November 24, 2015 § Leave a comment
The past week has been a whirlwind of emotions. An unhappy argument that lead to an honest unraveling. Tiny earthquakes of the spirit.
Sad and angry, I pulled away from the places I normally find comfort and looked inward more closely for strength. My vision obscured by a new foothold, I saw myself in choices that reflected places of need that demanded change.
For all my many blessings and joy, there was room for more. A word I previously chose to name the year.
How far had I fallen in my distraction that this word was lost in my daily attention? Suddenly alert and eager, this word was like manna to an achy spirit.
I drew myself closely to the table and began demanding more, of and for, myself.
I had become stagnant in my self-care. Deferring choices to a status quo and squandering the preciousness of each moment with hesitation. Fully awake in this reality I dared to engage chance.
It was this day that I hurriedly scribbled a resume and cover letter into reality, tempting fate to challenge my intentions. A change that I had come to fear became a lifeline to a forgotten self.
I immediately reached out for necessary references and let loved one’s stand beside me in my action, honoring the fragility of this new possibility with transparency of intention.
Then, just when the busyness of my normal weekday routines dared me to sweep momentum beneath distractions, I bought an interview outfit and challenged fate to call me.
I started looking at those around me less as dependents of my attention and more as capable caretakers. I began conversations with my children that outlined places where they might mature into acts of greater support.
I even embraced small gestures of whimsy, signing up for a frivolous message from an uncertain Universe so that I would have a happy message to begin my day. A playful plan for the mornings I would need encouragement.
It was in this same mindset that I acted on an idea a friend shared; a link to network with other writers. Here, again, I enlisted chance with determination; recognizing that if I could leap into change to be of service to others, then I could also demand a space of passion for myself.
For the past week, each day has begun with yes. I have moved toward every affirmation with a stubborn, blind love.
Then, today, rejection came. A polite form letter informing me that another candidate was awarded the opportunity I sought for myself. I could tell you that this moment undermined my confidence, that I doubted my ability and curled inward. It is what I might have felt only a week ago, but no is not so painful when the work is not intimately tied to self.
More importantly, failure is intricately linked to success; we cannot learn, grow, evolve without uncomfortable risk. I failed in this early endeavor, but I succeeded in moving past anxiety, fear, and doubt to make that first uncertain step towards change.
I don’t know what comes next, I only know I’m tired of standing still. I want to dance the little girl open-armed twirls of my heart song.
November 23, 2015 § Leave a comment
It is a season of mending broken traditions
with intentions threaded in joy;
a time of celebrations and tenderness for our blessings.
It is a meal shared over memories;
days lightened by laughter.
It is a time of change and peace;
new milestones and old favorites.
It is a place of comfort and cheer;
family born of friendship.
Thanks and giving.
November 20, 2015 § 5 Comments
Life disrupts our assumptions at the most peculiar moments, splitting our expectations into places of wondering. Previously at peace with the patterns of my day, I find myself caught in a new momentum; looking beyond the predictable toward something uncertain.
For fifteen years my identity has been structured around my purpose at home. It has been a comfortable, well-cherished, experience; one I hadn’t envisioned for myself before the day it became my own. The girl who tumbled into motherhood was previously a curious student and free spirit, unbound by domesticity with a passion for a different calling.
Those early years I pushed against the leisure of a simpler experience. I chaffed against the loss of academia and the misplaced dream of a professional experience. I couldn’t fathom the challenges waiting in want of a student; the calling of a greater lesson in the unpredictable gifts motherhood invited.
Over the years I’ve watched friends leave careers for homemaking, celebrating their new adventure with the same enthusiasm I congratulate other friends’ promotions or independent pursuits; cherishing the brave souls who tempt fate with a leap of confidence toward a heart song. All the while I wondered at the misplaced certainty that used to guide my sense of self.
It was enough to be my children’s mother and a mediocre homemaker, a part-time daydreamer with an anonymous outlet for writing, until an unhappy interruption challenged the direction of my dreams.
Yesterday I tempted change with an exercise in chance, casting an invitation into the unknown; a resume hurriedly drafted with all the recklessness of childhood scribbles. Bold strokes with an unsharpened crayon crafting a colorful marker of change.
Today is a new day on a different path. An opportunity to awaken a second-chance at repurposing old dreams into something new. A blank space in want of a story.
November 19, 2015 § 4 Comments
It has been one of those days, fractured nerves and heavy hearts; hollowed out places where emptiness fills the space of peace. Small wounds chase unhappy thoughts like seams of ice too thin under the weight of our presence.
Tired and disappointed, hurt and defensive, we tiptoe past worry toward distraction; hugging the shoulder of familiar ground with quiet apologies and small gestures of tenderness.
November 16, 2015 § 2 Comments
Today dawned gray and damp, winter chill seeping into the morning air. In quiet rebellion of Monday’s burdens, we lingered beneath our bedding and fought off the minute hand with heavy eyelids.
Rain coats too thin for the cold and fall jackets ill-fitting the dampness, it is an uncomfortable in-between. Our shoes slosh with the inconvenience of persistent puddles and our hands tuck cautiously in determined resistance.
It is a day for heavy blankets and long books, old movies and afternoon naps. Except that my children can no longer hide from responsibilities beneath living room forts and make-believe adventures.
Instead we venture past the dampness toward daydreams of day’s end; their forms bent against routine and their minds clouded with remnants of sleep.
November 14, 2015 § Leave a comment
Heart to knees I bend my will against the noise of fear until silence lends me peace. Head down, arms long, I push against the weight of uncertainty with the strength of hope.
I yield to the light still visible in the darkness.
November 13, 2015 § Leave a comment
Playing at uncertain beginnings.
I carry your memory like marbles against my tongue, a weight that pushes against my thoughts even as it holds my words in silence. Your name is soundless in my mouth, a single memory among decades of stolen minutes. On a cold night, in a month I cannot remember and a town I have long since abandoned, we gathered near to where we first met.
Stranded in a hopeless acceptance of unhappy desperation, I sit anxiously in fear of loosing something I do not want. I have gathered my spirit into tidy fictions of credibility; lines of manipulated truths that presume qualifications for tasks I am ill equipped to perform. Whatever delusions of grandeur I posses are daydreams borrowed from storylines of another’s telling.