Tag Archives: Holidays

The One Writing Skill You Must Have


by Lillian Csernica on December 11, 2017

stock-vector-pop-art-blonde-woman-seat-and-keep-a-diary-comic-girl-hold-a-pen-and-write-in-a-book-vintage-hand-386662831

Here we are in the holiday season. This time of year will stress out anybody, even those people lucky enough to have a “normal” family life. Writers often come from dysfunctional families. Writers often have mental health issues. Put it all together and the holiday season can be quite a gauntlet to run, between day jobs, holiday preparations, family gatherings, and the desperate struggle for time and space write.

My therapist taught me a skill that I will now pass along to you. This skill is designed to buy you the mental and emotional space you need to survive when you find yourself overwhelmed. Your mileage may vary, but give it a try. Three simple words:

Achieve literary distance.

How does one do this? Here’s my method. I always have my tote bag with me. At the moment it contains four notebooks, two manuscripts, one of those zippered pouches for pens, and a few other odds and ends. I take the tote bag everywhere. When life gets too intense, I pull out a notebook and a pen. If I’m stuck in a line, I spot the most interesting people and jot down quick lists of their notable physical and behavioral traits. If I’m in a waiting room, I might write a scene involving two of the people waiting there also.

writing-pen-notebook-flower-sweet-color-design-background-67196175

The point here is to derail our anxiety by making our trains of thought switch tracks. Becoming consciously more observant puts us into a more objective state of mind. Sometimes what we really need is to get out of our own heads. By calling on the skills that help us achieve literary distance, we can at least get out of the Anxiety Attic and go hang out in the Creativity Corner.  When we deliberately shift our focus outward, we may very well lower our anxiety levels.

I know this works for me. I get all stressed out about being on time, getting everything done according to my To Do list, or I’m all knotted up mentally because of a conflict with a family member.  When I achieve literary distance, that helps me step back, take that deep breath, connect pen to paper, and re-establish a calmer, more flexible state of mind.

45990260-learning-new-language-writing-words-many-times-on-the-notebook-russian

Make this skill work for you. If you like texting ideas on the Notepad function of your phone, go for it. If you need a blank journal with no lines and a few broken crayons, more power to you. If you just want to sit in a comfy spot and take some mental notes along with a few deep breaths, that’s good too.

Writing is our superpower. We can use it to rescue ourselves.

9-i-write-whats-your-superpower-mug

 

 

Advertisements

8 Comments

Filed under Christmas, creativity, Depression, editing, Family, Fiction, frustration, Lillian Csernica, neurodiversity, Special needs, therapy, Writing

A Special Needs Christmas Carol


by Lillian Csernica on December 15th, 2015

The holiday season has come round again.  It’s a stressful time for any family.  In a household where we already have all the demands of the special needs lifestyle, the additional claims on our time and sanity increase exponentially.

To show my support for all the caregivers who come under the heading of Family, I’ve rewritten The Twelve Days of Christmas to reflect the holiday season from our point of view.

The 12 Days of Christmas

as sung in an ASD household.

tantrum

On the first day of Christmas,

the spectrum gave to me

My child having a hissy.

medbottle

On the second day of Christmas,

the spectrum gave to me

Two late refills

and my child having a hissy.

Basic RGB

On the third day of Christmas

the spectrum gave to me

Three lost toys

Two late refills

and my child having a hissy.

picture1

On the fourth day of Christmas

the spectrum gave to me

Four IEPs

Three lost toys

Two late refills

and my child having a hissy.

stock-photo-flat-tire-of-an-old-car-282937727

On the fifth day of Christmas

the spectrum gave to me

Five bus breakdowns

Four IEPs

Three lost toys

Two late refills

and my child having a hissy.

mark_your_calendar

On the sixth day of Christmas

the spectrum gave to me

Six different meetings

Five bus breakdowns

Four IEPs

Three lost toys

Two late refills

and my child having a hissy.

a_frustrated_secretary_trying_to_answer_multiple_phones_royalty_free_clipart_picture_110517-139598-514053

On the seventh day of Christmas

the spectrum gave to me

Seven calls a-waiting

Six different meetings

Five bus breakdowns

Four IEPs

Three lost toys

Two late refills

And my child having a hissy.

lunapic_134850661095366_2

On the eighth day of Christmas

the spectrum gave to me

Eight aides a-coughing

Seven calls a-waiting

Six different meetings

Five bus breakdowns

Four IEPs

Three lost toys

Two late refills

and my child having a hissy.

stock-vector-tired-cartoon-parents-with-their-children-running-around-them-185352593

On the ninth day of Christmas

the spectrum gave to me

Nine classmates fussing

Eight aides a-coughing

Seven calls a-waiting

Six different meetings

Five bus breakdowns

Four IEPs

Three lost toys

Two late refills

and my child having a hissy.

stock-photo-a-scaterring-of-yellow-goldfish-crackers-284355260

On the tenth day of Christmas

the spectrum gave to me

Ten goldfish crackers

Nine classmates fussing

Eight aides a-coughing

Seven calls a-waiting

Six different meetings

Five bus breakdowns

Four IEPs

Three lost toys

Two late refills

and my child having a hissy.

two_children_crying_while_holding_mothers_hand_royalty_free_clipart_picture_090710-033183-148053

On the eleventh day of Christmas

the spectrum gave to me

Eleven wants repeated

Ten goldfish crackers

Nine classmates fussing

Eight aides a-coughing

Seven calls a-waiting

Six different meetings

Five bus breakdowns

Four IEPs

Three lost toys

Two late refills

and my child having a hissy.

1100

On the twelfth day of Christmas

the spectrum gave to me

Twelve migraines drumming

Eleven wants repeated

Ten goldfish crackers

Nine classmates fussing

Eight aides a-coughing

Seven calls a-waiting

Six different meetings

Five bus breakdowns

Four IEPs

Three lost toys

Two late refills

and my child having a hissy.

merry-christmas-banner-clipart

1 Comment

Filed under autism, Christmas, Depression, doctors, Family, family tradition, frustration, Goals, hospital, housework, Humor, love, marriage, mother, neurodiversity, parenting, special education, Special needs, therapy, worry, Writing

Birthday Celebrations, Part Two


by Lillian Csernica on December 29, 2013

Today’s actual partying has included a bento box lunch at my second favorite sushi emporium.  My #1 favorite is closed until New Year‘s.  Chris speculated that the staff was at home pounding mochi, which is entirely possible.  He told me this fascinating fact: pounding mochi for the New Year’s rice cakes is a really big deal in sumo stables.  I can see those large gentlemen being good at it, as strong as they are.   We had a good time at lunch, watching this little tiny Asian girl in her party dress give our server a workout trying to maneuver around the little girl while serving our bento boxes.  The music playing over the PA system was some strange langorous pop music.  Granted, listening to taiko while you’re trying to eat isn’t always that relaxing, but some shamisen and shakuhachi would have been nice.

After lunch we happened to spot a new chocolate shop across the parking lot, Ashby Confections.  This place was amazing.  One of the chocolates on display is made with Ghost chili.  If you’re not familiar with the world of chilis, let’s just say this is the absolute top of the mountain, King/Emperor/God of chilis.  Makes habaneros look like bell peppers.  For you endorphin junkies out there, this might make for quite a culinary adventure.  Me, I chose a Caramel Apple Truffle make with apple brandy the confectioner brought back from Paris.  If all this sounds worth investigating, and believe me, it is, you can see more of the delights available at www.ashbyconfections.com.

There is a rock shop along Highway 9 that I’ve pointed out to Chris more than once.  He suggested we visit it, because now that we’d had some chocolate, nothing would make me happier than buying a new rock.  This sounds silly, but more than once in the days when the depression was still crushing my spirit Chris would take me out and we’d hunt up a shop that sold semiprecious stones.  That’s how I got my labradorite heart, big enough to fit in the palm of my hand.

Mountain Spirit is one of those places where you just know the Buddhist, yoga, Hindu, and New Age folks like to shop.  Plenty of statues of Kwan Yin and Ganesh, prayer flags. and whatever incense was burning.  It’s a nice place with something for every age range.  I had been in there once before, but not on a serious mission of acquisition.  I explored the place, mentally checking off every rock I already had, i.e. amethyst and malachite and lapis lazuli and tiger iron and even Pakistani agate.  Much to my delight, I found a splendid specimen of kyanite.  It was available in obelisk form, which did a lot to show off the color variations and crystalline structure.  Even better was the “raw” specimen that bared the blue/gray crystals in their native matrix.  Had to have it.  The really sweet young lady who runs the shop showed me the listing for kyanite in her book on the meanings of stones.  That information harmonized well with the goals on my immediate horizon for the New Year, so all the better.  Now I just have to find a good display stand.

Kyanite from mineralatlas.com

 

Now here I sit, having just completed my Amazon Author Page.  Got a rejection slip today, but hey, that’s still progress, right?  Ad astra, baby!

Leave a comment

Filed under birthday, chocolate, Depression, Family, Humor, romance, Small business, Writing

A Christmas Wish Comes True


by Lillian Csernica on December 20, 2013

Every now and then, in the middle of all the planning and sorting out schedule conflicts and the dread of last-minute disasters, you get lucky.  Every now and then, God reaches down and hands you a Perfect Moment.

On Tuesday, John’s aide and I scooped him up right after school and headed for the mall where he wanted to talk to Santa Claus.  I’d been careful to tuck John’s wish list into my purse so John could hand the original to Santa.  (I made a copy for the ongoing reference of all the gift-givers.)  Traffic was mild at that time of day.  I knew which parking lot would get us close to where Santa Claus’ photo booth was set up.  Sure enough, there was plenty of parking.  The three of us made our way into the mall and found the photo booth fresh and shiny with its Christmas trees and red carpeting and the bright blue couch where Santa sits, a couch big enough for family or group photos.

John led the way through the gate in the enclosure.  There was no line.  Nobody at all!  The photographer and her assistant were off to one side, chatting.  There sat Santa Claus.  Not the same man from years past, but a man who could well have been the actual Santa Claus himself.  He was everything you read about in “The Night Before Christmas.”  No pipe, but he did have that twinkle in his eye.

Santa Claus spotted John and beckoned him over.  I went to the exit where I could watch and still let John have his privacy.  Santa Claus made room for John on the couch and patted the cushion beside him.  John sat down and they went over John’s list item by item.  When John stood up to leave, Santa gave him a candy cane, then glanced over at me, flashed me a grin, and gave John another candy cane saying, “Here’s one for your Mom.”  They shook hands, Santa Claus blew John a kiss, and John walked over to me, his smile so bright it brought tears to my eyes.

But wait!  There’s more!

We turned to go join John’s aide where she stood waiting.  There, standing beside her, were my mother and my sister!  I had no idea my sister had taken my mother shopping in that very mall.  They had seen John and me walking over to Santa Claus’ photo booth and hurried over to stand with his aide.  Grandma and John’s Aunt got to be there to see John talk to Santa Claus, the one part of the season that really means the most to John.  My mother was so happy, and my sister was pleased too.  To have coordinated that moment on purpose would have been almost impossible.  There we stood, our family, all of us so happy for John.

It was a Perfect Moment.

Thank you, St. Nicholas.  Thank you, Lord.  Thank you so much for making my boy happy, and for putting all of us right there at the right moment to share his happiness.

2 Comments

Filed under autism, Family, fantasy, Goals, Humor, Special needs, Writing