Does everyone else see object lessons everywhere or is that just me? Maybe it’s just those of us who went to Sunday School.
If you're new to the concept, an example of an object lesson would be the recently revived one about how to fill the jar (which is your time) with important things first. For those of you who haven’t seen this object lesson and would like to, here you go: rocks, pebbles, sand: object lesson.
I remember seeing a LOT of object lessons at church. In fact, I seem to recall my own mom delivering many of them. I liked them. For me, the connection between a concept and a visual representation of that concept was an ideal learning tool. I think that's why I love metaphor in writing, and why I can’t plan a lesson for students without some kind of visual or hands-on component. Or just a good old-fashioned object lesson.
The problem with object lessons is that once you have that medium in your head, you can’t stop seeing object lessons everywhere.
This line-up at the grocery store represents my life journey; I rushed around filling my basket with everything I want and now I’m sitting here, weighed down by the burden of my materialism and greed, knowing that I will have to pay for it in the end. (rainy day version)
This line-up at the grocery store represents my life journey; I have filled my basket with things that nourish me and now wait patiently to take my gifts out into the world. (sunny day version)
Shoveling up dog poop in the backyard represents life; some tasks are not fun or enriching, but if you don’t take care of them regularly, they can really start to pile up. (There is no sunny day version of poop-scooping. Just FYI.)
I bet I could think of one right now. I’m sitting in front of the woodstove. Give me a minute. Go have some toast. No, you stay here and read. I’ll go have toast.
Okay, I’m back. (By the way, toast is like writing; you take some boring bread (story), make it into something more appealing by toasting it (a tiny exaggeration or two), then jazz it up with peanut butter (a whopper of a lie), and voila, you have something everybody loves. See? Easy.)
Anyway, back to the woodstove. Let’s go with an obvious metaphor; the fire is my power source - as a writer. It represents all the things my soul requires to feel safe and balanced and ready to work. It is the heart of my creativity.
On top of the stove, we always have a kettle and a fan. The fan is one of those that is powered by heat energy. No motor. When the fire gets going, the fan starts whirring; when the fire gets going, the kettle gets warm. The fan circulates the warm air into the room, and the kettle adds moisture to that air.
This morning, the sun was glinting off the flying blades of the fan and getting in my eyes. Also, it was making a slight ticking noise that was annoying me. So, I took it off the stove and put it on the floor. Of course, it stopped working. It is four inches away from its power source and it is just sitting there doing nothing.
The kettle on the other hand, never annoys me. It isn’t the whistling type. Just sits there day after day doing its job. An important job, mind you. Wood heat is dry and our little humidifier tea pot is necessary. As long as you fill it with water every now and again, it will consistently do what we need it to do.
Hmm. Me thinks I am the fan. I have been discouraged in my writing life lately. And, aside from complaining to you, I am doing a lot of fan-impersonating during my Spring Break – just sitting here doing nothing. How did I get away from my inspiration? What moved me those crucial few inches from my source of power?
Sometimes I wish I was the kettle. Never annoying anyone, just sitting there inconspicuously, doing my job quietly and consistently. Everyday.
Got it! Be the fan and the kettle!
Do my job every day: write. Use my writing to figure out why I have lost touch with my creativity. Then get my flashy fan-self, back up onto the stove and start annoying people again.
You know, Richard Wagamese said, To be creative, you have to get in touch with the creator.
I will start there. I have my ways of trying to touch base with Creator. They are probably not the same as yours, but I will find my source again. I can and I will.
Spooky p.s. (*goose bump warning)
When I closed my computer, I went to smudge and sit and I opened Embers (Richard Wagamese) to this:
Question: How do I find Creator?
Answer: You decide what Creator is. If you decide She is peace, love, humility, and non-judgment, you decide to work toward embodying those qualities in your walkabout world. The closer you get to that, the closer you are to finding Creator. That’s what our ceremonies are for. To teach you that Creator is in you, that She always was and always will be. (p.122)
Monica Nawrocki -