“As I saw more beauty in others’ uniqueness, I began to appreciate my own.”
~Sarah Winifred Searle
Eric’s post about paranormal encounters over’t MakeItUltra™ has inspired me to share my own thoughts about “strange happenings.” When I was very young I would sometimes see and hear things that the grown-ups around me didn’t seem to catch, and when I questioned them, I was routinely patted on the head and told that I had an [overly] active imagination. Those dismissive attitudes encouraged me to seek answers on my own. Thus began my interest in the paranormal and the strange and inexplicable in general.
I was taught by sincere Pentecostal types that anything “otherworldly” was to absolutely be feared and avoided as being “of the Devil” but was confused when my own experiences didn’t fit that bill. What about the times when something inexplicable showed up that didn’t make my skin crawl at all? When “a presence” was comforting or empowering?
In the fourth grade I finally, sheepishly admitted to a beloved teacher that I’d seen “a white spirit” when I was alone at home. The look of horror on her face and her stern warning to ignore it and let it pass (make it go away, I think were her exact words) convinced me that even trusted adults thought me a liar … or worse yet, crazy.
In college, I stumbled across a book by Billy Graham entitled Angels: God’s Secret Agents and it opened a whole new world of wonderful, biblical, possible explanations for the experiences I’d had. Surely good God-fearin’ folk wouldn’t argue with Billy Graham! I knew and trusted that I had at least one guardian in the cosmos.
When my spice and I began our conversion to the Catholic Church, I began studying her take on the angels and saints, and more importantly to me, their intercession and guidance in our daily lives … and my mind was blown.
Have you had strange encounters? Please share iffin’ you’re of a mind to.
Following Jackie’s lead, I finally decided to take a go at La Duchesse’s TGBOL prompt for the week* because, hey, quirkiness is something this chick can totally get behind. I like quirk. And, if you like quirk, I’m happy to share mine. I hope you will too.
1/Music: Is it possible to get any quirkier than Disco? My spice and kidlens would shout a resounding No! As a funky fairy child of the far out 70s, I would steal my beautifully hip disco-queen mom’s strappy high heels and boogie my heart out all over the dance floor that was our living room’s shag rug. To this day, my inner Debbie Harry delights in dancing to disco tunes. And yes, I can do the Hustle. Can you dig it?
2/Food: Is sniffing heretofore new foods a quirk? If not, it should be. Look, I’m not ashamed to admit that I have the picky and peculiar eating habits of a fussy four-year-old. So you best believe that I’m not gonna put something in my mouth if it doesn’t pass the sniff test with a thumbs up from my nose. My spice, himself an amateur foodie, oft admonishes, You don’t sniff it, Micki, you eat it. Yeah well, the nose knows.
3/Fashion: I really like fashion. I really love fun. So, fun fashion is like a great big hug from the Universe. However. I’m forty-something. I’m at that age where fun fashion is fine as long as it’s tamed. I’m all for feelin’ fabulous and kickin’ it like you just don’t care, but I have a fairly conservative inner-voice that insists I dress closer to my age. At my age, dressing too fun (funly?) just ends up looking desperate. So for now, it’s simply quirky. Of course, I’m counting down the years until I’m just old enough to be considered beautifully eccentric a la’ Iris. Then I’ll really let my freak flag fly!
4/Speaking with my Hands: Say what? No, I don’t mean using sign language — although I did take an ASL course at our local community college in order to communicate with my wees when they were pre-verbal, but that’s another post. I mean that my hands flap like bathing birds and fly around to illustrate when I speak. I’ve always been this way. My Nonny used to tell me that I wouldn’t be able to speak without my hands. True story: she’d make me sit on my hands to keep me quiet in church. And, thank Heaven for phones that give the time. I cannot bear to admit how many watch faces I unwittingly smashed while conversing over the years.
5/Thinking with my Hands: I’m what you used to call a visual learner and thinker. Not only do I smell in color and love to read words as well as pretty pictures, but just about any time that I’m trying to listen intently to a person, I like to scribble and take notes**. I have pens and notepads everywhere; all around my desk, in my purses, in my car… Without my notes and scribbles, I tend to have to ask you to repeat yourself so that I can clarify what you’ve said. It’s not because I wasn’t listening to what you said [although, your fabulous necklace may have momentarily taken me off track] it’s that I’m not someone who is a quick auditory study. I’m the person who’ll tell you to “take a right on the second street after the QuickieMart” instead of “head west on Elm.”
*TGBOL CHAPTER 6.0 EMBRACE YOUR QUIRKINESS
**Some educators have added read/write to the mix of learning styles. Since I haven’t taught in a brick-and-mortar school for a thousand years, I’m still old school. (pun intended)
This film is responsible for a generation of girls from the 90s experimenting with witchcraft and forming their own covens in order to levitate each other during sleepover parties. The Craft (1996, dir. Andrew Fleming) is one of those films that is so 1990s that it almost works as a time travelling device back to […]
Toke up and rejoice weed smokers, it’s 420 Day again, In honor of the only worldwide holiday celebrating marijuana, who better to celebrate it with than those 1970s’s comic book band of original Doobie brothers “The Fabulous Freak Brothers.” This threesome of cold stone dopers who appeared in their own counter-culture comic books in the […]
A couple of days ago I wrote a blog to remind people that equal access is not special access. What followed was a predictable flood of comments (that I will never publish) with stories (many of whi…
I ran across this modest little poem in the earliest hours of this morning and it struck me in such a significant way, that I read and re-read it several times, trying to digest its considerable meaning, while grinning from ear to ear. I must admit that I admire anyone cheeky enough to give God what-for, especially in such an honest and tender way, so I made inquiry with its author, Thomas D*. He has generously allowed me permission to share it with you. May you find it as meaningful as I do.
Thomas lives in a “wicked awesome” suburb of Boston, Massachusetts.
Well, here’s a happy thought worth sharing from Todd Lohenry at Bright, shiny objects.
Source: Holding on
One of the most beautiful rewards of blogging is the amazing community of bloggers one runs into out there in the ether. With such a plethora of personalities and no short supply of wisdom and opinion, there’s something for everyone to savor. It’s an honor to be able to add my two cents to this diverse conversation, for what it’s worth.
I am selecting 5 bloggers who bring happiness or hope (or both) to their readers in this post. I plan to spread the love to more of my fellow bloggers in future posts.
Lorelei at Dreams Never End
lisamaria at kidscrumbsandcrackers
DTR at the little koi
jennymarie at Peace from Panic
Lydia at Oceans Never Fill
Further reading may be found at this posts permanent residence as the page Beautiful Blogstuff under Welcome.