Hello from the restaurant booth on a very cold Saturday,
The temperature is still in single digits and has risen to 6, but fortunately there is little wind. Otherwise it would be beyond brutal. Thursday was productive and yesterday was the opposite. I spent the better part of the day merely trying to manage the replacement of a piece of my iPhone case (not the phone, the camera covering). Between driving to Fort Dodge, waiting on hold at the AT&T store, working with the manager, waiting for a return call, having the call dropped, and then finally speaking to another person, I got another phone number to call and no replacement part. Quite incredible. And all because AT&T does not want to carry accessories for the iPhone 15. Not sure how much of this is Apple pushing them to sell 16s, but that obsolescence would not be surprising. We’ll see on Monday what I can accomplish.
The bus build is progressing, but there are moments I feel overwhelmed. Might I be better assisting and being the grunt than being the general foreman? Trying to decide the order of the project is so significant, and I have already miscalculated a couple things. Nothing too consequential, but a couple things that cost some money that did not have to happen. All learning lessons. The sequence of things is something I wish I knew more intuitively. The external elements (e.g removing and replacing things on the roof, installing the grey water tank, prepping the floor for sealing, insulating, and managing the wool insulation on the sides) seem rather straightforward, but what about how plumbing for the grey water tank need to come through the floor? What about the brackets for the tank, and it seems something that protects the tank from stones and other hazards needs to be considered. If I can get the fiberglass work, the metal doors, the grey water tank, the roof items, and the floor completed by February 1st, I will be elated. This week will be a significant work week. Yikes! I just published and I am not done. Guess I do need to write rapidly now!!
I write because it helps me think. It allows me to stop, step back, and ponder the things that confound me, that vex me, that cause me pause. The putting things into words clears out my head, allowing me to separate thought and emotion, two things foundational to our humanity. Of course, the writing in this forum for more than a decade has been, at times, sporadic, but it has become the most significant way to make sense of my life, of our world, and of the things that catch me off guard. A favorite quotes, one that has been my email signature for a couple years, was penned by Martin Luther, the reformer. He said (wrote), “If you want to change the world, pick up your pen and write.” I have looked, trying to find when he penned this, but it would be logical to believe it was before he nailed the 95 Theses to the castle door at Wittenberg. For me writing clarifies my ideas, and as such, more effectively communicates the topics I find important. While I did not plan to be writing a blog more than a decade later, there have been moments readers note it raised awareness as well as inspired them to do something of consequence. One of my motivations for this blog was to offer insight into my own life experiences, which might, by chance, provide some assistance to another. If that happens all the better. Yesterday, through text with someone I admire and appreciate, they noted I knew so much about so many things, and they complimented me on both my experiences and travel. That was affirming, but I see myself as someone who had opportunities and was able to benefit from them. What writing has allowed me to do is reflect on those experiences, those travels, and place myself into the larger space we refer to as society. The writing has pushed me, compelled me, to keep pondering, to keep questioning. I have always been that person, but it was not particularly organized or consistent. Taking the time to write has provided a willingness to engage topics that I might have avoided, especially when it came to my own introspection or accountability. A little over 10 years ago I wrote a blog, which became a letter to my deceased mother, one who with her husband adopted my sister and me. To say my relationship with her was fraught with difficulty is the epitome of understatement. She had told me I would never amount to much, that I did not deserve to be in their house. She told my grandmother, the person who was a mother to me pre-elementary, she did not want me back in their house when I was 16 and blamed me for my father’s heart attack. So, there was not a great deal of kindness in either direction. And yet, a quarter century after her passing, I was bitter. That bitterness did not hurt my mother, she was gone. However, that sadness, that anger I carried hurt others, and the bitterness hollowed me out. While I came off as a generally nice person, there was an underlying sense of pain that created more problems than it should have. There was a mistrust, a fear of rejection, and a belief that nothing could ever work out in my personal life. Too often I self-sabotaged, often unknowingly until it was too late. And yet, I needed to realize why. It was because my bitterness kept me from forgiving.
My writing of that blog created a pathway to forgiveness, and forgiveness provided freedom. In spite of my solid understanding as a pastor the those theological principles were of confession, of absolution, I had not forgiven my mother. She was an imperfect human just as I was, and am. She had her own unresolved trauma, It caused a lot of difficulty, not only for her, but for those in her life. My failure to understand her struggles are an example of my own imperfections, of my selfishness. The consequence of my selfishness, of my own anger, created serious problems, and now, decades later while I am still imperfect, almost all the unresolved anger and sadness in my life is gone. There are still moments, but the person who often lashed out in pain has been healed (and yes, forgiven). That is an incredible result of writing a letter to my mother, one 25 years after her death. Writing is something many people struggle to do, but most of that is because they believe it must be done correctly; it must be done well. They are afraid to allow it to see the light of day. If I had a dollar for every time I heard “I do not write well.” as if that should be just acceptable, I could probably pay for another bus build. However, you do not need to share it. You can maintain its secrecy if that serves you better. 
What I know is the writing I do now is better than the writing I first did when I started this blog 12 years ago. What I believe is my taking the time to write has improved my life. It has made my relationships more meaningful, and I believe healthier. Writing has helped me engage more thoughtfully with my former students, understand our increasingly complex world with a sense of optimism, and reflect on most anything with a calmness that was not possible earlier in life. If my writing resonates with another and improves their outlook, that makes the time spent even more worthwhile. So, if you need some clarity, as Luther said, “pick up your pen.” Some of my students have noted what was initially an assignment became a refuge. That makes it worth something much larger than anticipated. As I begin a new year of posting, there are more things on the horizon, new possibilities. Please stay tuned. Over the weekend, I found myself listening to soundtracks from some of my favorite movies. This song can cause me to tear up every time.
Happy New Year, and thank you as always for reading.
Michael
thewritingprofessor55 