Writer's Corner

Happy hump day everyone!

As some of you may be aware, I was recently fortunate enough to be blessed with a laptop computer from a friend of mine at the Telluride House in Ann Arbor.

Every year the Telluride House awards scholarships for free room and board to select University of Michigan students. As a condition of the scholarship each student is required to give back by spending time volunteering in the community. One of the many ways the students have chosen to give back is by offering free University of Michigan concert tickets to Delonis Center residents.

Many of the residents had never experienced attending the symphony, or a piano recital, or a classical jazz ensemble before. Pretty much anyone who attended the concerts really enjoyed the opportunity to do something out of the ordinary and take their minds off of job searches, living with no income, depression, or whatever else might have been weighing heavily on their shoulders.

I, lover of music that I am, attended every concert I could possibly attend. It was at the classical jazz outing that I had the privilege of meeting “The Three Michaels”, who (as the phrase implies) were three guys named Michael who all lived at the house. Before every concert, the volunteers would take us to the Panera Bread on campus to treat us to a free meal as well as lively conversation.

Those guys are bursting with hilarity, I tell you!

It was during one of these discussions that I enthusiastically announced a writing project I was working on about my experience in a shelter and what has led me to this point in my life. One of the Michaels (African Michael as I like to call him) randomly sent me an email one day asking me if it would be easier for me to write my novel if I had a laptop.

Umm...let me think...drag my butt to the library everyday, flash drive in hand, praying that my semi dysfunctional brain doesn't somehow loose all my documents

VS

Have my own portable computer with my documents saved on the hard drive AND on my flash drive?

I think my answer went a little something like, “OMG! Thank you so much! That is really generous of you! Oh wow! Now I won't have to go to the library! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Thanks again!” Needless to say, I was immensely thankful that he would think of me in that way.

The idea of resurrecting my blog actually came to me because I felt that the least I could do after receiving the most generous gift I have ever received in my life was to keep all the Michaels, as well as everyone else at the Telluride House, updated on my writing progress.

So, with that thought in mind, I decided to specifically dedicate Wednesday as a day to share snippets of my writing, and discuss things that frustrate or excite me about whatever project I am working on at the time.

A couple weeks ago a coworker said to me, “Sarah, you're a really strong person. I can't believe that after everything you're going through you still manage to come to work laughing and smiling. I don't know how you do it!”.

That comment surprised me, because I have never before felt as weak as I have during this past year. Yet, others still seem to view me as a pillar of strength. Sitting at my computer, I began writing a meditation about this subject that I would like to share in my first Writer's Corner blog entry.

As with every entry, I would love to hear your thoughts on this piece. Enjoy!

Strength

By: Sarah Lenore

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What does it really mean when people tell me I'm strong? I hear it a lot, but I'm not convinced. What does it mean? That despite all the adversity I am still here? That I haven't jumped off a bridge or died of a sudden aneurysm caused by all the stress in my life? I'm not sure the fact that I'm still breathing makes me a strong person. Isn't that an function of the autonomic nervous system?

I actually feel like a hamster on a wheel, running as fast as I can but getting nowhere. It seems as if I achieve just as much running as I do standing still. What a conundrum!

I suspect that strength is not to be found while living life like a caged rodent trying desperately to work off the calories from the food pellets it just ate. The secret must be to get off the wheel and live life outside of the box and see where that takes me.

Problem is, I have been trying my whole life to figure out how to get off that damn wheel! Sure, it's easy in a hamster cage. You step off the cold metal onto plush cedar scented (and slightly urine soaked) wood chips, but my wheel seems to be hovering thousands above the clouds. I fear the inevitable descent into the unknown below. What is down there? I have asked that question continuously for years. The answer, I've decided, is that whatever is down there can't be worse than what is up here on this never ending wheel of doom (sounds scary doesn't it? Well it is!).

I think strength comes from the willingness to leap without knowing where you're going to land. I am in my twenty ninth year of life on this Earth, and I am finally taking that leap. I'm not even halfway down yet, but I already feel stronger. It's exciting and terrifying, but hopefully one day when someone says, “Sarah, you are so strong to have gone through so much, and still be here laughing and smiling!” I will be able to reply, “I know, right?!”