There are some days when your blessings are more blatantly apparent than others. Like a flower garden you pass everyday but suddenly take notice of, the blooms seem a little brighter, a little bigger and smell a little sweeter. Today my heart is full and my blessings abundantly present. I am thankful for this respite as I gaze upon my darling children, listen to their stories and songs.
I wish I could hold on to this feeling forever, unfortunately living gets in the way of life. Time to prioritize and live like the only things that matter are those I hold closest to my heart. Being content is often overlooked in the name of ambition. Not that there is anything wrong with ambition, but if it gets in the way of enjoying what you already have, let it go. Today I choose to let it go………
Where does she hide? What does she look like? Where does she store all of my innermost thoughts and ideas? How come she is so inaccessible when I most want a visit from her? Does she find pleasure in withholding creativity? Does she delight in my dilemma? Why do I feel so lost when my fingers itch to type but my muse refuses to cooperate? I’ve heard that to best encourage the muse is to ignore her altogether, but then I feel sad and lonely.
Is writers block a symptom of the hidden muse or the cause of it? If I sit and write without her help, what will I produce? Mindless ramblings of muze confuzion no doubt. Perhaps if I ignore her absence long enough and keep clicking away at the keyboard something worthwhile will burst forth. Maybe not. In the meantime, if you see my muse will you send her home please? I’m aching for some inspiration.
How do you, my fellow writers…deal with an absent muse?
Look around you….what do you see? The beauty and majesty of Bishop California surrounds you. Do you appreciate it? Do the Sierra Nevada’s give you a sense of awe? They should, you take for granted a life of beauty and serenity and you shouldn’t, for soon it will all be gone. You’ll spend most of your 40’s attempting to recapture the feeling of peace and beauty you have now. These things will come to past and there is nothing you can do to change them.
Next year your beloved Bron, whom you babysit will drown in his families backyard pond at the age of 2. His father, your sixth grade teacher whom you adore, will die in a horrible dune buggy accident several years later. Take the time today to share with them what they mean to you. The loss of these two dear ones will forever weigh on your heart, don’t dismiss this admonishment lightly, as some adolescents are prone to do.
The boyfriend whom you have given your heart, will betray your trust and hurt you so deeply that a wall is built around your soul making it difficult to love fully again. Don’t place trust in someone too immature to appreciate it.
The person you call your best friend will play a part in this betrayal. Use better judgement when choosing your friends. Remember that the ‘best indicator of future behavior is past behavior’ according to Dr. Phil McGraw
Your parents will divorce in the next two years and you will move, never to live in the serenity of the Owens Valley again, though you will desire to do so for the remainder of your days.
In short life as you know it is soon to change so drastically that the impact will be indelibly etched in your soul, rendering your ability to have deep, meaningful relationships difficult.
Never take for granted what you have now, for it is soon lost.
It’s Been a Long Lonely, Lonely, Lonely Time
Okay not really, it is very difficult to feel lonely in the house. Crowded: yes. Lack of breathing space: yes. Greatly in need of elbow room: yes, but lonely? Not on your life. It has been a long time however, since I stretched my fingers and my mind. Lately, all of my writing has been in the name of “chasing the almighty dollar” and I have had no time to indulge myself here on the blog. While writing for hire can be tedious it is necessary and is the very life blood of my business.
As I slave away at the keyboard for others my personal projects go unattended, but not forgotten. Hidden away in the deep recesses of my consciousness my books scream for attention. The blog sits, waiting patiently for a small snippet of my time and my poetry untold wilts a bit more each day waiting to be brought forth unto the world.
Even as I write these words, I consider tasks left undone that need my attention. I have waited long enough to free my thoughts; the tasks will wait for me. Writer’s block has plagued me for the past month. Exhausted from lack of sleep, energy sapped from raising children and subbing at Hillcrest what suffers most is the gift I usually give myself: time to write. I have been afraid, that the words won’t come; that I have nothing to say, nothing to give. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day, until weeks go by, then a month.
A dear friend stopped me in the street today, “I haven’t received any blog updates from you lately, did you forget me?” Thank you Sallie for giving me the kick I needed to sit down, relax and let words come, even if they do nothing more than make me smile.
I’ve missed me. Writing gives me time to enjoy myself, my thoughts, my sense of humor. It gives me time to reflect on my day, my family, my life. I savor each moment reliving the day…..I can smell Bella’s hair, hear Stevie’s laugh, see Seannie’s smile, enjoy Ryan’s accomplishments and feel Casey’s warm hug all over again.
Everyone is well and I feel great, it is good to be back.