Heads or tails? Thoughts on writing...

On my mind:
the snap in the air-- the kind you can taste between your teeth and feel in your nostrils.
Blazing yellow and fire-red leaves, pumpkin spice bread, writing, and Stephen King.

Stephen King, I saw him speak and read the other night here in Boulder to promote his new book Dr. Sleep, the sequel to the Shining. Raw inspiration is the least I can say about him. Some of the greatest stories have come out of this man, and to hear him speak about writing is enough to fuel any fledgling for months, maybe years. This isn't the exact quote from the other night, but it's still a quote of his with the same message (one that we've all heard before most likely):

“If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot. There’s no way around these two things that I’m aware of, no shortcut.”

He also said something else (I paraphrase)-- "if you aren't compelled to write everyday, then maybe you aren't meant to be a writer, which is fine because it just means you were meant to do something else."

I've been thinking about this last part ever since. Lately, I have been falling into the category of not being "compelled" to write. It's certainly not because I have nothing to write about. It's been the opposite actually. My days have been filled with a variety of things, both terrific and trying, and certainly worth telling. But I've held onto most of it for inexplicable reasons. Maybe it's a privacy reflex--a need to keep things to myself for awhile (that happens periodically I noticed). Or something else. There's a jagged edge that's been gnawing at the fringes lately for awhile. A sobering thought: perhaps I'm not meant to be the writer I once believed I could be.

So perhaps I should just leave it at that. I'm a fair-weather writer and write when the muse sings or when the "genius" arrives, or when I feel like it. No pressure to perform, no blocks to hurl, no deadlines to dread, no insatiable need to leave my pawprint on paper. The truth is, I've never had a gigantic urge to be published. To just be decent was enough, and to have touched a few with the words I share was miles above what I ever expected. 

Or.

Is there a deeper truth? One grafted with "fear of failure" and "insecurity", infecting the growth of bigger dreams? Ego fiddles with my self-assurance, gives me a smirk and tosses me a coin saying "is it heads or is it tails, cause you can't have both." As I clasp my fingers around the coin, I can feel the burning hot truth turn to ash, leaving me still with nothing but a thought.

"I am what I am what I am." ~ Popeye

When I do unravel, when the words flow, they organically wind towards truths that have been haphazardly flung into an ocean filled by time past and present. Once recovered, when the fingers fly and when words collide, writing can unearth hope and possiblity, and plant seeds of courage. Here, writing finds the person I could be and though I admit she scares me, she is the bait that keeps me hungry every single time.

I think what it comes down to is the belief we hold in our hearts, and there are no rules to what we want to believe. Today, I am enough as a writer, and I find hope in words that show up when they feel like it. And every now and then when I cast a line out into the ocean, something special nibbles on the other end, reminding me that the courage to break any walls that stops the flow is out there, whenever I am ready. 

Monday love

xoxo

Sway

I needed this long weekend badly. I've slowed from a rampant rabbity run to a turtle's rhythmic and grounding sway. If I pause long enough, I can hear my heart skip a beat on the truly remarkable things. The hairs on my arm will stand on end, reaching for the vibrations that escape the naked eye. The smell of acrylic on canvas, the sound of a paint brush as it fills the grooves. Painting together, my children and I shared wordlessly in these wonders. They did not see me beaming in my quiet joy.

It was the girl's birthday party this weekend. Friends and neighbors joined in and my happiness for her swirled endlessly like the white curls on her beautiful birthday cake. Yes, it has been a very good weekend.



I've been looking upon myself with gentler eyes lately. Fear has been unusually quiet and I wonder what I've done to deserve this reprieve. Perhaps it's not a question of deserving, but more a condition of ripening as the worthy journey of finding voice and flow continues. Faith does have a way of helping us forget that we were once afraid to fly. And I find myself leaning in further as the long yellow petals of bloom reaches for me still.

Monday love to you, and Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day...

xoxo

Weekending with  Amanda...

ps. thanks for all your lovely words on my last post!!

What's going on here

Sometimes I liken my brain to a crowded train station full of traveling feelings, working hard to get to where they need to go. Often times they get stuck, delayed, or off on the wrong train. I can usually stand in the corner and watch these feelings pass by me. I see every single one, but most I may ignore until they are really lost. Then, if I choose to, I can tap them on the shoulder and show them the way out. The choice is always mine. The past couple days, I have been letting them stay lost. I really am not ready to get out from underground yet, but I know it's time.

Worry was here:
Little M. was in the E.R. this weekend. She's been really sick for the past 5 days with a terribly insidious stomach virus. She is finally getting better now thank goodness, but she hadn't eaten and barely drank anything for 4 days. She has lost so much weight, her body is like a thin and fragile wire frame. She is gaining strength now, though I feel like an eager food pusher watching her every move. I don't have to tell you what that's like, to see your babe get so sick and have every worst scenario enter your mind.

Joy passed by:
We have a contract on the house :). We found this out the same day I was in the hospital with M., so while I was grappling with worry, joy passed by.  What's left is some cautious optimism, we need a good appraisal for this contract to stick. Now we wait, and hope...

Fear came back:
Please forgive this bluntness, there is no soft way to write this. One of our young neighbors (14) may have been violated sexually on Sunday. I can't seem to type the other word. She was alone at home, there were six teenage boys, and it was the middle of the day. We don't know all the facts yet, but what we do know is enough. My heart goes out to her and her family. And now you know what I've been sitting with the past couple days.  My blinds have remained drawn and the doors locked. I had worked hard to get comfortable enough to let E. play on the driveway or in the front yard without constant vigilance. And now that is lost, fear has returned, and I am tired from the swirl of emotions that has flooded me this past weekend.

And now where to go from here. I know I get to say when enough is enough. Good and bad things happen, and we get to decide what we dwell upon, how we dwell upon them and how long. I am back at the train station, and the choice is still mine. Today, I have decided it will be different. Perhaps not normal, but better. Today I will seek out joy, I will seek out fun, I will seek out faith and happiness, and I will help these emotions find their way out. Today, my blinds will be opened. Today we will play outside. Today I will not worry about M and her weight. Today I will not dwell on what may or may not happen. Today I will remember the sweet things in life, and I will pray for peace and solace to those who need it most. And then today, I will remember to smile :)...

much love and joy to you...
xx oo

"Faith is knowledge within the heart, beyond the reach of proof." ~ Kahlil Gibran

In a culture obsessed with proof, I gladly float among uncertainty.  I gladly look upon my children in wonder, knowing that I have no idea of what they will become.  I confess that I sometimes make choices out of fear, or let other people's fear seep into mine.  But, that fear is no longer blind.  I can stare fear in the face and boldly challenge it, knowing there is nothing I need to prove to anyone.  I gladly concede my need to prove--prove that I am a good mom, prove that I am making the right decisions, prove that my children will be happy one day, or successful.  I gladly concede that need to prove, for faith and trust in them, in me, and in the nature of all things. 

What I will offer instead of proof, is a promise to myself and to them.  My promise is that I will always give them my best.  And to them, I promise that they will never need to prove anything to me beyond what they need to prove to themselves.  If they can find worth from within, not from anyone else, and if they can find the ability to face fears, climb them, and then maybe turn them into something good, then I know my faith has prevailed beyond any burden of proof.

Hope everyone had a beautiful, peaceful weekend :)!!