Jayne is a writer. On her free time she likes to be with her family hiking outdoors and traveling. New England is her home and place of birth. When asked what she wants to teach the world she replied, "Don't stop searching. Too many times, in my old life, I put my search aside for more 'important matters.' I didn't realize the thing I was searching for held what was most important; my soul purpose." Jayne works daily improving her craft and at times can get down on herself, but her favorite morning mantra is "It's a new day." and that's what she strives to start with.
Alright so I’m a writer. My dream is to write, sell books, maybe run some workshops, and some mentoring. I need constant reminders that anything else is a hobby or an interest or a challenge I’d like to face and not my calling.
So I was thinking and visualizing myself in the future. I was thinking about who I am and who I want to be, I saw myself writing at a table surrounded by huge scrolls. Huge. Like from the ceiling to the floor. When I saw this image, I felt peace, solitude, and familiarity. I find our minds fascinating and I was inspired to see myself writing while also slightly disappointed by not being surrounded by piles of money.
But it got me thinking about how writers were treated much differently in ancient Egypt. They were called scribes back then and did hieroglyphs. So of course I had to do some looking into the scribe life. Here’s a few tidbits I found on Historytoday.com:
“The text known as the Satire of the Trades dates to the Middle Kingdom, the Golden Age of Egyptian literature, between 2025 and 1700 BC. It belongs to a genre known as ‘Wisdom Texts’, supposed collections of the experiences of learned and influential men to be shared with following generations as advice on behaviour, deportment and career advancement. In the Ramesside era (1300-1075 BC), the Satire of the Trades was one of the texts most frequently copied by student scribes. It compares a scribe’s work with that of other trades and crafts in an attempt to persuade the student that education will make him better off than anyone else. The introduction, supposedly written by a father for his son, reads:
I have seen many beatings – set your heart on books! I have watched those conscripted for labour – there is nothing better than books! It [scribedom] is the greatest of all callings, there is none like it in all the land.
Fear is such a sneaky f*ck. Like it gets so ingrained into your subconscious that you don’t even acknowledge the blocks fear creates. Perfectionism is a symptom of fear but even if you worked through that there’s even deeper fears dictating our lives.
Today in a Manifesting Master Class, I realized something I always do is push things for the future when things get better or things are more in place. I didn’t realize this was a false belief. I didn’t realize good things could happen to me right now.
While browsing around for some poetry that spoke on fear, I found this beauty by Anisha Joseph that I love.
Fun fact you may not have heard about Martin Luther King Jr from History.com
King’s Birth Name Was Michael, Not Martin
King was born Michael King Jr. on January 15, 1929. In 1934, however, his father, a pastor at Atlanta’s Ebenezer Baptist Church, traveled to Germany and became inspired by the Protestant Reformation leader Martin Luther. As a result, King Sr. changed his own name as well as that of his five-year-old son.
In 8th grade, I was a fan of Martin Luther and it inspired me how he reformed the church. I wrote a paper on him and was actually motivated to write it, which was rare. It makes me wonder, though what’s in a name? Martin Luther King Jr reformed an entire nation just as the man he was named after. I wonder if things would be the same if Martin Luther King Sr had never changed his and his son’s name.
My name means helper of mankind. I wonder if that will have anything to do with my legacy? I suppose I’d have to make that my legacy if that’s what I wanted. I know Martin Luther King Jr didn’t just happen across his legacy. He worked hard everyday leading, organizing, and sacrificing his own safety to make change. We can’t give all the credit of his hard work to his name, can we?
Either way, I’m forever grateful for the sacrifices that Martin Luther King Jr and his family made to support the black community.
I’d like more snow. I don’t like driving in it but I like to look at it. It’s so pretty and I like how everything seems quieter after it snows. (Global warming is no fun at all.) In honor of snow days here’s a poem from Robert Frost
There’s so much information online, we are teaching each other everything we can. And then we’re offering more in-depth lessons for a cost. I appreciate that. We get to pick our teachers. You know I’d appreciate if we could choose from professors from all over to create our degrees. It’d be awesome if we could have access to Ivey league professors and local professors that we know are amazing from word of mouth. It could be overwhelming having so many options for professors but I think it would be pretty cool. I don’t know maybe it would be too much and that’s why they created colleges and universities in the first place. But I still think it’d be cool if we could choose professors from any college especially now that we’re virtual and teaching ourselves in the first place.
I’m feeling lazy today. I was on mom duty, and I don’t like to start projects unless I know I’m going to be able to work on them without being interrupted. So I didn’t get much done.
Fortunately, I have had time to think about my novel and the underground community that’s a big part of the plot. I tend to lean light and love when it comes to creating. The trouble comes when it’s time to edit and develop a nice juicy plot. We want some conflict, everything and everyone can’t turn out perfect and full of love and good choices. So right now I’m trying to decide what direction my underground community is going to go. Are they going to be a good group of people with a dirty little secret? or Are they gunna be bad people with an innocent veneer? I don’t know why the moral integrity of this community is so hard for me to decide on. Normally, I make a choice and go with it and if it doesn’t work I start over. I guess a lot of me wants the underground community to be upright and resemble the good side of humanity.
My head is killing me. It started hurting around 11 and it stopped for a bit while I was in the shower in the dark but then came back. One of my long long time ago exboyfriends taught me about a pressure point between our pointer and thumb and that’s what helped for the tiny bit of time that I was relieved. Pressure points are so interesting to me. They kinda remind me of Rhizomes, Here’s a quick definition of what a rhizome is from Britannica.com
rhizome, also called creeping rootstalk, horizontal underground plantstem capable of producing the shoot and root systems of a new plant. Rhizomes are used to store starches and proteins and enable plants to perennate (survive an annual unfavourable season) underground. In addition, those modified stems allow the parent plant to propagate vegetatively (asexually), and some plants, such as poplars and various bamboos, rely heavily on rhizomes for that purpose. In plants such as water lilies and many ferns, the rhizome is the only stem of the plant. In such cases, only the leaves and flowers are readily visible. Notably, the rhizomes of some species—including ginger, turmeric, and lotus—are edible and valued for their culinary applications.
And here’s the definition or nerve from google:
a whitish fiber or bundle of fibers that transmits impulses of sensation to the brain or spinal cord, and impulses from these to the muscles and organs.
Now I’m the type of person to make connections where there are none but for some reason Nerves and Rhizomes seem to function similarly besides the whole reproduction part. Unless we’re talking about cells, then that might work. We could go real far and throw in the frequency of our vibrations but I think that’s going too far. So let’s reel it back in. Rhizomes are under ground. Our Nerves are under the skin. Rhizomes branch out under ground. Nerves branch out throughout the body. Nerves help us with survival. The roots of a Rhizome help them survive. If you lose a nerve you won’t die. If a Rhizome loses a root it won’t die.
I’m so interested in these Float tanks they have out there these days. They’ve been around for a while but they are more accessible now. I want to try them out. I hear some people have pretty cool experiences. I just know, I love baths. and I love when the lights are out while I’m in the bath and I love dunking my head under when the lights are out. So I think I’ll really enjoy one of these Float Tanks.
With all the things we are bombarded with these days, it seems like this should be a normal thing like going to get your nails done or going to the gym. There’s always technology and ads and some event I have to get to or a new lesson I want to listen to. But I don’t decompress nearly as often as I go out in search of stimulation.
Now that I’m writing this, I realize I really do need to focus more on decompressing from it all. My goal for this year is to go floating at least once. That’s my 2022 goal, to decompress more often and to go floating at least once. Ok now let’s see if I can make it happen.
Today I stayed home with my little one and worked on my novel. I’m working on the protagonist community and their belief system. I think developing my protagonist more will help me with details in the rest of the story. Especially since the protagonist is an entire community rather than just one individual.
I was pretty tired with a headache today but my oldest and I managed to get the grocery shopping done and clean out the fridge. I’m surprised I got anything done today. My head was killing me all day. It’s surprising to me that I painted with my youngest, wrote, grocery shopped, and cleaned out the fridge.
Today was my first day back to the gym since I got sick. It felt nice to be there. I was more mindful of my mask because I don’t want to get anyone else sick but besides that, it was nice. I took it easy. I didn’t wanna over do it because I want to want to go back. There’s a writer who stops his daily writing for the day at a point in his story where he knows what’s going to happen next. That’s how I workout. I can still push a little harder but I’ll step away so I’m not laid out the next day. I’m trying to create daily healthy habits when it comes to the gym. Right now it’s less about losing weight for me. I know I can slim down and gain muscle because I did it easy when I wasn’t on mom duty. So once my little one is back in school and more independent bam I’m already ready for gym mode a few times a week because I been doing it.
As for my writing. It’s already a daily habit. There’s more at stake when it comes to writing for me because it’s my life, my future, and my calling. So missing writing days has a huge negative effect on my life. It’s not worth missing a day. Working out for me is an important healthy habit but it’s more like something I enjoy doing. It’s less of a daily habit. 3-4x a week is good.
So it was a good gym day and I’m happy to be back at it.