. I have almost everything ready to go. I think they could say there is your plane you need to be on it in an hour and I know that I could make that. As it gets closer I will firm that up. But that is what we are being told as of now. I think that there are many reasons, for different people, for this being the hardest TDY. But I think one of the reasons is that people are getting tired of doing this, and it is starting to wear on people. I mean they do not pay me enough (but then again I do not think that there is enough money) to do this part of the job. I am glad to hear that this Sub job is going better than that last one. I know that it must be hard to just sub and not have your own class. But I also know that you are good enough to walk into any class and be able to teach. Now for the photos. I love seeing you and the girls, and I cannot wait to see the others. Counting the time until I can talk to you. Waiting to hear your sexy voice. Love you Brad Al Udeid Air Base, Qatar 22 September 2006 Hello Angel, I know that it is getting hard on you, not to say that it has not been hard this whole trip. I know that you are at the end of your rope and all I can do is ask you to try and hold on a little longer. I was talking with SSgt R. today and he was asking if you would know any information about when we were getting back. I told him that you and Beth could talk to MSGT S’s wife and maybe Lori and be able to see what is going on at that end. I know that you have done the return home part and Beth has never done it. I also know that you are hanging out at home and it may help if you talk with her. But then again I have no idea what all you are going through, it is just my two cents worth. OK as of right now what I know is, I will be landing at 1840 Local (6:40pm) on the 28th of September. I am hearing that you will pick us up at the Community Center. You will have to check with the people there to find out for sure. I know that you and I both know that there is nothing that I can do from here. But I want you to know that I wish that I could make things easier for you. Well Angel I miss you tons Love you Brad Al Udeid Air Base, Qatar 23 September 2006 Hello Angel, Well sweetie we are getting close to this being over. There is an update to the flight home, the new ETA is 28 Sep 7:40 pm, we just slipped one hour later. I really miss your spaghetti, they make some here that is not bad but it is not yours. Thank you for the photos, I love them all. By the way I will help you find your patience and damn you look sexy. How did Sarah’s dance go? I hope everything went good for her. What is going on with her Boyfriend thing? I was thinking the other day that I would like to be more imaginative with some things. What I am getting at is you always have great endings to your letters and I think that I am just blah. SSgt. R. was just saying that Beth may call you and we were talking about how you ladies would find out what was going on there and when to pick us up. If you cannot tell I am jumping all around. But then again I do have sixteen thousand things going on to try to get out of here and it is just running over in my email. Looking forward to talking to you in the morning. Love you. Warm kisses from the Desert Brad Sent to TSgt Brad Schaefer from Goldsboro, NC 23 September 2006: Hello, lovey. Your e-mail made me smile. Imagination is always a good thing, in MANY ways applied to MANY different things (including how you close your e-mail, which I liked very much...but aren't kisses from the desert SMOKIN' H-O-T???). I'm glad you think I'm sexy. It's amazing that you do after all these years. It's not like you don't know where every single freckle is, for Pete's sake. Still, it makes me smiles. Sarah and her little buddy, Z-, haven't figured out the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing. Right now they're just flirting back and forth with the idea that they like each other. I think the little girl in the middle, M-, who also likes Z- and is very VOCAL about it is making the situation for them awkward and uncomfortable. M- does the whole "jealous of Sarah" thing, and Z- backs off. Sarah told me to stay out of it (AGAIN) and that's what I'm doing. I just let her talk to me about what's going on and MOST of the time keep my thoughts about it to my damn self. I'm glad she feels like she can talk openly with me and I want that to continue. Besides, I totally believe she can handle herself. I made waffles for brunch and the girls and I sat around the bar talking about all kinds of stuff. I tell you, Brad, it's times like that that get me through the other crap. Without them, I'd be completely lost. They've grown into such intelligent, sweet, warm young ladies and I'm extremely proud of them. They are the delight in the madness of our life. Today, they're doing their chores (reluctantly, grudgingly, but they're doing them). I'm not as sad today as I have been the last couple of days. Sometimes all of it just gets to me, ya know. It's not always easy to keep the whole thing in perspective when the loneliness is choking me. I don't think you can help me with my lack of patience but I know you can certainly help me with the rest of it. I guess it just depends on how much you really want to know about what's going on, the DETAILS of what's going on in my head on any given day. I definitely have a problem with thinking/over-analyzing things too much! That's always been a problem for me, though. I have been that way for as long as I can remember. And I'm never sure if you want to know, or even digest half the things I share with you, when I do share them. I know it's a lot to take in. It's a lot for ME to take in. Anyway, I'm rambling now and I'm going to stop it. I'll talk to you later tonight and sometime this afternoon, I'll take some more pictures and get them in an e-mail for you. Since I'm getting ready to do housework right now, I'm SOOOOOOo not going to take pictures of me lookin' all hagged out ready to scrub toilets. NOT attractive. Sending you many kisses and tight sweet hugs. I love you. Always! Amy M. Schaefer Al Udeid Air Base, Qatar His Reply on 24 September 2006: Hello Angel, Well I am glad that I can make you smile from here. Anyway you need to smile every day. And yes I know where all your freckles are and love every inch of your body. You know that no matter what you are doing you are sexy even doing yard work or scrubbing toilets. I have two requests for the 28th. One, can you bring me a couple of Smirnoff when you pick me up, and second can you wear a thong. So that way I can think dirty thoughts all the way home. Now, I am sure that I cannot fix anything, but I am always willing to hear anything and everything that you want to talk about. I will always do my best to listen as a friend and try not to in put anything but an open hand or an ear to hear what is going on. In saying that I am sure that there are going to be some things that I am not going to understand right off the bat. I do understand about things being overwhelming sometimes. But I also remembering talking to you when I was in Korea and you were at your Dad's just taking time to smell the flowers and I think that you still need to do that, I think that will help with your patience. Now for my pennies worth on your thinking/over-analyzing things that is one of the things that is special about you. What I mean is there are many things that make up who and what (position on life) you are. There are parts of you that I do not always agree with, just as there are parts of me that you do not, but that is what we are and the people that we are. Those are some of the beautiful things about you that I love. And yes there are other things that do not fit into this topic. One last thing about your sexiness. Honey I have seen you at your best and worst. I have seen you after getting ready to go out somewhere special and even after having two children. I believe at the bottom of my being that you are just as beautiful having children as going to the Air Force Prom. You radiate beauty no matter what you are doing. And yes that is true first thing in the morning. :) OK I am going to run for now. Call the Fire Department after the kisses that I am sending to you. Love you Brad "Bravery never goes out of fashion." --William Makepeace Thackeray  "Still falls the rain--dark as the world of man, black as our loss--blind as the nineteen hundred and forty nails upon the cross." --Edith Sitwell
Once you know a thing, it is impossible to unknow it. Stepping into a combat zone is something many of us will hopefully never have to do, but for the few who have done so, their world never goes back together in quite the same way. How does one process and make sense of an innocuous life after seeing things, doing things that most will only ever see in nightmares, or on some obscure video game, or nightly news story happening "out there"? There is no going back to the place of unknowing, there is only finding ways to keep the horrors at bay, the demons in check, so that they don't eat holes like Swiss cheese into your soul. But the stains...the stains remain. Most of the men and women I've met who've been in live combat situations don't like to talk about it, as if speaking of it will release some demonic fog from their lips and surround them, forcing the poison of the memories to come alive and devour them. A Marine friend of mine confessed to me, "If I talk about it, I get trapped in the memory and it becomes this living thing I don't know how to fight. I'm afraid I won't be able to keep a grip on my own sanity." An Army friend of mine, who lost his legs when he stepped on an IED, told me that he goes into the virtual world of Second Life with his wife because in there he can dance with her and feel whole again. It is our eternal shame to not care for these wounded warriors who have given so much for us and we should hold accountable those who mismanage their care (i.e. the recent scandal about the Veteran's Hospitals around the country) and then hide behind excuses! All who have worn a military uniform to protect ideals that form the foundations of our Nation have sacrificed pieces of themselves to do so, and some paid the ultimate price. I am grateful for the blanket of freedom I sleep under every night that is stained with the blood of those who've protected that freedom. I thank you for your service and remember you in my prayers every night. *Image from beapamplona.girlshopes.com.  "Never respond to rudeness. When people are rude to you, they reveal who they are, not who you are. Don't take it personally. Be silent."--TruthFollower.com
Many of the Facebook pages I read of my former students contain posts about their on-going problems with peers at school. Specifically, they discuss being bullied, teased for a myriad of reasons, and/or generally being mistreated by their peers. A lot has changed since I was a student in a K-12 school, but that kind of behavior remains the same. If you've been keeping pace with my blogs, you'll know why the song "Pretty Woman" still makes me grind my teeth! I'd like to be able to reassure my students going through this that those who behave that way towards them will outgrow it, but the truth is, mean people, rude people, unkind people are an on-going fact of life and cliquish behavior has no age limits. What I can say to offer comfort is that once you become comfortable in your own skin, people like that will no longer have any power over you. My hope for anyone who has had the misfortune of being treated this way is that he or she won't change who they are or conform in order to fit into those 'elite cliques'. The measure and worth of who we are is not gauged by whether or not we belong to the "Mean Girl's Group", but in how kindly we treat others, as well as ourselves. Usually people who are mean behave that way because they are insecure and afraid, although there are those who would hold themselves as "better than" or "above" others. Aunt Mattie used to say, "We are all just people--with hopes and dreams and fears and flaws, no matter where we live, how much money we have, or who we hang around." Real beauty shines in the way we shower the world and those around us with love. Doing the loving thing knows no boundaries, age limitations, or financial constraints. The rewards it yields are priceless.  "In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you." --Buddha
In the chill of a gloriously sunny May morning, the crowd of hundreds hustled around to find seats, settle small children, and prepare themselves for the long-awaited ceremony. The graduates scrambled for last minute tassel arrangements, hugs and a few tears as they lined up for the procession. I stood on the fringes, watching it unfold, the taste of their excitement on my tongue and the electricity tingling in my veins. So many lives in front of me that were about to change, and so many memories flashing through my own mind about the various times in my life that marked moments of monumental change. The speaker for commencement, Jill Abramsons, was the former Editor for the New York Times and this was the first time she would speak publicly after being fired from that job a scant few days ago. There was a lot of speculation about what she would say when the news broke that she'd lost her job. With quiet dignity and a smile, she stood at the podium and addressed the audience. Ms. Abramsons' theme for her brief eleven minute speech was resilience. She gracefully shifted the attention off of herself and placed it onto the graduates and all of the wonderful opportunities that lay ahead for them. She spoke of her father, saying that he was the kind of man who was more interested in how one deals with the setbacks in life rather than the successes! She also offered that while the road ahead of them would involve the "sting of losing something" or "not getting something you were hoping for", the true measure of who you are would be in the way you showed the world what you are made of. One example she gave was of a Chinese friend and colleague of hers who fought to bring the news to his people against very difficult scrutiny and censorship from his government. When he was "detained" for months for doing a job he loved and valued, he did not allow that setback to dissuade him from his path. Instead, he said, "I did what I believe, and that's what makes me fearless!" She finished her speech to the crowd's thunderous applause. I dried my tears, went back to work, and reminded myself that when it comes to what I want, what I believe, I ought to always be fearless. I hope the graduates won't forget and I know for a fact it is a message I intend to remember! *Note: To hear the full speech from Jill Abramsons at the Wake Forest 2014 Commencement Ceremony go to: http://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=wake+forest+commencement+speech+2014&qpvt=Wake+Forest+Commencement+speech+2014&FORM=VDRE#view=detail&mid=CE0AD2E977FEBAF0C500CE0AD2E977FEBAF0C500 *Image from cornishartgallery.com. |
About The Author
I grew up in rural North Carolina. When I was only nineteen, I moved away and became a military wife. My only aspiration at that tender time in my life was to create an adult life that "fixed" all of the "injustices" of my childhood. Secretly, however, I wanted to reach for the sky! I wanted to be a writer and find ways to "save the world" (my mother used to say, "You have Save the World Syndrome".). Mostly, I wanted to matter. Archives
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