Author: Amy Lyles Wilson

I help people tell the stories they are called to tell through offering a variety of creative and spiritual practices. I facilitate workshops and retreats on such topics as creativity, grief, and spirituality. Published writer and experienced editor. Degrees in English, journalism, and theology. Lover of dogs, coffee, and all things wordsmith-y. Trained in Narrative Healthcare, Amherst Writers & Artists, Spiritual Direction, and SoulCollage®. "It's the sharing of our stories that saves us."

In Which MayBelle Snaps a Photograph of Shawn Colvin and Gets in Trouble

~ Amy Lyles Wilson ~ 1 Comment

MayBelle is a rule follower from way back, and she tries not to cause trouble, especially in public. The other night she and Precious were at the Cheekwood Art Museum and Botanical Gardens in Nashville listening to Shawn Colvin in an outdoor concert. Sort of like Bonnaroo for middle-aged goobers. That would be enough, of course, but there was also a Chihuly exhibit, so it was a two-fer.

Lots of people were taking photographs, so MayBelle, determined to become a shutterbug, hopped up and snapped a few from the sidelines. Soon after, when MayBelle had returned to their picnic spot and resumed her seat next to Precious, a security guard leapt out at her–leapt she tells you!–and berated her for taking photos, saying she should have known better because that rule was listed on the website. MayBelle had not looked at any website, as Precious, the dear, had surprised her with the tickets in honor of their eighth wedding anniversary. The man continued to invade MayBelle’s space and speak harshly to her, all while other concertgoers were taking countless photographs all over the lawn. MayBelle is proud of herself, though, for she did not tear up or let the man intimidate her. Not too much anyway. She apologized and stood her ground.

But she’ll think twice about going to another outdoor concert at Cheekwood, which is too bad because her beloved John Hiatt is scheduled for September. Here are two photos MayBelle took before she was so unjustly harassed and made to feel like a criminal. Okay, that’s a tad melodramatic, MayBelle admits, but it was a sour ending to an otherwise lovely evening.

MayBelle Goes to an Acupuncturist

~ Amy Lyles Wilson

“Does it hurt?” asks MayBelle’s sister as they talk on the phone one afternoon in June. MayBelle is late for her appointment with the acupuncturist, and she should have known better than to call her sister with only ten minutes to spare. Their phone calls last an average of 45 minutes and you can set your digital watch by this. But MayBelle was desperate for a piece of information that only her sister could give her, so she gave it a shot and then ended up being late for her appointment.

“Sort of,” said MayBelle, trying to speak in a whisper as she entered the all-natural health center. She didn’t think cell phones would be appreciated there. “I’ll call you back.”

The truth is, the slight prick of the needles hurts much less than the leg pains MayBelle has been complaining about–don’t you feel sorry for her husband, Precious?!–for two years now. “Nothing wrong with your legs,” says the internist. “Nope,” echoes the orthopedist. So MayBelle has resorted to desperate measures, such as losing weight and giving up artificial sweeteners. Soon she shall have to say goodbye to the powered creamer she keeps in her purse since she can’t tolerate the lactose in the milk at Starbucks. What else will the long-suffering MayBelle have to give up next?

For now, she is feeling a bit better, and vowing to be on top of this “healthy living” approach before she turns 50 in two years. In fact, please remember her fondly  in the morning at 11 when she goes to the physical trainer who seems to forget that MayBelle is 48 and out of shape.

Sticks and Stones…

~ Amy Lyles Wilson

I’m wondering why parents would chastise their children in public, for all those in line to renew our license plates to hear. As soon as the words were out of the father’s mouth, I saw the girl’s face crumple. He was unhappy with her performance in a softball game, and he let her know it in no uncertain terms. I wanted to hug the girl, tell her I bet she did the best she could and that her sandals were cute. Instead, I started thinking about how we speak to one another–in public and at home. How words do hurt. And really, how many of us have had to worry about sticks and stones?
 Read more of my latest post for Her Spirit here…

In Which I Bare All…

~ Amy Lyles Wilson
Her Nashville June 2010

While walking the beach in Fort Morgan, Ala., I see young women who are thin and tan. They wear bikinis and an air of self-assurance. Their long hair is pulled back in ponytails or piled on top of their heads with big plastic clips. I also see middle-aged women, like myself, who are not so thin. Our bodies are covered in sunscreen, and we wear full-coverage, one-piece swimsuits with tummy control. Hats protect our faces from harmful ultraviolet rays. But we, too, seem confident; propelled down the shoreline by beauty of another sort. . .

Read more at Her Nashville magazine…