I was born on a Monday and I always love it when my birthday falls on a Monday. Just finished the cake with my sweetie, my dad and my daughter here. My mom’s down the street, probably enjoying the cake I sent home to her with my dad. 9:09PM another year turns for me. I love that my birthday month is the same month as the Jewish New Year. There’s lots of love going around on a birthday if we are fortunate. I am.
I’ve been blowing through countless mysteries in between the non-fiction I read. Books are my escape, my solace, part of my journey and healing when I am scared and uncertain. They are my self-soothing default (besides prayers) when I am struggling with what is beyond my control (essentially everything that is not myself).
When Women Were Birds has been on my must read list for some time (as are Williams’ other books). Her words and Rebecca Solnitt’s resonate profoundly with a deeper part of myself that I’ve neglected for the past several years, and it’s time for another resurrection. It’s that part of myself that recognizes a sacred path, and that I will be okay if I can trust. Trust is so scary when there is that constant fear of loss.
I start drafting blog posts, and then question how much of my monkey mind I want to share. So I will leave you with another quote today, one I discovered on Milla’s blog (I was familiar with Terry Tempest Williams from listening to NPR for so many years but have yet to read any of her books!).
Because of this quote (and a few others), I’m not feeling as resistant to the word Crone these days. Besides men at this stage of life hanging together are sometimes referred to as “cronies!” And I think of myself more and more as Crow. I love Crow.
So, a quote for you and a link for you also. Don’t know when I’ll have time to read her blog, but I do love that she practices NVC, and has some great new-to-me words (like “destuckification”) in her personal glossary.
“Once upon a time, when women were birds, there was the simple understanding that to sing at dawn, and to sing at dusk, was to heal the world through joy. The birds still remember what we have forgotten, that the world is meant to be celebrated.”
…don’t get the blues. Bullshit. For this wild woman anyway. Because I am a wild woman, I get the blues. Always have. This revelation hit me this morning on my walk to the beach with Bob. For the first time I realized, hey the blues ain’t so bad. There a good thing for me as I prefer myself in my wild state.
Sometimes if you want a relationship with someone badly enough, perhaps you have to settle for it on their terms, so long as it doesn’t mean allowing yourself to get beat up. This is how it is with my mother. I can’t totally shut her out of my life and yet her toxicity has had a huge affect on my life. I don’t want to blame, but I do want to break free and live a life of joy and wonder. But how do I find that life? I am still searching. In the meantime, I think I do not want to have regrets when my mother is gone — regrets that I could have done more, visited her more, called her more. I’ve tried at one time or another, and I have had some good memories with my mom, but there is also a lingering melancholy that persists and sometimes it drowns me. I want joy and wonder. I am not sure where to look for it. But this is how I feel today. Tomorrow I meet my childhood girlfriend and the sun is supposed to shine. And that is one place I will find that joy.
Yay Yay Yay — I did it! yesterday after resigning from my employment of the past 8 months I tried to add Christine’s button to my blog, but was going about it wrong.
I had an aha! moment when Marty and I were out for a drive doing errands, and figured out how to save the images.
Am thinking about buying her book. I am needing inspiration and sustenance big time. Of the creative kind. It’s about engaging, community, connection and so forth.
For the second time within the past two years I am unemployed, and a bit scared this go round as there will most likely be no unemployment. I have been marketing my granny nanny business (we have a huge elder population here on the cape) and through my recent work with primarily memory-impaired elders I realized what a joy it can be working with that population. And given that my beloved Evelyn died almost a year ago after her slow decline from Alzheimers, it is something I believe I’d enjoy continuing with. Part-time. I need something else too, particularly connection with kindred souls.
I tend to be all over the place creatively which is a problem for me. I envy people who know bling! this is my passion, this is my bliss — whether it be writing, cooking, gardening, painting, mixed media, sewing, knitting, whatever.
Part of the problem is that I tend to be good at many of the things I dabble in. I am not bragging, this is a huge part of the problem. It makes it very difficult to ground myself and focus on completing creative work to put out into the world because I get overwhelmed with the choices. So I end up frozen. Doing nothing but blogsurfing seeking inspiration, wisdom or whatever will light my fire to get my mojo moving. Hence, the be brave button is very meaningful to me.
Now I just need a stick with it button too. Commitment. Back to Christine’s blog to see if there’s something else to light a fire under my butt. I like this one