Lauren Gaskill

Some things never grow old. Like singing a favorite song while driving with the windows down; watching spring’s first flowers bloom; or taking a bite of any sweet dessert. As John Keat’s once wrote: “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.”

If we believe we were beautifully and wonderfully made, why, then, as we grow older on the outside, do we let time steal our joy? As if age were something to extinguish joy — as if wrinkles and sagging skin were something to hide away?

Last week, I grabbed lunch with my gramma, who had received a hair cut earlier that day. Her hair looked fantastic, but it’s not what I love most about her. You see, my gramma is beautiful for many reasons; what captivates me most is her spirit, the way she lights up when she smiles, and the stories we share. Her spirit is full of so much joy, and for that she is eternally beautiful.

 

The same is true for all of us, regardless of age, appearance, or social class.
An uplifting, remarkable spirit is a joy to be surrounded by forever.

It’s guaranteed that our bodies will change over time, but our spirits will only grow old if we let them.Read More

This poem came out of a dinner I had last night with two former roommates. As we reminisced over tacos, I realized that it had been an entire year since I’d spoken to one of them. She was a wonderful roommate, and I consider her a great friend, but I guess you could say time got the best of us — caught up in the daily grind, our relationship slipped through the cracks.

It’s amazing how that happens, and, oftentimes by mistake. When our minds become fixated on so many things, it’s so easy to lose sight of the people we come in contact with along the way. If we’re not careful, in time our projects will take the place of our relationships. But only if we let them … In the end, we get to choose how we spend our time.

I’m calling this poem “Refocus:” something I hope to do over the next several months of summer. I don’t want to keep saying “I’m too busy” to make time for people. I’m sick of feeling like my days are stuck in a never-ending system of turbulence. That’s one of the reasons why I haven’t been blogging as much recently, because time is valuable. My goal is to start investing more of my time into people instead of stuff.

How we spend our time says a lot about who we are.

Refocus //

The years, they trickle by
like grains of sand through the hourglass of time
And our feet, they slide in the sand
We can’t seem to get a grip, or take a stand
There’s always “too much to do,” yet so much to say
And all the while, we’ve stopped giving God the time of day
What will it take for us to shake this broken record system
Before the curse of the clock claims another generation
No more living in the future, it only leads us astray
Quit banking on tomorrow, because all we have is today.

Question: What about you? Where is your focus?

 

This post first appeared on my memoir-writing group’s website here. We have two weeks left in this process and are in the final stages of editing!

“You need to write this better.” — A note from Brad’s final edits for my memoir.

At first read, I rolled my eyes and thought to myself, Write better? Oh c’mon, it’s good enough! Moments later, conviction settled in. Deep down I knew that section wasn’t my best writing, and yet, part of me was OK with just giving up on it. However, I also knew that it would be an injustice not to go back and revisit it; not just to myself but to the readers.

We miss the point if we fail to put the right amount of effort into our work.

Growing up, as a 10-year competitive swimmer, I never stepped up on the block without being ready to give my 110 percent. Writing should be no different. As writers and editors, we should come to the keyboard or paper with an attentive mind and determined hands, ready to give the words our everything.

To settle for anything less is to compromise the misson: to tell the best story that you possibly can.

So don’t settle; keep writing. Even if you aren’t a writer, this is for you, too. Keep giving your all, that’s all you can do.

It’s amazing how you can know someone for your entire life, and yet know so little about them.

Take for instance, your parents (GASP!). I’ll use my dad as an example.

Growing up, I’ll be honest, I wasn’t that interested in getting to know my parents as people. After all … they were my parents, and that was that. It was so easy to cast judgement on them without listening to what they had to say.

But things have changed. Especially now that I am writing a memoir, for the first time, I’m interested in their past: the trials they’ve faced; the heartaches they’ve suffered; the joys they’ve experienced.

And so, this weekend while I was home for Easter, I asked my dad to start from the beginning.

Usually I’m great at interrupting him when he speaks, but this time I just listened to what he had to say.

For about two hours I soaked in the stories of my dad’s past. I watched his face grow solemn as he talked about his mom’s death. I watched a smile creep across his face as he recounted memories of putting a tractor back together. I watched his eyes fill with tears as he spoke about some of the hardest moments of his life. And as I listened, I started to understand my dad more and more. Read More