Your stumble into writing has certainly enriched my life, and I'm sure many others would agree. I laugh and cry and guffaw and wheeze ... then I start readin. My day is never complete anymore until I've read Sean's daily missal. When "Sean of the South" appears in my inbox, all else is dropped (and hopefully, not broken, heh, heh). I'm sorry you've had to write in all those strange places, but I'm so glad you're doing it. Thanks from the bottom of this ol' heart.
I feel the same way Bob. Sean & I always start the morning off today. Sometimes we start off really early… this morning it was at 1:58AM when I woke up having put my most recent read on the nightstand at 12:45, just 1 hr. 13 minutes prior.
Have a good start of your day tomorrow with Sean. Reading his stories always starts the day off in grand fashion… sure hope he doesn’t mind though that I prefer 5-6AM.
And I'd say, God is happily grinning at the sight of you juggling between the music and the writing, and mighty proud of His creation. Keep writing, my friend, that's one of the lovely talents God gifted you with. It would be too sad not to have your daily column in my inbox.
Man plans and God laughs! So true! I just wish I could convince myself that's what's happening. Plus I need to learn to sit still and quiet enough to hear God talking to me through my conscience. Sometimes, he gets through loud and clear, but too often, I'm not listening. Usually during a good part of the day from late morning to mid evening, I'm sitting in front of a computer, looking at the 100+ emails I get a day, posting some of them to my digital news"paper," answering some of them, sharing some of them, and ignoring a large portion of them. I do go for a substantial walk in the morning in our hilly neighborhood, usually for about 2 miles. I need to use that time to listen to God, but no, I've gotten in the habit of counting my steps. Don't ask me how and why, but I count to keep my feet moving. I lose count all the time, but I just start over from some random number, like 62. I'm sure God laughs at me a lot, but if I paid more attention, maybe I wouldn't be so scatter-brained off in all directions at once. Discipline is NOT my forte, nor is patience nor focus. And God needs to be a bit louder and clearer to keep me focused. This was a procrastination from starting a new article. Shame on me! But thanks for your daily messages, Sean. They are always a treat!
Sit and rock on a front porch with no digital stuff anywhere!!! Then, before you know it that wonderfully creative brain will gather its own good stuff!! Voila.
Once I got started on the article, it is really flowing! So I guess the short procrastination helped me get it going! I love rocking chairs. I've always had one in every house we ever had. i still have my mom's old rocking chair that I used to sit in to do homework, even though the arms were in the way. :-)
Without realizing it, your walks are actually a form of meditation. Counting steps is a good way to focus and become "no mind." It's obviously working!
No slight seen. I understood what you meant. I guess I enjoy that "no mind" feeling. And thanks, I hadn't thought of it as meditation, since sometimes I walk with friends and I usually go farther on those days, because I'm not looking at my watch as often to see how far I've gone. So even when I'm in the "no mind" phase, my brain is still concentrating on getting those dang two miles, even on days when I don't want to, but make myself.
I hope you no longer have any doubts whatsoever about what you were meant to do. The fact that you write in all those widely varied settings says it all. A person who is meant to write, writes, no matter what. Those who are not meant to write, can have the most beautiful place in which to work, and still cannot do it. Just keep going!
That is true about writing. I"ve tried to get published, but so far (I'm 80), no bites. But I don't stop writing. Can't. By now, it's a habit, an obsession, the way my brain works.
I absolutely love fiddle/violin music. My father played the violin until he had a terrible car accident in his twenties, injuring his left hand, leaving it, for the most part, nonfunctioning. It was a challenging time, but he never let it dampen his love for music. Instead, he passed his passion for the violin on to me, a testament to his resilience and love for the art.
On a different note, but somewhat related, I laughed at your comment, "Not trained as a writer." Most great artists aren't necessarily trained at their craft. They are born with a talent and love for a certain thing, and along the way, they master their craft little by little. An acquaintance recently told me, "For not being a real writer, your writing is amazing." The comment entered like an arrow to the heart. "Not a real writer?" I dismissed it immediately because, in her own way, she was trying to pay me a compliment. I am convinced that she would be remorseful if she realized that what she said came as an insult. Yesterday, as I began working in my garden (always healing to have your hands in the dirt), I considered the comment and began to examine it. I thought about how many great artists never formally studied their craft, and some of the greatest didn't become great until long after they were gone. I said out loud to the flowers surrounding me, "What the hell does that even mean? Not a real writer?" And I'll tell you what, my spirit guide/guardian angel came to the rescue. She answered the question in my mind in no uncertain terms, ending with, "You're a damn good writer, and don't you forget it. Remember where you got your talent from. No degree can match the raw talent." I love that gal. And this may sound like I'm patting myself on the back, heaven forbid, but I'm confident many writers on Substack can benefit from this story. We are all on a journey of self-discovery and acceptance. Cheers to all the artists!
Sue, thanks for tagging me to read this post. Funny you bring up the notion of not being a trained writer, I just mentioned that to a friend the other day. That I wasn't trained, educated, that I didn't study literature and poetry and the classics, as to diminish my worth as a writer. And yes, what the hell does that statement of not being a real writer even mean?!
Sue and Paulette...as far as I am concerned...to answer your questioin as to 'What is a REAL writer?'...it's simply people like yourselves who put your life journey and heartfelt thoughts and trials and tribulations down on a piece of parper....then at some point in time....those REAL words will tocuh an unknown readers heart and soul because YES- they too just like you felt ervey REAL word that you took the time to share with others. Thank you for doing what God has blessed you with. Everyone has their own story!! "Santa| Steve
Love “the feral cats looking for their dying mother.” No one but a true storyteller could come up with that! Keep writing your stories, Sean. It’s just another art form you were born to do!
That about God laughing is one of my favorite quotes! So many of us are blessed by your writing. your performances, your life, your story. God had His own plans for you. YAY, God!!
A gracious good evening and happy Monday to all yall. Sean baby, I would love to hear ya play the banjo again (my fav). I saw your train wreck (your words) in Alex City a while back.
Good stuff ! Anywho. You keep on a pickin and we'll keep on a grinnin. Yall have a splendiferous night and ...
I’m getting your missives in my email about 5:30 each afternoon. Used to read them as part of my morning routine. Now you’re a last happy thought before sleep. Thanks for being great at either end of the day. And just in case you decide to pursue the notion…Don’t try to figure out what you’re doing. How you’re doing it now is just perfect, thank you.
Sean, I just love your simple stories about life, and people, and well, you! They always make me smile, except when they make me cry. But it seems as though many of your stories have the same theme that “people matter” and we are better for having interacted with them. Thanks Sean, for deciding that writing was your calling. The world is a better place because of your decision.
Your stumble into writing has certainly enriched my life, and I'm sure many others would agree. I laugh and cry and guffaw and wheeze ... then I start readin. My day is never complete anymore until I've read Sean's daily missal. When "Sean of the South" appears in my inbox, all else is dropped (and hopefully, not broken, heh, heh). I'm sorry you've had to write in all those strange places, but I'm so glad you're doing it. Thanks from the bottom of this ol' heart.
I feel the same way Bob. Sean & I always start the morning off today. Sometimes we start off really early… this morning it was at 1:58AM when I woke up having put my most recent read on the nightstand at 12:45, just 1 hr. 13 minutes prior.
Have a good start of your day tomorrow with Sean. Reading his stories always starts the day off in grand fashion… sure hope he doesn’t mind though that I prefer 5-6AM.
I thought the difference between a violin and a fiddle is that a violin has STRINGS, and a fiddle has STRANGS (said with a true Southern accent)!.
True dat. Like a bull fiddle or a bass violin
Lol, good one, Sandi
Smiles across the miles, Susie!
And I'd say, God is happily grinning at the sight of you juggling between the music and the writing, and mighty proud of His creation. Keep writing, my friend, that's one of the lovely talents God gifted you with. It would be too sad not to have your daily column in my inbox.
Thank you God for Sean Dietrich & the stories he shares on a daily basis. 🙏🏼
Proverbs 19:21
Many plans are in a man’s heart,
But the counsel of the Lord will stand.
Man plans and God laughs! So true! I just wish I could convince myself that's what's happening. Plus I need to learn to sit still and quiet enough to hear God talking to me through my conscience. Sometimes, he gets through loud and clear, but too often, I'm not listening. Usually during a good part of the day from late morning to mid evening, I'm sitting in front of a computer, looking at the 100+ emails I get a day, posting some of them to my digital news"paper," answering some of them, sharing some of them, and ignoring a large portion of them. I do go for a substantial walk in the morning in our hilly neighborhood, usually for about 2 miles. I need to use that time to listen to God, but no, I've gotten in the habit of counting my steps. Don't ask me how and why, but I count to keep my feet moving. I lose count all the time, but I just start over from some random number, like 62. I'm sure God laughs at me a lot, but if I paid more attention, maybe I wouldn't be so scatter-brained off in all directions at once. Discipline is NOT my forte, nor is patience nor focus. And God needs to be a bit louder and clearer to keep me focused. This was a procrastination from starting a new article. Shame on me! But thanks for your daily messages, Sean. They are always a treat!
Sit and rock on a front porch with no digital stuff anywhere!!! Then, before you know it that wonderfully creative brain will gather its own good stuff!! Voila.
Once I got started on the article, it is really flowing! So I guess the short procrastination helped me get it going! I love rocking chairs. I've always had one in every house we ever had. i still have my mom's old rocking chair that I used to sit in to do homework, even though the arms were in the way. :-)
I guess the arms were around you!
Wrapped up in The Arms of God✝️
Oh, thank you, Julie RN. That is special!
Thanks. I guess they were. I graduated, after all. :-)
Without realizing it, your walks are actually a form of meditation. Counting steps is a good way to focus and become "no mind." It's obviously working!
To clarify, no "slight" intended there, BTW.
No slight seen. I understood what you meant. I guess I enjoy that "no mind" feeling. And thanks, I hadn't thought of it as meditation, since sometimes I walk with friends and I usually go farther on those days, because I'm not looking at my watch as often to see how far I've gone. So even when I'm in the "no mind" phase, my brain is still concentrating on getting those dang two miles, even on days when I don't want to, but make myself.
I hope you no longer have any doubts whatsoever about what you were meant to do. The fact that you write in all those widely varied settings says it all. A person who is meant to write, writes, no matter what. Those who are not meant to write, can have the most beautiful place in which to work, and still cannot do it. Just keep going!
That is true about writing. I"ve tried to get published, but so far (I'm 80), no bites. But I don't stop writing. Can't. By now, it's a habit, an obsession, the way my brain works.
I’m older than you but I too am a compulsive, self published writer. We write for the love of writing. I can’t explain it but it’s true.
Sometimes writers (and artists) have to wait to be "discovered". Keep on keepin' on!
I absolutely love fiddle/violin music. My father played the violin until he had a terrible car accident in his twenties, injuring his left hand, leaving it, for the most part, nonfunctioning. It was a challenging time, but he never let it dampen his love for music. Instead, he passed his passion for the violin on to me, a testament to his resilience and love for the art.
On a different note, but somewhat related, I laughed at your comment, "Not trained as a writer." Most great artists aren't necessarily trained at their craft. They are born with a talent and love for a certain thing, and along the way, they master their craft little by little. An acquaintance recently told me, "For not being a real writer, your writing is amazing." The comment entered like an arrow to the heart. "Not a real writer?" I dismissed it immediately because, in her own way, she was trying to pay me a compliment. I am convinced that she would be remorseful if she realized that what she said came as an insult. Yesterday, as I began working in my garden (always healing to have your hands in the dirt), I considered the comment and began to examine it. I thought about how many great artists never formally studied their craft, and some of the greatest didn't become great until long after they were gone. I said out loud to the flowers surrounding me, "What the hell does that even mean? Not a real writer?" And I'll tell you what, my spirit guide/guardian angel came to the rescue. She answered the question in my mind in no uncertain terms, ending with, "You're a damn good writer, and don't you forget it. Remember where you got your talent from. No degree can match the raw talent." I love that gal. And this may sound like I'm patting myself on the back, heaven forbid, but I'm confident many writers on Substack can benefit from this story. We are all on a journey of self-discovery and acceptance. Cheers to all the artists!
Sue, thanks for tagging me to read this post. Funny you bring up the notion of not being a trained writer, I just mentioned that to a friend the other day. That I wasn't trained, educated, that I didn't study literature and poetry and the classics, as to diminish my worth as a writer. And yes, what the hell does that statement of not being a real writer even mean?!
Sue and Paulette...as far as I am concerned...to answer your questioin as to 'What is a REAL writer?'...it's simply people like yourselves who put your life journey and heartfelt thoughts and trials and tribulations down on a piece of parper....then at some point in time....those REAL words will tocuh an unknown readers heart and soul because YES- they too just like you felt ervey REAL word that you took the time to share with others. Thank you for doing what God has blessed you with. Everyone has their own story!! "Santa| Steve
Thank you, Steve!
She BIT you??!!!
Love “the feral cats looking for their dying mother.” No one but a true storyteller could come up with that! Keep writing your stories, Sean. It’s just another art form you were born to do!
That about God laughing is one of my favorite quotes! So many of us are blessed by your writing. your performances, your life, your story. God had His own plans for you. YAY, God!!
A gracious good evening and happy Monday to all yall. Sean baby, I would love to hear ya play the banjo again (my fav). I saw your train wreck (your words) in Alex City a while back.
Good stuff ! Anywho. You keep on a pickin and we'll keep on a grinnin. Yall have a splendiferous night and ...
Peace
I'm sure everyone has a life story. Yours is just a tad more interesting that most....and you tell it so well!
I’m getting your missives in my email about 5:30 each afternoon. Used to read them as part of my morning routine. Now you’re a last happy thought before sleep. Thanks for being great at either end of the day. And just in case you decide to pursue the notion…Don’t try to figure out what you’re doing. How you’re doing it now is just perfect, thank you.
It’s good to do all the catching up you can on those nice, early mornings.
Reminds me of the "Bite Fight" in 1997 when Mike Tyson bit off part of Evander Hollyfield's ear. I'm getting old recalling that.
No you aren’t. I remember it too. 😉
Sean, I just love your simple stories about life, and people, and well, you! They always make me smile, except when they make me cry. But it seems as though many of your stories have the same theme that “people matter” and we are better for having interacted with them. Thanks Sean, for deciding that writing was your calling. The world is a better place because of your decision.