The Reset Button {How Introverting Work}

I called it my Reset Button long before I actually knew how it worked.

It was simple really¬†but seemed so convoluted and illogical that I wasn’t sure how to explain it. I would get into a good rhythm with going to bed on time, sleep well, and then work hard all day long. It felt glorious, but all too soon I’d feel abnormally tired and not be able to function like I should. It befuddled me.

Finally, after a week or so of this happening, I’d throw bedtimes out the window and indulge in a late night reading session. The thing that confused me most is that sometimes the book I was reading wasn’t even all that exciting – or maybe it was a re-read. So, it wasn’t the stellar story itself keeping me up, but I’d feel compelled to keep turning the pages.

Then the next day instead of feeling extra tired like I’d expect, I felt fantastic and was ready to tackle another day. Say what?

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It happened fairly often and I began to greatly look forward to the stillness of a sleeping house and dim lights where it seemed like my book and I were the only thing in existence.

Years passed and I simply referred to it as my reset button and moved on with life. Then one day a few months ago I was exhausted – like I could barely keep my eyes open exhausted. I settled in for the night, but then instead of going to sleep like would be the “smart” thing to do, I pulled out a book.

Then I lay there confused. Why? Why was I reading a book on a night like this? My sister had just gotten married and I didn’t really care about the book I held in my hands. I didn’t really care about anything at that moment, I was just bone-tired. But instead of sleeping I was going to read. And read I did, glancing at my phone every once in a while to watch the hours slide by.

Then it hit me.

My reset button worked when I was more people-tired than I was physically tired. 

I stayed up late at night reading because sleeping didn’t rejuvenate the introverted-need-to-be-alone side of my personality. And sometimes, no matter how worn out I was physically, my people-fatigue trumped all else and, for me, there’s nothing like being the only one awake for miles around and delighting in the complete stillness of the world around me, to find restoration.

Being an introvert is a gift. Being an extrovert is a gift. Being a human is a gift.

Recently I’ve been working on learning about how to manage the various aspects of my personality that make me, me. I’m learning how to use my introvertedness as a tool to help me become a better person.

And do you know what? Having a reset button helps a huge amount. ūüėČ

January From a Bookerly Perspective

January is one of those months that makes me want to do two things: Cooking and Books.

It’s the best when you heat up the house by having the oven going with fresh breadsticks and the stovetop full, and knowing that soon everyone is going to gather around the table to enjoy a big, homemade meal that you just prepared. Cooking in the winter time with snow falling lightly and hues of gray, white, brown, gold, and blue taking over the world creates a cozy atmosphere. It steeps the world in calm and makes me think of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s books.

And then books… What could be more delightful? It’s equally as wonderful to read as to write because winter is¬†the catalyst that makes words build up inside me, eager to escape, but also makes me long to fill my brain with more words.

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My preferred writing setting is to sit at my desk with low lighting – my Christmas lights and salt lamp – soft music playing, a hot beverage standing at attention nearby, a candle filling the room with heavenly scents, and my office clean. It’s not like I’m picky or anything… (insert eye-roll) Really though, I can write in most environments, I just know which environment sparks my muse and sends my imagination off on a flight of happiness.

As for reading? That can happen anywhere, at any time. But, if we’re talking about the cozy winter reading? Then my overstuffed couch, a fuzzy blanket, light snack, and lighting that’s just the right brightness¬†so I can read without straining my eyes wins out.

This will be the first winter in a long time that I’m not going to Florida at least once (last year I went twice). My grandparents live there and since I work from my computer, I generally spent a couple weeks with them a couple times a year. I very much miss not getting to go hang out with them (due to my job at the coffee shop), but I’m delighted to be spending so much of winter in, well, wintery settings.

Do you like winter? Is it wintery where you live?

Writerly Musings

The ideas come at strange times, but I suppose that should be expected considering that I’m thinking and brainstorming about¬†Echoes¬†at random and somewhat strange times.

One of my recent happy breakthroughs took place when I was driving to work – early morning, windows down, music cheering me on. I was singing along with Josh Wilson (I think that’s who it was anyway), happy to be alive, enjoying the long drive, and musing my way through how to make Kios (the country where¬†Echoes¬†takes place) keep true to it’s non-European setting.

By the time I got to work I was nearly wishing my drive had been longer, which happens to be a first for me – at least when it comes to driving to work. When my co-worker asked how my day was going I informed her that it was going great and I’d come up with a needed breakthrough for my writing. She asked if I’d be able to remember it and I assured her I would, then I switched my brain gears and got to work and put bookish things aside for a bit.

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But here I am now – several (busy!) days later, sitting at my desk, Whimsy in my lap, prepared to edit away.

It’s a beautiful day to be editing. (Who are we kidding? It’s a beautiful day even if editing wasn’t on the plate for my morning. Y’all. I know I probably gush about Ohio and how much I appreciate my life here, but it’s seriously amazing. As I blog this morning I’m sitting in front of my window that overlooks a little gravel country road, a newly cut hay field, and a couple of deer munching contentedly right outside my window. But enough of all that.)

This morning reminds me of the years that I’ve taken part in National Novel Writing Month which starts in just two weeks. It makes me think of the delightful hours I spent holed up in my room, drinking coffee and juice, and typing away to my heart’s content – and sometimes far past that.

I’m not planning on doing NaNoWriMo this year, but that doesn’t keep me from feeling nostalgic and wishing I could squeeze it into my life. Maybe today when I’m editing I¬†will¬†pretend that this is already November and I’m taking part in that wonderful month of focused writing. (Shh! Don’t remind me that I’m editing, not writing.)

What are some of the nostaligc feelings that surround you during the lovely month of October?

The Color of Encouragement

Encouragement. It flows freely around me, pools up in my soul, and colors my world with vibrant hues.

This morning it hit me again how much writingish encouragement means to me. All week long I’ve donned an apron¬†each morning and spent hours in the kitchen, preparing food at my non-writng job. As I work, I get to have dozens of short, fun conversations with the people¬†who I’m cooking for. Some of the people I’ve never met before, but some of them I’ve had a working relationship with for several years.

I’ve been amazed over and over again at how many of them have asked me about my writing. (In fact, I just took a break from this blog post to check on how things are going in the kitchen and yet another person asked me about writing.) It means an incredible amount to me that these friends¬†who I only get to see a couple times a year remember our conversations from years past and right away bring up the subject of writing.

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The people who I’m around this week know me mainly as the girl who runs the kitchen and helps keep stuff clean. In fact, I often joke when I meet a new person at work that they won’t ever see me without an apron on, and for the most part that’s true. It’s not uncommon for people to thank me for my work in the kitchen, and even to compliment me on the food, and I really do appreciate that a lot.

Yet, so many of these lovely people have delved deeper, and instead of just asking me about what’s on the menu, they’ve taken the time to ask about me as a person. (Just in case you haven’t caught on to¬†it, anyone who asks more than about¬†two questions about¬†my life automatically hear about my writing.) And, in a way that means even more than hearing about how delicious the food is, because it means they actually care about me, not just the food I help prepare.

I want to be that type of person. I want to encourage others, remember their interests, and engage them in an uplifting conversation, even if it only lasts two minutes. Because do you know what? We all have the ability to inspire and encourage each other. And when we remember what it is that means a lot to someone, then we have the chance to throw sparkling, beautiful encouragement into their lives. And that’s lovely.

That Thing Called Life

Last night I hung out in our hotel room working on a project and listening to my dad talk on the phone. He mentors a couple of guys, and although I don’t generally get to hear his conversations with them, I always find them¬†interesting when I do.

Listening to his wisdom reminded me of how incredibly blessed I am. I’ve had the privilege¬†of growing up in a family where my parents not only encourage us to continually learn and grow, but they also actively work on learning and growing.

One of the verses our family talks about fairly often is Luke 12:48b From everyone who has been given much, much will be required; and to whom they entrusted much, of him they will ask all the more.¬†Living in the a free country with an incredible amount of resources is amazing, and¬†also a huge responsibility. Instead of having to learn everything from our own mistakes, there’s a never ending supply of books, sermons, podcasts, articles, and people we can learn from.

This morning when I opened the Bible to the Proverb for today, the first verse really hit me. Whoso loveth instruction loveth knowledge: but he that hateth reproof is brutish. 

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Although I appreciate¬†being instructed, I’ve struggled for years with accepting and responding¬†well to reproof. I finally discovered that my problem is I see reproof as an indicator that I’ve failed, and I feel like I have to punish myself, therefore I dread it. In reality though no one is perfect, everyone needs to be reproofed, and reproof is a good thing.

I’m so thankful for the people in my life who are able to correct and help me. Life is way too short to have to learn everything on our own by trial and error, plus that would just be incredibly stressful and unhealthy.

Today I am thankful not only to live in a family where I know I’ll be kept accountable and lovingly spurred on to learn and grow, but I’m also very thankful to live in a country where resources are so readily available. Each day is a gift where I can read, listen, ponder, learn, grow, and become more of the person God has called me to be. And that is a huge blessing.

I hope and pray that¬†Noveltea¬†has useful information mixed in with the whimsical musings, writing updates, and life-ish things I post, so that y’all can learn from my life and my mistakes.¬†Hopefully they will help y’all skip over some of the bumps in life that I’ve experienced, so you can go further, faster and live a eternally-significant life.

Happy Monday, y’all!