by Heather Plett | Jan 18, 2010 | Uncategorized
Today, after 5 days away from my computer, I came back to an in-box packed full of inquiries about Haiti. Many wanted to know if we will be doing any food programming there (the answer is yes – feel free to support), but most wanted to know if M & J are safe.
This past summer, two of my staff resigned from their positions, and for completely different reasons, both moved to Haiti. J is working in a fairly remote area, providing administrative support for a clinic. M is doing contract work with NGOs in Port-au-Prince.
J reports that, though they felt the quake, they were not significantly impacted. They will, however, be providing some medical support from their clinic, so she will be working hard in the coming weeks.
I haven’t heard anything directly from M, but through the NGO grapevine, I’ve heard that she is safe and that her home was not destroyed.
Though I’ve never been to Haiti, I feel quite connected to it through many friends and colleagues who have lived there or are currently living there. This disaster seems so unfathomable that there really are no words to express it.
That’s about all I have to say right now, because at this time, this is one of the only things on my mind.
by Heather Plett | Jan 2, 2010 | Uncategorized
Okay, here’s the thing – I really need to write a book. Well, more to the point – I need to write ANOTHER book. I’ve been down this road before.
I’ve carried this dream with me for almost as long as I’ve been able to string together words. After my first publishing success in high school (a poem in the high school yearbook), I had a taste of what it’s like to see my words in print and I’ve been a little like a drug addict, craving it ever since.
I’ve seen my words in print fairly regularly since then. I’ve had probably about 20 things published in various publications (poems, articles, essays), and hundreds more in publications related to the various places I’ve worked. I’ve even seen my words on stage, with three of my plays produced on either a University or Fringe Festival stage.
But the book is the golden prize that still alludes me. I want it. Badly.
My first book was a novel I wrote when I was on maternity leave with Julie, my second child. It was called “In My Mother’s Words” and was about a young woman who returns to her childhood home to clean it out after her mom dies and she discovers some surprises about herself when she finds her mom’s journals. I know it sounds rather incredible (it still freaks me out a bit), but with a new baby and a toddler just 16 months older, I managed to write a 300 page book in less than 6 months. For about 2 hours every afternoon, they both took a nap, and I wrote like a mad woman.
I came close to getting that book published. I sent out close to 20 proposals and had about 4 or 5 requests to see the full manuscript. One publishing company said they were pretty sure they’d publish it but they just had to get their board to put the final rubber stamp on it. Sadly though, that never happened.
I still think the book was good, even though I know there are some flaws that need some fairly serious re-writes, but with a few too many rejections under my belt, and real life (diapers, a career, etc.) getting in the way, I put that book up on a shelf and left it there.
It was when I was in the hospital for three weeks waiting for our third child (Matthew, our stillborn son) to be born that I began to dream of writing a different kind of book – a memoir. The problem is, since then, I’ve been cursed with the debilitating disease of “too many ideas”.
First there was the “Journey of a Woman” idea that came to me in the hospital.(See how that word keeps popping up?) That was a general memoir that would focus primarily on some of the tough spots I’d been through in my life – rape, a stillborn son, etc.
Then there was “The Mango Principles”, a book about leadership and community building that had at its core the story of an amazing mango a friend gave me when I was in the hospital. I sent that proposal out a few times but never even got a single response. Since then, I’ve had too many rocky points in my leadership career to truly believe I have a right to give out leadership advice, so I didn’t pursue it too much further. (I might revisit it though, because I still think it has potential)
More recently, there was “Fumbling for Faith”, a memoir about how my stumbling faith has changed over the years and how it has changed me. I sent out a proposal for that one too, but again – no response. I lost interest in that one too because I’m really not sure I have a solid enough faith or any real expertise to write about it.
There have been other ideas – like “Matthew’s story” about how my stillborn son continues to impact me nine years after he died. And another honest leadership book about how hard it is to be an effective leader when you’re surrounded by flawed human beings (a bit of an antidote to all of the leadership books out there that just make you feel like you’re failing because you can’t attain their standards that are based on hypothetical teams and not real, human, flawed teams). And something about the connection between beauty and justice – an idea that I keep wanting to explore after a couple of amazing experiences in India and Africa.
And now… well, now I have another idea cooking in my brain that’s about art and life and personal growth and how shadows play an important role in deepening the beauty of all of them. It kind of brings together some of the ideas from the past.
But the fact of the matter is, I feel a little deflated right now because even though I think it’s a good idea, it sort of feels like “just another idea” that will eventually land on that pile of unattained dreams. And all of those little gremlins – fear, self-doubt, not enough time, not a good enough writer – they’re all getting me down in one way or another these days. (Not enought time/energy is a big one right now, since my career has been draining so much from me lately.)
Why am I telling you all of this? Well, I kind of feel like I need to figure out how to get this thing done (or finally give it up for good), and this blog has been an important place for me to process stuff in my life in the last 5 years. Maybe if I share it, it will have a better chance of being realized. Maybe if I’m honest about it, I’ll feel like I need to be accountable to this dream and put some serious energy into it.
So here I am, telling you my biggest dream, hoping that you will hold it gently in your hands.
No, I’m not going to make a New Year’s resolution or big goal about this, since this is the year I’m determined to enjoy the “journey”. But… here’s the thing… a few years ago, I started a file on my computer called “The Journey toward the Book” and I filled it with little snippets of stories and ideas that I thought might eventually find their way into a book. So – when the word “journey” came to me on that plane ride and became my word for the year, I couldn’t help but think a book might be part of that journey.
by Heather Plett | Dec 29, 2009 | Uncategorized
Every year there is the pajama picture…
Followed by some variation on the theme… like maybe the Christmas tree? (minus the youngest member who’d run out of patience by this point)
And since they’ve been old enough, there’s almost always been the pyramid…
Which generally tends to degenerate into the body pileup…
This year there was also the group hug for Grandma…
And a little gratuitous cuddle time now and then…
And, of course, at some point in the evening, there is a little dinner time silliness…
They see each other only a few times a year (as a group) and yet they seem to be rather fond of each other. I’m rather fond of them all too.
by Heather Plett | Dec 17, 2009 | Uncategorized
1. If you’re interested in the continued adventures of Flat Madeline, check out Maddie’s blog. I think the 3D Madeline is getting jealous of all of her grand adventures. I know I am.
2. I was interviewed by Connie over at Dirty Footprints Studio. I really enjoyed doing the interview because it helped me work through some of the things I’ve been wrestling with lately. If you want to know more about my work and why I’ve renewed my passion for it, check it out. Connie and I have been down similar paths lately, and it always seems that in the midst of my deepest wrestling, I get the most delightful emails from her.
3. I took a sick day yesterday. I was fighting a cold the whole week I was traveling, and though I didn’t feel too bad then, I think it caught up with me yesterday. Mostly, I just needed a day of rest.
4. Last night was the last “winter concert” with all three of the girls at the same school. Nikki and Julie thought they were done with concerts (normally they only do them up to grade 6), but this year the grade 7 & 8 bands participated. Next year, Nikki is off to HIGH SCHOOL! Gulp. (Side note… Seriously – if they’re going to call it a “winter concert” and there’s nothing to do with Christmas in the content, why can’t they have it in January or February when our lives are a little less busy?)
5. Winter concerts always cause me a great deal of stress because I’m just NOT one of those organized moms who has nice little outfits picked out for each of the kids months in advance of a big event. Every year I know it’s coming, and every year I’m left scrambling to find the appropriate clothing. Oh it’s black pants/skirts and white shirts this year? Hmmm…. does anyone HAVE black pants? Or a white shirt without a stain on it? Last night’s concert was preceded with a frantic visit to the thrift store for a pair of black shoes, followed by another frantic visit to the thrift store for a pair that FIT, followed by an equally frantic visit to the over-crowded mall for a black skirt, followed by a frantic mom hemming a pair of black pants. In the end, all were dressed and clean and we were even EARLY arriving at the concert! (But supper consisted of that evil entity known as “fast food”.)
6. I have never EVER left my Christmas shopping to this late in the season. Oh dear. This may be the year of the gift cards.
by Heather Plett | Dec 15, 2009 | Uncategorized
Exactly five years and 1000 posts ago, I dipped my toes in this big unknown world known as blogland. I didn’t know what I was getting into, but I loved to write and I was curious about what it would be like to put my ramblings out into a public space.
I started this blog as a way of processing my thoughts and feelings as I prepared to go to Africa for the first time. I was excited about it, but wanted to process the impact it might have on me.
A lot of water has passed under that bridge since. Right from the start, I was “fumbling” and I’ve done a whole lot of fumbling ever since – for words, for truth, for hope, for relationships, for peace, for inspiration… you name it, I’m a fumbler.
I’ve blogged from Kenya, Tanzania, Ethiopia, India and Bangladesh. I’ve traveled from coast to coast in Canada and into the States a few times. I’m made a lot of online friends and had the opportunity of meeting about half a dozen of them in person. I’ve worked through some fairly major life challenges in this space. I’ve watched my children grow and shared some of their stories online. I’ve been encouraged and inspired by the many bloggers I’ve come to count as friends. I’ve watched other bloggers come and go. I’ve tried new things. I’ve learned to Twitter. I’ve taken a lot of pictures, and started watercolour painting. I’ve wrestled with what it means to be a little more fearless. I’ve started calling myself not only a writer, but an artist – all-be-it a “fumbling” one. More than anything, I’ve tried to be authentic, honest, and approachable.
I’m going to keep on fumbling and I’m going to keep on talking about it on this blog. It’s become such a big part of my life, I know I’d feel lost if I let it go.
Thank you, blog readers, for sharing these past five years with me (or at least the portion you’ve been around). I enjoy you immensely. You are my friends, my encouragers, and my fellow fumblers.
In appreciation of you – whether you’ve been here a long time, or just showed up today – I’m offering a prize to one lucky reader. I’d like to give each of you gifts, but that might be a little out of my budget, so this will have to suffice. One lucky reader will get all of this… (I tried to combine little pieces of who I am and what I like in the package.)
- Three books – God is No Laughing Matter, by Julia Cameron (author of The Artist’s Way), The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield, and Echoes of the Remnant, by the amazing artist and writer I met last week in Nova Scotia, Regina Coupar
- Two of my favourite photos, matted and ready to be framed
- A funky pair of earrings from my favourite shop in Mahone Bay, Nova Scotia
- A bar of fair trade milk chocolate from Just Us, a fair trade compnay in Nova Scotia
- A box of “cashews tumbled in Costa Rican milk chocolate infused with Chai spice” – my very favourite treat from SOMA chocolatiers in Toronto… mmmm….
- AND… here’s the biggy (not pictured above) – a gift from my favourite fair trade global gift store, Ten Thousand Villages – you get to pick something from their Under $25 page (or a couple of things that add up to under $25)!
Here’s how to enter:
- Leave a comment. You can say anything you want, but I’d be particularly interested in a comment about why you showed up here and why you’ve kept coming back (if you’ve been around more than once). I’d love to hear from some of the people who’ve been lurking but never leave comments – you know who you are!
- Follow me! If you show up in the “follow me” box on the right hand side bar, or if you’re already there, you’ll get one entry into the contest. If you follow me in some other RSS feed (Bloglines, etc.), let me know in the comments, and you’ll be added.
- Tweet or Retweet about this post (and include my tweet name, so I can track it – @heatherplett) and you’ll get your name entered.
If you do all three of the above, your name will be entered three times!
Thanks for visiting! I hope you keep coming back!
Note: The draw will be held on the weekend.
by Heather Plett | Dec 14, 2009 | Uncategorized
I had the pleasure of meeting today’s guest blogger when I went to Cleveland a few months ago for the Creative Dig Workshop. The first thing I noticed about Christine was her big welcoming smile that makes you feel like you will be safe with her. Christine is a deeply spiritual person, and she shares her wisdom and her struggles over at BlissChick. Christine is on her own amazing journey this week, to a magical place called Kripalu where she’s dancing and dreaming and following her calling.
For far too long, I have been trying to keep a lid on my soul’s most precious dreams. This lid is sturdy, made of things like “practicality” and “realism.”
To be more specific, this lid is made of stories about what I “should” want or “can” have.
The first thing I did to construct the lid, many years ago, was tell myself that as I age, yoga would be better for me than dance. I would be able to do yoga for my whole life. It would help me to age gracefully.
Who knew it would simply age me? I wanted to dance, and there is no substitute for your soul’s work that will not age you. Your soul’s work will keep you youthful and vital. Infinite, as you are meant to be.
The second thing I did to create and tighten this lid was to tell myself that I have always wanted to be a writer.
I am a good writer. I have an excellent relationship with that particular muse; she is generous with the ideas.
That does not mean writing completely fulfills me. Only your soul’s work will truly fulfill you. Yes, you can do many other things, but your soul will still ache and cry out for what it needs.
Eventually, if you keep this lid screwed on tightly enough, your soul will shrivel and you will join the ranks of the Walking Dead. You know them. You’ve seen them in your daily life. Perhaps you see one when you look in the mirror.
Their eyes lack luster. They martyr themselves to the needs of others. They are exhausted all the time.
I have no idea by what Grace I was freed of this fate, but one day I danced and the lid popped off and my Soul got the fresh air she needed.
I have been dancing ever since.
I cannot not dance. No matter what, I know I would find a way to do this work.
There are days that I struggle, still, because I am human.
Yet…there is one giant clue that I am home, that I am finally free.
I am no longer encumbered by a desire for Perfection. I am in love with Process. I am in love with the day to day of dance.
My body tells stories — true stories — when I allow her to fumble and to falter.
When I loose the bridle of perfection that has kept me tied to a life of lies and settling, I shine.
