You know how they say it’s never a good idea to hold things too tightly?
It’s probably good advice.
This blog “experienced technical difficulties” last week (That’s how WordPress said it), and I’m grateful for my hosting company that helped me address the challenge, but for a while I just wondered….
And remembered again that—
♣ Without prior notice, or warning, things can happen that can affect us significantly, maybe, even change the trajectory of our lives.
♣ Life is transient, and nothing in these spheres is permanent.
♣We need a truly stable and sure foundation to build on, because when the day comes for our work to be tested, only what is permanent would count.
♣ Jesus is that one, true foundation; the only Rock upon which we can build worthwhile work that would last, and count on the day when it truly matters.
I also remembered that—
♣ As writers who share content online, building and email list is necessary.
♣ It’s important to back up your site regularly. This plugin comes highly recommended (I think….)
After the situation was resolved, I found out my most recent post was gone, so I’m sharing it here again.
It’s a story about me, Snow White, and THAT apple (that didn’t happen….)
Me, Snow White, and THAT apple
Monday, April 14, 2014.
WHY DON’T YOU EVER TEXT ME IN NORMAL ENGLISH?
The alarm didn’t wake me this morning. My mum’s text did.
I had only a few seconds to decide how I wanted the day to go — it wasn’t supposed to be that hard — I had only two choices… mainly —
Reply immediately, and spend the whole day explaining my response.
Pretend I didn’t see the text (Plus the flood of messages that would soon fill my inbox to overflowing. And the persistent calling), and then spend the whole week explaining what happened.
This life —
I wasn’t even fully awake yet, but I was already thrown in the full grind of things. Again.
I just want to breathe.
Sometimes I just want to scream “Press pause! This girl needs a do over, a new start, or maybe, she simply just needs to catch her breath. Who’s in charge here?”
Two hours later, I was stuck in traffic so gridlocked, it caused severe anxiety and a slight headache.
I’d overslept a mere thirty minutes, and now Carla would be breathing fire and brimstone when I get to the office. I could hear her reprimand. It was always the same, never changing —
“There are alternate routes you could take, Ruth. You should try things differently sometimes. It wouldn’t kill you”.
I’d take her huffing and puffing over the smoke and dust, and dirt of the alternate routes she keeps referring to, any day.
And when I say smoke, I mean the kind that forms a thick cloud you have to find your way through.
When I say dust, I mean the kind you nearly choke on.
When I say dirt, I mean the tangible, visible evidence of the wickedness of the human heart — lives and destinies seriously affected by the vainness of those entrusted with the responsibility to oversee the fair distribution of resources and the well being of people in a place.
Some people call the game politics.
I call it a shade of dirt and vanity.
I’d take the reprimand over the sight of a mum and three little children begging for food when the sun has just barely risen.
I’d take that huffing and puffing over the sight of a boy trying to deceive, cheat, and steal from total strangers….
Somehow though, the reprimand never does play out in reality as I envision it in my mind.
Today, as soon as I clocked in, Carla called me to her office, ordered me to check my email, and reiterated the deadline.
I thought of quitting when I saw the assignment.
I’d been begging her for months to let me work on something that’s actually worthwhile. At the close of work on Friday, she’d said we could try something. Today, I found out I’d be writing a new column, beginning this week — a column highlighting lessons we could learn from fairy tales. And she’d suggested we begin with Snow White.
I could have told her what I was really thinking (And they weren’t very civil thoughts), and then marched myself out of her office with no savings, or a plan. But at least, I’d still have what’s left of my dignity.
Again, I didn’t have very long to make a choice.
A picture of my mum flashed in my mind in that very instant, so I bit my tongue, and took that soul-wrenching, hope-diffusing, heart-crushing walk to my cubicle.
One day, I’d wake up and be in control. I’d do work that’s actually worthwhile, writing about what makes sense, impacts lives, and actually makes a difference.
Today, I would write on Snow White, the apple, the mirror, and the perspectives that come from looking in hustling and patronizing mirrors (Even though they call it magic).
And I would try to be patient as I spend another day explaining my response to my mum’s text — It’s norml Eng bt wth abrvtd wrds.
After forty five minutes, Carla stopped by, to see how things were going.
I only had a blank page with two words — after four revisions.
I think it’s the perfect title —
Carla was sympathetic… somewhat, “You’re doing great”, she said with this weird look that wasn’t very telling.
Do I need to start looking for another job?
As soon as she left, I called my mum to explain my dilemma.
“It’s Snow White”, she said, “Everybody loves Snow White”.
“Right”, I said, feeling somewhat relieved,
“Maybe I should just give it a twist and focus on the apple instead?”
“Yes. Maybe even explore the angle of eating fruits? You know, like an apple a day keeps the doctor away?”
“You do know she died after eating the apple, right?”
“She was dead until Grumpy and his brothers—“
I don’t believe this! I do not believe my mother! Are you serious right now, ma?!”
So I’d be thinking of other ways to get this article written before Thursday.
But till then, I’d be in my cubicle sulking, and blaming my mother for writers’ block.