Sally Gerard

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Why do you need a second master’s degree? This is a question I’ve been asked more than once. Why am I taking on student loan debt at this point in my life?

My last ten-week capstone course is in week six right now. I’m piecing together all of the learning over the last two and half years as I’ve slowly pursued this degree in Professional Creative Writing. Before I began at DU, all I knew was that I wanted to learn more about being a writer in some kind of writing program. I applied, sent in my writing samples, and was accepted. And so, it began and has been incredible.

Why? Because if I hadn’t, I’d be longing to still. Because I needed to study, learn, write, and belong to a committed community of writers. Because my sister told me that our mom would have encouraged me to go for it. Because from day one of class one, I’ve been hooked, enthralled, energized, challenged, and completely at home with where I started and where I am now. More to come…graduation in June.

Caring and compassion are two things I want my characters to discover in whatever world they must exist. Everyone encounters conflict, but if we can find those who will have empathy and stand by us, then somehow it is easier to make it through to the other side, no matter how much gets thrown down in our path. Just knowing you are in someone’s prayers, that you arise in their thoughts each day is powerful.

It could be that shared bar of Mon Aimee Chocolate, or the handmade card that greets you when you check into a hotel in a city where you’ve never been before.

Or the guy at the exit to the rental car place who senses your unease and hands you a bottle of water, calling you by name and telling you that you’ll be just fine.

Perhaps it is the hiker coming down the trail, just as you get to the most difficult rocky and steep part, who says, “Just keep putting one foot in front of the other and you’ll make it.”

It is a word, a smile, a hand at your back. Be that for someone, won’t you?

Hoarfrost is a beautiful, delicate, and dense phenomena. Britannica defines it as: “deposit of ice crystals on objects exposed to the free air, such as grass blades, tree branches, or leaves. It is formed by direct condensation of water vapour to ice at temperatures below freezing and occurs when air is brought to its frost point by cooling.”

Heavy fog has greeted me the last three mornings when I set out on my run. I came back coated in frost as well. The fence wires and pine needles were sagging under the weight of that hoarfrost. Cattle and horse hair and whiskers are white with it as well. It turned the world into a bright white outline, like everything was built from stiff white crystals.

The little apple tree was coated, and the Christmas lights made rainbows of color all through the jolly branches. It is cold, sure, but oh so striking.

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Riding along at the front of the sled, she pitched the hay from side-to-side as the pick-up bumped slowly along over frozen ground. She knew fear in the moment when her right foot stepped just a fraction of an inch too far behind her left.

As the heavy sled swallowed her right leg, pinning her underneath, her right side came down hard on the ball hitch and chain. A whimpering emerged from her throat as the sled continued to claim her upper thigh and she could feel all the tiny bits of frozen dirt and manure as her leg rode along under the sled.

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When it stopped, she could still hear that little kid sound coming from her throat, high and quiet-like. The driver hadn’t seen her go down but had noticed that she wasn’t there in the rearview anymore and the pick-up stopped.

When his body weight stepped on the sled to get across, the pain of that step directly over her knee made the sound louder. “Can you get it off me? Get it off me, please.”

What do you see when you take a walk through your life? We all have those moments we’d love to be able to hit erase or backspace so we could get a do-over. Because we all have those dark sides, hopefully it makes us more accepting and forgiving of them in others. Making amends isn’t easy, but when I think about the wrongs I’ve done to others, I really want to find the courage to admit it, ask for pardon, and be able to move on in relationship.

I also see those bright moments, and many more of those than the ones I’d take back if I could. Bright moments like Bullet’s ears perked up as we ride out to bring the heifers in. The way the rose-colored light spreads across the tree rows as the sun sets. The blue Christmas lights outside the bedroom window in the dark of night, swaying in the breeze. Joy when I hear my son’s voice on the other end of the phone. Sharing stories with my daughter as she journeys to a whole new place in her life.

We were not made to dwell in darkness, but in light and blessing. Make amends and find delight in your journey.

I am constantly amazed at the way we can be connected with people we don’t know and will most likely never meet all over the world. Social media is a blessing, but I understand it can also be a curse.

I can share tiny moments of my world, like the birds piled up on the bird feeder and how that relates to something I’m writing or will write, or the barn in the snow, or some precarious position I’ve found myself in when I wasn’t paying attention.

And I get to see someone’s hike in Alaska or garden in Australia or a sheep dog napping in the heat of the day. I see positive ideas and thoughts being put out there in the universe with love and intention and it makes me want to be better. Aren’t we supposed to make this world a better place? I think so.

Of course, I love it when our dear friends, neighbors just ten miles away, call to see if we’re up for pizza and ice-cream. We all need that physical connection, but I also love that little red spot that tells me someone liked my Tweet or my blog, and I enjoy filling in the little heart when I like what someone else posted. It’s like the gentle snowflakes sliding down my face this morning as I stood catching my breath after my run, under the colored lights on the roof. Sappy? Maybe, but filled with joy and peace and love.

Blizzards strike fear into the hearts of anyone with animals, well okay, with anyone that can’t just sit safe and warm in a well-insulated home with hot cocoa, marshmallows, coffee, and power! When we get a blizzard warning, we take it seriously. More often than not, we lose power with high winds and we try to take that into account.

Fill the five-gallon jugs with water so we can brew coffee. I mean we do have our priorities. The stove is gas, so we can cook on the stove top; we just have to have things we can cook that don’t require opening and closing the fridge and freezer. Candles are handy, and I charge all my non-electric powered chargers, so I can still work. We open the cupboard doors where we have water pipes, close doors to rooms we don’t need to heat, and dig out the mountain sleeping bags just in case. But I’m getting ahead of myself. The stock comes first.

Make sure all stock tanks are full because water doesn’t pump without power. In advance of wind, bed down corrals with fresh straw so cattle will be nice and cozy when they have to stay in the corral in order to have a wind break. Make sure feed is handy for heifers, bulls, and horses. Trying to put out straw or hay in a strong wind means we weren’t paying attention to the forecast because we eat more of it than the animals will.

Soon enough the wind has pounded that flying snow into hard drifts while scouring the ground bare in other spots, and on we go.

I spend a fair amount of time reading great books, though not nearly enough either!  When I walk or drive, I listen to books on my Audible. In the evenings, when I finally close the computer lid, I read physical books. I much prefer turning the paper pages myself, but I love my Audible because the spoken words can take me to tons of places and people I’d never have the time to sit and read, while I’m doing other things.

I’m in the middle of a young adult book, The Dangerous Art of Blending In, by Angelo Surmelis (Thank you, Elaine). I find myself captivated by the cruelty endured, and the rich inner mind of the protagonist, Evan, and his quest to “fit in.” I am reminded of every single time I looked the other way when I knew, without a doubt, that I was being called to reach out to someone hiding hurt.

I am also reminded of my own inner life and how I used it to survive in so many untenable scenes in my own life, and how books, lots and lots of books, showed me the way.

It was past time to take down the Christmas tree, but sitting in the early morning with only the sweet colored lights sparking through the tinsel and glass ornaments is so tranquil. It’s that Balm in Gilead that soothes my soul. The little pine’s season was over. Needles were dropping and I knew I needed to put away those shiny balls and silvery thread for another year.

When I do manage to make myself put Christmas away, the living room seems empty. Extending the season for a little longer, I left the tree in the stand and put it out on the deck under the lights still up on the house. It is good there, for a while. And I know myself well-enough by now to know that those lights will come down sometime in March, but I’ll still have the apple tree out north light up until April.

There is just something I love about Christmas lights.

2019:  A year for action. I looked back to what I resolved to do when 2018 began:

1. Listen in the moment without forming my response
2. Daily thanks
3. Use my mom’s china
4. Move every day
5. Write
6. Let go of hurt

I’ve excused the jury. On to 2019.

1. Be thankful for little things
2. Write the stories bubbling inside me
3. Stop saying no to myself before I’ve even begun
4. Write five days a week
5. Use my mom’s china

I know I’ll keep moving every day because that is what powers my writing, my thinking, my teaching, my ability to be thankful. As I begin, next week, the final portfolio course of my master’s in professional creative writing, I can hardly believe it’s been just three short years since I started down that path. I’ve learned so much and have so much more to learn. I’m going to graduate in March! I could get mired in the student debt I’ll then have to start paying back, but I choose not to.

I will focus, as best I can, on my writing and publishing and staying to true to the stories that live and breathe inside of me. A year for action, welcome 2019!