Amy M. Schaefer
  • Amy M. Schaefer, Writer
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From the Front Porch

I am an "accidental blogger". When I launched my writing career in March of 2014, one of the things that I decided to include was my journaling, which I have always found to be a comforting and therapeutic endeavor.  It was a big risk to open myself up in such a public forum, but it has taught me that, for the most part, we share far more experiences than we think. It's comforting to know I'm not alone!  (*the "Button Text" is the link to my first novel)
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Brace Yourself, We're Going on an Adventure!

7/31/2015

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31 July 2015
"Exist on your own terms. That is all." ~Dau Voire

Hello last day of July 2015. Time for a check-in to assess how this year is shaping up in an attempt to stay focused. I named this year "Go in the Direction of Your Dreams" and honestly I had no idea which direction that would be. Let's just say it hasn't exactly gone as planned but the plan was sketchy to begin with so that's okay! If I had to plot the path I've taken so far, it would look hilarious, bouncing around hither and yon. The neat thing about this discovery, though, is that's just the way I naturally roll. I don't know how that crazy route works for me but it totally does. Frankly I'm really starting to dig it! I've also scattered a whole mess of debris on the road behind me (...I apologize in advance for the litter I will NOT be picking up).

August is going to come with some pretty big changes...I'll turn forty-six, my first grandchild is due, I'm taking a trip up North to see my sister's baby get married, my other sister and brother are coming for a visit, and our "camping" adventures will begin in earnest at a beautiful lake in the Great Smoky Mountains. Honestly, I can't wait!

I intend to spend every day of being forty-six with joy and light in my heart. It is a trend I plan to continue with reckless abandon over into any birthday I'm fortunate enough to have after that. I know there will be hurts and scrapes, bumps and bruises along the way, so I've stocked my first aid kit and bought a case of Gorilla Glue for when I have to put back pieces of me that might break off (...because it's ME and I know with certainty this will happen). When I look back at everything I've survived so far, I know I can face whatever difficulties might be up ahead (...and for the record, NO, Universe, that is not a challenge I'm issuing. Thanks!). Ready for some adventure? Let's GO!

May your weekend be full of "light" and cookies (...or whatever guilty pleasure you adore)!

Always,
A.
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What's In Your Closet?

7/30/2015

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Image from mrm4gic.deviantart.com
Five days to go until it's time for me to leave anything and everything behind that does not add something positive to my life. I've been mentally cataloging everything for days now, deciding what absolutely has to go...relationships that cause me pain, friendships that are a lie, old hurts, grudges, or jealousies, etc., all of that shit takes up way too much space. It is inevitable while cleaning debris off my own path, my mind drifts back to my mother. What would she purge if she knew she had only ten months left to live? Would she treat people differently? How would that knowledge have changed her?

I'm sad to say I say I didn't know her well enough to accurately predict those answers. What I do know is despite the fact she was lonely and unhappy, she spent a lot of time with my girls and it filled her with joy. It showed clearly on her face. She was patient with them and very tender. Her love was evident as I watched the way she played with and spoke to them. I'm so grateful they could give her that before her time was up. It also helps me to better clarify my "list".

If tomorrow was your last day, what would matter right now? We can't live every facet of our days this way because "ordinary" things still must get done. We can, however, apply this philosophy to many aspects of our lives. Fifty, sixty, seventy hour work weeks, harsh words that put a wedge between us and someone we love, trivial "wrongs" we feel have been done to us...the list of irrelevant things is almost as long as the one filled with wondrous details that remind us we're alive and that life is finite, precious. I want to live each day with conscious intent rather than merely being dragged along in a tide of arbitrary waves. I want my words, my days, my relationships to matter. And every day I want to be fully present and invested. Pull the weeds, cull the clutter and debris and fill each hole you create with tiny little loving gems. I want my body to contain a treasure chest full of lovely things instead of a dusty old closet full of dirt and trash. And I've learned that even some pains can be beautiful when they inspire us towards something wonderful. I'm closer now than I have ever been to having a truly authentic life, free of everything that has held me down or held me back from being completely who I am and it feels fantastic! I'm also getting to know the real me, including all of those parts I'd hidden away out of fear, for the first time. It's interesting coming face to face with ALL of me...kind of like running into an old friend you haven't seen in a long time but missed terribly. I can almost hear her saying, "There you are. What took you so long to catch up?"
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Sweat, Sunshine & Deep Thoughts

7/29/2015

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NASA image of a Solar Flare @ theregister.co.uk
It's interesting how hard work, fresh air, and sweat have a way of really clearing my mind. These days that my husband has been away I've spent working my butt off in our yard. Somehow the Carolina heat and the earth have dislodged a ton of brain clutter, the buckets of sweat washing it away. I'm sore all over, like I've been through some epic ordeal...which makes me laugh as it feels strange to associate such a mundane task with the word "epic", but I remember having a conversation with Mama Schaefer many years ago and she told me that her flower garden was the place where she got right with her mind. As I was pulling some seriously stubborn weeds, I was also de-weeding my thoughts, making room to plant all kinds of new stuff.

Late tonight my honey will return from his trip and he'll come home to a woman who is finally, truly his partner in the yard work adventure. There isn't a single speck of our yard I haven't had my hands on these last few days. While I've washed away all of the physical dirt, the green and earth, leaves and bugs have left a residual mark of pure "life" on my skin. Our sun has left star kisses on my cheeks. And now, more than ever, I understand what it means to be, to feel like an Earth Child. I like it, a LOT!
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Bedtime Blues

7/28/2015

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I'm not good at sleeping by myself. I frequently have nightmares, wrestle with bouts of major insomnia, and generally feel anxious when I'm trying to fall asleep alone. Part of the problem is childhood traumas that still haunt me, make me fearful of going to sleep and being utterly vulnerable. If I'm forced to sleep alone, I have to make a nest of pillows around me so that I get some semblance of my "back" being protected. When my husband is in bed with me, I have to have his back against me in order to relax enough to fall asleep. It's pretty silly, really, to carry such a thing around for so long but I know it will be one of the most difficult things to purge from year forty-five. Those fears go very, very deep and unlike with other things I can't just psyche myself out because that would require too much focused concentration, ergo leading to those insomnia issues.

Back when my  husband would go on long deployments, I spent days, weeks, months extremely sleep-deprived. I knew I was the one solely responsible for keeping our girls safe while he was gone and I was by God not going to fail at that task. I would often worry something would happen in the middle of the night, they would need me, and I wouldn't wake up in time to be there...so, I stayed awake. I'd nap sometimes when they were at school, but at night I'd rarely sleep and almost never for an entire night. When they were toddlers, I'd check on them every couple of hours and sometimes just stand at their door watching them sleep, reminding myself they were safe.

How do you cure a fear that feels like it's encoded into your brain? How do you assure yourself that it's okay to just let go and trust that nothing bad will happen during the night while you are completely unaware? Those are questions I continue to grapple with. As for tonight, I will just exhaust myself until I'm too tired to notice as much that the bed, the room, the night feels empty. If that fails, C-Span is pretty good at chasing away the bedtime blues...and boring me into a coma!
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One Tired Girly

7/27/2015

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I've never had to take care of a yard by myself and after getting my first taste of doing all of the yard work on my own today, I kid you not when I say if my husband ever decides to ditch me for a younger woman, my lawn will be the size of a place mat (...or I will totally marry a gardener)! The things that are supposed to be growing in our yard are doing fairly well, but the weeds...holy guacamole! They are on steroids! Since my husband is away on business, I decided to tackle all of the work we didn't get to over the weekend so he wouldn't have to worry about it when he got home. I had no idea what I was in for!

As I enthusiastically got out our gardening equipment i.e. push mower, rake, wheel barrow, heavy gloves, big ol' clippers, I figured I'd "deforest" all the weeds out front and mow both the front and the back. I began my quest at 2 pm and by 4:30 even my dirt was dirty, I was soaked to the skin with sweat, had downed over a gallon of water, and while the front yard was mowed, I only managed the massive weed hostile take over of one, that's right just ONE flower bed up front (there are five total). I decided to call it a day before I had a heat stroke and put the tools away. I was just about to park the mower when I got a wild burst of energy and began to work on the back yard. About five lines of cut grass in, the mower died and honest to God I did NOT have the energy to crank that thing again. Even the thought of pulling the cord made me want to cry! I used what was left of my energy to push the mower into the garage, then slumped down in a chair on the back deck, defeated.

I have no skin on either of my heels (...how did I not notice that happening WHILE it was happening?), a gash on the side of my hand from a wayward dead tree limb that caught me as I pulled it out of an overgrown bush, the clothes I was wearing should be burned, and every single muscle in my body is sore (thank you GOD for Aleve)! I was completely unprepared for just how much time it takes to do stuff with growing stuff and make it look marginally "tame"! Who knew all that was so much WORK?! Tomorrow I'll do better, be more cognizant of what I can realistically accomplish by myself and try NOT to be disappointed if I don't get "finished" (although I'm beginning to realize that in truth gardening is never finished...ever!). I'll also be wearing flip flops. Besides a really great feeling of accomplishment, one of the best things about today is I'm so tired I should have zero trouble going to sleep! May all of your dreams be sweet ones and in them may your yards be WEED free!

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Pardon Me But I'll Be Taking That Back, Thanks

7/24/2015

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24 July 2015
It is so strange to me that the more I open up those scabby old wounds or even the fresh ones that still hurt to touch, the more of my power I reclaim. I have no idea how that works, only that I can vividly feel it happening and it's pretty damn amazing! For example, last night after discussing with my husband and daughter the "worst picture of my life", I sat out on the front steps of our house under a sky filled with stars completely floored at how lighthearted I felt! At one point I thought to myself, "why the hell didn't I do this before now?", but the truth is I wasn't ready. No matter how many times people tell us to just get over something, we don't do so until it is OUR time...and for some things that time never comes, we merely learn to live around whatever it "is" we cannot forget. Thankfully, though, most things we can and do overcome!

Today I feel more powerful than I have in my entire life. My mind has bounced around all morning to the faces of those I've given my power to over the years, those who've "taken" something from me or caused me intentional harm and like some wild, ancient warrior woman I have taken it back. Ever see those Highlander movies? It feels a bit like when the highlander kills another immortal and gets an immediate infusion of their magical powers. I know, that sounds absolutely silly, but by way of descriptions it's the best I've got. Over-dramatic descriptions notwithstanding, I am reclaiming power I've allowed others to mismanage. I am setting more concrete boundaries of what I will and won't allow. I am also reminding myself that just because I love someone, they don't get a blank check in my life. Not everyone we love is worthy of our heart, but we feel it, give it anyway, even if we know we must protect ourselves from those people and give them a very wide berth in our lives. That's the one that always trips me up. ALWAYS. And when I've allowed it, it never fails to end up costing me way more than I should have had to pay. Not anymore. If I let you in, try not to break anything (...and if you break something, I'd appreciate it if you'd fix it. Gorilla glue works great!). If I give you parts of me that are precious and you're careless with them, you can bet your ass I'll be taking them back! Love is not a free pass and our power is extremely important. I will be extremely mindful of whom I allow a dose of either in the future.

May your weekend be full of lighthearted joy!

Always,
A.
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Purging Bullies & Ugly Words

7/23/2015

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Me in 7th Grade, 1982
I sat at my desk trying not to cry as I quickly stuffed the school photo package into my notebook, hoping no one saw. Why did my grandmother have to purchase these? The thought that she would show them to people, cut out the wallet sized ones and send them to family made me want to throw up. I'd only glanced briefly at the 8 x 10 proudly displayed on top, but the image was burned into my brain along with my mother's horrible words only days prior. "You look disgusting," she said. "Wash your damn face once in awhile," she'd told me. Several of the bullies at school reminded me almost daily in my science class that I was "grotesque". Zit face was a favorite nickname they had for me and sometimes they'd sing the song "Pretty Woman", substituting the words "Ugly Amy." I wanted the floor to swallow me whole on those days.

Puberty is rarely fun for anyone and often it's one of the most vulnerable times in our lives. We're filled with self-doubt, searching for who we're going to be, all the while battling the vicious game Mother Nature is playing with our changing bodies. It was years before I could even bring myself to allow anyone to see the photo evidence of my battle with the puberty beast! And longer still for the sting of my mother's words to heal. The face in the photo above? That is the face I saw in the mirror for a long time. Anytime anyone would tell me I was beautiful, that image would pop into my brain along with all of the self-doubt I'd associated with it.

It wasn't that awkward time in my life that traumatized me, nor did the words spoken from those jackass bullies. I recovered from both fairly quickly. It was the careless words from my beautiful mother that haunted me, wounded me, and rattled my own self-image for a long time. My skin cleared up by the end of the next school year. Karma exacted her justice on those bullies who tormented me (...and it was sweet of her to allow me to see). As for my mother, she died never knowing how her ugly words had harmed me. I'm glad she didn't know and I forgive her.

I understand now more than ever that real beauty has nothing to do with what we see with our eyes. Real beauty comes from within, and I strive every day to be someone who is beautiful on the INSIDE (...which is what the tattoo on my wrist is all about). Today I share with the whole world a photo I wished for years had never been taken. I still think it's one of the worst photos ever taken of me, but I no longer care who sees it, nor am I ashamed of the girl it reflects. If I could go back and tell that 7th grade girl just ONE thing, I'd say, "Never, ever allow mean, cruel or unkind people to define who you are. Never allow anyone to do that but YOU." I still despise the song "Pretty Woman", but for those bullies who are grown now...here's my personal up yours....
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Me, 2015...
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Life: The Great & Terrible Beauty

7/22/2015

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Tattered Heart by Amanda Carrington
My youngest daughter, who is twenty-two, was quietly crying on our sofa as she read the last pages in the last book of the Divergent series by Veronica Roth. She came into the kitchen when she was done, her beautiful, freckled face wet with tears and I pulled her into my arms, hugging her tight. As we talked about the book, the series, and the love story we both wept. It struck me then...what would you do for a love like that, a love that saves the world, but leaves you feeling as if YOUR world has ended? Some people search their entire lives for a love that potent and die never having touched it. Others hold themselves back, keeping a distance from such things for fear of the pain and loss that is inevitable, which is greater than their desire to truly experience love full strength. And then...there are those rare, rare few who get to have that kind of love for a human lifetime.

It occurs to me that my child has gotten a real glimpse into the wonder, magic, and heartache that simply living a life fully invested will bring. It isn't an easy lesson for me to watch on her young face and even more difficult for her to learn, but it's important. She will experience the feelings of frustration, confusion, and sorrow the ending of the books brought to her many times over throughout the course of her life. She must learn how to allow those things to shape the woman she becomes. Do they crush her spirit or inspire her to something great? All of that remains to be seen, but I'm rooting for her every step of the way!

What a beautiful skill set to be able to create something so powerful and accurate merely by the proper selection of words strung together! And what a deep reminder of just how precious a love that is true can be. If we always remembered how finite this life is and how abruptly things can end, we'd treat it more like the treasure it is and go to extraordinary means to protect it.
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Climbing the Clutter Mountain

7/21/2015

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The last few days I've been on a de-cluttering mission, not just of tangible items (...how many back issues of Southern Living and Our State can one woman save?), but of emotional things as well. It is amazing how much we drag along with us from one day to the next, or in my case year after year! I am set on not bringing anything into forty-six that doesn't add something positive to my journey. Let's face it, no matter what you do, life is difficult enough on its own. Negative, tough, bad, sad, challenging things are going to happen to all of us. Unfortunately, I frequently allow all that junk to pile up until I feel buried alive, which only serves to squish me at the bottom! No more!

So, here I sit, glass of sweet tea nearby to help bolster my resolve, while I "Reduce, Reuse, Recycle" bits and pieces of my life and I've gotta confess...it feels really good! I'm wondering why on earth I waited so long to do this until I remember my penchant for gnawing on that bone (...and no, I am not tearing out various pages before putting the magazines into the recycle bag..blink, blink). It's a family curse sewn into my DNA underwear and man does it itch and chafe when it rubs against me! It's not like I can just shed parts of my genetics that I find annoying, like I would articles of clothing when they get too hot (...although wouldn't it be C-O-O-L if we could?). For those of you Zen folks who are already good at living a clutter free existence, you're my hero! As for me, I'll just keep trudging up this mostly self-created mountain of mine, taking bits and pieces off and tossing them aside when they get in the way. Okay, maybe I'll save one or two of the little bits (...like a necklace, random photo or a recipe), but the bulk is so gone! That's progress, right?
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Summertime & the Living is Easy

7/20/2015

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Leslie Jean, 1975

Wherever you are, I hope your Monday was memorable. The song below was the last song I ever heard my mother sing. I'd give almost anything to have a recording of it, but this one will have to do. It's a version almost as beautiful as my mothers. I'm posting this today because it absolutely suits the soundtrack of my life

Love,
A.

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    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.

    Since then, I have learned to reach well beyond what I ever dared to think was possible. I've learned not to allow fear to stop me from whatever future I want to create!

    What keeps me grounded? My Tribe! What provides the wind beneath my wings? A well of reserves filled with unstoppable passion!

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  • Amy M. Schaefer, Writer
  • Blog: From the Front Porch
  • Novels
  • Short Stories
    • Children's Books
  • About the Author
  • Contact
  • Photo & Art Gallery