As The Fog Lifted

Gingerly placing toe on patio, shiver speeding up my spine, I pulled the blanket tighter. Tucking into chair for morning moments of precious, silent journal time. The morning was anything but silent.

A chill in the air compounded by fog lay heavy like a blanket not quite kicked off by sleepy Mother Earth. Cricket crescendos swelling in pulses, birds singing and stretching, traffic swooshing in the distance, and the thumping sound of highway workers displacing dirt in order to bypass the designated piece of earth.

The sun fought hard against the dark as it always does and won just the same. Bright hot light burning through the fog, lifting it now well above the trees. Everything becoming clearer, warmer, sweeter somehow. Flowers stretching and dropping their dew, bees buzzing, bringing to life their low humming tone.

I meant to journal for an hour. I really did. How is one supposed to concentrate with all this life going on around? Beautiful, masterful life.

Morning time. Magic time. My time.

Perspective

I've been feeling pretty down on myself lately.

I didn't know what I was thinking trying NaNoWriMo.

Four kids to raise, a baby during the day,

end of quarter conferences, meetings,

laundry, dishes, broken down vehicles,

messy house, homework and errands. Oh my!

My chronic pain is through the roof.
I haven't had time to blog in days.

Why did I think I could do NaNoWriMo?

Like every year, I began to feel like a failure.

The feeling sucks. I was folding. Giving up.

Then I was doodling as I tend to do,

when I realized something.

 Failing and falling are only one letter away from each other.

I thought about that.

Failing has such negative connotations.

No one wants to fail.

I certainly don't want to be considered a failure.

What about falling?

If someone is falling we try to catch them.

We create a soft landing.

We help them up.

We care.

 We are gentle and concerned wanting to know if they are okay.

I changed my perception.

I am not failing, I am falling.

I am having a hard time and I need help.

I am changing my internal dialog.

I am choosing positive words,

treating myself like I would others.

No more knocking myself down and folding.

I will pick myself up and dust myself off.

My perception about my challenge has changed. 

I may not make it to 50,000 words in 30 days.

I am realizing my physical disorder may not allow it.

I will make it the 30 days (and beyond).

If I complete the time and I complete the words,

I have accomplished NaNoWriMo

regardless of what the RuLeS say.

I will not give up.

I will succeed.

I am off to write, play and live!

How has your internal dialog been treating you lately?

Need a little help?

You are beautiful, you are amazing, you are valuable, you are loved.

Happiness Continued!

When I was very young I kept a diary.

As I grew older, I grew closer to those pages.

They were safe, they were available, they were a dumping ground.

It was a private playground for my adolescent mind.

Filled with happiness, heartbreak, good times and secrets, my diary was my closest friend.

I wrote, I was honest with myself, I was real.

Life became difficult, confusing, scary, downright mean.

I lost trust.

Trust in myself, trust in others.

I grew up real fast.

My beloved diary changed.

It became a possession.

Something to hide. Something of shame.

Re-visiting the pages made me realize how silly I was,

how juvenile my thoughts and feelings were.

How embarrassing and ridiculously silly a child I was.

I burned that diary.

Many decades have gone by.

I have grown. I have learned.

I have mourned for my lost childhood,

my harshness toward myself.

I no longer live in survival mode.

All these years later, I still have an unhealthy addiction to journals/diaries.

Seeing a beautiful journal I would long to own it,

hold it, have a relationship with it.

I would purchase them

desperately wanting to mark the pages

but I could not.

What if I wrecked it?

What if I wrote something stupid?

What if my handwriting sucks?

What if someone reads it?

What if I can't get real due to fear of exposure?

What if...

It was paralyzing.

Many journals were purchased,

many were gifted away.

 (a few of the many journals I have acquired over the years including the one I made!)

I don't tell you this to depress you or sound dreary or pathetic.

Quite the contrary.

I am being reborn!!!

NOW!!!!

Now I turn over a new leaf!!!!

Remember my post from Monday?

I am so excited about my new journal!!!!

I could SCREAM!!!!!!

Keri's book

is all about getting down and dirty with yourself.

Digging into pages, 

being creative,

being real,

having fun!

There are prompts for every page like...
...glue random newspaper page here
...drip something here
...place sticky things here
...fill this page with circles

Her ideas are more on the creative side

than your average wordy journal.

All the better!

That's what I want.

That's what I crave!

Letting it all out.

Being fearless.

Allowing creativity

and honesty

and fun

into every crevice life has to offer.

What a wonderful life tool

this journal will be.

I would use the word homework, but then I probably wouldn't do it!

Exercise?

Nope.

Same reaction.

How about

playground!

Yeah.

That sounds like fun!

My new playground!

I hope to share some playground experiences with you in the future.

After all, that would be good practice in trusting again.

;0)

Oh Happy, Happy Day!!!!

Monday's Happiness

What's making me happy this Monday?

Simple things.

Like this vase.

(and the beautiful age cracks inside)

which I purchased at an antique sale for only

50¢

to hold

these awesome Sharpies©

to start

this book

by Keri Smith

which is a gift I purchased for myself!!!!

(back of book pictured here scribed by me)

which you can find out how to purchase HERE.

I'm terribly excited to have found the book on a recent trip.

I have known of Keri's blog and book
(actually, she has many awesome books)
for some time but try hard to curb

any online charging as it is bad for the budget.  :(

But to run across it in person?

Well, that must be a sign, 

right?

Let's ask Lennon.

He says, "Go for it Baby!"

That's good enough for me!

(more about the book/journal tomorrow... please stay tuned!)

mess of emotion

My journal today looks a mess.

There is significance in this.

I look at my journal and self-judge. 

I am no artist. I wish I was.

Bad, negative feelings.

Obviously stemming from deep within.

Perhaps partially due to a life of doubt.

Stemming from two addict parents.

I sit here trying to figure out how many years of my life

both parents were sober at the same time.
Guess how many I came up with?
None.

Not too many I'm afraid.

I have dealt with a lot of crisis

involving mom

involving dad

current crisis included.

It's a mixed up, messed up story

that would take a book to write.

The feelings (as I tried to portray on the right)

seem to blend and bleed and dump into a big black hole.

Luckily for me

I have learned how to separate (for the most part)

that aspect of my life from the rest.

I am extremely thankful for that!