Power of Music

October 15, 2017

Power of Music

Sometimes music is just the perfect thing to lift you up.  Today, I needed an energetic soundtrack for work.

I love how God seems to know exactly what to play and in what order.  It never matters what station: it’s always the right playlist!

So, my radio started with “That’s How You Change The World” by Newsboys.  (Absolutely perfect!   Skyrocket volume up, windows down!  I’m sure anyone outside on my road wondered if I was deaf.  My Daddy taught me to enjoy music by feeling it like a bass drum is your heartbeat.  Oh, I love that song too! Beckah Shae does it… But it wasn’t in the mix today.)

Just as that one is finished, I crawled to a halt at a red light and “The River” by Jordan Feliz started.   (Now in the middle of traffic, my hands stay on the wheel but my head is bobbing like a doggy on a dashboard so I’m pretty sure people think I’m crazy – but that’s perfectly fine for them to see me as I really am.)

This wonderful selection was finished with Britt Nicole’s “Amazing Life” (This one caused the volume to increase another notch) and “I Feel So Alive” by Capital Kings.  (Halfway through I had to turn this down to a manageable super-sensitive-ears-person-enjoying-music volume so I wouldn’t blow away my passenger.)

The power of music is to energize and refresh.  I love worship songs – I love songs I can make motions and signs to because that feels like dancing.  I imagine the music entering my body, refilling me with some kind of electron fuel, and exiting as a broad grin and my attempt at singing along. (At least, that’s what happens in a car… when my feet are free to dance?  “Shackles” by Mandisa; let the song do the talking!)

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

 

Slices of Stories

August 16, 2017

Slices of Stories

Have you ever wondered about the stories of people you barely touch?  I do. Each time I see a person or group of people my brain asks that question and sometimes I theorize about the answer.

A biker in full regalia changing a tire on the sidewalk, a child standing in a full school bus with both arms protruding from the open window, a pair of women talking with their hands in the car next to you at the traffic light, a tall, thin girl crossing a 6 lane roadway with a drink in her hand; what are their stories?

These were all people I passed just on a twelve-minute ride this morning.  All bits of five full vibrant life stories and I eavesdropped on a few seconds of each.

Consider now: I’m at a park bench.  It’s early morning, school busses transporting children are still flying by the three roads that surround the park.  A mother and her toddler enter the park, they are the only ones besides me.  He laughs and runs free.  Mother checks out the surroundings from behind dark sunglasses – the same thing I do when I enter new surroundings.  Mother pushes him on the toddler swing as he smiles and points out squirrels and birds in the overhanging trees.

My mind asks me; what is their story?  I can describe them in detail.  I observe tiny things like how many keys dangle from her keyclip over her back right pocket, he is wearing the easy-slip-on canvas shoes I love (even in navy blue, my favorite color), her blonde hair is darkening at the base (maybe she dyed it blonde about six months ago or it’s summer-kissed) and twisted up in a becoming bun atop her head (It could be called a “messy bun” but it looks good on her), he has a cowlick (maybe he took a nap in the carseat).

It sounds weird, doesn’t it?  This is the overworking mind of a writer.  I only glanced at them twice, once when they entered and once when he squealed at a bird or squirrel, yet I imagine an entire storyline connected to them just from those glances.  Odd.  I’m probably wrong on all counts.  My mind has been doing this as far back as I can remember.  I see people and write sketches about them.  Many of these character sketches based on a 2-second glance have become bit parts in various stories.  I trained myself not to believe my assumptions and imaginative storylines about the people I meet. (That doesn’t mean my brain doesn’t still analyze and make storylines!) I allow people to fill in their own story as I get to know them.  I had to teach myself not to judge others by what my perceptions of them are.  As I learned more about people, took more psychology classes, watched lives unfold, and lived my own life, my assumptions came truer to reality; but I still don’t judge others by them.

It does help me get inspiration for story characters, though.  So, that’s just a glimpse into the mind of a writer.

I wonder what goes through the minds of the mother and toddler as they catch a glimpse of this woman sitting cross-legged on a huge picnic table by herself with keys, business cards, a banana peel, and a phone lying in front of her and tapping away like a diesel locomotive on a not-so-silent laptop keyboard.  What do they perceive of their observation of a slice of my life’s story?

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

 

Doing the Boogie

August 6, 2017

Doing the Boogie

Wild edge of tropical storm winds and the distant threat of rain do not deter my kids (or me) from the ocean!  So with a scrap of time before dusk, despite the rain (we’re going to get wet anyway) we were the one crazy group playing on the seashore.  There were three or four surfers and a couple in bathing caps with frog flippers who would walk way north of us, swim out, and less than ten minutes later be south of the pier!  I pointed them out several times as an example of the strength of the ocean.

We like to stand in the edge about ankle deep and let the ocean yank the sand around us, bury our feet and ankles, and giggle at how far we move.  The bigger girls get about knee-deep and toss themselves into the breaking surf.  It’s fun, sandy, and exhilarating.  Jaquline, Jillian, and Lucas divided their time between building wet sand forts, watching the rain wash the shells into the wave’s path, and “doing the boogie.”  According to Jillian, this is lying on a boogie board in the sand and waiting for the wave to pick you up and swirl you around for a few seconds while you scream.

We get to play until the first lightning bolt shows up or when it gets close to dusk.  Everyone watches for lightning.  Three other kids joined our group and they spread out like squealing smidgens jumping into the tumultuous white water.  We always talk about the ferocious power of the water on days like this.  One of the girls inevitably drones “see the power of water” in a deep dragon voice.  They create obstacles for it out of shells and sand.  They watch the waves rip entire mountains of sand like a hungry vacuum and suck it out to sea.  They are doing construction near where we play so even bits of rock are grabbed and siphoned out to sea.

Rebeccah says the ocean reminds her of God’s power.  It’s vast, almost everywhere.  Over 70% of the Earth’s surface is covered in water.  It can be calm and friendly and is the safe harbor for thousands of creatures.  It can be rough and destructive – nothing can stand in its way.  But after the destruction, the beach is always better.  Cleaner.  Smoother.  She says it reminds her of how when we surrender our mess to God, He demolishes it and restores something better than what was before.

I love that thought.  The ocean always astounds me.  I respect its power and love its beauty.

Lucas sees fun.  That is all.  He sees “doing the boogie.”  Of course, on wild windy days, he only “does the boogie” board with Mommy or big sister holding his back and the boogie board string.  Lucas has such trust and he doesn’t need to analyze everything to appreciate it.  Sometimes I wish I could step backward into that trust.  Turn my analytical mind off and just bask in the fun.  Sit on a boogie board and giggle when the waves try to move me.  Okay, maybe that just works for those who can’t order off the big kid menu yet.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart