Some books get more love than others

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being yourself, control, fear, goals, inspire, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, security, teacher, words

Look at the place of honor my childhood etiquette book has on my shelf at home, right on top of old Charlie Brown comics and even Charlotte’s Web. I’ve always loved this book, set in rhyme, because it spelled out the expectations of adults. It seemed I was always getting everything wrong as a kid and this book held hope that if I only studied the rules I could lift myself into the world of those who knew how to behave. And even though it reinforced the gender stereotypes of the day it was still a book embued with hope.

There is plenty of advice in there about not bothering one’s parents and being nice to pets, lots of ideas that helped me learn to be civilized even when the world around me seemed less so. But this page seems especially sweet. I have shelves full of dear old books that have served me well over the years speaking to me with unqualified respect every time I open them.

I love books. But some are more special than others.

Poetic gesture

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being yourself, express feelings, inspire, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, joy, listening, love, marriage, mentors, natural talent, parents, passion, relationship, words, writing

My friend was recipient of a most romantic gesture. Her partner built and installed this beautiful poetry post. It is positioned right next to the sidewalk so passersby may read her poetry every time she puts up something new.

This is no way to decorate

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being yourself, control, goals, inspire, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, joy, teacher, words, writing

 

I used to have a lovely authentic Japanese kimono on this wall at the foot of our bed. Then one day I carried it to the spare bedroom where I draped it over a mirror and then put up the rows of painters tape you see here. Now every morning I wake to the unavoidable sight of my job. That giant self-assigned project I’ve been working on….my book.

This is a diagramatic representation of every story and every turning point in my memoir as directed by Blake Snyder in his book on screenwriting, Save the Cat. He has chapter after chapter discussing the virtues of deliberately laying out a story in order to measure the pacing and to be sure the critical elements that move a story forward are present and are effectively tied to one another. He’s the one who recommended this wall.

Some days when I open my eyes first thing in the morning, I’m disappointed to see the decorating that must be driving my husband crazy. (Why didn’t I do this in the spare bedroom and leave the kimono in our room?) Other days I so clearly see my progress and know that the most recent switching of sticky notes was correct and the story solidly conveys the themes I intend.

Sometimes after a long daydream or walk in the woods I run upstairs to see just what order I have arranged certain elements, or if the big climax is really where I think it is. Other days I have to see if my favorite story made the cut or after all the shuffling I’ve done it made the reject basket instead. I am using this wall to check points in my book proposal, or to see if what I told my agent makes sense.

I love this wall of bad decorating even though I look forward to the day the kimono goes back up.

 

Is it possible to be more romantic than this?

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being yourself, dreams coming true, express feelings, friends, friendship, higher power, inspire, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, joy, listening, love, marriage, passion, relationship, words

Paris Opera House Ceiling

Everything about this moment was romantic. It wasn’t enough just to be back in Paris thirty-five years after we’d honeymooned there, but we were also staying at the same hotel and stopping in at Fouquet’s, the same place on the Champs-Elysee we’d stumbled onto late one night when we were newlywed where we had chocolate mousse we hadn’t ever forgotten.

No, all that wasn’t romantic enough.

My husband thought we should have a date out on the town and lined up a trip to the opulent Paris Opera Garnier. We donned our fanciest travel clothes and sat beneath the blessing of Marc Chagall’s colorful celebration of art itself.

And as if that wasn’t enough, the program that night, an homage to Jerome Robbins, harkened back to our early days. As newlyweds we often attended the New York City ballet at their outdoor summer home at Saratoga Performing Arts Center in upstate New York. The staging of “Glass Pieces” in particular was so familiar that it took my breath away to know I was in Paris, France, at the Opera House, with my boyfriend who was still following me around and delighting me with his thoughtfulness and kindness and shared joy of all things artistic, that I could barely watch through the tears in my eyes.

We left that night, awed by the layered gilded building, the rainbow of Chagall’s ceiling, the drama of ballet and the deep thankfulness in our hearts for one another and for the great good fortune to be able to hold each other’s hands still and take it all in.

Great writing should not put you to sleep!

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control, inspire, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, listening, security, teacher, words, writing

My sister’s cats sleeping together!

I recently learned of a podcast that is pretty funny and useful for settling down. It is called Sleep With Me  (https://www.sleepwithmepodcast.com/.) There are hundreds of episodes and it is designed to help people fall asleep by telling really boring stories. These are “bedtime stories to help grown ups fall asleep in the deep dark night.”

The one I listened to was called “Baked Beans: The Adventures of Mr. Triangle and Isosceles.” A town of math-appreciating people will see a show that they must pay for with cans of baked beans, but there is trouble when it is realized that the wagon scheduled to carry all the cans of baked beans cannot stand the load. This story, told by a man who drolls on and on, often stumbling around for words and deftly emphasizing little parts of speech that make you stop and question what you just heard, breaks all the rules of writing by never getting to the point, using mindless dialogue, reiterating points and leaning on cliches.

The other one I heard was called something like “20 Steps to Self-Skin Care” and the first ten minutes were devoted to applying one’s fingertips to the face very deliberately and specifically in order to execute a light massage he called “running through Strawberry Fields.” It’s hilarious and relaxing and soporific.

I am planning on sharing this with the students in the Creative Writing class come Fall because it really drives home the idea that good writing should not put one to sleep.

My television addiction

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American Idol, being yourself, inspire, Jane Butler, singers

Have I already confessed to watching American Idol incessantly? I am serious, I collect every show on DVR and then watch it over and over again when I’m home alone.

But it’s more than enjoying the music. I want to see how the winning contestant/artist, who is new at this, gets there. That’s the part I like. I like watching people who are new at trying this thing of singing on television, in front of judges. And truthfully, anyone really good on this show has been singing for years because they indeed do love to do it. It’s that they are new at thinking of themselves as worthy of the opportunity to sing in front of influential people and millions of people.

I like watching this because there is a clear progression from people who are scared and trying it out in the beginning, to those same folks getting comfortable being themselves. I love watching this! I love seeing people get out of their own way to just open their mouths, get into their song, and let it come out. This is inspiring to me, someone trying to do the same thing that I am trying to do in my life, just not in singing. (Alas, I am a terrible singer.) I’d love to get more comfortable writing my story, hearing my own voice in it, being myself and not worrying about what others will think, or what will happen if I show who I really am. I am obsessed with trying to get there. Trying to let go of the hiding that has happened to me.

Growing up I was not allowed to be myself. There was always something wrong with that. I rarely felt I was doing the right thing, and I didn’t often inspire my parents into saying that they were pleased with me. They did not say they loved me and they did not say I was wonderful. I worried about how they felt, but I had no idea how they felt. I had no idea if they even liked me. It was terribly confusing as a kid to be constantly trying to get it right with so little information, so little feedback about anything I ever did that WAS good. I had little to go on about what I was doing right, and plenty of information on what I was doing wrong. I learned to be afraid of being myself. I was actively NOT doing things rather than actively DOING things.

So here I am today trying to figure out still how to be me!

Watching the folks on American Idol try to be themselves, which is what is needed to sing like a rock star, is fascinating for me. I see tiny developments when I watch the show over and over, that tell me the contestants are trying new ways of allowing themselves to ‘be’, as they do not stop themselves or worry about what others will think. Jena is the contestant I saw do this so well this season.

She came on singing music she wrote herself. She got better each week but you saw her stumble trying new ways. Once she even said that some things worked and some did not, showing us that she was challenging herself to try things and forgiving herself when not everything went perfectly. Yet in all that she never lost herself or her ability to sing beautifully. She kept going, kept adding new skills, and in the end she is fantastic! Always being true to herself and allowing herself to show through. I am so proud of her, and simultaneously jealous that she has people around her actively trying to show her how to do it. Encouraging her out loud, and kindly, to do this difficult thing.

I have always wanted that. So I live vicariously through the contestants on this show, not only because they get to sing so well, which I’d love to be able to do, but because they have people around them dedicated to lifting them up and showing them who they are and encouraging them to be bold enough to embrace that and share it.

Guess what, I was thinking about you

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being yourself, express feelings, inspire, Jane Butler, teacher, writing

Funny thing happened today in English class. My Goth friend, who earlier this week literally needed to be woken up from a sound sleep, suddenly was acting oddly interested. I hadn’t planned on it but I told him I’d been thinking about him outside of class. I’d been talking about him to a friend, I told him, for no reason other than that he is a standout in class for having fallen asleep so often.

Now normally all I’ve ever seen of this guy is the crown of his head, and a glimpse of his pale skin glancing past his long black hair. He’s usually hunched over and usually withdrawn, and usually doesn’t talk,

I guess I felt so encouraged with him looking directly at me, in response to the revelation that I’d been thinking about him out of class, that I just kept going. I told him the whole story of my friend, the person I’d told about my sleeping Goth student. I guess I told them both about each other, actually. And I didn’t hold back. My friend, I told my student, surprised me by telling me about how he too once was an army boot and flak jacket wearing teen who was headed down the wrong path, getting arrested and doing drugs, not that I presumed to know what my Goth friend did outside of class.  But this had in hindsight been a kind of reaction to the long slow painful dismantling of his family over the course of many years. Turns out his dad left the family and his mom was so deeply grief-stricken as to appear mentally ill, and it dragged out for ten years before it felt like it ended.

Checking out, getting into trouble, these were ways to carry on in the face of disaster. My friend said he landed in a foster care situation and then his father did something unusual for fathers who leave their kids, he came back and got his wayward son into boarding school. From there he made it to college and onto a path that was healthier. I told all this to my student in a long exposition I hadn’t planned, and so I laughed at how us adults, this friend of mine and me too, project our experiences and understanding onto others. How he had suggested that maybe my Goth student was like him, reacting to issues at home. I had said, who knows, maybe.

By now my Goth student was quite present with me. I wrapped up my monologue and explained about the power of words and why we bother with the writing assignment before us. About how it’s hard to let kids know the value of learning, and how to communicate through writing, but this assignment is, unfortunately, how we do it. I told him no matter how crappy life is or what you do or do not have, communicating with words can get you all kinds of chances – jobs, college entrance, scholarships, girls, apologies, everything. So let’s humor the system, I proposed, and work on this essay together.

That’s when all of a sudden, he started talking, stringing whole sentences together, and looking right at me.

God was friendly again today as usual

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being yourself, earth, express feelings, higher power, inspire, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler

As I meet people at the Philadelphia Writer’s Conference this weekend I feel renewed confidence in my intuition since after all it is just that that led me there, so accordingly it is time to post this gratitude to the earth once more which I first posted in February.

I grew up isolated and in the woods so I am always looking to nature for signs of communication. You know, a breeze or a thunderbolt or a special crash of a wave in answer to my question, whether posed aloud or in my heart. And so today is no different, as I have found my whole life, it is good to discuss my problems with the earth. I do not know why, but no one else as far as I can see up and down the beach, wanted to walk along the sand at seven in the morning in February except my pup, who heartily agreed when I asked her. So there I was again, under my own personal sky. I looked out to God and said, “I have stood on these shores countless times in my life, and I have looked out at your grandeur and your beauty over and over. You are always here no matter how many years go by. No matter how many times I look to you to show me the way, no matter how many times I look to you to hear me and see me and know me, and no matter what, you are still out there being solid and present and beautiful. Nothing much seems to change with you, gorgeous sunrise above the earth, but boy, my world sure has changed.”

That’s when I saw the sun, shrouded by gray stormy clouds, peaking out a bit in answer. Oh, yes, I thought to myself, that is how it is, my earth always responds. I can always trust that. Well what about all the troubles I feel, the pains about getting out of my isolation, and trusting that the world can take the frightened person that hides in me? How perfect is it that I feel ready to share myself more, at last, and not let fears rule my life? How perfect is it that you have been standing ready for me to say these words, because you have been sharing yourself and your perfect glory for eons already, so you know what it is. I walked along some more feeding treats to my pup every time she came back from a dig at a crab hole to let me know she is still my friend for life. The clouds shifted and a few tears flew into the wind. I stopped, and as is common for me, I addressed the world directly, after all I could not feel safer than when entirely completely all alone, and I said thank you. Thank you for still being out there for me even though so many people and ideas and hopes and dreams have come and gone. I know I can do this. I know I can carry on and be myself out in the world despite the confusion I feel.

That’s when the sun glided bright suddenly forcing clouds aside to say directly to me in a broad and winning smile, “Yes.”

And that’s when I laughed out loud, because I am sure that one footstep washed away by the sand at a time, I am getting to precisely where I have always been going.

Sometimes you have to give to yourself that which you most want from others

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being yourself, control, dreams coming true, express feelings, friends, higher power, inspire, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, love, trust

Is it wrong of me to have American Idol singers playing on continuous loop while I am home paying bills and cooking and writing a book? Is it wrong of me to want to find connection with others through a screen or a speaker?

Sometimes I feel that I have been left out of the circuit that binds others together and I cannot figure out where humanity has gone.

So it turns out that every one of these singers is telling me the same thing: I need to be my own best friend. I need to love myself. I need to accept that I am on a path in life that is alone. No amount of trying to get others to be with me, to understand me, to explain themselves to me, will do. No amount of trying to connect in a way that cannot be, will do. I have to walk alone and be alone until I connect. And until that happens I have to trust myself and love myself and be myself, alone.

And in all the moments I am next to someone who is right there with me, hallelujah for that moment. Otherwise, I am loving me because that is who I have for sure.

No matter how many times I reinvent the wheel, rediscover that I must love myself best because no one else can do it for me, I seem to have to learn it all over again. It is a long road, this life, I am in.

Junk TV accidentally models civility!!

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change, dreams coming true, goals, higher power, inspire, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, joy, love, marriage, mother, parents, relationship, security, trust

My daughter and I watched the entire season of The Bachelor on television this Spring, and I am so excited about how it ended. It ended with a decent guy finding a decent girl, jilting a decent other girl who was quite classy in her reaction to being dismissed, seeking to learn more about herself and wishing the happy couple well, and thus highlighting the possibility that this junk TV show could serve to inform millions on how decent people behave. I was most impressed by the father of the bachelor who said he welcomed either of the two possible young ladies his son might select, and that he’d be that girl’s biggest advocate once she joined the family. The turmoil of having to pick a bride on national television, on a timeline, when two outstanding choices were at hand, was managed with prayer, the bachelor told us. Now prayer is a loaded term if you ask me, but I see it as a code word for any kind of soul searching, introspective, meditation or reverence that includes rationally considering many options and waiting to sense clarity after doing so. Argue with me if you want to on that, but that is how I am interpreting what the young man said.

I love the idea that possibly many households across America, mine included, will learn by watching what it is to be loving and kind. This family highlighted support for one another, and as one of the young women said, everyone knew what was going on and everyone was trying to help. In an impressive conversation we see the bachelor tell his mother he values her opinion and will weigh it, but more than anything he wishes for her support whatever he chooses to do. It was the model of loving civility and both of the girls he was considering looked at this family and were delighted at the prospect of joining such a seemingly healthy group of people.

Now who knows what the truth is. We do not know what goes on behind closed doors, or what miracles are generated through skilled editing, but regardless of the validity of the scenes with which we were presented, they represented to me a wholesomeness I wish for all families on earth.