Five Minute Friday: Truth

Microsoft Windows "restarting" screen.(So, I’ve been participating in a “writers’ flash mob” of sorts called Five Minute Friday. In response to a one-word prompt, hundreds of writers sit down and write for five minutes flat. No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font or punctuation; unscripted and unedited. Here’s today’s edition…setting the timer….)

Five Minute Friday: Truth

Go.

Truth exists.

I believe in truth.

I want to know the truth.

I believe I even know what some of it is.

But if I truly value truth, I can’t just assume I know it.

I have my opinions about “truth” and some of those opinions are correct.

Law of averages, and all that…

But – law of averages – some of my opinions about “truth” are false.

The key is to care.

The key is to care whether my version of truth is true.

The key is to keep seeking, asking, considering, and listening.

The key is to care if what I think is the truth holds up over time.

If it holds up over a lifetime…

I do believe in truth.

I do care what it is.

I will continue to seek it.

I will continue to ask questions.

I will continue to consider other points of view.

I will continue to listen.

I will continue to care whether my version of truth is true.

That’s the key.

And that’s the truth.

Stop.

Hand written note states, "It is better to debate an issue without settling it than to settle it without debate."

Five Minute Friday: Sing

The music app icon from an iPhone with a background showing a leafless tree limb.

(So, I’ve been participating in a “writers’ flash mob” of sorts called Five Minute Friday. In response to a one-word prompt, hundreds of writers sit down and write for five minutes flat. No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font or punctuation; unscripted and unedited. Here’s today’s edition…setting the timer….)

Five Minute Friday: Sing

Go.

How can I sing when my heart’s out of tune?

When there’s no harmony in my world?

My soul seeks to sing – to hum along and whistle.

My soul, not always knowing or remembering the words, bursts with song.

I sing because my soul chooses to sing.

It can’t not sing.

Sometimes out of tune or with the wrong words.

But I sing.

And it makes a difference.

At least to me.

Stop.

Five Minute Friday: Empty

Photo of United Methodist Cross and Flame beneath text of "Meditation at the Cross."

(So, I’ve been participating in a “writers’ flash mob” of sorts called Five Minute Friday. In response to a one-word prompt, hundreds of writers sit down and write for five minutes flat. No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font or punctuation; unscripted and unedited. Here’s today’s edition…setting the timer….)

Five Minute Friday: Empty

Go.

Good Friday Haiku;

Even angels are weeping;

Mournful psalms singing.

Power offered up;

Tender-hearted grace shown us;

Yahweh gave it all.

Stop.

Five Minute Friday: Slow

Sunrise reds and pinks as seen through glass.

(So, I’ve been participating in a “writers’ flash mob” of sorts called Five Minute Friday. In response to a one-word prompt, hundreds of writers sit down and write for five minutes flat. No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font or punctuation; unscripted and unedited. Here’s today’s edition…setting the timer….)

Five Minute Friday: Slow

Go.

Time has one speed.

It’s not fast. It’s not slow.

I don’t always perceive its steady pace. One moment I’m caught up in a frenzy of activities and deadlines, and then I slide into patches of impatience and wistful waiting.

Sometimes time seems to be racing past me; sometimes it feels like it is crawling by.

But of course time has one speed.

Tick.

Tock.

I’ve been reading about Native American culture and the custom of living at peace with nature’s pace.

I envy those who try to live that way and I cringe at our culture’s pushy infringement on their ability to do so – the shameful pattern in our nation and around the world of cheating native peoples, stealing their land, raping their natural resources, and undermining their ability to live according to their own customs. Just this week we have witnessed the latest installment of this shameful pattern at Standing Rock.

Those customs often model for the rest of us how we could live in harmony with time and its one, steady speed.

Tick.

Tock.

Time has one speed.

Synchronize watches.

Mark.

Stop.

Five Minute Friday: Connect

(So, I’ve been participating in a “writers’ flash mob” of sorts called Five Minute Friday. In response to a one-word prompt, hundreds of writers sit down and write for five minutes flat. No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font or punctuation; unscripted and unedited. Here’s today’s edition…setting the timer….)

Five Minute Friday: Connect

Go.

The road, one of the main ways in and out of town, slinks along between the river and a hill. On a good day, driving it involves an effort to ignore the patched places where the road started to slip off into the water and to overlook the pebbly places where the hill has shifted and scattered itself onto the pavement.

Now and then, the hill loses larger chunks of itself and the road must be closed until crews can scrape it out of the way and clear the lanes.

To be honest, even on days when we are allowed to drive along that road, I worry about it.

But it’s the shortest route and so I play along with the willing suspension of disbelief and drive on through, holding my breath, telling myself, “not today…it won’t come crashing down today.”

This week the road is closed, so I must seek out new connections to where I need to be.

Needing new connections so early in the new year.

Perhaps it’s a sign.

Stop.

 Screen shot of a Twitter post from highways, showing that a rock slide has closed a major roadway.

 

 

Five Minute Friday: Collect

Pay phone.

(So, I’ve been participating in a “writers’ flash mob” of sorts called Five Minute Friday. In response to a one-word prompt, hundreds of writers sit down and write for five minutes flat. No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font or punctuation; unscripted and unedited. Here’s today’s edition…setting the timer….)

Five Minute Friday: Collect

Go.

You don’t hear much these days about collect calls, but I remember them.

You contacted the operator and indicated you wanted to call a number “collect.”

The operator would place the call and when the person picked up on the other end, the operator mentioned your name and asked if that person would accept the charges.

Apparently they still exist as an incredibly expensive option, but in today’s world of “unlimited” calling and texting and emailing and Facebooking and Instagramming and tweeting and messaging and What’sApping, “collect calls” are not in our top-of-mind awareness.

In today’s world of “unlimited” everything and all-you-can-eat buffets, it is hard to remember that somebody, somewhere, pays for everything. Somebody “accepts the charges.”

Cheap gas? What we pay does not really cover the cost of the environmental impact of using the gas.

Cheap clothing? What we pay does not really provide a living wage to those who made the clothes, nor to the people selling them to us.

Cheap food? We pay for it with obesity and health problems.

Perhaps we need to collect ourselves, collect our thoughts, and reverse some things.

Stop.

Five Minute Friday: Five

Screen shot of an iPhone calendar reminder for Five Minute Friday, with the timer in the background set to 5 minutes.

(So, I’ve been participating in a “writers’ flash mob” of sorts called Five Minute Friday. In response to a one-word prompt, hundreds of writers sit down and write for five minutes flat. No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font or punctuation; unscripted and unedited. Here’s today’s edition…setting the timer….)

Five Minute Friday: Five

Go.

Five


Five fingers

Five toes

Five work days

Give me five


Five minutes


I can’t write about five.

I can’t write!

Lately I haven’t written.

I haven’t felt I had five minutes – not even five minutes with some time for quiet and focus to bang out something on the keyboard.

Not even five.


Since I went back to work a few months ago, I just have not had the time to myself I became accustomed to in order to write.

But maybe I need to get back in the saddle and suck it up.

I am not going to have much quiet time to myself.

But I still need to write.

I should still write.

I should write, even when it’s not still.


Coming up in October some folks are challenging each other to write something once a day, every day, for the entire month.

31 days in a row of “Five Minute Fridays.”

Maybe I should do it.

Maybe I need a short term, intense goal to instill some discipline in my writing again.


Five minutes.

Maybe the writing won’t be that great.

But maybe I need to learn how to do this even when I don’t have abundant quiet time to focus.

Especially when I don’t.

There’s lots going on to write about, heaven knows!

Get on it.

Stop. 

Screen shot of calendar reminder for Five Minute Friday. The time of day is 6:04. Along the bottom of the screen you can see where it says "try again."