Okay, so a week or two ago I had to attend some professional development meetings. That's right, I am now professionally developed.
Anyway, my principal rawks. Hard. She is so inspiring. And in a climate where we're losing like 30% of our budget and stuff like that, it's good to be around people that A) make you smile and then B) motivate you to do your job better.
And since I have a currently undiagnosed illness, I relate everything I hear to this whole "Hey, I wrote a book and now I want to publish it." thing. Do you have this illness? Perhaps it's just me.
So do you want to be professionally developed? You know you do.
Let's start with a picture.
Anyway, my principal rawks. Hard. She is so inspiring. And in a climate where we're losing like 30% of our budget and stuff like that, it's good to be around people that A) make you smile and then B) motivate you to do your job better.
And since I have a currently undiagnosed illness, I relate everything I hear to this whole "Hey, I wrote a book and now I want to publish it." thing. Do you have this illness? Perhaps it's just me.
So do you want to be professionally developed? You know you do.
Let's start with a picture.
This is Aspens Aglow by Connie Tom. And I love love love this painting. Because I love my nature moments to come in shades of gold and red.
There's just something about fall that I adore. The weather is finally cooler. The longer nights with brighter moons. The brilliant colors of the leaves.
Trees go through this massive change every year. First their delightful green leaves turn into brilliant oranges and yellows and reds. The beauty is spectacular. Walking through the forest is peaceful and awe-inspiring.
You never hear trees say, "You know, I don't think I'm going to change this year. I like my leaves just the way they are." That doesn't happen. Because the trees somehow know that when they allow themselves to change, they become better. They become awesome.
And this awesomeness comes from being stretched. The result is absolutely stunning. Notice that the cooler weather only stretches the trees. It doesn't break them.
This is how we are as writers. We must be stretched. Challenged to learn more, be better. And what happens when we accept this challenge?
We're beautiful and absolutely amazing.
We can produce gorgeous colors and achieve great things.
What do you think? Have you grown as a writer when you've been challenged? Is the result as amazing as the fall foliage? Or have the stretches broken you?