The Mystery
Fill your pockets with rocks,
Take the ocean home
a
drop
at
a
time,
Reel in the moon
And the stars
Of a million-million years.
You are alone.
Shovel sand into a hole
That won’t fill, forever
And haul all of the twigs
From all of the forests,
From all of the places
You Must See.
You are still alone.
It will remain unfound, unsolved,
No answer. Though much effort expended in looking.
Alone.
You may find
After all of this busyness, bewilderment,
Exhaustion,
Along side you,
Me.
I have a confession to make. I am guessing it will come as no surprise to you, my 5 readers, that I have been feeling creatively challenged. Or maybe it’s creatively misdirected. Or maybe it’s creatively drained. Anyway, I’m certainly lacking in clarity and this is effecting my ability to create. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been plenty productive professionally. I just haven’t been here writing. I haven’t been in my journal writing. I haven’t been scribbling little bits of nauseating poetry on napkins. In fact, I haven’t even written a grocery list in ages. I did however, find one in the parking lot of the local grocery store. The list had a little cherry sticker on it and ordinary items. I think the list maker was having salad that night. I hope they lost the list on the way out and not on the way in. I always find that to be frustrating, when I take the time to write the list and then misplace it. We all know how winging it in the grocery store goes. When I picked the notepaper up, I looked around to see if anyone was watching. It felt valuable to me. I picked it up, read it , shoved it in my purse, thinking it might inspire me to do something creative. But, I have since lost it. I thought I would write something about lost things and then I lost the thing. ha.
I digress.
I saw a snippet in passing on twitter or somewhere that writer’s block is a myth. Where was that? Ahhh, it was here on WordPress, writelarawrite. (She has made some lovely art to illustrate the point. You should check it out.) I didn’t really want to read it. I knew what was coming. I’m not creating because I am not creating. Simple as that, not because I had lost my need or lost the ability but, because I was being lazy. I thought I would just wait for inspiration and genius to strike.
Hard work is involved? Commitment? Consistency? I, somehow thought loving it would make it easy. What the hell? Where did that come from? Aren’t I the mother of two teenagers, married for 20 years, sharing a home with a bull terrier? If you love it, if it’s meant to be, it will be easy. I have to laugh. How could I think it would just happen? It seems to be a recurring theme in pretty much any ‘I am successful at (fill in the blank)’ story. You have to put your time in, keep doing it until you get good at it, do it when no one cares or listens or reads. I’m here to write because I love it and because maybe other people get lost or lose things and they shouldn’t feel alone.
So, I’ll just write and maybe you can find whatever your It is and then share it, with me.
Today’s Writing
I came across this website/project, brainpickings and Love it so. I wanted to share it. And also, some other cool spots, I have found. And why I like them all.
What have you found lately that inspires you? I’d love to hear from you. Share any links to websites you love in the comments and I will check them out!
The car behind me was on my bumper. The dog was panting. I’m going to say excessively. My son found the dog annoying and began to complain loudly about how stressed he was feeling. I wasn’t. It just didn’t bother me. Any of it. On this one particular morning, I had my bubble with me. My calm, easy-going, duck back. You know, where you can shrug things off. Not that this was really much to breathe through, just a little distracting. However, it was very bothersome to my son and there are days, where I might have been ranting with him. Just not today. So, we talked a little about his agitation. I said wise things like, ‘You gotta let the little things go and save the stress for times, like when, a Pterodactyl swoops down and attacks your family.’ Which of course, derailed the conversation for a bit, while he informed me how that would be impossible. He said wise things like, ‘It’s even debatable whether there were saber tooth tigers around.’ I replied, ‘Well, whatever, golden eagles, grizzly bears, they’re around. If they were in the back seat panting, we would be right to feel some stress. ‘ Golden eagles don’t pant.’ He says. Still my blood pressure remains steady. You’ve got to find and hold your own space and not let the dog, or the driver, or the weather, or whatever get in there and ruffle your feathers. He says, ‘yah, well, I’m still glad I’m not riding back home with that dog in the car.’
After the quiet retreat of winter in Northern Michigan, folks tend to get a bit edgy come March. The subtle changes in weather call out for movement. There is extra energy, more light. Some call it spring fever or March madness, for me, it is a transition, a waking up. I feel ready to be moving on to the next season but, winter is not quite done with me and that is frustrating. So, I bought myself a bunch of roses. Because, I am missing warmer weather. Because, I am missing being outside and feeling the warmth of the sun. As I stood looking at the flowers in the grocery store, I said to the women standing next to me, “I am going to make it spring inside.”
I have no control over the weather. I have nothing left inside that allows me to appreciate snow. The quiet. The long evenings and dark mornings. The stark white fields and monochromatic skies. Stew, slippers, fire, snowshoes have lost their appeal, until next December. It is no good wishing for another season. Spring has yet to arrive. The trick is to be present but, also honor the readiness for change. In this, I can make it through the end of winter. And while I wait, I do the best I can to be ok with where I am. I make it spring inside. I sit in the window where the sun pours in, though it is still 20* outside and soak it in. In the afternoon when the temperatures get in the high 30’s I make sure to get outside and listen to the birdsong and feel the hope that it will be spring soon.
Until then, heat up with a winter poem by my new favorite poet, Tyler Knott Gregson.
It’s the bits in the middle that get to the heart of it, the meat of the thing. Of course, birth and death are not to be discounted. They are dramatic events. Necessary events. But, life is in the middle, in between the bookends. The everyday. And boy, is it short, this life.
Start the Ride
And then, the topic of death kept circling, this week. It popped up in conversation with a client of mine who wants to promote her book on physician assisted suicide and end of life decisions. It came to me in a blog post about grief and loss. The radio show about death and dying, an actor reading chapters from David Eagleman’s Sum. My husband and his life-long obsession with his funeral playlist. What is that about? I took notice. It was too much coincidence, all this talk about dying. What’s all this noise about? To bring me back to present, to say, “no thanks, that’s not for us”? And the songs to play at his funeral? Well, maybe that is more like his soundtrack for our lives.
And then, I remember standing outside the hospital with our newborn son, who is in his last few months of high school, now. We are taking him home. And I am not sure it is a good idea. The car seat is fiddly. The baby starts to fuss. He is so tiny and perfect. We start to bicker. Grandma says, “How do I know? It’s been 20 years. They didn’t have car seats when you were a baby.” I look back to the door of the hospital, sure that a nurse will appear to take our child back to safety. Nope, you’re definitely not ready. Somehow we got him into the car seat but, he was howling. Mom, Dad and Grandma settled in the car with screaming baby and not a clue. And then, we remember that music is supposed to soothe a crying a baby. We had read it in What to Expect When Expecting or recalled it from lamaze class. It doesn’t matter how it came to us. It came to us. The cassette, yes cassette, goes on. The baby quiets down. Queue track # 10 in the funeral playlist, Devo Going Under. And we begin for him and continue for us, the bit in the middle. Life. And really, it’s all on the fly.
Skip forward, the baby is turning 18. We have done so many things together. He is going out there to do more. And it was so fast, from that day with the car seat to this day. His little brother is right behind him. I hold excitement, fear, joy, love and anticipation all at once for what life will bring for these boys. And I hold Mary Oliver’s words in mind for us all, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
I recently launched my own business, L-Co, specializing in communications, media, helping people realize their dreams. Here are my thoughts so far on my own dream job. I just ate a whole bag of cheese popcorn and other complications of working from home.
Just the Cheese Corn
Yes, I ate the better part of the bag. It was really good popcorn. I kept munching away. There was no one around to make me feel self conscious or to ask for a share. I work at home. I am alone for the better part of the day. Unless, like the past month, when the people that I live with weren’t at their various schools or jobs.
The housemates add an entirely different complication to this working at home business. For instance, due to inclement weather, the kids have been home quite a bit. They are about the house, watching movies that always have some loud battle scene or space traveling sound effects. When that finishes, they are ‘playing’ with the dog, which involves getting her wound up, running around the house and some yelling and barking- not always coming from the dog- if you get the picture. It is unpleasant outdoors. So, they are trapped in here, in my office singing a chorus of questions, ‘What is there to eat?’, ‘What are you doing?’, ‘What should I do?’, ‘What can I eat?’, ‘When will Dad be home?’, ‘What’s for dinner?’ This is usually, where I snap and insist they go outside to shovel some snow or something. Suggesting a chore can usually buy me some time. At the mention of any type of work, they will slink off and remain quiet for a bit, in hopes that I will forget they are home, doing nothing.
June The Distractor
But, most days, I am home by myself, with a whole other set of distractions. Like the G.H. Cretors Just the Cheese Corn deliciousness, which according to their website is only helping me celebrate The National Snacking Month of February. Great. Other distractions including but not limited to: my pull toward domestic chores and my lack of defined office space and my yoga mat, which you already know is my napping spot and the dog has done something cute, naughty, gross, that I need to photograph. How could you not? The cute factor gets me every time.
So, How with all of this going on do I stay focused and get things done? Aside from the Cheese Corn for which I have no excuse or remedy, these are some methods that are working for me and some resources on the topic of staying focused and organized while working from home.
I spent a long time locked into a 9-5 job working in an office and manufacturing setting. It is absolutely amazing and thrilling to me to be freed from one single workplace. I love the flexibility of working from home. I love the technology that allows me to take my office anywhere. I love the fact that the things that distract me from my work are the things that I love most and if the dog gets too cute, I can always go to the nearby coffee shop.
Yesterday, I had the pleasure to view the premiere of the film, The Coexist Comedy Tour at the Traverse City Winter Comedy Festival. A friend offered me tickets and since I’m all about saying, “yes” more. I said, “Yes!” It was a wild wintery day. Brilliant, blinding sunshine followed by grey heavy clouds and white-out snow bursts and then sun again. And downtown Traverse City was humming with life. It was such a boost to be out with humanity wearing sunglasses and snow boots. I loved it!
So, about the film. “When a Jew, a Christian, a Muslim, a Hindu, a Buddhist, and an atheist walk into a bar… What in God’s name could possibly go wrong? After one comic bails, a live comedy concert film that started as an exercise in co-existence turns into a documentary, as the filmmakers desperately go in search of a funny Christian”. The film is Directed by Larry Brand, produced by Leland, Michigan locals Rebecca Reynolds and Jim Carpenter and stars comedians of the main world religions and an Atheist working it out with humor, including the ‘funny Christian’, John Fugelsang. It was refreshing, hilarious and unexpectedly, kind of touching.
As we, the humans, acclimatize to this relatively new cross-cultural, mass communicating, global community maybe humor can help bring us greater understanding of each other? And if not, at least, there is a laugh in it.
Do you know what really gets me? And other things that mess with my Chi/Zen/ Calm Mind/ Whatever…
Being human has its complications and this is true for all of us, not just me. I really need to remember this truth. When I am thinking, ‘What the hell is wrong with that guy?’ or ‘Why on earth did I do/say/think that?’ T
his is the time to remember, being human is complicated. Our brains are rather busy places.
I was dropping my son off at school this morning. The school run alone is an intensely choreographed human dance and there are kids involved which adds that higher level of unpredictability. If you have ever been to a school in the morning you know what I mean. All traffic rules are suspended, I understand. And that is ok, because there are kids involved. If you want to park in the middle of the road and chat with some other moms while your kid gets out of the car, I am good with that. I scheduled an extra 15 minutes into my morning to allow for the delays in the school parking lot. I expect this. I am prepared.
It is the intersection around the corner that gets me every day. You see, there are yield signs at this intersection. I seem to be the only one, who remembers that a yield sign becomes a stop sign when other traffic is present. I stop as you should and expect the other car to stop. But, they don’t. They never stop. It’s all nicey-nice at the school, where we are teaching our children that the world stops for them. And then around the corner. Dog-eat-dog. And I am often incensed, sputtering about traffic rules, “Am I the only one?”, looking around for an observer to confirm I am being wronged. Of course, there is no one. It is a rural school. It is just me and the law-breaker. And he can’t see that I am flipping him off, because I am wearing mittens. It’s all so frustrating. And I shake my head and think or shout, depending on the mood, “What is wrong with that guy?” and follow that up with, “Why are you so bent out of shape about this? Flipping a guy off wearing mittens is dumb. Relax, chill, you should expect this to happen and be cool about it.”
I know you are thinking that I might make some connection with life and this intersection. A metaphor about The yields and The stops. A way for us to be ok when things don’t go our way. A chance to practice patience and understanding. But, I can’t be cool with it. Something about other people not following the rules, really gets me wound up.
Why don’t I make the kid ride the bus? So, I can avoid this daily test of my patience. Good question. It’s like I said before, being human is complicated. I know two things. I am not going to wear my mittens tomorrow. And, I might consider a different route.
Ok, well judging by the title of the post, you can guess where my frame of mind is. I told you on the about page that I was given to bouts of self-pity and other self-destructive behavior. So, you were warned. It can’t always be unicorns and rainbows. I am truly fed up. The snow and more snow and temperatures below 20*- like all the time. And this has been an easy winter in terms of accumulation, hardly any snow at all, compared to averages for this Northern Michigan town. But, I am miserable. I called my husband at work, crying about winter.
Restored former mental hospital in
Traverse City, Michigan
So, what is it about winter that becomes intolerable for me? Aside from the obvious, freezing ass temperatures and inconveniences of walking and driving on ice? It is an idle time. A quiet time for reflection and retreat. Lots of time spent around the fire with the family. It’s driving me crazy. I have had enough down time. I’m not at the Jack in The Shining point quite yet, but not far off. It’s Cabin Fever meets Winter Blues. I have to get OUTSIDE!
And so, what is there to do around here in February, if you aren’t on a plane to the Bahamas? I am seriously thinking about checking out this Yeti Fest coming up in Suttons Bay, Michigan. One of the events? A yeti look-a-like contest. What isn’t to love about that? I’m going. And then we have The Traverse City Winter Comedy Festival. Well timed, Mr Moore, well-timed. Everyone is desperate for some entertainment around here and could use a laugh. Maybe, I will pop into The Village at Traverse Commons for the indoor Farmer’s Market. It is located in The Mercato in Building 50. As a side note, the restoration project of this former state-run mental hospital is one of the largest architectural repurpose projects in the country. It is a beautiful space and I’m sure that looking at kale and root vegetables will help me forget that it is 14* outside.
Anyone else feeling the cabin fever winter blues and want to join me for The Yeti Fest beard contest followed by some kale soup?
Badass Snowflake 