Another Silly Girl

I have this list of things that keep banging around in my brain. Things that I’ve toyed with but never made real. Instead of just floating in and out listlessly, I’m going make them known. This is a living list that will change as I change.

1. Become a published author
2. Win Caldecott award
3. Have a story I’ve written become a movie
4. Own my own business
5. Learn to play the piano
6. Take horseback ridding lessons – English style
7. Make yoga a daily practice
8. Make meditation a daily practice
9. Take dance lessons
10. Learn pottery
11. Have pottery studio
12. Have a pottager garden
13. Host a cookie swap party
14. Host a cupcake swap party
15. Order Italian food in Italy while speaking Italian
16. Scan all my family’s pictures
17. Learn about investing money
18. Preserve garden food like my grandma did
19. Make a quilt
20. Start nonprofit
21. Learn web design
22. Wear a new dress everyday for a week
23. Recycle and compost
24. Learn to take great pictures
25. Take sketching leasons
26. Learn the constellations
27. Learn how to braid my hair
28. Volunteer at a soup kitchen
29. Jump out of an airplane with a working chute
30. Attend a concert every year
31. Attend a play every year
32. Color a mandala
33. Learn how to play guitar
34. Read a book a month
35. Host a dinner party
36. Learn how to sail

I did write yesterday for 10 minutes but sent whatever thoughts I had into the abyss. Today it’s procrastination which I am the master. Let me eat breakfast before beginning. Let me go to Radio Shack for a power cable that can run this keyboard that has sat in my living room for a couple of months. Let me clean my basement out which hasn’t been cleaned since I moved in 8 years ago. Why is my crazy brain sabotaging this dream?

I can only think of two reasons right now. Fear and change. Let’s address the fear first. I attended a writing conference years ago. We did exercises that I participated in but would not share with others. I sat there thinking “OMG their writing has so much more depth than mine.” I don’t want them to hear my crap. I sat there thinking “you don’t belong.” I realize now that it doesn’t matter who likes my writing. (Although a publisher liking it would be freaking wonderful along with generations of children and adults.) It’s for me and if someone likes it well that’s wonderful. Writing doesn’t have to follow someone else’s style either. Everyone is different. That doesn’t make it wrong or right. Just different.

Now let’s address the change. I can eat a turkey sandwich for lunch everyday for months. I can also stay at a company for 11 years and not jump ship. There’s something about comfort that my brain likes.  I may not be blissed out by eating a plan turkey sandwich everyday but anything else may result in still being hungry afterward. My change usually is a product of pain. The pain of staying the same is more than the change. I need a reversal of that pattern. I need see change as happiness not as an end to pain.

I know deep down I’m meant for this other life. Any procrastinating thoughts are just products of fear and change which will be labeled as trash talk going forward. Tonight I’ll make up for yesterday and spend another 15 minutes toward my dreams. Wish me luck.

I’ve been reading a lot of spiritual, metaphysical and self-help books for the past year. Everything from The Dhammapada to The Secret to Steven Covey to The Tao of Pooh. I can be all over the place when reading. I go into a library and just look until something draws me in. This time it was a little book called “This Year I Will…” I liked it because the bubbles on the front looked like suckers. Each one had an intention. I’ve intended most of them at one time or another. Lose weight, enjoy life more, get organized, exercise more, on and on and on. After reading, I’ve decided to make this my year for writing and as an extension my life as a writer.

That’s why this blog was started many moons ago. A friend knew my desire and helped me set one up. I have gotten a little lost along the way but am hoping as Steven Covey would say, “Put first things first.” My first goal will be concrete and doable. Not the whole ball of wax. That would freak me out. I’d see a mountain and go back to bed. A tiny mole hill will be much easier. I need to make a strong habit so I can continue toward a bigger end. This would include a few things…

1. Publish a children’s novels and have them sitting in schools, libraries, homes, bookstores, and electronic media for everyone’s enjoyment.
2. Receive the Newberry and Caldecott awards
3. Have one of my stories turned into a movie and narrated someone famous like Sigourney Weaver or Susan Sarandon

I’ve had the “big” dreams enforcing the path. One involved going through a trap door in the floor into a room filled with gold, pearls and other treasures. I knew all those things in the room belonged to me but I dug below all those things and found what was most precious…you guessed it. MY BOOK! Another dream involved me winning an award for literature at a children’s book convention held on the Indiana University campus. This is my dream but it should be more. It will be my reality.

I woke up this morning smiling knowing that I might not know all the what, where, why and hows for this. Interestingly enough, I received an email at work. They had two free spots for a writing conference being held next week. First come first serve and you better believe I was served. I’ve even exceeded my goal for the day of writing for 15 minutes. Yippy yeah!

The need for a creative outlet has brought me to Spot 5 Art Studio for pottery lessons. It’s an eclectic little place where photography, pottery and art abound. The pottery studio floors are stained with paint and clay debris. It is my Never Never Land and I am a lost girl who needs fun and adventure and a place where I can forget.  Peter Pan is my teacher who has taught me many lessons.  

Lesson 1: Become Centered. Everything hinges on this most basic concept. You must guide the clay up and down on the spinning wheel. The faster the wheel the better. I’m proud to say I only have to bring it up and down a couple of times. Usually it can take 10-15 tries for the clay body to become centered. This has given me hope. Hope that I can become centered as easily as the clay.

Lesson 2: Open Up. Before the clay can become anything, you must open it up by sticking your fingers in the center and gently pushing down. Opening up makes me feel vulnerable for many reasons. I’m not sure what I will find at the bottom when I start digging deep inside myself. I’m scared there’s nothing and something all at the same time. Scared of my potential. I don’t want other’s knowing my demons. Truly seeing and rejecting everything that is me. Both ugly and beautiful.  

Lesson 3: Go With It. I’m right handed but I throw pottery with my left hand. It feels natural. I center with my right and create with my left. Go figure. There are so many times in life when I should have went with feelings and instincts. It’s strange but I know things. Intuition. I’m a deeply sensing, feeling person. Now if I would just listen and act accordingly. It’s never steered me wrong.

Lesson 4: Be The Boss. For the clay to become centered, you can’t let it throw you around the wheel. You must take control. Become steady and strong. Don’t let the clay have it’s way. You are the boss. I laughed so hard when she told me this. It was definetly my favorite lesson. I’m tired of being acted on. I want to make my own life. Free not caged by anyone else’s desires.

Lesson 5: Again Go With It. Even though I had my heart set on a vase, for some crazy reason I make chalices. It must be a Catholic thing. Sometimes, the whole thing breaks down in front of you. Jobs, friendships, lovers. You can’t keep it from happening. You just make the best of it. I’m making the best of it. My grandma made the best of it. She did so much with what little she had. An amazing woman. My mentor and hero.

Lesson 6: Don’t Push Hard. I’ve got a wicked 3 inch gash on my right hand. I was trying too hard when I could have relaxed and let things flow naturally. I do this in relationships and get hurt. I try too hard and lose myself in the process. Just like the gash in my hand from pottery, the pain will fade, the scars will fade and nothing will be wasted for I will only remember the laughter and fun.

My teacher said that I’ve done more in a few weeks than she did in two years. I went in knowing that pottery would come naturally for me. I had lost this confidence somewhere. It had been chipped away over the years. I’m glad this part of me has returned. Glad for all the lessons learned. Glad to be the child again who can create anything out of rocks and mud. I missed the girl who was lost and I have found her.

I realize that any misery in my life has been caused by not letting go. Other people don’t cause my pain. I do by not letting go when I should. It’s my stubbornness about knowing I’m right about things when I’m so very wrong. I kept going against what I should do and kept plunging ahead with what I knew was “right”. Deep inside myself I knew I was wrong. I should have let you go in high school. I should have let you go in college. I should have let you go all those times you slept with other women. I finally let you go after we had a son because I saw how wrong I had been. The pain was too much for me to keep repeating again. I feel somehow that if I would have let you go sooner we could have avoided all the pain. In the very end, I was always meant to let you go. I need to figure out how to forgive myself now. I’m not sure how that works or what it looks like. I’m just going to end by saying I don’t know.

I finally decided to wake up after my second nap today and found that the rain started drizzling without me. Just a smidge coming straight down landing into brown clumps of earth. In between my little naps, I’m feeling poohish and oh bother. It’s wonderful for just this sort of day when the gray clouds blanket the sky. A happy do nothing day I say. That’s what a day like today is for. Eat when you feel like it. Drink when you feel like it. Sleep when you feel like it. It’s better than any sunny day running around from place to place with your heading spinning behind you. Don’t get me wrong. I love a sunny day with the heat pouring through and out my toes but there’s something about the rain. It can bring a violence that whips the trees into its’ will and bursts furry across the sky. Yelling its’ rage and making its’ presence known. It can smother the light and bring pitch black with ease and that’s when I become a kid. Wanting that feeling of knowing who I am and the power of change. The sun is so subtle bringing things about but a good storm makes you aware. You cannot ignore it. So bring the rain into my life. Make me see myself reflected in its’ drops.

I don’t deserve to be this lucky. It makes me cry. The best thing in the world and he picked me. Out of all the mommies, he picked me. He’s asleep right now. Purring as contented as a little kitten. Small little hiccups and deep sighs escape as he breaths soundly. He loves me so utterly and blindly. All my craziness and faults. He loves me. Everyday he loves me.

Every Monday through Friday I pass by a piano store. Everyday craning my neck for a peak of the elegance inside. This week I made the impulsive leap inside. Wandering around the sleek curves and glossy ebony frames. Listening as a master player coaxed sweetness that rests until awakened. I felt inspired inside those walls. Thinking it possible tbat the same gorgeous creations could be resting inside myself. I even went home and rearranged all my furniture hoping somehow that a baby grand piano could fit inside our horribly small living room. I woke up the next day glaring at the newspaper piano imprint on the floor. How could you want this? What does it mean? Am I avoiding something? Am I hoping it will create a beautiful burst of creativity streaming from my fingertips? I so desperatly need to create. I’ve always needed to create. As a child it was building legosor houses with covers. I browse websites for classes on pottery, painting, and music. I’ve attended dance classes and writing workshops. I need an outlet for this desire. Right now I’m posting hoping this will help fill the gaping hole in my head although a baby grand could help too although it would be an extremely tight fit.

You are a lucky soul if you recognize what is in your heart. Even Tyler knows that something special resides inside his heart but he hasn’t seen it yet. I’ve seen inside my heart. A deep dungeon filled with a treasure trove full of gold, pearls and jewels. I’m the only one who can climb down the ladder. I’m the only one who has seen what truly lies beneath it all. A thing that would make me who I should be. Jesus I’m an idiot. Why would someone who knows their heart’s desire not do everything possible to fulfill it?

By some magic, I would float off through the universe in a iridescent bubble with a pinkish tint. Not looking for anything special. Just out for a joyride. Flight would be powered by eating cotton candy. Sugar burns so fast. I’d fly past Halley’s Comet.

In passing, I’d have to say, “You don’t stop by often enough. I never thought I’d see you again.”

The comet would say, “I might breeze by more often if you got my name right.”

“I’m so sorry. You see rock’s don’t talk where I’m from.”

“You don’t listen. Everything has a name. You just don’t listen.”

“Let’s have some fun and take Saturn’s rings. We can hula hoop around the stars.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Sorry, I got lost looking into space. So, what do you think? Let’s hula hoop.”