Celebrating Autumn, Celebrating Change

I woke this morning and tried to snuggle down into the warmth of my covers, but words formed in my head that demanded attention. A scene for my book  that I didn’t want to lose.

I jumped out of bed and grabbed my laptop. The cover held the chill of the morning air, on this–the last day of summer.

I began to write.

The bustle of the morning surrounded me. Nathan returned from walking the dogs. Sarah got up and began her normal morning routine which consists of babbling every thought that comes into her head while juggling the tasks required to get her to school including food, clothes, tooth brushing and (because she forgot to do it yesterday) bag packing.

I paused just long enough to make sure everyone stayed on task.

The school bus pulled away with my child safely aboard, and Nathan said, “Breakfast?”

“Sure,” I said. But that was as far as I got. My ideas flew across the keyboard. I couldn’t be bothered to stop to make a choice about food.

I eventually decided on yogurt mixed with Grapenuts and my usual chai.

Nathan made me stop long enough to say goodbye.

Several hours and about 4300 words later (a full chapter, a chapter revision for my instructor, and the beginning of another chapter) I came up for air and said, “What happened to the morning?”

Since I had an errand to run before Sarah’s return from school, I pulled myself away and headed out the door. I decided to treat myself, and exercise my body, with a visit to my favorite Botanical Gardens which you have met at other points on this blog, from other seasons. While I missed the high summer beauty of this place, since I was out-of-state for most of the summer, I haven’t  been disappointed by the change occurring as the fading blossoms of summer meet the growing glory of autumn. I forgot my camera on my first visit there last week, but remedied that today.

As I drove toward the gardens, I suddenly realized how lucky I am in this ever-changing life I lead. I still can feel overwhelmed by some of the questions and concerns that pop into my head, such as:

• How do I deal with the fact that I never know quite how much money I will make from one season to the next, because there are no guarantees?
• My disappointment that one of the projects I was most excited about, a program to promote literacy through drama, might not happen because of cutbacks in funding.
• The question of whether or not I’ll ever find an audience for my book, or if it will simply be another project I complete and tuck away to gather dust.
• How do I pay for all of the events and conferences that I need to participate in if I want to make connections and grow as an artist/writer/educator/speaker?

But, despite those thoughts floating in my head, I realized on the drive that I love the journey. I love the fact that I could give myself the afternoon off. I was able to treat myself to a ginger carrot soup made out of fresh ingredients at the Botanical Garden’s cafe. I had worked hard all week, and though I have more to do, I am able to say “now is the time to walk in nature and feel the sun on my face.” I love being able to set my own schedule which includes writing a list on a yellow pad everyday and then crossing it off with a sharpie. This some kind of visceral pleasure in seeing those lines cross off goals that I achieve on a daily basis.

I found myself smiling during my walk, and the smile wouldn’t go away.

Today I realized that I will forget about all my worries and celebrate the changes the my life brings. It’s an adventure, and I always find away.

I hope you join me and enjoy the beauty of change.

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Searching for Small Blessings

A house in chaos. A challenging night’s sleep. Ant carcasses all over the floor. An absent partner. A dwindling bank account. Insurance documents that have gone AWOL. Dentist appointments and dance recital photos.

Add them all together, and it feels a little difficult to view the world with gentler eyes. Yet, I am determined.

I sit on my deck listening to the wind, and find a place of peace.

I read the words of Anne Morrow Lindbergh in Gift From the Sea, and find a message of patience:

“To dig for treasures shows not only impatience and greed, but lack of faith. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should like empty, open, choiceless as a beach–waiting for a gift from the sea.”

I search for the moments of blessing from this past week. I suddenly recall I owe belated thanks for two blog awards offered to me this week, despite my disappearance in the blogosphere of late. The first was The Versatile Blogger Award from Zencherry who embraces life with joyous abandon! I always appreciate her comments and her attitude to life. Please go and visit her!

The second award came from Stuart over at bornstoryteller who gave me the One Lovely Blog Award. Stuart and I lead similar lives and face similar struggles as we try to find a way to live our passions and thrive creatively. We even have the same blog design. I am truly grateful for having “met” Stuart and inspired by his work and his passion. Thank you for the award.

Now that I have thanked both of them, and recognized the blessing of being honored by people I admire, I am now going to break the rules by NOT passing the awards on. Why? Because of the journey I am on. I am beginning to recognize the value of focusing on the project and creation, rather than on the numbers and the recognition. I find myself drowning and overwhelmed when I think things like:

• will I ever be published?
• why don’t I have more followers?
• why aren’t my stats higher?
• am I as good a writer as ______?
• why does _________ get so much attention while I don’t?
• why didn’t __________ give that award to me?

Those questions lead only to more chaos.

So, I am choosing not to promote more competition by passing on awards. I try my best to honor quality posts by commenting and linking to them and sometimes even recommending them for Freshly Pressed status. I support my favorite bloggers by visiting them as often as possible, and interacting with them on a regular basis. I cannot choose who is the loveliest or the most versatile or anything else, because I have finally come to the realization that blogging (for me) is not about competition or recognition, but about sharing and writing and challenging myself to improve as a writer, an artist and a person.

This new sense of understanding and clarity is a blessing.

Yesterday, I shared my favorite place, the Botanical Garden with my brother, Steve (who you may know as Taochild). We are both at a place of transition in our lives. We are both seeking to change negatives into positives and reinvent ourselves in a world of confusion. As we walked, I felt joy in myself, because I could walk in such a beautiful place, and I have the ability to change my life even when it is difficult.

As we approached one of my favorite places in the garden, a pond that is home to creatures of all types, I began to listen with my heart. The song of the pond was absolutely amazing. We tried to capture it on Steve’s phone, despite the drone of the lawn mower in the distance and the chatter of people who, of course, decided to stop and talk right behind us.

The first place we listened. The Gazebo lies across the pond.

So we moved into the shelter of the overlooking gazebo, and listened. I pulled out my idea notebook and my journal. I handed him the notebook and said, “Your assignment, should you choose to accept it, is to write about the sounds of nature.”  This is what I wrote:

Sproing

Trill

Chirp

Sproing

Kerro

Flutter

Foghorn

I sit surrounded by communication expressed in a language just beyond my understanding. Frogs calling, spring, kerro, perhaps two species searching for a mate. Birds singing trill, chirp, chatter, peep, flutter– a universe of warnings, beckoning, challenges, celebrations. In the distance, the drone of the lawn mower–human intrusion in a world we don’t own. The giggle of a child. Flutter splash, a bird diving for sustenance or simply resting in the collness of the water. The breeze sings, a low rumble in the ears carrying with it the scents and messages of unknown flowers. I am surrounded by the melodic symphony of silence.

Moments like that are moments of blessing.

As I waited for Steve to finish writing, my mind remained open and alert to the moment and I saw this:

Light reflecting on the water bounces up to dance on the rough-hewn wood of the gazebo. It is a virtual song.

After our walk, we had lunch and ate the MOST DELICIOUS FLAN in the history of the world.

The ability to see, smell, here, taste, touch, experience, wonder, live, breathe, write, sing, dance, hope, and dream all are the true blessings of existence.

Even on dark days, it is possible to find hope.

Word Chaos

The Versatile Blogger Award (Photo credit: nhighberg)

First I must thank Rossandra White for nominating me for another Versatile Blogger Award yesterday. I am not going to do it justice because:

• I am a rebel (in my own mind) who doesn’t want to follow rules.
• I have written about this award here and here and here.
• I can’t think of seven random facts about myself that I haven’t already written about or that anyone would find remotely interesting.
• I love too many bloggers and find so much versatility in so many places I cannot pick 15. I think any of the people who I visit on a regular basis are incredibly talented. That’s what keeps me coming back, at first, and then those relationships have grown into (dare I say) friendships. I am just honored to be part of this amazingly versatile community.

So instead of passing on the award, I’m sending you all some flowers and a virtual hug.

Photo taken at the Botanical Gardens at Smith College

But now for the real words that want to be heard today:

WORD CHAOS

Sometimes words suffocate
crowding into my mind
in the moment between sleep
and awake
where dream fragments
fight for attention with
the to do list of the day.

Words fill my brain
streaming sentences written
across the sky or
spoken in silent voices
tempting me with images and possibilities
but then dancing away
on hummingbird wings
the speeding buzz
of ideas never to be caught.

I yearn for silence
but then the loneliness fills the void
and doubts creep in.
“Who are you without words?”
a voiceless whisper asks.
“Take away your thoughts,
your brain, your intelligence,
and you will find an empty shell.”

But I am not empty.
Words cannot control me.
Loneliness cannot define me.
Self-doubt cannot destroy me.
Because though words do have power,
I have power over words.