Creativity Tips: World Laughter Day

There is nothing more creatively instigating than laughter. Thanks to everyone who came out to the Greater Kansas City PRSA Solo Pros event yesterday --- what a treat to laugh with all of you!

This Sunday is World Laughter Day, an event Lance at Jungle of Life pointed out to me. Lance and friends are launching The Levity Project. As a first step, they're taking it to the streets of New York City this Sunday to create "playfulness and fun, with the idea that through joy, we can all experience a bit more peace in our world."

If you're in New York, go party! The event is free, but you need to register.

By the by, I will be in Manhattan on Sunday. Manhattan, Kansas. For international CI team members, I couldn't make this up.

Oh! Almost forgot. This is Poem in Your Pocket Day! I decided to go with Cascando, an old favorite by Samuel Beckett. It's in a poetry book so beloved it's now held together with tape. I've lost track of Joel, the boy who gave it to me, but I still have his book!

Creativity Tips: Move On

I tell lots of personal stories on the blog, generally with the hope that the lessons inherent in the stories are useful. The lesson in this one is simple: There are times you have to say something before you can move on. I need to say this ...

During the past few months, a small group of us spent a lot of time with Duana -- at her home, in the hospital, and then at Hospice House. Did she need us? Absolutely. But our caregiving wasn't purely altruistic. We needed her too. And we knew our time with her was limited.

So, when people lavish praise on us -- and they have -- here's my response: All we did is what friends do. We showed up. We helped. Each in our own way, we helped.

It will take a long time to fully comprehend the gifts Maureen, Mary Jo, Janey and the rest of us received by being with Duana during her final days. I already know this: I wouldn't have missed a moment.

I also know that the whole "live like you were dying" concept is a helluva lot more romantic when it's a song than when it's real. There was no sky-diving at Hospice House. Take the meaning of the song to heart: Go Rocky Mountain climbing now.

For my own creative sanity, I need to write a long piece about Du -- not a blog entry. So I will. But, for now, I'm moving on. Which is exactly what she would want me to do.

Creativity Tips: Celebrate Poetry

It's National Poetry Month and I've done nothing about it. NOTHING. It's just wrong. So, I'm fixing that right now.

Thursday is Poem in Your Pocket Day. It's a simple idea: Select a poem you love, write it down or print it out, and carry it with you on Thursday. Share it with people throughout the day. Or, just feel better, knowing it's there.

I asked the hubby which poem he'd choose, and I love his selection: Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost.* Our daughter Kate did this painting, inspired by Frost's poem, in 6th grade. She had a wonderful teacher, Mrs. Hannah, who had the kids memorize and recite poetry. Sigh ... makes me happy just to think of it.

But, I digress. I'm telling you about Thursday's event now, so you have time to participate. What poem will you carry?

*Oh, sure. There's a classic poem with "harness" right in it. Try to find one with "Sokoloff."

Creativity Exercise: Write a Pop Song

Here's one from Bud: Write a pop song. Apparently, it only takes four chords. Bud says he "worked them out as E, B, C#, A but D, A, B, G work too."

I don't know chords from cords, but the video cracked me up. And laughing is always a good way to start a week! Thanks, Bud!

Food is Love: Key Lime Bars

Yesterday, Leslie made these incredible key lime bars* for my birthday. Scott made blondies, Renee made a chocolate raspberry cake and Tom made brownies. I gained 2,000 pounds in one day, and it was worth it.

I feel very loved. And, as I write this, I'm reminded of how lucky we are that life is continual change. Last Friday, I was giving a eulogy for a dear friend. Today, I'm basking in the abundance of a most-excellent birthday.

It may sound trite, but it's true: Life is good. And all our losses and tears make the happy times so much sweeter.

*Note to Leslie: There were 9 million key lime recipes on the Martha Stewart site, so if I grabbed the wrong one, would you let us know? Thanks! Or, we could just eat our way through the recipes. Hmmmm ...

My Theory on Birthdays

Why do I schedule my posts to publish at 4:22 a.m.? All together now:

Because April 22 is my birthday!

Very good. And here's my theory on birthdays and other important issues. If something matters to you, don't expect/hope/worry that people will realize that and come through for you. Even people who love you cannot always read your mind. (And isn't that fortunate?)

Birthdays matter to me. Thanks for being part of my celebration!

P.S. A lady never tells her age. I'm 55. Ugh. Celebration aside, that looks relatively hideous in print. At some point, I may have to claim middle-age. But not yet. Not yet.

Creativity Tips: Be Specific

Want to paint a picture with your words? Be specific. Details bring copy to life, whether you're writing an ad, a grant proposal or a sermon. The Red Coat by Idris Anderson is a wonderful example. The details "we aren't supposed to notice" make this real and carry us through the poem to the wonderful conclusion.

The Red Coat
by Idris Anderson

It's sleeting when we walk from the white church,
the ground frozen, the brown grass brittle.
I am somewhat back in the long black line of mourners,

behind my sisters, their husbands and children. I see it
all as it's happening as though it's not happening.
The roses on the polished oak of my father's coffin

are sheeting with ice and I know the red coat
is too thin to keep my mother warm. She's not shivering.
She walks across the breaking grass behind the coffin

slowly and with great dignity—without her oxygen tank,
her mouth open, a rose filled with snow.
She's walking toward something silver and mechanical,

like a fence around the grave. There's a canopy imprinted
with the logo of the funeral home, Herndon and Sons,
and four rows of white plastic chairs and the artificial grass.

A blue tarp covers a red clay pile of earth. We aren't supposed
to notice these things. Bits of color in wool hats and scarves
and the red coat. My mother was determined to wear the red coat

which I'd bought for myself but gave to her because she loved it,
because it is the color that he loved on her,
because I could not bear her not having anything she loved.

"The Red Coat" by Idris Anderson, from Mrs. Ramsay's Knee. © Utah State University Press, 2008.