It's only been twelve days, since the schools closed. And then the libraries, then the businesses, and everything else began to close their doors, too. Most of them, anyway. Twelve days, and it feels like a different reality, in so many ways.
We had some collective denial, at first. We joked and made fun:
"...hey...don't forget to wash yer hands, haha..." But, uncertainty lingered beneath.
A few more days went by, and we stopped laughing, but still didn't really take it too seriously.
"It's not all that bad... we're not Italy... most people are fine... it's just like the flu..."
And so many continued to gather, to crowd, to assemble...despite dire warnings against it. Officials at all places of government were putting out mixed messages at different times, in different communities, in different states.
A few more days went by, and the local cases doubled, quickly. Tripled, maybe.
Each day, the mystique around the virus grew more ominous than the next. The fear grew. That's it, really. The fear really took hold of our psyche. Every story we heard about the illness. Every cough, a cause for concern. Every sniffle; every symptom.
It reminded me a bit of trying to conceive (which took us, my ex-husband and I, about a year.) And each month, I'd play this game: every symptom was scrutinized and obsessed over. I have a pimple, could that mean...?!? I got dizzy today, maybe this is it? It feels like that now, in ways, except that the pending diagnosis is not a joyful one, but a frightening one. Could it just be a sinus infection, a stomach bug, the regular flu, allergies... there is so much in the air, as it is. Or could it be..."covid?"
And we're on alert...shoulders in our ears, some of us. Oblivious, some of us. Calm inside the storm, some of us. But the fear...when not properly managed and confronted... fear can turn the human being into an ugly creature: anger, jealousy, greed, cruelty, depression, and despair can all grow outward, from fear.
And we must meet it, head on. So, what does it stem from?
And so it goes.
There is a lot of fear and some days it hangs heavier in the air than the contagion, itself.
And it's real. And it's okay to be scared and afraid or downhearted and sad or lonely. Feelings are natural and normal. They're human. And I think to by-pass them completely is detrimental, overall. When heavy emotion gets stuck inside, it wreaks havoc upon us - in our minds, in our hearts, in our bodies, in our ability to trust, in our overall outlook and perspective. It's okay to feel it, but we shouldn't stay there.
It's easy to shrug and pretend it's not happening, if you're far from the effects of this virus. I admit, I walked that line for a few days. But day by day, I let the world in. Slowly. The reality. The grief. The collective pain. And I think an evolving people on an evolving planet ought to feel things with each other. As one. We ought to process, together, as much as we can. We need to face the shadows and walk through them, graciously, with kindness and altruism and a good work ethic and a bit of faith. Faith in something...whatever you prefer. There's no wrong answer when it comes to faith, as long as you don't cause another person intentional harm in your practice. What matters most is how we act, I think. How we behave toward one another in these times.
But to push right past it all, I think, helps no one. There is great meaning and medicine to found in these times. The trick though, is to be aware and alert to what is going on, yet also to stay calm and present to your life. To each moment, as it arises. To look around your life and find the good - and elevate it, even as we all go through this crisis, together. And beauty looks different on different days to different people.
Always, in life, there will be fear and terrible things to focus on, if we so choose. Always, in life, there will be beautiful and sacred things to notice and celebrate, as well. And we have these moments, to choose our experiences, if we can just get out of the way of our incessant thoughts and reactions.
We've got these magical moments to slow down into, to feel into, to connect to, deeply. To ask questions, to consider what we might learn, to reflect on the human story, so far... and when have we been here, before? And what did we do, then, and did it work? Why and why not? And how might we grow and become better and not repeat past mistakes? How could we honor our history - good, bad, and ugly - and take its lessons in stride, to become a healthier, kinder, more efficient, more devoted people? Devoted to each other, to our resources, to all the other beings on this planet? How do we get through this moment in the story... with Grace, with resilience, and in such a way that generations later the text books will remember us with gratitude, for having done the right things for our/their futures?
Big questions, certainly. And we have big opportunities to study them. And I think we ought to. We ought to learn and course-correct as we go. We are conscious and creative human beings with wildly beating hearts and intelligent and powerful minds and we can do incredible things together. We're all lit from the same spark of life, initially. And when we remember that, oh...what we're capable of.
Uncertain times, for sure...but I have great hope for what lies on the other side of all of this.
And on a lighter note...
Today, we played in the yard. A soccer ball and a net, lots of green grass, a fresh Spring breeze, the sounds of children playing in their yards throughout the neighborhood - it was exquisite. And it's not lost on me, how lucky we are to live in such a place: a warm house in the suburbs, with a big yard, and trees, and sky, and toys to play with. Our own private oasis in the storm. And when we came back inside, as we washed up and I began to get things together to make some dinner (which I LOVE, I never have the time to do this... it's usually take-out or grill-it and chill) - I began to think about my grandmothers.
On my father's side (British-Celtic-Canadian-Nordic) - my grandma hustled Avon, when I knew her. She schlepped me around, on calls, sometimes, and was the epitome of a shark. She'd literally open the catalog to the lipsticks in someone's living room, while I waited on a chair, and say something like, "by some of these, I can earn something extra...no, these, here..." and they'd just do it, they didn't know how to say no. She was tough, so tough. She had a grit about her. But she earned it. When my father was a kid, both she and my grandpa worked at the local airplane manufacturers. They took the bus - one worked the day shift, one the night shift. They went into Republic, or Grumman, and worked the line making airplane parts for the war effort. Everyone worked for the war effort, it seemed.
We rallied, we came together, we fought the foe, together. The United States of America. United. Individual, but empowered, together, toward a common good, and it was not easily won - a nation of the people, by the people, for the people (Gettysburg Address, November 19, 1863). And in crisis - states band together, and countries band with allies and wars are won - together.
Grandma was a working wife and mother with four boys to feed and lived through the Depression. She told stories of going to the butcher and asking for the scrap-cuts, the chewy cuts, the cheapest pieces...and she'd stretch it and make it work. Fishing in the bay for dinner - snappers. Growing gardens for fresh vegetables and berries. Canning and preserving in the off-seasons, using every bit of everything because it was hard to come by. The humility, the gratitude, for the simplest things... it wasn't lost on me. She was resourceful, because she had to be, and it lasted the rest of her life.
On my mother's side (Italian-French-Greek): Mimi grew up in an Italian Catholic household with four sisters. All she ever wanted was to go to college, to learn, to absorb the world, but she couldn't. In her family, women were raised to become wives - they learned to cook, to clean, to take care of a husband. And she married, and spent many years in a life that wasn't really her own. She'd been poor, she'd struggled, she'd held her tongue. But later, she found freedom. With four children at home, she started working in the city. My own mother became a caretaker for her siblings. They all sacrificed. And when times were hard, they did the same sorts of things: they went to the markets and got the cheapest cuts, some beans, whatever they could afford.
And through both of these women, both gone now, their stories get to live on in my memory. They struggled, early on. They went without. They ate to live, and not vice-versa.
Grandma knew that a big ol' pat of butter on the vegetables meant that we'd get more nutrition from them. I never knew if that was true, but I trusted it. Later, as an adult, I looked it up. She was right. Many nutrients in our foods are fat-soluble and can't be absorbed without fats. Like butter. Thanks, Grandma. Mimi would demolish chicken bones... she'd eat the wing or drumstick, clean - to the bone, then suck the marrow out of the ends and even crunch the cartilage. We shudder at the thought, right? But she was getting nutrients from it. Waste nothing.
Living through World War II taught them great lessons about portions, health, needs vs wants, planning and preserving, the value of hard work, humility, the magic of random generosity and the kindness of strangers.
And maybe...here, now... we can pay attention. We can learn. We can't go to the store and get everything that we're used to getting right now. Not right away. We're unaccustomed. We're used to instant access. Now, now, now. But we can evaluate our true needs. We can focus on essentials: food, health, shelter. And PS, many people live like this everyday...
But there are rich lessons from our past that we can tap into - to get through these days.
And that might be the most important lesson of all, right now...
How many times in your life have you wished for things to slow down? What you would do? Something around the house, or would you write something, learn a new skill, take a course? Or maybe you're like me and simply wanted a break...to catch your breath and relax and rest and simply enjoy your life with your kids more?
Well, if not now...when?
Stay kind out there... stay healthy. Stay home. xo :cheers:
I've been thinking...about this country...
Thoughts after morning meditation:
We're going through a great deal of change, right now. There is a lot of fear, a lot of concern - rightfully...
- financially - unemployment is beginning to soar, businesses lay people off, stocks plummet...the floor is unsteady...
- education - families scramble to keep up with their children's lessons and learning, while dealing with the outside world, the state of their jobs, household management, how important are lesson books, what else could they be learning...etc...
- health - who will get sick, when, how long will it last, are we prepared?
- entrepreneurs- using different ways to make an impact, to promote their businesses, to gain clients in new ways, to think outside the box, to stay relevant, it can be new and stressful
- people who are techno-phobic are being forced to embrace a new medium, and there can be a learning curve
- being separated from friends, co-workers and our normal routines can be stressful
There is immediate fear - (will I or someone I know, get sick and die from this? Will we weather this financial crisis?) All legitimate. But when this subsides, and it will...at some point... we will have some collateral effects to wrangle as we go on. And we will go on.
There are so many things to be concerned with. So many pieces to this puzzle...
And when I rest and zoom out, above the surface scramble.... I see so much opportunity. Everywhere. Hope, change, transformation, growth. Opportunity.
And I'm sure I'm not the only one...I know that I'm not. I can feel it.
Cleaner industry -
We can see how the air clears, when we remove our industrial pollutants. How our home, how Earth, breathes and self-heals when we stop adding toxic fumes into the air. Much like the human body - when we stop adding pollutants and harmful substances, the body usually heals itself. Quit smoking soon enough; the lungs will regenerate. When the air is cleaner, more humans can go outdoors and enjoy their birthright - breathing clean air, visiting natural spaces, which promotes their own wellness and health. Healthy air, healthy humans, healthy humans, better work output, better work, better world function, overall. How can we produce our goods, all these things that we, as buyers, consume... with less toxic exhaust? Can we change how our motors are powered? Switch to cleaner energy, maybe. Utilize all the systems that we have in place, the science is already there. Solar, wind, hydro, etc... can we finally, maybe, get off oil? It's a house of cards, anyway, it has been for a while. There's not time like the present. Perhaps, we're testing ourselves... can we survive the inconvenience of change for a greater good?
Green Jobs -
Employ all these folks who've been let go so quickly, without a hope, by scrambling businesses afraid of losing money... in rebuilding our infrastructure - intelligently. Forward-thinking, worldview. Install wind-farms. wide-scale solar projects. Hydropower. Use Nature's gifts to generate power, to employ the unemployed, and to restore public health, worldwide. Dirt, clouds, humans, wildlife. It's all connected, and all interdependent, and it's out of balance. A simple fix. Not easy, but simple. Let the needs of our world create new jobs, that will create solutions. Green infrastructure, green jobs. Makes sense.
Adjust and Support Education and Community Institutions -
Develop better learning models, that ensure life-skills and basic intelligence and compassion and clear communication and creative talents. We have an opportunity to change the way we do life. We can start with schools, in training the newer generations differently. It's all there, in pieces, but we can raise the bar and let the tired, old, standardized curriculums fade. We can make and implement new ones, envisioned by teachers who teach, not board-rooms of individuals who are too far from the students, and don't work closely enough in the field, to even see what matters. We can develop better models of learning, that cater to creativity and not to generic memorization. Creative and healthy minds make creative and healthy worlds. Conscious parenting, conscious teaching = conscious children > conscious future leaders. The coming world will need them. We can start now.
Public Health -
We can put more attention and focus on collective health, knowing how integral we all are in the fight against disease and threats to homeostasis on Earth. It's all connected, and it all matters. Everything affects our health and we all affect each other and our world. We are all in the snow globe together - people, animals, sky, sun, water, trees, technology, dirt, disease. We can train medical professionals in holistic ways, understanding how interconnected we all are with everything else. New opportunities for specialization, deeper infectious disease studies to match a changing world. More emphasis in popular medicine on nutrition, permaculture, horticulture, caring for livestock in humane and non-toxic ways...how interconnected it is. The field of health can morph to adapt all of this, and it can start in childhood education. It all starts with our youth and how we educate.
Arts and Libraries and Museums -
Encourage and foster the arts, young, because art saves our souls and helps us to tell our story. The arts connect us to each other. Art helps us to understand ourselves and to live in healthier ways. Music is great for the brain and for the heart. Artistic expression is a boon to mental health, and a populace that struggles with mental health becomes dependent on too many other things, in efforts to correct that imbalance. Freedom of expression - to sing, to dance, to pontificate spiritually, to paint, to sculpt... creates a healthier and more inspired human being. Invest in libraries and museums, because they are a hub of information, connection, artistic expression, and acceptance, and offer community support and education and shelter during natural disasters.
A human being needs more than money to thrive. We need culture, connection, understanding, compassion, certain freedoms, creativity, healthy air and water, a healthy and sustainable food supply, and solid infrastructure and leadership that supports the evolving human being in and of an evolving world. Why not begin creative tracks earlier? If a student shows promise in the arts, why not mentor that? Why not create apprenticeships, early? Allow deeper focus for those with creative talents? In all public schools? More fine-tuned and specialized teaching jobs, greater freedom and focus for emerging artists and how to utilize their special skills in the world that they'll grow into. We've seen how very integral and important teachers are in the lives of our beloved children. Education is paramount, and often gets a backseat. This is ludicrous. It's where everything starts.
So many opportunities, here. There's so much, if you're paying attention.
Why wait until college to offer electives? And why let a bunch of folks in a board room decide how each child across the United States ought to be educated and tested? Children are different, with different skills and attention spans and talents, and we'll need all of them. Why not grow expert musicians, and creative therapists, and deeply attuned and empathetic psychologists and healers and leaders, and master artists to capture and echo the story of life on Earth, as it changes? These children are growing up differently, in a different world, and we need different curriculums.
We are on the cusp of a new Renaissance. If we allow it.
It's scary right know... in the darkness of this, as we walk through the shadow.
But, zooming out, forward into a vision of a healed Earth, all I see are opportunities to grow, evolve, and make better decisions... it's just a no brainer to me. Switch to green energy, educate and employ people to install it. In business, in homes, in libraries, all over the world, but why not in the US. Why not push forward, the time is now? More employed people mean more spending, and the economy rebounds. More green practices and healthier standards for businesses mean a healthier planet. A heather planet means we get to stay here at the party longer. I like it here. I don't want to live in space on a metal ship, and I don't think my son or his kids do, either. We love parks and beaches and farms and birdsong.
This is all nothing new. It's really not. It's not controversial, these ideas have been around for decades.
And yet, when I begin these conversations, today, in this reality, with so many folks... it's as though I'm speaking in hieroglyphs. It's as though we've been brainwashed, somehow, so many of us, and our minds have turned to input only, and our critical minds - the parts of us that thinks and decipher and mitigate and create change - have been asleep.
So much opportunity, so much joy and progress to imagine. And these ideas are just the tip of the iceberg... there's so much. And long-view, I'm excited. I'm hopeful.
There's a lot of tension right now. A lot of fear. But if you can anchor in, root down, and feel past it... knowing that we'll get past it. Consider where we might go. Consider this moment in time...this pregnant pause... with so much possibility to rewrite the story.
Maybe. What do i know, though? I'm just a librarian. Stuck at home. Trying to be useful, trying to be of service.
Stay kind out there. Stay in Love. It's what we got. it's everything, right now. xoxo
So. 30 days without: dairy, processed foods, wheat/gluten or any grain, really... beans/ legumes, added sugars, alcohol...
This was my 2nd attempt. The first time, I couldn't stand the emotional upheavals of sugar withdrawal. (It's that addictive, yeah.) I bailed after 2 weeks, telling myself some story... that I was choosing a "Whole 15" and that for me, that was enough.
That was the first of many lies I had told myself about this program. The truth was, I didn't want to get too uncomfortable, I think. I didn't think I could do it.
So, to catch you up: I work full time as a reference librarian. I write books on the side. I'm a single Mom (co-parenting - I do get days to myself.) And I am a recovering productivity junkie. I realized this as I geared up for this program, around holiday time in December... I looked back on my life, on the last 4+ years, and saw that my health goals had stalled completely, as I wrote through things, over and over.
I soul-searched and journeyed and meditated and connected and found my beautiful glittering soul and loved her and pressed her into me, blissfully. I mantra'd. I ohm'd. I shavasana'd. And then I traveled and I rocked out and got doe-eyed and swoony and re-found pieces of myself that I thought were long dead. Nope, not quite. All the while, I was feeding my passions, my joy-meter, my ease, and my mental wellness. No one dared tell me no, to anything. I was on a mission.
Well, a few years out, book two is finished and making its way out into the world, and I chose, purposely, to NOT dive deeply into another project. I would dive deeper into me. I would wrangle my own health, I would master my day-to-day life and priorities, I would organize the place, redecorate some things, reinvent some things. It was all physical. And I tried to do it all for a while... day job, motherhood, organization, novel notes and writing for future projects, a meditation practice, meal planning and fitness and well, I got burnt out again.
So, when an old school friend announced her Whole 30 Challenge on Facebook, it was kismet. I pushed everything off my plate that wasn't home, motherhood, work, and wellness. And I went hard for it.
I kept a journal, but otherwise... no looming writing projects. My free time was spent searching up recipes, cooking, meal-prepping, setting exercise routines - and sticking to them. My own wellness became the obsession. All my lights had been turned inward, right back onto me, and it felt strange at first. Really strange. "But, so and so needs this," and "this one should have that," and I "should do this for that one..." But, I let it all go. It was me-time. I was being selfish. But it wasn't really, not in a bad way.
Because the Why was still there - "build a better world for my son, and for all of our kids." How? Educate, inspire, connect. With What?
So. Whole 30. I committed to a modified version... I knew my allergies well, I just wanted a firm and consistent reset.
What did I eat?
Breakfast: Bulletproof Coffee - fresh espresso, blended with tbsp Kerrygold Butter, 1 tsp MCT oil, 2 scoops collagen protein (I did better with some steady protein in mine, and it took a while to sort this out), and I "cheated" and threw in a Splenda sometimes.
Lunch: big-ass salad... e.g. a few handfuls of greens, 1/2 a cucumber, steamed asparagus, 1/2 sweet potato, cherry tomatoes, sauerkraut, olives, 1/2 an avocado, oil and vinegar, leftover protein (usually chicken breast or hard boiled egg. Sometimes beef. Sometimes no-sugar bacon.) No croutons, no bread, nada. Just the veg.
Snack: If I needed it... a Lara Bar or a Quest Bar. Lots of water. Green tea, maybe. At peak sugar-craving times, I made modified "sweets," like keto brownies or almond flour donuts, with Swerve and but flours and other approved keto-style ingredients. I fed the indulgence, but staying on track with my goals. Win-win. And it was only for that 2nd week, really. The cravings passed.
Dinner: protein, veggies, 1/2 avocado. Berries on the side, sometimes with coconut cream. (OH MY GOD, COCONUT CREAM.)
That's about it, for 30 days. Samesies, every day. The result? Food became a fuel, and not a pleasure fix or a thing to do or a mindless diversion. I ate what was best for me, intentionally... I have iron-anemia and hypothyroidism. And after over 10 years of experimenting, I now know for sure that I do best on a higher fat, low-carb diet with animal proteins and very low amounts of grain. Most of my carbohydrates come from plants.
I returned to lifting weights... just a few times per week, and lots of cardio: aerobic dance, walking, and just maximizing ways to stay active throughout the day. Every day. I moved every single day, somehow.
SO the results?
So, it was absolutely worth it, all around. I may allow some cheeses in here and there, some whole grains, maybe, like quinoa or oats... but for the most part, this is how I'll be eating. And it's probably how I always should have been eating. It just makes sense - it's so simple and natural.
Am I at my goal? No, not yet. But I'm damn proud of my success after just a month. It feels really, really good to take care of yourself and insist on that time: to run, to workout, to go to a yoga class, to cook a slow meal. It feels really good. And too many of us don't fight for it. It's hard, to let go of the rest and focus on yourself. It's really hard, you fear missing out on things, losing things, but really... you're not. And the more you focus on your own well-being, the more you realize that YOU are what you've been missing out on, while you put everyone else first, for so long.
I've decided to never take myself for granted again, if I can help it.
I had an up and down day, today.
I was feeling pretty darn good when I woke up, I got a quick workout in, drove out to a workshop on raising quail from eggs to release in areas of Long Island to minimize the tick population... (they eat them. Who knew?) It was actually fun and strange and very informative and important. Eric made it easy, breezy, and fun.
It was a rainy, gray day, I had lunch on the road (a protein box from Starbucks) and great music in the car, as I ran errands on my lunch break. I managed to squeeze in a few moments parked at the beach as I nibbled my cheese and fruit and things, and sipped my gigantic coffee.
A few minutes. That's all it takes, now, and I'm grateful for that. Waves. Wind. Seagulls and being transported into their world, watching them dive for clams in the choppy water and fly way up high and drop them with a crash on the pavement. Brutal. Lunch is served...
Perspective. It's a miraculous thing.
And those moments, where I get to slow it all down and become the scene I'm in, they're magic. There's a kind of ease and calmness in reflection, for me. Where was I then, and where am I now?
I've been zooming along for a number of years now, with little down time. It started with my first blog, as I wrote Ana J Awakens. Everything was a journey. Every day, all the time. There was magic everywhere, inspiration in absolutely everything, the world came alive for me in ways that I hadn't seen since early childhood - when my dreaming was strong. Then, the book came out and I found myself pulling women together, at different times, for meet-ups. I formed new friendships and expanded my networks. I began testing the words out on my tongue, "I wrote a book." "I am a writer." "Yes, it's finished, you can buy it here..." The first time around, telling people about it was beyond nerve-wracking. It felt so different, so strange and alien to me. But it stuck, the more I said it and the more I wrote and kept creating new things. Always, I'd wanted to share something of value. To help move the world forward, toward connection. Community. Peace. Harmony. In small ways. Big ways. Any way that I could and I think I'll just always be trying.
Afterwards, there was a lull in creativity. I thought I was blocked. Stuck. Frozen. I'd written my one book, now I'd just crawl back into my cave and go about my business. But, then I started dealing with some real-life struggles, new anxieties, my first-ever panic attack, and all the rest. I began bleeding into poetry and songwriting and journaling, in notebooks. So many notebooks. Surrounded by words.
I soon started writing Wild Horses and Mistakes.
Travel. Oh, how I loved the travel. New people, new places and experiences. The deep and ominous Pacific, and what secrets I left there, with her, washed out in the undertow for safe-keeping. Deep and life-affirming conversations with strangers at airports. The rumble in my belly, as I crossed a new threshold. Alone. In another state. With no idea of how anything would play out... just going for it, and expecting the best, and seeing that when I went forward with the idea that I was a kind, open, loving person, that life usually met me there. When I went forward riddled with fear, paranoia, distrust, or a chip on my shoulder, life met me there as well. And how sensitive it all is. All of life, always, speaking to us and showing us to ourselves. How our perspectives determine and design our realities. And how easy it is to forget and to slip back into old ideas and shadows of pain and ideas that we're less-than.
We are not our stories. We are not those fleeting moments that pull us down or limit us or demean us in some way. We are what we bring, fully, to each moment. We are how we rise above those moments. We are energetic creatures and we are always, always creating.
Writing Wild Horses healed me. Changed me. Brought me to the other side of so many things, and I'll always be grateful for the serendipitous ways that I was led and nudged and whispered to and guided, at those moments when I felt most alone. And that's the beauty of an intentional journey like that, you can see how not alone we really are. Wild Horses restored my faith in something I'd always believed in and had lost - temporarily. That God is Love, and that I was a believer, and life had shown me how true this was. Fear creates distance and doubt. Love heals and connects and creates harmony. And so, courage, really, is being the first to drop the armor, and Love.
After I'd done the primary writing for Wild Horses, I'd been teased with the idea of podcasting. I took the bait. I jumped onto some new, free software online, bought a snowball mic at the music store, and I sat there. Staring into space, at first, laughing at myself. Then, it all started flowing out. I called it The Jelly. I was amazed at how much I had learned and integrated into my psyche, over those few years. I recorded a handful of episodes and then became preoccupied with getting Wild Horses out to print, finally. I was absolutely terrified to put it out there. It's the most honest and vulnerable thing I've done, so far. I second-guessed in profusion. Of course, now, I'm glad that I finished. Hearing women who connect to it come tell me, face-to-face, how they enjoyed it or found meaning in it, makes it worth it. These days, it is a big, big deal to expect someone to sit down and read a book and critique it. And I'm blown away at the ones who do, it's an honor to be read in any capacity. Truly. Attention is indeed, gold. If you read anything I write, I am grateful. Humbled. It's a gift to be able to connect and share thoughts in such a way. This is my way. I have many creative outputs, but free writing is always where I go home. The words wait for me, on the screen, in the pen, swirling in my head, to gather together and make manifest my inner ramblings and emotions and inclinations, that they might reach through space-time and connect. A bridge, from my mind to yours. There is a great intimacy in writing. Welcome, but please wipe your feet on the mat.
And now, as the days blend and bleed together and tiptoe ahead, I am popping up at events here and there, with two books in my traveling bag. And all I ever wanted to do was write a novel, just one book, and I never thought I actually would. It was...impossible. And I look back and see how many goals I had set, since, and how I'm on the other side of them. Smarter. A bit wiser. A bit tougher. Expanded.
So, whenever I get frustrated or feel like I'm standing still, I gaze back. I always feel like life is one big trail. And we're all here walking, together. Some ahead, some behind, all different kinds of people. But we're all just here, walking, figuring it out. Trying to get it right. Trying not to be assholes. Trying not to make a mess. Wanting to stay inspired and joyful, wanting to know that it all means something, wanting to know that we leave a good mark, as we go. Wanting it to be fun, yet somehow important. Hoping we don't trip and get injured. Wanting to stay so very much ourselves, and yet wanting so much to connect with others and share the experience. To marvel at the beauty, along the way. To huddle together when storms hit. And hoping to leave it all just a tiny bit better than we found it.
And I feel like, it's all right on time, you know? We start off on a path, and there are so many detours and side-trails, and deeper explorations, and pits to fall into, and cliffs to climb, up or down. And yet, somehow, we keep going. We just keep moving. In life and in art. We are all writing stories, with every choice that we make. And we make funny choices sometimes, and linger off down a strange path, into a weird cave filled with bats or something, and scoot back up to where we were going. A mistake to laugh off. And other times, we walk down some country road through wildflower meadows and stay there for a while, and maybe the path changes as we do. But I do believe that we make the path, as we walk.
And I think that there's so much more up ahead, than what we leave behind. Life: Expect obstacles. Pack a good bag. Stay kind. Know your strength. And just... keep going. Right?
Right. There's a beautiful sunrise ahead. There's a nice fire going, the rain has stopped the wind has died down...so, I'm going to get some rest, here, and just listen to the night sing.
The Jelly: creative hustle for anxious minds.
Mother. Librarian. Storyteller.