I began doing morning pages from Julia Cameron’s The Artist's Way about a month ago. Every morning I write three pages of stream of consciousness stuff and the point is to keep writing without picking up the pen or going back and editing. At least once every day I write “sigh sigh sigh what else?” because my stream has run dry.
Without a clear concept of where this is going, here are some of the things I’ve been thinking about.
I had a very cool experience last week. I was listening to Mel Robbins’ podcast, which is aptly named The Mel Robbins Podcast, and she was talking about synchronicity. After giving several examples of it in action which centered around finding “just the thing” she or someone else was looking for in a store she challenged the listeners to try it themselves.
As it was, I was on my way to Kohl’s to buy some new clothes and was about to pass a Ross where one time a couple years ago I found a pair of Clarks sandals just sitting there. I’ve looked many times in the past for another pair but thought that was a one-and-done fluke.
So I decided to see if I could make this happen.
I pulled into the parking lot and the space right in front of the door opened up.
I walked into the store, and five minutes later walked out with a brand new pair of Clarks sandals.
In my size.
In a color I don’t already own.
There wasn’t another pair of Clarks on the shelves. I looked.
Despite having learned in my last post Snack Cakes and Set Backs that I want to take care of my body like it’s a separate being who needs me, I had a binge episode last week.
It totally surprised me.
I stood in the kitchen and ate thing after thing in rapid succession, all the while feeling so disembodied that I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to.
I wasn’t eating unhealthy food, but if you’ve ever had a binge episode you know the feeling I’m talking about. It’s not the food itself that makes it a binge - it’s the driving sense of need to put something in your mouth.
I had just had a difficult conversation with my husband about a topic that we will never come to a resolution on.
I was literally shoving down the words that I believe will never change anything.
Yes. I’m using the word never.
In more lucid moments I have accepted that, but again my body will react in ways that it has reacted in the past. I didn’t chastise it or hate myself for binging. I gently took care of it for the rest of the day and told myself that some wounds will only heal but so much.
On a lighter note, my daughter bought me a Nendoroid Snoopy for my birthday. There are interchangeable parts for Snoopy’s face, arms, and feet. Plus sunglasses for both of them! My daughter really does get me.
Synchronicity did not bring to me the specific Sue Monk Kidd book that I was looking for at my library’s used book sale, but I did pick up a good stack for $17. Not pictured are Jamie Oliver’s jamie’s italy that I snagged for $5 and a couple of Foxtrot books for the *ahem* reading room.
As Spring settles upon my little part of the Shenandoah Valley I’ve been thinking about how much my mother would have loved the life that I get to live. There is plenty of time and space for reading and puttering in the garden. There are friends and friendly neighbors, and there is a front porch that is perfect for a morning cup of coffee and quick chats with those same friends and friendly neighbors. I live close to my children, which means I also live close to my grandchildren.
I think Mother - and yes I call her Mother, that is her name, she was sweet and sometimes silly so get those stereotypical “Mother” images out of your head - now I’ve forgotten my train of thought - oh yes, I think Mother would have been happy that all five of her children are connected still, even though we live on each coast and somewhere in the middle-ish.
Oh there’s other stuff I’ve been thinking about, but I’ll stop here. One of those things might turn into a longer essay. I will leave you with a poem I wrote called …
the boy the girl the dog
plates stacked
silverware piled
the boy goes to the sink
rinsing washing drying
dishes returned
the girl goes to the stove
emptying saving covering
leftovers stored
the dog goes to the cabinet
sitting waiting watching
treats given
the boy stays
the dogs stays
the girl leaves
to her office to her journal
to write the lines that will remind her of the day
lights dimmed
curtains drawn
water bubbles in the kettle for the tea
the girl stays
the boy leaves
the dog leaves
to the bedroom to the bed
to turn down the sheets that will provide respite from the day
shower started
laundry collected
ice rattles in the glass for the nightcap
the boy stays
the girl stays
the dog leaves
to the backyard to the fence
to make a final inspection of the domain for the day
perimeter scanned
smells reviewed
blanket beckons on the floor for the last nap
the boy stays
the girl stays
the dog stays
in the living room on the couch
to share the waning hours of the day
television turned on
choices made
peace settles on the house for the evening