Blogger: Mary Keeley
Location: Books & Such Illinois Office
Our senses pick up countless stimuli during the day. Some we’re aware of, some we aren’t. And who knows what our sensory radar picks up while we sleep? Be alert to your sensory reactions as I relay the following account.
I’ve always thought I’m adequately cognizant of my reactions to what I see, hear, touch, smell, and taste, but when tragedy hit close to home recently, I became aware on a deeper level. Because of advancing scoliosis, Kylie, a six-foot tall college super-athlete, planned to spend the summer before her junior year undergoing surgery and rehabilitation to correct her condition. However, when the surgeons stopped halfway through what seemed like a normal procedure to check her status, they discovered the extremely rare risk in this surgery had happened to Kylie. She had become paralyzed.
This news triggered a multitude of emotional responses for me because I’ve known Kylie since she was born. Her hard work earned her scholarship offers in two sports. But she’s now utilizing that work ethic in her physical therapy sessions and is realizing glimpses of hope that movement will return for her. But unless it’s God’s plan to bring glory to himself by healing her, she will have to define herself in a new way.
How well do you really know yourself as a writer? This week I’ll bring up potential triggers to the senses that writers should pay attention to because they can prompt writing ideas. Some are right in your face, like this story. Some could be more subtle, even subliminal.
What subtle reactions did you experience as you read about Kylie’s experience? Visual images, emotions, even sounds or smells?
How might you use awareness of your senses to brighten your writing?
Did this exercise give you insight into solving a writing problem you’re currently dealing with?
Mary, I’m so very sorry…I stopped and prayed for Kylie just now.
Three years ago, as he began a promising, new career, a dear cousin of mine became quadriplegic through an unexpected accident.
Human suffering, both near and afar, is never easy to witness. As you talked about Kylie, I recalled my initial reactions when learning about my cousin. There are no words…
I feel things deeply, and I’ve come to realize that instead of internalizing what I don’t understand, I first pray, then I write. Unfortunately, when we, ourselves, struggle through the muck and mire of the yucky side of life that’s what makes us better writers.
A crazy, frustrated day leaned on me. I do what I always do and turn to writing to work it out. The craziness of the day came out in a short story I called, “Swine and Snow,” and used the psychology of waiting to drive my main character crazy.
My reactions to this blog are far from subtle. My sister-in-law was also tall and had scoliosis; she died unexpectedly from Marfan Syndrome, a connective tissue disorder typically causing unusual height. My first thought was that surely Kylie has been tested; my second thought was how much I wish someone had raised the question in our case.
Meanwhile, my prayer is that Kylie will sense increased tingling in her extremities that eventually turns into purposeful movement. May her life be a testimony to God’s power.
Shalom, Kylie.
This story pulls on my heart strings, especially for someone
so young. Although it sounds horribly cliche, God is in control
and works all things to the good of those who love Him.
Experiences in life can be a great inspiration, even something
as common as a bedtime conversation with your little one. It
was this very thing that inspired me to write a children’s book
series, just a simple conversation with my little girl. I know God
had a big hand in it too.
Thanks for sharing the story of your friend. I’ll be praying for
her.
My heart goes out to Kylie and her family during this challenging time. I can only imagine what they are going though.
As a mother, my thoughts immediately went to my own children. What would we do if this happened to one of them? How could we cope? Would our faith be strong enough to make it through such a sudden and monumental change?
I could hear hospital monitors. I could almost imagine the looks on the doctors’ faces when they realized what happened. I realized I had stopped breathing at the moment they knew something was wrong.
More of my writing problems revolve around time to sit and write lately. Actually, there are times when I realize my children will only be little so long, and I wonder if the time I spend in front of my computer should be spent on them instead? Between my day job and my writing, it seems the computer gets to spend more time with me than anyone else in the house.
I will be lifting Kylie and her family up in prayer. Thank you for sharing their story.
Thank you for your sensitive, caring thoughts about Kylie. You show that authors who are aware of their “sensory sensibilities” FEEL on a deep level, and as Cynthia said, “that makes you better writers.”
Wow, that story is heartbreaking to read. I found myself slipping into her skin–feeling the frustration of not being able to do what I wanted. An eye-opening exercise, for sure. I look forward to reading your posts this week, Mary. Thanks for a great start.
I found your blog thanks to a Tweet by Diann Mills.
My first reaction was a visceral one–a gasp of “Oh, no.”
And then as my eyes swept the rest of the words, I zeroed in on the word “hope.” How we survive on even “glimpses” of hope when faced with daunting challenges.
Feelings and faith — so often intertwined.
As someone who has spent a lot of time at bedsides with people facing personal health tragedy, the first “sense” that came to mind from this story was the sense of smell. Hospitals. Physical therapy facilities. They smell … unique.
Years ago, I entered a quilt challenge and the challenge fabric was mauve. I had it in my home for a few days and realized that I couldn’t work with that color. It made me physically naseous. Why? I finally realized that every hospital my dying husband had ever been in used mauve in the halls, carpet, rooms, etc. I hate that color to this day, even though I know why … and that it’s kind of irrational. But that connection doesn’t die.
Neither did my husband in the only sense that matters. I’ll see him again in heaven.
Frustration . . . hope . . . smells . . . mauve–great sensory sensibility sleuthing–and . . . joy ahead for Stephanie.
Mary, I could feel your sadness as you told Kylie’s story. I sense she’s someone you know very well and love a lot. It is SO painful to watch someone you love suffer and come to grips with a new reality they never imagined and do not want.
May God wrap Kylie in His love, but also you and all those who care for this young woman. I don’t know how, but I am sure He will breathe a new purpose into Kylie.
I have a quote over my desk, but I don’t know where it came from–and I love it. “Who knows but that God will not use your weaknesses even more than your strengths?”
Lenore, I appreciate your sensitive sensibilities. Your senses are obviously alert. Thanks for your prayer for Kylie too. That quote is a keeper. Great reminder and leveler.