Tag Archives: perspective

Crisis Moment in the Quest

March 29, 2020 ashleymcarmichael Leave a comment

I stared at my computer screen for 30 minutes yesterday willing some kind of creativity to flow out of me and into my novel.

Instead I got up and did the laundry.

I sat back down and stared for another 20 minutes–on and off while scrolling through social media. I prayed for the words to come…

And then I got up and dusted the furniture in the front room, rearranging to fit my new cabinet.

I sat back down and stared for another 10 minutes or so, then got up and broke in the yoga mat for a workout (something I really don’t enjoy) hoping that the endorphins would spark something.

You would think that school being closed, stay at home orders enacted and social isolation (thank you COVID-19) would give me the time I needed to work on my writing so I could actually get something done.

Instead, it has dried up a well that had just started flowing. It feels a little like life has been paused, which makes it difficult to find the motivation for things I *should* be doing. However, during this time I have learned a lot about myself and my writing that I didn’t quite understand before, but feel like I’m getting a handle on now (2 weeks down).

This is nothing new–going back to Campbell and the quest I started last month–all journeys must reach a crisis moment where the quester (anyone notice that quester is a part of sequestered? Is there a connection there? Not sure…think there should be…) feels defeated. That feels like an appropriate description for my creative juices during this time of uncertainty. And probably why until yesterday I hadn’t written a word on my novel (or blog, or even morning pages) even though I’ve had gobs and gobs of time.

I never realized how much inspiration and motivation I pulled into my writing just by being around humans–forget interacting with them, just being around them is often enough. I will go to Starbucks, or Panera and just sit for hours with my earbuds in–sometimes listening to music, but often listening to the life going on around me and it feeds my soul.

Two days ago I went with my roommate to pick up dinner we’d ordered and we drove past Panera–it was all closed up and the tables pushed to the side and completely deserted…and that hit me harder than a lot of other things during this time. It felt like a representation of my mind. Closed and cluttered with no real production happening.

Avoiding the purpose I know is mine.

What a depressing image. And it definitely felt a little like defeat.

However, as we all know for the quest to be successful, though, the quester (sequestered?) must rise above this crisis moment if they want to obtain the treasure they seek–in my case, a finished novel.

So I took a shower, put on some music, and just started typing. It wasn’t good, but I can go back and polish it later. The point is, I pushed through that defeated feeling–which is what it was, a feeling, not a reality–and got to 40,000 words yesterday.

Sometimes all we need is a little perspective shift to rise above the crises in our lives. That doesn’t mean everything will magically be better or OK, but it can lead to a more positive attitude when facing difficult and unforeseen circumstances, be it a widely spreading virus or kool-aid spilled on the hard drive that housed the only copy of your burgeoning novel (yes, that happened to me in 6th grade–still can’t talk about it…it’s just too raw!).

Life is never made unbearable by circumstances, but by lack of purpose and direction.
Viktor Frankl–Holocaust survivor

It’s not easy to choose positivity over the uncertainties, isolations, and hopelessness that life throws at us, but when we do, bad situations become temporary, and the end of the world becomes an inspiration to push forward–no matter what.

Want to read a little of what I wrote? Keep scrolling and then leave some feedback in the comments or on the FACEBOOK 🙂 Please note this is very RAW so I would love help in making it SHINE

EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER 20

“This is one of those times where I understand why people carried handkerchiefs, but quite frankly I’ve always found the practice a little disgusting, so if you want a tissue we can—“

“Don’t worry about it,” Andi let out a nervous laugh as she reached across the passenger’s seat to the glove box and pulled out a travel pack of tissue. “I think handkerchiefs are pretty gross too, but I keep prepared. It’s been a pretty emotional couple of years.”

“I’ll say,” Garrick sighed again, wishing he could rewind time and make the last year and half less stressful. Hell, if he could do that he would rewind it so that Andi and Greg never ended up together—though, that’s what Bryce had tried to do and it hadn’t turned out that well for their friendship. “This is a perfect Romans 8:28 kind of situation,” he said more to himself than to Andi.

“What?” She wrinkled her nose and studied him. Over the past year she’d done a lot of Bible reading, but her knowledge was severely limited in comparison to Garrick’s. She hadn’t grown up in church and Bible verses weren’t as imprinted for her as they were for him.

“Romans 8:28,” he said patiently. “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” He pushed back a lock of her hair, smoothing out the worry lines on her forehead. “Everything you’ve been through sucks, Andi. I can’t even begin to tell you how much it hurts me that I couldn’t protect you from all of it. I was just thinking about how if we could turn back time we could just change all of it, but that’s not how life works—and that’s kind of questioning God’s role in all of it, isn’t it?”

Andi pulled back. “You think God let all this happen to me on purpose?”

Garrick clicked his tongue, and turned those words over in his mind before responding. “Not exactly. God is in control over everything, right?”

She nodded slowly, but the frown deepened.

“But, because he gave us humans free will, our actions still have consequences, both good and bad. Our choices don’t limit his control or power or authority, which I think is why the verse reads the way it does—all things for together for good—not that everything is good, or perfect, because we live in a world filled with sin and bad things are going to happen. Even to beautiful souls,” he rubbed his thumb along her cheek again, never breaking eye contact. “So it’s not that I think God ‘let’ this happen to you, but He will take it and work it out for good and for His purpose, since you accepted Him as your savior. Do I think life will suddenly be filled with nothing but sunshine and rainbows? Of course not, but I do think the more we seek Him in this, the more evident His hand will become.”

“So,” she swallowed. “You think instead of wishing none of this ever happened we should ask God to show us how he’s going to work it for good?”

Garrick’s mouth twisted into a half smile and he nodded. “Something like that. I came to terms with that recently myself.”

“Lorelai?” Andi nodded even as she asked.

“Yeah,” Garrick picked up Andi’s hand from here it rested in her lap. He turned it over so her palm faced upward and traced the lines with his index finger. “You may think the Lord has forgotten you, that He is far from you, but remember Andrea Cartier, he has engraved you on the palms of his hands. Nothing this world can throw at you will thwart the plans he has for you.”

A shiver ran down his spine as the words he spoke raced across his own circumstance, and he nodded his understanding to the Lord speaking to him in this moment with the woman he desperately loved.

“Thank you,” Andi whispered. “I don’t know how you do it, but sometimes you know exactly what to say—“

“Wasn’t me,” Garrick shook his head. “I needed to hear it as much as you did, Andi. He knew,” he nodded to the sky above, looking up.

Andi followed his gaze.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and this time, Garrick knew she wasn’t speaking to him.

Learn it, The Artist's Way

Trials of the quest

February 9, 2020 ashleymcarmichael Leave a comment

Okay, so I’m channeling Joseph Campbell this week, but it is called the monomyth for a reason. Let’s face it, Campbell was one smart dude and so as my quest to renew creativity begins, I should have expected resistance–which on one level I did, I guess I just didn’t expect so much of the resistance to come from me. After all, I’m the one who decided to start the quest, why would I resist it?

Physical Trials

We all experience some physical trials on this earth. After all, our bodies are essentially dying the moment we are born (cheery, I know). One of my physical struggles has always been seasonal allergies and sinus migraines. I know that sounds super lame given that there are a lot of people battling much, much more. I’m not diminishing that in any way and can only pray I have half the strength of these individuals if I ever face that kind of physical trial.

My allergies have always been a pain–they come every year so you’d think I’d be prepared, but living in South Carolina–well seasons are incredibly fluid sometimes. Like last week, for example, we experienced temperatures upwards of 70 degrees so the trees started to bloom, and yes there was pollen everywhere…and it is February. By the end of the week, we were back in the 30s, so my body just completely rebelled. I haven’t really been able to breathe out of my nose for a week, and all that has settled in my chest and it’s just uncomfortable, which turns into exhausting so the things I can normally do become more of a chore and sometimes I just don’t–which in turn makes me feel like a slacker.

Despite this, I pushed myself to go on a walk earlier in the week when the weather was nice enough to do so. I LOVED IT. I actually really enjoy walking whenever I push myself to get out and do it, and it is as Cameron says in The Vein of Gold a walk in our souls is really for our souls. I did not meet her challenge to walk 20 minutes every day though. That is going to be for this coming week–even more challenging since I have meetings/social gatherings/obligations every night this week. It’s good, but it is definitely stretching me.

Mental Trials

I get into my own head way too often. Sure, social anxiety has become a norm for me. Once I drove all the way to a social gathering where I didn’t know anyone and I was determined to go make new friends. I walked up to the door and my heart raced so bad I found it hard to breathe. I turned around and left. Ridiculous, I know. I’m not sure what it is about my make up that makes me do stupid things like that, but I literally have to battle with myself to go to social events.

I know, I’ve heard it before, but Ashley, you are a teacher. Isn’t that a constant social event. Quite frankly, no it isn’t. But that might be part of the problem. I’m by nature an introvert and I spend all day with people and it’s great. I love my students and most days I love my job. I work with some of the greatest people I’ve ever met and I love them! But when I go home, going back out in the world is hard. Some people call it recharge time, but I really shouldn’t need that much recharge time.

Sometimes I will lose this battle and stay home when I should go hang out with people–people I know and love. As a result, it makes them think I don’t want to hang out with them, which isn’t true–I just need a push. Someone to tell me I’m wanted there and that they will help me, make me feel comfortable, and like it is less of a chore. Only people really close to me know that they need to push a little harder to get me out–most people just shrug and assume that I’m happy.

This is my mental trial, and I’m working through that this week too–especially as I’m trying to revive my creativity. Writing conversation and situation requires experience.

Pushing myself is hard.

Emotional Trials

With the physical and mental trials, there are always emotional ones too–for me it typically results in bottled up feelings that explode in situations where an explosion really doesn’t make sense. I’ve been doing a pretty good job at keeping the mood journal up and that really helps me to process through, but this week pushed me a lot.

I’m going to my first writer’s group meeting in several years this week. I’m excited and nervous (talk about emotional trials). While I know this is just a trial meeting for me to observe and decide if it is a good fit, it still makes me feel a little nervous–so say a little prayer for me on Tuesday!

End Results

The GOOD news about all these trials and internal battles, I was able to channel it into a lot of good writing this weekend. I wrote at least 6,000 words yesterday and the result is 34,000 words written and mostly polished on my novel that has just been gathering dust for going on 2 years now. My new push is bringing some of that drive and passion back, but it hasn’t been easy. But really, when is anything worth doing easy?

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AUTHENTIC :: LEAH

January 20, 2019 ashleymcarmichael Leave a comment

So, the title of this series is authentic, and I’m just going to get real here for a minute, so bear with me.

I have spent the vast majority of my life feeling as though I am second best—and compensating for that by trying to be perfect thereby proving that I am, actually, the best. But then when anyone praises me, or gives me a compliment, I have a hard time accepting it as true because I never actually feel like I am good enough.

And it is exhausting.

As this battle rages inside of me, I hear the simple truths of the father—you are enough, I love you through your flaws—and I know that perfectionism is its own sin, still the battle rages on.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that I’m hopeless. I’m just saying that I am human and this is the battle I fight against my sin nature. Some days I trust in Him enough for it to quiet…and some days I don’t. Hey, I said I was going to be real here.

I get the feeling that Leah probably felt a lot of the same struggle, only she had some pretty tangible proof that the world really did see her as second best. At least when compared to her sister.

Behold, it was Leah

I have lots of feelings about Jacob (Leah’s future husband), but the strongest is that he was an incredibly flawed man—who God still made the forefather of his great nation. So my drive to be perfect, clearly isn’t the way to God’s heart. It might actually be more of a separate than some of these blatant sins, just because of the pride issues that accompany it—but let’s set that philosophy aside for the moment and focus in on Leah.

At the start of the narrative, Jacob has run away from a pretty sticky situation at home. He and his mom had manipulated Jacob’s father into bestowing his deathbed blessing on him rather than on Esau, who traditionally should have been the recipient as the firstborn. Given that Jacob had already manipulated his older brother out of his birthright, this second backstabbing was a little too much for Esau—and so Jacob fled his brother’s wrath and made is way to his mon’s brother, Laban, who is not exactly the most honest of individuals either (go back and look at the Rebekah post if you want some more juicy details on that family dynamic). When he arrives, he’s asking around about his family when Rachel makes an appearance—seeming, in a lot of ways, similar to the way in which his mother appeared before the servant and became the wife of his father, as story I am sure that he grew up hearing being so close to his mother and everything. So it really isn’t much of a surprise when he waters her sheep, as his mother watered the camels so many decades before.

Jacob was a pretty emotional guy, so it’s also not super surprising that he was all like, I wanna marry that girl—after all, he’s remembering his mother’s own love story. The major difference here though lies in the fact that in the month that he stayed with his uncle Labon there is absolutely no mention of Jacob asking God to be a part of his decision making process! Jacob is not thinking with his head or his spirit. Genesis 29: 16-17 tells us that Labon had two daughters: Leah (the elder daughter, who had weak eyes) and Rachel (who was lovely in form and beautiful). I do not believe this means that Leah was ugly, just that her eyes were not bright, maybe she would even have, in modern times, had needed corrective lenses so maybe she squinted a lot. What it does mean, is that Jacob saw her as second best. He fell in love (boy how I hate that terminology…still it works here) with Rachel’s outward appearance. I have a hard time believing he really got to know her. That’s just not how ancient cultures typically worked. He saw her. He wanted her. He struck a deal. Not having anything to offer his uncle for Rachel’s hand, he says he’ll work for 7 years—enough time to really put together some of his own property so he will be able to care for her.

Unfortunately, Laban was just as manipulative as Jacob and after the 7 years was up, he saw an opportunity. Not only to ‘get rid’ of his cumbersome older daughter, but to trap Jacob into working for him (cheap labor) for another 7 years. So, he sent Leah to the wedding bed (which isn’t so weird since she would have been heavily veiled and similar in form to her sister).

The next morning: there was Leah.

Always Second Best

Now, Leah had to know and been privy to the plan of her father, but I sincerely doubt she had much choice. I do wonder what she felt in that moment when she consummated a marriage that was built on a lie. Was she in love with Jacob? Was she doing her duty to her father? What went through her mind as she slept with this man who was so clearly in love with her sister? While we will never know, but we do know that in Genesis 29:31, the Lord saw that Leah was not loved. He enabled a quick pregnancy for Leah and kept Rachel barren, which also makes me question Rachel’s heart and character. Yes, Leah was a part of the deception—and the situation was complicated and terrible, but we have a choice in how we treat others in spite of the circumstances. I suspect that Rachel had always treated her sister with a kind of contempt, and so here she is taught a lesson through.

Leah truly believe that her husband would come to love her as son after son is born. First Reuben, then Simeon and Levi…always hoping for that kind of love she has always craved. And then something happened in Leah’s heart. It’s hard to say exactly what—but when she had Judah, she stopped caring about her husband’s love and embraced the love of the Lord, the one—she realized—who had always loved her unconditonally! The only one whose love she really ever needed.

I love that verse, Genesis 29: 35, when she says she will stop seeking approval of man and start praising the Lord. Sometimes the world is cruel and unfair. We seek approval. We seek love. We seek acceptance. We seek companionship. All these things we chase after every day…are found when we stop and praise the Lord. And that is beautiful, if we are willing to embrace it.

Embracing Truth

Lean and Rachel engage in quite the baby-making competition, which is only appropriate given the life that Jacob carved out for himself. His own sibiling rivalry landed him in the position where he would always have to deal with sibling rilvary, first in his wives, then with his sons. Oddly, though, through it all Jacob does not rely on the wisdom of God. Or, I guess, that’s not odd at all. When we don’t make God the center of our decision making and we rely on our own judgments, competitions, and desires, we’re bound to enter into conflicts that become complicated and sometimes very painful.

What is most striking is that even though Jacob never sees her value, God does. In 1 Samuel 16:7, we are told that mann looks at outward appearance, but God looks at the heart. That is never more true than in the case of Rachel and Leah—Rachel is the pretty one, the loved one, but she is also the petty and the devious one. Ergo, God chooses Leah’s child, Judah, to be the line to the greatest kings… David…Solomon…and Jesus.

We seek approval. We seek love. We seek acceptance. We seek companionship. All these things we chase after every day…are found when we stop and praise the Lord.

And in that, I feel hope.

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A Practice in Perspective

April 2, 2014 ashleymcarmichael Leave a comment

I love looking at things from different points of view, which is probably why my students have multiple exercises each year dealing with point of view and perspective. I fully believe that putting yourself in someone else’s shoes can often help solve even the most complex of problems.

Not that it always works–otherwise I’d have found the solution for how to achieve world peace–but it’s certainly a step in the right direction.

One of my college writing classes had us do something with perspective that I’ve been playing with a little this week, mostly because I can. We wrote a story from one point of view with at least two characters and then we switched the point of view around so that we could explore characterization in depth. This was my original piece told from Veruna’s perspective:

“The exact moment that the fall of mankind’s dominance occurred remains a mystery to the modern world. The inconceivable phenomenon evolved slowly so that the change became almost natural and nigh undetectable as it slithered its way into existence. One fact and one fact alone remains clear: change has happened. Denial is still prevalent among the vast majority of the fallen race, but I, brilliant mastermind that I am, have artfully recorded my observations and submitted to the inevitable, knowing full well that our days of power have come to an end.

The deviant forms have come to every neighborhood and city, commanding our utmost attention and care. We have no choice but to submit to their demands and live as comfortably as possible within our cloistered confines.

My theory and definitive conclusion was born out of experience and experience’s name is Jennis.

For years I determined to study The Change as an observant outsider. My goal was to remain detached but I soon learned that it was an impossible task for as a human there is and was little I could do to resist The Change I studied. Jennis arrived to assume control of my daily living and pursue the growing domination of his species. He lords over me with reckless abandon and pursues the life of continual comfort. These creatures are far more advanced than humans who must first school themselves to acquire knowledge that is innate for ones so mighty.

Jennis understands the way the world works and has since birth, leaving massive amounts of time that are wasted on humans.

My personal research shows the new dominations require the ex-dominate species to follow certain rules or else co-existence is impossible and the stronger breed will be the survivor—“

“Veruna, what are you babbling about?” the voice interrupted my speech and I looked up in surprise.

I had been working on my speech for days. The scientific community had a right to know that my discoveries were for real. They needed to know that the end of the world was coming. They needed to know.

“Veruna?” she asked again. I looked over and saw Serena staring at me. Her green eyes had that clouded look in them like the atmosphere in the moments before a hurricane unleashes its powerful destruction. That look immediately told me she was concerned about something I’d done, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why she was looking at me like that.

I tried to clear my mind. What had we been talking about before? Perhaps if I just asked her…

“What’s wrong, Serena?”

I had definite ideas for where I wanted these characters to go and what I wanted this interaction to become. It was interesting to hear the theories of my class, which I kept in mind as I rewrote the piece from Serena’s point of view trying to be clearer about where I wanted to the story to go:

“The exact moment that the fall of mankind’s dominance occurred remains a mystery to the modern world. The inconceivable phenomenon evolved slowly so that the change became almost natural and nigh undetectable as it slithered its way into existence. One fact and one fact alone remains clear: change has happened. Denial is still prevalent among the vast majority of the fallen race, but I, brilliant mastermind that I am, have artfully recorded my observations and submitted to the inevitable, knowing full well that our days of power have come to an end.

My theory and definitive conclusion was born out of experience and experience’s name is Jennis.

For years I determined to study The Change as an observant outsider. My goal was to remain detached but I soon learned that it was an impossible task for as a human there is and was little I could do to resist The Change I studied. Jennis arrived to assume control of my daily living and pursue the growing domination of—“

“Veruna, what are you babbling about?” I interrupted my friend with the loving care that anyone might have in the situation. Veruna had been talking to herself for a while. That much I could tell. Or maybe she was talking to someone else. I couldn’t be sure. Everything with Veruna is a little unclear to me.

She looked up, but said nothing to me. The blank stare was a bit disconcerting so I tried her name again. Sometimes that worked. “Veruna?”

“Hmm?” the hum was deep and it went straight to my soul with its undertone reverberations of someone who wasn’t quite sure where she was or why she was doing something. Her bright sea green eyes were vitric, common signs when the mind had become as cryptic as hieroglyphics in the maze of pyramids in the Valley of the Kings.

“What are you doing in here?” I asked again. Redundancy dismantles walls.

“Practicing my speech,” she murmured. The wall was still intact, but she was responding.

“What speech, Veruna?”

I stepped over and around the clutter of books, old term papers, clothes from previous days’ outfits and mismatched shoes. It looked like what I imagined her mind resembled.

“My speech. For the convention next week. I’m revealing my findings about Jennis finally. I think it is time.”

I tried to think of something to say. Something that didn’t make it sound like I thought she was crazy, but I was coming up blank.

I realized that my characterization was much clearer the second go round as I shifted perspectives. The first selection was too cryptic. I thought that would be good, to keep the mystery alive, but my perception was colored by my own sense of where the story was headed and I was blinded by foreknowledge. By shifting the point of view, I made it clearer to my readers what was going on in the scene. Now, do I think this is the best scene I’ve written. No, not really. I think it’s still a little unclear and wordy. I invite your comments and criticism.

Who is Serena to you? Who is Veruna? What do these interactions tell you? And most importantly, do you agree with the idea that shifting perspective can be a useful tool to writing and life?

Phoenix From Ash, llc.