Sometimes There is Silence

I haven’t posted in over a week. I’ve started several posts, but they went nowhere and remain floating in the draft folder as future possibilities.

I’m not blocked. I simply have nothing to say.

I hoped for a spark from the 100 Word Challenge, but no . . . it doesn’t inspire me this week.

I have nothing to say.

The hilarious and talented Tori over at The Ramblings offered me a Sunshine Blogger Award as well as an invitation of sorts to play Blog Tag, if I understood her post correctly. Since it feels rare to get an invite to play, and because I like the image for this award, I decided to break my silence for now, even though I still have nothing to say.

So I will attempt to answer Tori’s question, but in typical rebellious Lisa fashion I will not tag anyone else at the moment. Not that I don’t think you there are many wonderful, sunshiny blogs and bloggers out there, but I simply cannot come up with any questions to ask because, I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY! I am also not nearly as funny or interesting as Tori, so my questions would be mundane in comparison. Here is my attempt to say something out of nothing:

1. Life is all about making David Letterman happy. What’s your most entertaining Stupid Human Trick? I make the best guppy face in the history of the world. I also learned recently that I am unable to pop popcorn on the stove without destroying the pot and my ego . . . that takes talent.

2. What’s your most traumatic experience? Dancing with a man dressed as a woman who was being forced into prostitution by the Japanese mafia. For the full story read “A Strange Day in Japan”

3. What one word best describes you? Freak?

4. Cake or Cake? (Note: Trick Question!) Cake, of course, with rich frosting.

5. If you were a celebrity and thus legally obligated to name your offspring something horrendous, what would your little bundle of publicity’s name be? Success

6. Who would win in a girly pop/dance/hair flip battle, Bieber or Beyoncé? I have to vote for Beyoncé, because if you ask me to even look at Bieber my eyes would start to bleed.

7. How much wood could a woodchuck chuck? I don’t know how much wood a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood, but I wonder how many words would a wordless woman write when a wordless woman has no words?

8. If given the opportunity to get away with it, who or what would you like to punch? Anyone trying to trample on the rights of women anywhere.

9. Desperate  times call for weird measures. What strange career would you try to make that money, honey? I refuse to answer on the grounds that my life is a strange career already.

10. What’s one thing you can’t live without? Sleep

11. The most important question of all of ever and everything: Big Spoon or Little? Spork? How about chopsticks?

There you have it folks, my attempt to have something to say when perhaps the world is better of if I simply remain SILENT.

Sometimes silence is the answer.

Fighting Frustration and Fatigue

Yesterday I wrote a post from passion. I was proud of that post.  Now, I knew not expect to be Freshly Pressed, as I didn’t have any images that came from me, and I simply don’t make the criteria or the cut for whatever reason. But, I admit, to feeling a little deflated today. I was hoping for something more.  More reaction. More comment. Disagreements or anger even. While it instigated a couple of responses, in particular this wonderful post at Life of Jamie, I feel like my post was a whisper when I was hoping for a scream

We need more screams!

Today I was sent this petition which supports my theory that they are afraid of our voices. If “they” do not let us be heard, then their power is not threatened.

I fear “they” will win, because nothing seems to break the silence.

I admit to feeling frustrated. My second anniversary of this blog approaches, and, while I recognize that I have come far, I still feel sometimes that my voice is faint. I especially feel that when I write from passion and feel like in the end I accomplish nothing.

I took Sarah to the museum today, hoping to find inspiration to combat this overwhelming fatigue. I found myself looking for Goddess images–looking for the feminine divine, where women’s voices meant something and represented strength.

However, my search does not defeat the fatigue, despite finding some images that spoke to me. I forced myself to sit down and write something, anything to break through. Yet, as I search for the images to share, two things happen. First I find an image to remind me of why I should write and why I should fight (I include it amid the goddesses . . . guess which one it is). The second is this short but sweet little post announcing the birth of a girl. Welcome BabyHab, you are worth fighting for.

Keep it Simple

Words heard in a complicated dream:

“Keep it simple.”

I understand the words, but I don’t know what they mean.

My ideas are too complicated. My thoughts are too muddled. My hopes are too intricate.

I must learn simplicity.

I have started many stories, but get lost in their complexity.

I have started many projects, only to lose my way.

In the past I accomplished all my goals, even if they were complex. But now I struggle even though I have fewer immediate expectations.

I function better in chaos, but not the chaos that is my mind. So now it is time to simplify.

But what exactly does that mean?

Simple perfection.

Only time will tell as I sit and listen to the silence.

Thinking About Silence

Silent sunrise in the back woods.

I have been thinking a lot about silence lately.

The silence that comes when my own screaming voice seems to run out of words.

The silence of women who watch as the government tries to strip us of our voices, our control of our own bodies, our rights to live as equals in a world where men wish to control the power.

The silence of people who watch and support hatred, racism, bullying, inequality rather than speak out in a world where the loudest, squeakiest wheel holds the power.

The silence of my blog, where I write and write, and pour my soul out to reach only the few who choose to listen, who choose to hear.

The silence of my house, where I struggle to find purpose after an adventure full of purpose.

I have been thinking about choosing silence. Choosing not to speak, because it is too hard. Choosing not to defend your beliefs, your dreams, your hopes. Choosing to stand by and let the world continue without you, since your loudest screams and calls do not seem loud enough.

But choosing silence does not work.

I cannot teach my daughter silence.

I have been thinking about the times I have spoken and the times I have not. About the words I have written and the words I can not write.

I have been thinking about what kind of voice I want mine to be.

I have no answers.

But I believe that, if I listen to my own silence, eventually I will find a way to be heard.

Sitting in silence, hoping for some answers.

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