Wednesday, September 22, 2010

The Work

I've been hinting with each post that my life has had some upheaval, that things are never what they seem and that I will soon be working my way back into the writing world, the community I miss so very much. While all of those statements are vague but true, I have to say it's going to take some work.

Precious planning and baby steps have gotten me to the point where I am at least ready to blog again. I am working more, and spending more time with my children as a single parent. My life has been turned upside down and while I understand the harder times that may befall on me, I am pleased with the new challenges, tasks and life set ahead of me.

Things are slowly working their way back, where I want them to be. Where I've been striving to get to for so long to be honest it *is* hard work.

Not that any one thing that I have to contend with is difficult. I received a new position at my job, it's an adjustment and temporary, but I'm excited nonetheless. A lot of change has come my way in a brief and short four weeks. Being a parent to my children is nothing new, writing is a little over two years old and keeping my house in order is something I did frequently as a stay-at-home mom.

Most of the transition I am feeling is just that... my feelings. And thankfully, for me, I have wonderful people in my life to help me sort out the muckity muck -- the being hard on myself for not being "supermom" right away or even just taking the time it takes to make my way into my new life. I have most of the stuff down pat, which is part of the reason I do become hard on myself, because I do know I can do it. I have done everything I need to take on this new endeavor with flying colors. I am just not ready to do it. It's the waiting that's grating on me (no, I did not mean to rhyme, but it adds a little funness to the post, don't you all agree?) every time I think I get a handle on something, a little pebble comes in and trips me. I stumble a little, but I keep going. I know that only baby steps will get me there, one goal at a time and to be cliche, one foot in front of the other (yes, I know I can do better, but a little cliche goes a long way sometimes.)

There is little that I am afraid of, being stuck in the same place is one of my true fears, it grips me wholly and completely and helps add a certain panic to an already intense situation. But, I believe, once I get over that and start to trust in myself -- know that I am not going to become stuck -- once again, I will find my balance.

Once I accept this, the work will come naturally. And only with work, will I be able to achieve myself.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

The Publishment!

Hey! There's a new poem of mine up at EveryDayPoets! This is one where the editors were very wonderful and worked with me to help me get the poem just right!!

With A Full Heart

Another Love poem, but it has a nice little dark tinge to it!

Thanks for reading!!

Happy Writing!

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

The Break

And it's official. Two months, almost to the day, my brain has ceased to pass words to my fingers. Yes, I've had little blurbs here and there and it's been rough, my life has taken an unscheduled, but absolutely necessary stop. It wasn't a block, it was more of an emotional strike. With all that has been going on, Mackenzie (my muse) had kindly scooted back to the corner to sit within the shadows. She's sipped on red wine in her leather boots, patiently braiding and unbraiding her auburn hair, catching flies between chopsticks, flicking her nails, doing interesting things that she has yet to share with me. Her patience waning.

Before my little break, I was under the assumption that I wrote because I wanted to, not because I had to. I'm not a "have to" kind of person, I've stricken those words from coming cross my lips for several different reasons. Plus, I'd gone many years without writing and while there was a piece of me missing, I wasn't completely unhappy. However, now that I have gone on the great journey, traveling through my mind in a gossamer string of cleverly webbed words, nothing feels the same.

And now, I have to say, I was wrong.

I have to write.

It's not as though I'm suffering from physical withdraw, not at the current moment anyway, it's more of a metaphysical angst. The pain in my heart because I've not written much over the past two months is great, and I never thought I would feel something like this.

Yes, I know, it's different.

The past few days have actually been almost excruciating, Mackenzie whispering small thoughts to me in her fantastic way, buttering me up for the time, in a few days I'm assuming, when I'm ready to jump back on the writing wheel. It's a feeling that is enthralling, yet scary. I'm not one that gives up - breaks are, sometimes, an evil we all may have to endure at one point or another. I'm not beating myself up for it. My RL wouldn't have been able to take the strain of another obstacle added, in my case it was not a decision I made willingly, it just sort of happened. But now, I know, I'm ready for the break to end. It's time, and I believe that with a certain amount of semblance in place that I am ready to take on the words and thoughts, the musings and whispers of my muse. I can only imagine where she will take me, or where I will find myself again. I'm looking forward to it.

Slowly, but surely I will work my way back, I'm ready!

Thursday, September 9, 2010

The Playground...revisited.

Ahhhh, the leaves are changing colors, big yellow monster's are swallowing small children into their bellies, taking them to a place where they will be tortured with books and learnin'. Now, that my children are back in school and life has started to situate itself in the way that it normally does after a typhoid, I would like to revisit and recycle this lovely blog post. It's one of easier times, innocence and the surprising nature of childhood behavior. Please enjoy...

The Playground

Once a month I go to my son's elementary school to help out with lunch-- there are no hairnets or rubber gloves on when I go. The parents help out, its something nice that our school does, the are parent involved and lets the kids know the parents care. It's kind of fun actually.

I don't do anything super great, get spoons and forks when they are needed. Say "Yes" when they ask to go to the bathroom, open up packages or milk if it's warranted.

But as I walk around the lunchroom, the murmurs of children combine together in a cacophonous tone which reverberates off of the walls and I find myself not bothered, instead I tune out the pandemonium and watch.

Children have the most interesting way of doing things. Their minds work in wondrous ways. They allow curiosity of the unknown drive them, not caring about the world around them. If they want to mix chocolate milk and ranch dressing together, eat it (or drink it) they do. They get so excited and proud of the mystery fluid they concocted, they feel the need to tell someone about it. OR if they can't eat the apple their mother packed for them, because their teeth are missing, they figure out another way... using a spoon no less.

Not sure many adults would think of something so far away from the norm. They would, most likely, find a knife and cut the apple in several pieces. It is more practical that way. But kids don't care about practicality, they set their sights and won't worry about the obstacles... they just do.

As we move out to the playground my fascination grows. Watching the girls run as fast as they can, remembering the feeling of the wind whipping through my hair and just how freeing it really felt. Never losing my breath afterward, I would just pick up and start running again. Not bothering with the people surrounding me, not worrying if they were watching me or not. I just ran because it felt good and I liked it.

Kids pick up all sorts of things outside. Amazing things that, to them, are treasures. I have seen them bring small trophies up to the TA with so much excitement they are practically shaking, only to show a sunflower seed someone must have dropped while eating a snack. It doesn't matter, they won't think about where it came from, instead they will place it in their pocket and keep it as a trinket for a short while.

Now that spring is here and the ground is no longer wet, the kids play this marvelous game. I was told it was a twist on dodgeball, because instead of throwing it, you kick the ball. If the other team catches it then the kicker is out.

But these kids changed the rules.

They play differently, they separate into grades, there is no picking... no one is chosen last. One grade on one team, the other grade on the other team. They kick the ball and catch it, and kick it again. No one wins, no one loses, no one scrutinizes, a never ending game of fun.

I'm told that they changed the rules of their own accord, they didn't want anyone's feelings to get hurt and this was their decision. I've been told that teachers and the principal even have tried getting them to play different games ie. football, basketball, soccer. But they always go back to this game... it is incredible really.

I think we forget, when we grow up just how good it feels to not have any worries, to be carefree, yes... not everything is hunky dory for kids. But do you remember what it was like to peddle your bike so fast up the hill that you thought your legs were going to fall off, just to see if you really could jump it at the top? Do you remember how it felt if you did get off the ground, even if it was just a hair? It felt like you were flying...

When does the innocence go away? Why does the outside world effect us so much? Is life really so stressful that we can't just let go and feel the breeze in our hair again? What are we afraid of?