Essay on Writing

~Inspirational Writing~

I consider Inspirational Writing that word or phrase that grabs the heart,

and touches the soul. This sort of writing moves us to be the best of who we

really are. It gives us wings to soar above the disasters of everyday

living. It contributes to the cosmos that surrounds us. Inspirational

writing illuminates the darkness bringing hope and joy.

To be inspired nourishes a connection to creative energy. People generally

accomplish more when living creatively. Inspiration brings clarity, and

clarity defines us. When each of us creates, we touch the depths of being,

and we are whom we choose to be.

Belief begets thought, thought begets word, word begets deed; and things

materialize in our worlds. Nothing is without worth.

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Question and My Answers

Why Write?

I write because from age three it has been imperative to my personality. I

must do it or become hopelessly ill and evil tempered. My relationships fair

better when I write regularly. Often, my family and friends worry about me

should I neglect writing for long periods.

My counselors and psychiatrist explain writing is very prominent as a tool

for my lasting recovery. I want this with tenacity, hence, I write.

The pleasure I derive from my work is reason enough alone. Nothing thrills

more than a workable phrase, and compliments boost my low esteem. Writing

balances me; it is my gift to me. Did I not write; I fear I would not long

last in this challenging world. Writing is freedom, without freedom the soul

languishes into a tepid shadow of itself. I want my soul strong, tragedy has

often dogged my steps, and writing gives me a chance of escaping such a quagmire.

Educating the young is one of my fondest goals. My writing informs me,

affording me greater flexibility when working with youth. This helps

maintain my devotion to the practice.

I love the elderly, writing is an excellent means to reach them, and so I

commit to it habitually. Letters to those I love are treasured and that

gratifies me. Reaching future generations delights me, and is one of our

grandest missions.

Money is also a consideration. I hope to one-day support my family and myself via

the written word. Ever since I began writing, when I was three, this

has been one goal. I come closer to realizing it daily.

Why do you write? Is it so important what our answers are? I think not. The

vital thing is the process and the work. What it gives us is

consequential. However, it is nice to reap bountiful rewards through

writing.

Now, go write yourself, find your reasons for expressing your life through

the written word.

May 17, 2000

An Essay from 2001

An Attitude of Gratitude

Do you want to improve your spirits, lift up your heart? Begin counting your blessings and soon you will find the complaints have less meaning.

I Thessalonians 5:16-18 reads:

Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

In following the Lord our attitudes toward worldly things change to more resemble His ideal for us. Especially when we give thanks we find that the things mean less than the fact our Creator bestowed them.

I John 2:15-17 exhorts us:

Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For everything in the world – the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does – comes not from the Father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever.

We find that all we have, all we accomplish, and all our lives are truly in the hands of our loving Father. We can trust in this fact and rejoice knowing He will take care of all our needs.

Romans 8:28 says:

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him who have been called according to His purpose.

Resting in the Lord during difficult times is sometimes hard, but if we continue thanking Him for His loving kindness even during trials we gain treasure in faith.

Psalm 33:20-22 tells us:

We wait in hope for the Lord; He is our help and our shield. In Him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in His holy name. May Your unfailing love rest upon us, O Lord, even as we put our hope in You.

A sure antidote to feeling sad and pitiable is writing down that for which we are thankful. The exercise may even bring us to sing to the Lord in thanksgiving.

Psalm 69:30 reads:

I will praise God’s name in song and glorify Him with thanksgiving.

When we are grateful and delight in Jesus’ blessings toward us we suddenly find our hearts lighter, and our lives full of joy. We become more completely aware of the blessings that continually accrue to us.

Psalm 37:4 says:

Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.

Finally we should go to God in gratitude so that we may find more reason to accept one another. For nothing more brings us together than a feeling of gratitude and love.

I John 3:11

This is the message you heard from the beginning: We should love one another.

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Poster???

I made copies of some of my work to give as Christmas presents. I hope they will be liked. I would like to make posters of one of my essays and try to sell them at a art and craft fair. I think $60.00 for 100 11×17 color copies on white card stock would not be a bad deal. Mom says I should be able to sell the copies for $25.00 each. I would be happy with $10.00 each. I already posted the essay here, but it was a long time ago, so I am going to post it again.

You are a gift from the hand of the Creator…

Be aware of your importance…

In all places, times, persons, there has never been another exactly like me. I am a wonder and a treasure. I have gifts, talents, thoughts, ideas, expressions, and emotions that are uniquely special. There is purpose in my existence.

I am a perfect manifestation of the love of God. I have power and worth. My ability to create is unlimited. I am a blessing. I have no neediness or wantingness for all abundance continually accrues toward me.

I am beautiful for I am a creature made in God’s own image. I am an eternal being of love. My actions and words are right and good. I have no reason to fear.

Love flows from me into the world, changing lives. I inspire others to reach for their higher selves. They see their greatness reflected in my eyes and my actions toward them.

Every day I become more. I am constantly growing into the person I want to be. I am aware and awake to whom I am. God inhabits my world and me. With this unity, I can do miracles.

I am sure of myself, and of God. The light and love of the Savior infuse me. I am vastly important, supremely creative, because I AM.

Wednesday, April 12, 2000

Creative Prose from One of My Prompts

What gives you pleasure?

Do it today… You deserve happiness.

Writing gives me a great deal of pleasure. I enjoy seeing words spread across the blank page. Writing gives form to my thoughts and expresses my meaning. I am more alive when I write because I record my experience. I see more clearly what is happening in my life.

Writing creatively in the form of poetry or prose is a celebration. I reach for my best self when I make a beautiful line.

I do not always know what to say or how to say it, but if I write something comes to me. I often learn something through my writing. It may be an idea I would not have noticed were I not writing.

I am not always inspired and some of what I write may be mundane, but expressing my truth is a comfort to me. In this world we must take comfort where we find it; for much of life is harsh and inhospitable to our dreams.

I am glad I can express myself through my writing. When the writing goes well it is sheer joy. Writing is something I must do simply because I am alive. It is essential to my life. Without writing I would be bereft. Sometimes I do not write and my life is not as full at those times. Writing is happiness.

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

He Still Means The World To Me

Sometimes I feel like a gerbil, running around and around on his wheel! I don’t seem to get anywhere fast. Even when I do manage to go somewhere there seems to be a banister between me and the real action. Whether the banister is to protect me or placed there by some insensitive person to keep me from enjoying life is a question I have not quite figured out.

I can not imagine why anyone would deny me the freedom to make my own choices, but this seems to happen frequently in my life. Especially when it comes to my love life there seem to be all sorts of obstacles to block my path to happiness. These barriers are often erected by my family. I think their objections to my wishes are due to misconceptions about my love. However, I cannot discount them as total nonsense because there have been some incidents that could adversely influence most anyone’s opinion of the man.

I tend to be forgiving because I love him, but my family has a long history of holding grudges for years. I realize people make mistakes that they later regret and do things on the spur of the moment when under the power of strong emotion like anger. This I know because I have done it myself and my temper has gotten me into trouble more than once. In fact the situation that has most turned my family against my love was begun by a fit of temper on my part. So I blame myself for some of the damage that was done. I understand.

Now over five years later it seems insensitive and foolish to continue the anger. Time should work its healing spell even over such wounds. Expecting my family to give up their hate and thirst for revenge seems to be more than they can do. Even when faced with the fact that my love for him endures and my happiness suffers because I am not allowed to spend the time I want with him they will not relent.

I am an adult and their opinions should not have such devastating consequences for me, but in my particular situation my family exerts a lot of power over me. I do not have sufficient resources to live independently and so live in one of their domiciles. This despite the fact I am forty two years old puts me under their rule. They disapprove of my relationship so there is in effect no relationship.

Money would do a great deal to alleviate the problems in my life, but due to circumstances and choices in my past I do not have the capacity to earn enough money to free me from my situation. I tend to overestimate my ability to function in the business world. I have talent and intellect, but there seems a lack of opportunity to showcase my skills.

Sometimes I think if he really loved me, as he assures me he does, that he would step in and rescue me from my situation. Then again I think that is too much to expect of him after the problems we experienced in the past. Also, I want to go to him in my own power with his respect, not feeling indebted to him. I have lived without respect and personal power too long already. Still having him as my knight in shining armor has an allure and it would make the way much easier.

If anyone is interested in the details behind this bit of musing I could elaborate in future entries. There is quite a story behind all this, but I do not wish to bore those who still visit here. I post this as a creative exercise in lieu of the poem I am yet to create. Somehow my passion seems engrossed in this particular part of my life right now. When one cannot have what is most desired it tends to cause disruption to the fount of inspiration.

Smiles,

Jo Ann

A Special Story…

This is the story I have been typing into the computer… Hope you enjoy it! MSN kept crashing on me… so I went to bed at 3:53AM. I did not get the story finished until this afternoon. Typing is tiring for me even though it is much better than it was a few weeks ago. I got up at 10:00AM and ate breakfast. I went back to bed around 11:30AM and slept until 2:00PM. So far today MSN is cooperating with me.

Liberty and Legend

Walking through the desolate streets of long forgotten memory she found no refuge for her weary soul. Though there was in plenty pain and fear to make her conscience grounded and whole. For even in her past the remains of love and life she had left behind glowed bright with fevered light and beguiled her into the remembered night. She could see the images so clearly, those that passed into reverie. Would that there was someone to share the feast of reflections that cascaded through her mind. Where were all the friends she had depended on for so long? Had they died deaths of honor on the fields or pithy battles unwon, tainted with dreams of eternity.

She walked a creature unmade for the darkness. Weak light emitting from her form enshrouded in the deep ebon shadows that fell encompassing her in their dismal coldness. Her mind struggled to find a path through the pitch black fields sprawling ahead of her.

Then suddenly out of the darkness she saw another dim lit figure. He was armed with confidence glowing against the senselessness of hate. Her well trained arm reached for a sword at her side and she drew the weapon swiftly. The other hand strayed to a pistol holstered at the other side of her tiny waist. She laid her hand on the grip, hesitating to draw it.

Her voice cam a soft whisper, "Who are you and what business have you here among the trappings of the dead?"

He turned smoothly in one fluid motion, as if startled to find anyone else in the region. "I am Legend. I was searching for a body, still warm, to turn into a song for mortals to revere and carry into their history. I am astounded to find another traveling this road. Who are you, dear?"

She stepped closer and drew back the pale hood that draped her exquisite face. His breath was quickly indrawn. She smiled wanly, "I, dear Legend, am Liberty and walk this path often."

He stammered, "But we thought you lost among the visions and dreams that have passed into long ago. Come nearer my lady; let me get a better look at you."

"I remain, only if men would seek me and my sisters, Faith, Love, and Peace, and lay their arms away they might still find us." She said softly as she stepped forward.

Legend’s bright eyes went quickly over her form, noticing the blood stains on her gossamer garments. The fabric that clothed her was rich woven, but the stains were deep and not easily removed. He gestured for her to come even closer. "Are you harmed my sweet friend? Many are seeking you. Why do you linger here in the regions of the dead, who can do nothing to further your great cause?

Liberty looked past him into the deeper shadows, "I linger here for these were willing to sacrifice everything the held dear to follow me. Yes, I am deeply wounded for pompous men espouse their words in praise of me, but do not truly follow me. They only seek to enslave the weak, the poor, the homeless, by their speeches on prosperity."

Legend held out a hand, "Come dear, we will sit and compose a song for the present. Perhaps mankind will listen to us together."

She sheathed her sword and reached out her slender hand to join with his strong one.

Smiles,

Jo Ann

My Romance…

Going, Going, Going!

When I was very young, my romance with reading and writing began. I loved every word I encountered, tasting each one as it rolled off my tongue.

One particular word became my favorite, and to this day I love it. Going is the word of choice for me.

I remember as a child when mother began to gather purse and keys I would chortle, “Going, going, going!” Every time we left the trailer was an adventure to me. I loved riding the sleek white Buick into our little hometown. The trees and houses we passed on the narrow two-lane road enchanted me. There were people living in each house who were full of life. I imagined what they did, thought, and said, as I sat on the blue vinyl seat with mother beside me.

We went to the bank, and that fascinated me because money stayed there. Mom would take money in or get some out, and inevitably I would get a lollipop. Those were good days when tellers gave the luscious suckers out, perhaps to make some good association in a childish mind so when one grew older banking would be more palatable.

When we came out of the bank I would shift from foot to foot, “Going, going, going?” Sometimes we went to Grants, the local department store. There were beautiful new objects for me to admire on every shelf. Occasionally Mom bought me a new Pee-Wee doll or Matchbox car while we visited that wonderland.

If I was lucky, Mom stopped at the bright clean new McDonald’s to buy some lunch. What a feast the hamburger wrapped in crinkly paper, and the delicious golden fries spilling from their white paper bag with the famous arches printed on it, were.

“Going, going, going” is to this day tattooed on my mind with the fondest childhood memories. Now, going, going, going is a way of life for most of us. The simple splendor of a trip to town has lost much of its luster in our hustle, bustle world. We go to work, we go to the store, we go out to eat, so frequently and never seem to stand still long enough to breathe.

Hey now, I must let you go… maybe I will see you later… Going, going, going!

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Quotes From Me

I Say…

To grow takes a concentrated effort because change does not come easily but with disruption.

What is certain today may prove obsolete tomorrow.

Minds and hearts are like the oceans in constant state of motion.

I am not yet who I wish to be, but am choosing a path to lead me there.

My purpose is unclear to me, but I am convinced God will use me to good purpose.

Love is the goal of all life unless perverted beyond all reason.

Even a dim candle brings light to a dark space likewise one person may spread love to a lonely world. Go and be a friend to all you may find.

Teach tolerance, reap a community of understanding.

Art is a window into the soul of all who experience, the artist and observer benefit.

Did I not express myself I would remain unknown and unknowing for in expression I become real.

Each person is a gift from God to the universe and so is worthy of respect and love.

Words are immensely powerful, use them with tender care.

March 4, 2003

A Story from The Past

This is meant to be a funny story and I mean no slights to anyone. It happened to me years ago and nowadays I take care of such things myself again, but I think it is worth sharing without too much editing.

The Evening I Met the Primordial Force

Electricity

I am the average woman. I regulate some tasks to the men in my life, but when they do not accomplish what I desire, I endeavor to do it myself. This time I acted because he was not home, and I had to have this done immediately.

The bathroom fixture blossomed tulip like with three 100-watt bulbs and two were blown. As I am a creature of light, this wanted correction.

I plucked the first bulb out with no difficulty and replaced it. The second came unscrewed from the base leaving the metal in the socket. I turned off the power.

Alex, my son, brought a Mag-Lite® and I began working with the pliers. The base only bent, not coming out. I worked with it for what were moments, but seemed hours, to no avail.

The light was insufficient to see properly. Alex stood on the green tile by the door. I told him to turn on the lights, and obedient boy he is, he did so.

The counter was high and I was kneeling on its damp marbleized surface. My feet were bare and I was wearing blue jean shorts and a tank top with petite floral decoration. When the light blazed on I was stretched upward reaching the pliers to within a few centimeters of the offending fixture.

I should have known better, for my brother came near electrocution years ago in a machine shop. Improper ground is dangerous.

The current arced from the fixture to my implement and entered my body with a sizzle. I screamed as I instinctively jumped backward. The sparks and the shock terrified me.

Alex asked with a trembling waver, “Mom, are you alright?”

I looked at the blackened end of the pliers and then to the pale face of my sweet child, “Yes, I think so. That was an electrifying experience.”

Alex grinned, “Yeah Mom, scared me good. I thought you were going to fly for a second. Did you see the sparks?”

“Ah huh, and heard the sizzle pop too. I could have been dead. It hurt,” I replied.

“Let’s tell God thanks,” I said quietly and we prayed together.

After we fell silent, Alex told me, “Mom, I think that should be the last time you change a light bulb. I am telling Dad what happened when he gets home.”

I sighed, “Do you have to do that?”

“If you will tell him, I won’t say anything,” he bargained.

Therefore, I told my husband when he came home from work. He changed light bulbs from that day forward.

We all find this amusing now. It is one of the tales of my surprising ability to make accidents happen.

I met the primordial force: Electricity. I respect power now, and act in such ways that I do not provoke it.

April 13, 2000

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