Category Archives: writing

writing

The email I wrote for international day last year

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Dear All,

I’m sending this out on a personal note.

In simple terms this email is a thank you. It is international Day of People with Disability. I refuse to deal with Christmas till after today every year!

Regardless of how stage managed events around it need to become to raise the profile, IDPwD is intensely personal and profound for me.This year it is quite emotional for me. For me it is an opportunity to take a big breathe and acknowledge the journey, the wins, the losses and the inevitable work arounds. This starts with looking at my own life and using that reflection to look outwards. It involves giving thanks to all the powers that might be and to those in my circle who give me strength and courage and other resources to make “it” happen. You are each getting this because you have personally helped me “run that gauntlet”

Interestingly, looking out for a minute I see a big disconnect between parts of the messages that are being sent out this year. Domestically we are being told to celebrate the successes and the achievements and while fighting for the NDIS, keep it light and fluffy and a-political, This is even though there are enough people with disability to fill Victoria and we are under-utilised and more likely to be in all sorts of other not-nice minorities as a result .

On the other hand, the United Nations who proclaimed the annual observance in 1992 still tell us that:

“Persons with disabilities make up an estimated 15 per cent of the world’s population. Almost one-fifth of the estimated global total of persons living with disabilities, or between 110-190 million, encounter significant difficulties. Furthermore, a quarter of the global population is directly affected by disability, as care-givers or family members.
Persons with disabilities encounter many disadvantages in their societies and are often subjected to stigma and discrimination. They remain largely marginalized, disproportionately poorer, frequently unemployed and have higher rates of mortality. Furthermore, they are largely excluded from civil and political processes and are overwhelmingly voiceless in matters that affect them and their society”

I think this is a call to action if ever I heard one!

I think the truth lies somewhere in the middle and that for those of us who are “active participants” have the balancing act ongoing. It is because of people like you that I find the strength “to run the race before me”, even if we never talk about disability! Thank you from the bottom of my heart. . It takes courage to be sit on the margins. The marginalisation may have have changed but it is still present and I still feel it so thanks for the gifts of courage I am given in the big and small ways..

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Just writing

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I’ve always wanted to be a writer. A good writer. Partly because I love words and the way they can move both writer and reader of all types. But partly if I’m honest ( the new me now) because when well done, it seems it can be portable.

I want to write because I want to hope that I’m half good at it. I want to write because I feel safer behind my words. But in the same breath I don’t think I’m that good at it. Or at best good enough to do the dream.

I don’t remember the small things of my life, my real life. I promise myself I will, but I don’t. I also don’t really remember the details of good enough stuff I read.

I’m listening to Geraldine Brookes giving the first of her four Boyer lectures. It is broadly speaking on the environment and having a sense of place. I usually get turned off by environmental activism as much of it seems to be anti people, anti relationship and anti balance and full of guilt mungering and but you must know generalizations

I like the way she put her acknowledgement of country neatly within the context of her lecture; where it made sense and resonated with the rest of the points she was making. I believe her. I join her in that sentiment wholeheartedly as opposed to watching it sit there like a sixth digit.

I now at the end of that lecture want to go and check that the wheelchair charger that keeps me disabled and handicapped from having any sort of real wilderness experience is off and run the handwashing load that is due as early as possible to make use the natural sunlight to dry things in air.

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Perhaps *part* of the reason for the neglect of the blog

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NanoWriMo winner Yay

Congrats to Tony for getting there too. At least he had the manners to warn his readers.

The voice dictation software helped somewhat as did good ol’ pen and paper.

I have promised to let people read at least extracts but I must clean it up first!

 

 

 

 

 

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The solution to writers block; talking.

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As I write this I’m listening to problogger interviewing Seth Godin on productivity and blogging. Is an interesting interview.

 

The concept that is speaking out for me is talking as a solution to the writer’s block. He mentioned that the solution to his writers block is to write like you talk. Learn to talk in full sentences (with something to say!) And then write that way.

 

As one who wishes she wrote more, thought deeper and broader etc etc this might be useful advice. Particularly in my case because I use voice recognition software, which works better if you can think at least in phrases–or at least not turn the microphone on until you know vaguely what you’re going to say. I get complimented on my writing when I talk it rather than typing it.

 

It may not have been how I was taught to write, sentence structure parts of speech and such. But it does work.

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Based on today’s weather: red coat

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red coat moves,

is she floating,

its hard to see her legs

rain,

failing, not drifting

but not heavy enough

to hide away

People,

the other people, on legs

drifting too

and rushing back into her

 

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new technology part two–umm and ahh continued

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In light of this post from FWD– feminists with disabilities, I thought it would be good to update everybody on my continuing experience with Dragon Dictate for Mac, which I have been using sporadically since my birthday.

By and large it’s great. I certainly use it for most of my blog posts, which is why they can be quite a bit longer. I also use the software for e-mail although that is still a bit harder than I’d like it to be, mostly user error I’m sure.

My biggest issue is knowing the terminology that it expects. It’s certainly a lot less random in its “actions” then earlier versions were and I think it’s still learning how I speak. But, when I’m on a roll it’s good. It is still very tempting to use my hands to move the cursor which I know is bad. When I do that the program starts to act out and add random letters to the end of my dictation. Also, my voice is fairly inconsistent and I need to be self-aware enough to know when it’s a good dictation day and when it isn’t.

It’s a long slow curve but it is worth the investment already.

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Tuesday tiny: Orwell’s view of my writing

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I listened to George Orwell’s: Politics and the English Language as read to me by my computer. He may not like this blog much! However, we do agree on this:

In our age there is no such thing as “keeping out of politics.” All issues are political issues, and politics itself is a mass of lies, evasions, folly, hatred,……..

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Monday at 3:30 AM

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I had great plans for today. I had a bit of an enforced break last week and although I took my laptop, some new billing software and at least a half baked desire to do work I found myself needing to rest again and playing computer games and watch YouTube videos of programs I had seen before and could more or less recite. It was a good rest and then last night I just could not sleep once wide awake and lay awake, with my wheelchair unable to be unplugged until the morning. For example, I was going to write 1000 words plus of my novel for NaNoWriMo–National Novel Writing Month, which are known about since I was in uni but it never actually been disciplined enough to finish. I’ve only got 200 words written so far and a busy month ahead in  other ways. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow.

So I am clearly exhausted. My eyes are smarting. My back hurts and my concentration and speech are equally sloppy. Yet I still strangely feel inspired. Lazy sloppy inspired.

It was interesting and peaceful though in watching the light change in a somewhat less familiar environment this morning accompanied by the occasional hum from the fridge and the noises of nocturnal animals and neighbours next door. There was a calming rhythm watching the world wake once I’ve decided that flight was not to be mine.

And as I finally rose at 5:15 in the morning, it was only then that the birds tweeted their first greetings. It felt poetic and beautiful.

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The sacred solution? Stephanie speaks

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From Stephanie Dowrick’s new book “Seeking the Sacred: transforming our view of ourselves and one another”:

The qualities needed to meet our most urgent social and environmental crises are the same as those we need in their communities and homes. They are the same as those we need to heal our personal suffering and lessen our confusion. Concern, connectedness, the dignity, forgiveness, patience, tolerance gratitude and inclusive intelligence: this is what the world needs. This is what we need.

Love it. Love the connectedness that she makes you think about. I think I also love the fact that she still sees it possible to improve society and the planet by improving the connections.

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Wet heat

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Backdated written in the early hours

Sat in a bookshop (Sappho) with tapas and a glass of wine tonight. Meaty and rich meatballs with a perfectly proportioned raspberry sauce – jam like, and chicken skewers.  It was home like, very real and just what “the doctor” ordered for me. There was comfort too in sitting in a bookshop with old books, not just the new shiny ones. A bookshop proud of its neatly hand-printed labels which remind me of  my fathers’ draftsman writing.

It is a cafe and even though I can’t as yet get beyond the 2 seater wooden table at the front (complete with polite but pointed note to likely try and prevent folks especially I would guess students from the nearby uni from camping there all day with laptops), I am confident that all the conversations was informed by the wisdom of the rooms air.

And now? Perched showered and not quite feeling clean in front of the gas heating diligently pumping out enough to leave the metal of my chair too hot and too pink but my shoulders are tight with the cool air.

I hear rain on the skylight of a reassuring weight. Here to stay.

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