Ephemeral Epiphanies

Thoughts on “My Phone-Phobia Story”


The Seed:

My Phone-Phobia Story” from

A Storied Career: Kathy Hansen’s Blog to explore traditional and postmodern forms/uses of storytelling

The Epiphany:

Your ultimate conclusion:

“Do what you love. Don’t do what you hate.”

The thought came to me that there have been many occasions when I wished I would have said something differently; not said anything at all; or shouted something from the top of my lungs (vs. holding back at the moment & later turning it inward).
Maybe (for me), it is somehow connected to impulse control? Then comes in that whole ‘tendency to apologize’ between changes in train-of-thought or topic-of-conversation, when I am free-speaking. (It’s funny how I don’t even realize it if I drop a habitual “Sorry” when I’m talking, yet when I hear the word spoken by someone else, especially someone I don’t know very well, I often find myself judging them as weak & insecure. Hmmm…straw in my sister’s eye; rafter in mine?
It has likewise been brought to my attention (often enough to be noteworthy) that, vocally, my responses can be abrupt and tinged with tones of irritation; that my words are easily interpreted as abrasive & rude. Eureka! Now I know what they mean: I sound like The Queen Bitch!
I have discovered the hard way, through acting in administrative roles, that I struggle terribly—and generally fail—to communicate, in a clear & precise manner, what it is that I want or need. I’ve studied works like Dale Carnegie’s classic principles* from How to Win Friends & Influence People and Steven Covey’s The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. Plus some less known, but personal favorites like: Leading From the Front by Marie Captains Angie Morgan and Courtney Lynch.
I think writing is The Bomb because I get unlimited “do overs.” On the flip side, if writing is an art, the most difficult thing knowing when I am finished. Much like a painting, I can keep going back in & touching it up until I turn it into a murky muddy mess. Hence, destroying the original purity of Spirit from which it came.
Human beings think at speeds of something like (average) 500 to (genius)1000 words per minute; speak (audiobook) 150 to (debate team champion) 500wpm; comprehend (listening or reading) 250-300wpm; and type (copy or dictation) 80-200 wpm.Yet, handwriting (from copied to memorized) comes to a grinding halt at 20-30wpm!


I just got back from a tangent on looking for a statistic about how fast a professional writer writes, or should write, or needs to be able to write. Considering the likes of Anne Rice & Michael Crichton vs. Susanna Clarke (who took ten years to write her first novel, an award winning & New York Times Bestseller), what I have concluded is:

“It depends.”

…but boy, oh boy, did I open a whole new Pandora’s Box on what I just learned is termed the writing process.

(Which I know you, Kathy, already know.)

My point?

When I write, I have to slow down my mind, I have to discern, learn, consider, and reconsider. I have found clarity on nearly every problem I’ve ever had, once I had decided to write about it. When I write, I have access to all the infinite possibilities in the universe; time falls away along with all the day-to-day trappings of this earthly realm.
…and here lies the evidence of exactly that.
I’ve gone on way too long.
I’m done.
* http://www.csus.edu/indiv/l/luenemannu/pdf/CommunicationPrinciples.pdf
Ephemeral Epiphanies

Good Ol’ Fido (May he rest in peace.)

The Seed:

My mother said to me:

“I remember how you have stressed the importance of having spiritual practice in your life. It has become my lifeline.”

The Epiphany:

All it takes is a couple of days of neglecting “my spiritual practice,” and I become subtly & progressively nuttier, until I say, “What the hell is wrong with me?”

Then I realize that I haven’t stopped to acknowledge the grace and blessings of my Higher-Power, and my gratitude for it. If I catch myself in time, all I have to do is go back to the basics & keep it simple. The cool thing is, the more I keep working at making “my spiritual practice” a daily habit, I am able to recognize the symptoms of spiritual famine more quickly & easily. Wait too long though, and I become like my good ol’ dog Fido (Basset Hound*):

Nose to the ground, locked on to a scent, going and going, consumed in the scent. When the scent trail ends, I stop and look around, as if waking from a dream. But alas, it is too late. I don’t know where I am or how I got there. I am lost. My only hope is my Dog Tag (…Holy Spirit?), and that someone will Stop to read it (…reconnect me to The Source? …be The Good Samaritan? …e.g. something someone says. something I read), and help me find my way back home.

Yes. Somehow, someway, sooner or later, I always do.

The following is a true story: Adrian’s father, Pedro, was dog-sitting our Fido while we went to visit my family in PA. Maybe Fido, bewildered in this new and unfamiliar surrounding was trying to find his way home, or maybe he just picked up the scent of something interesting. Either way, he somehow managed to slip out through the fence surrounding Pedro’s property.

When we returned from our trip and learned of Fido’s disappearance, I was heart broken. They say the last thing we let go of is hope (I like to call it FAITH). So with that last bit that I was hanging on to, I posted Fido’s picture and an offer of a small $100 reward all around the neighborhood. (Though no amount of dollars could ever measure the value of the gentle joyful heart of Fido, it was the very most we had at that time.) Days turned into weeks, and then the phone rang. Fido was returned to us, and all was right in the world again.

Unbelievably, surrounding this true story lies anther, larger one, perhaps even more amazing, of which I am now reminded: “Daphne.” I’ll think I’ll save it to post another day.

*The ACK cautions: “New [Basset Hound] owners should be prepared for a dog that actively follows scent while outside or on walks.” http://www.akc.org/breeds/basset_hound/