“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”

― Sylvia Plath

Guts. That’s what this is taking. Guts.

I have a fabulous way of visualizing all of my next steps. I can clearly see how I want something to go, how it should go, and how it will go. I see it. In full color. The thing I’ve always struggled with is actually doing the steps. The thought of someone not liking my work would be all it would take for me to stall. I couldn’t muster up the guts to put into action what I so clearly saw in my head. I will give a quick example. I wrote a children’s story when I was 28, way back in 1993. Yep….29 years ago. I love it. It’s a wonderful story that I am so incredibly proud of. Yet even though I’ve made countless New Year’s resolutions that this would be the year that I would, at the very least, copyright the story, it never happened. It always seemed easy enough when I thought about it and made my plan, but I just never had the guts to do it.

Finally, I have gotten to the point in my life where I simply do not place so much emphasis on what others think of my writing. Admittedly, this is new territory for me, but losing the weight of other peoples opinions of me and my work, has been very freeing. While there are still times I get in my own way, I am happy and proud to say that I have now in my possession the copyright for my unpublished story, Marvin the Mouse In Search Of The Perfect Christmas Present. I recognize this is one small step, and may not seem like much of an accomplishment, but I had the guts to go on to the next step; which is more then I can say for my past self. Another added bonus is that it has stirred up some more guts!

I decided to start (again) this blog to share my writing with everyone. I know I am ready for it to come with whatever it comes with. I am excited for it all because my story, my thoughts, my feelings, and my writings really need a place to go. They deserve more then just me. In this heavy social media world we all live in, most of us have become somewhat programmed to place value on our work, photos, experiences, and such by the number of “likes” we receive on the platform we selected to share those moments on. I realize that I just want to experience as much as I can. I am in control of most of that. The joy I get from writing fills me to the brim. If someone likes it, well that’s an added bonus because I want my words to be helpful, but my focus is to go for more and show up with guts.

Back in the day, I used to always say “I want to be a famous writer”. Seems strange at 56 to have such an easy time admitting just how ridiculous that makes me feel now. What I want now is to live and enjoy the process. I want to be honest. I want to be brave. I want be present with my past, present, and future. I want to speak my truth. I want to be real with my feelings, words, and even my worry. I want others to have that same freedom. Most of all, I just want to write.

I’m proud of myself. I am looking forward to this journey with guts and grace, and I hope that I will meet some new friends along the way.

I’m back

The last time I sat down to write on this blog was way back in 2015. It’s unbelievable to me how 7 years can pass so quickly? It feels like my life has been this constant feeling of there’s not enough time and time moves so fast to time feeling like it is dragging, and I’m not sure what to do with all of my time. I, like most people, have my phone in my hand a larger portion of my day then I should. I randomly check my multiple social media sites, and I often stumble upon some delicious recipes and some thought provoking quotes that I save. Most go into my favorites folder and there they stay. Every once in a while one quote will stop me in my tracks and change me. I immediately know that I will have a lifelong reaction to the words I just read. This happened to me just the other day while mindlessly looking through Facebook, the site Tiny Buddha popped up, and I read the following:

“It’s a unique brand of pain when other people remember a deceased person for lots of positive qualities that you yourself never got to see. It’s even more painful when that person was your parent.”

It’s amazing to me how a quote on Facebook can awaken the feelings that I have always had about my mother, but never had the ability to string my feelings into words to make this much sense. I sit here tonight a 56 year old happily married mom of 2 incredible young men who has been trying to find the words to express to every single person in my life how it feels, almost 41 years later, to know that my mother was not the person to me that her other children and people in her life remember.

I didn’t get the version of her that they got. I can say for absolute that their memories of her are their versions of the relationship they shared, yet when I express my memories, I am often shut down with comments like “she was a wonderful mother”, “she was my best friend”, and “she gave her all to her children”. All of those would never be the words I would choose to define the mother daughter relationship she and I shared. Granted I was 15 when she died and she was only 40, there is a whole story there – but staying on this quote for this conversation, I really felt a weight lifted to finally have read the words that expressed the real pain the memory of my mother always covers me with.

I vividly remember she was in so much pain from the cancer that was killing her, and she spent many, many days in bed. There she often stayed with her other children right after she would tell me to go out and play. She never asked me to stay bedside with her. I went outside, every time. I went to go play with my friends, the people who wanted me around. Of course this time span for me was from age 13 through 15, which are very important molding years for young girls. Whether she knew it or not, each time she allowed me to walk out of that bedroom the hurt grew. I learned to begin the distancing dance, and I have been doing it every day since.

Instead of having a mama who taught me tenderness and togetherness, my mom’s decision to let me go – out to play – taught me that I am ultimately alone and it taught me how to keep people at arms length. I got her message, and I grew with that blueprint. It wasn’t until I was well into my 30’s that my husband and my babies taught me that I have 3 people who want me around every single day.

I rarely look back to my mom and my memories of her for guidance on how to parent, instead I take my memories of her and my relationship and know that she taught me what not to do. I have soaked up every single second I have with my children. They are the best gifts I have every received, equally. I could never imagine my asking one of them to stay while shooing the other one away, for whatever reasons. I have days where time goes slow and others where it rushes by, but each and every day I have the one gift my mother did give me, my life. My life is filled with love for my little family. I love those 3 men with all my heart and soul, and I let them know multiple times a day that they are loved by me forever and always.