In the Mists of My Mind ~ Part 3 of 3

 

     I could not for the life of me figure out how to express ... to myself ... how I was feeling in all of that time.  But I knew that I wasn't me being myself during this period, if you can see what I mean.  I have read voraciously ever since I was a child and learned to read.  I have been writing ever since I learned how to write and about rhyming words.  I began keeping the things I wrote when I was fifteen years old.  Except for the time when I had children and didn't have time to eat or sleep let alone write anything, even then I managed a few poems each year.  I have always written poems and I have especially, "always" been a reader.  So what happened?  What was the problem?

     Before you say it, I knew it was grief, but I couldn't understand the lack of interest in reading, writing, or interacting with my children and yet desperately wanting to want to do all three of these things.  Instead I flitted from one thing to another like a hummingbird choosing which flower to seek nectar from.  I knew there was a way to define what was going on.  I, a writer, just couldn't figure out how to define it in words myself, let alone to anyone else.

     Well, during the week of 9/11 this year, I was watching the programs they have on, as I always do, and low and behold, one of the firemen who had survived the Twin Tower attacks explained it in one simple sentence.  He said, "After we finally got to go home, I would go home and do anything I could do so I didn't have to think." 

     Slowly over time, just before the OWFI Conference, my mind began to clear.  I began to write in my journal first. Then thoughts for the poetry books I am working on began to pop up in my head and I would jot those down.  Then a thought here and a thought there to add to the novel I am working on began drifting through my mind and I would write those down.  I finally realized I was writing again.  The champagne bubbles were running through my veins again.  The excitement and joy of creating was mine again.  I was returning to life.

     I have begun to read again.  I have stopped playing games on my computer (as often) and have begun to do more than function, I have begun to live again. To feel alive.  To dream again.  To hope again.  God carried me through the storm.  Now He is leading me into my future.  It still isn’t like it was before.  I am sure it never will like it was before again.  I deal with fears and concerns about what I will do to earn a living.  How I will cope with those emergencies that pop up when I had Bob here to keep me grounded.  How I will survive without him there to support and help me.  I do know God is in control and whatever happens He will lead me through the day to day life and comfort me during those times when I miss Robert the most.  It is a difficult road, as many people are aware, but my journey through life has resumed and my heart sings again and my minds joyfully dances with creating and fluttering from one project to the next.

The Next Step - The First POEM

This blog is an incredible opportunity for me to share my poetry and writing with (others) you.  I have invited you to come along on a journey of discovery and creativity. Part of this blog is about discovering who I am after almost 30 years with my late husband and suddenly finding myself alone and hurting after losing him out of the blue last year. It took over a year after his burial to come out of the shock and begin to feel life again. To think again. To read again. To write again. I made myself get out of bed and function so I thought I was doing great. It wasn't until the unbearable pain I faced on the anniversary of  his death and a few months passed that I began to actually live again, not just function. So this blog is about discovering who I am without my husband, love and mate.

Another part of my blog is facing aging with grace and humor. I am 53 years old. That number does not bother me as it does some women. This is because God brought me through a childhood of violence, abuse, and the knowledge of not being loved or protected by those who are supposed to love and protect their children to reach this amazing beginning of life. Living to be this age is a miracle and a blessing to me. I must say the years don't bother me; what bothers me is the fact my body has decided to, not only, quit, hiccup, and give me problems, but to change. What was firm is soft. What could be counted on has become dysfunctional. What was headed north is now headed south. (Now I do have a humorous poem on that, but not today.) Growing up in an age where you didn't talk about anything, I have been absolutely shocked to feel and see how my body is changing and not necessarily for the more positive. This part of aging is an education and a revelation to me. I don't want to be grumpy and dopey now. I would rather be happy and joyful and full of grace.

I am in a learning curve and excited to see where this journey will take me. Do I blog Monday through Friday or every other day? Will I share a thought once, or twice a week? Will I share a poem once, or twice, a week? How will this blog play out? Will I find my rhythm, my pattern, my niche'? I won't fail because I am not going to give up. This is a road on my journey to being a published and successful author.  I can't wait to see what happens. I hope you will go on this journey of discovery with me.
 
       Resting in God's
       Peaceful Haven
 
The day has been fraught
   with tension and stress.
My body is weary.
   My mind is a mess.
I feel worn out and
   weak in the knees.
My heart seeks quiet.
   My soul seeks peace.
I settle myself in a
   comfortable chair.
Bowing my head I
   seek God in prayer.
I have no petition, no
   concern or request.
I ask only He touch me
   with Christ's gentleness.
I invite the Holy Spirit
   to reign down on me
To renew my spirit and
   grant me God's peace.
I invite Jesus in to
   share this time.
I rest in His presence
   and drink of His wine.
I have been emptied by
   the stress of the day
But God gives me strength
   as I quietly pray.
With compassion and grace
   God fills my cup.
He touches my soul
   and fills me with love.
In this precious moment
   I sit at God's throne.
Resting in His arms.
   I don't walk alone.
When my cup has been filled
   and my spirit revived;
When I feel renewed,
   refreshed and alive;
When I am relaxed and
   at peace once again
And God's Holy Spirit
   has soothed from within,
Then I give thanks
   to God up above
for His forgiveness,
   compassion, and love.

It's Right to Write

I ask myself, "Okay! You've started a blog. Now what?"

Myself says, "Now, you find your voice. You find out if you have anything to say that will brighten someone's day or help them in any way." (No rhyme intended.)  "You find out, Self, if your love of words and weaving them into poems, thoughts, and stories will reach hearts, minds, and souls. Out of all of the amazingly talented men and women out there, can you possibly be one of them. Do you, Self, indeed have the gift you believe God has given you?"

Only time will answer that question.

The facts for now are these: I love to write! I love everything about writing. I love the feel of pen or pencil gripped between my fingers as my hand slides across cool, smooth paper. I delight in the rainbow colors that spread across my journal as I put down my days thoughts, actions, and feelings. I love the feel of the typewriter, now the laptop or tablet, as I tap-tap-tap the letters on the keys making words. Words become sentences. Sentences become paragraphs, until eventually a poem or story begin to emerge. Sometimes, I even enchant myself with my words; until later when I begin to wonder what others may think. (Self-doubt, this writers curse.)

A blank sheet of paper, screen, or my journal become the venue where I pour out my heart and soul as my vision is transferred from my head through my fingers to the canvas before me.  A thought becomes an idea, a poem, a story.

As I create with my mind, my heart pounds with excited anticipation, my mind reverberates with joy, my soul sings. I feel alive and energized as my mind soars free and my fingers capture the visions, scenes, and thoughts in my head. If you could bottle the electric pulses running through my veins as I let my mind take control and my fingers obey what it is telling me, you could power the world.

Until next time, my Friends, follow your dreams.