The first book I ever loved and still hold in a very special place in my heart is the Chronicles of Narnia. I remember reading it and falling in love with the wardrobe which opened itself to a very magical place. If you've seen the movie you know what I mean, but before the movie were the books and only my imagination. I also remember that every closet, closed door, or closed wooden item became to me a chance to get into Narnia. I opened all of them with great excitement and frequently greater disappointment. I'm sad to say, I never got into Narnia through a wardrobe. I did visit there often within the doors of my mind however.
While I can't say for sure, but I think that my Dad introducing me to this masterpiece of writing first beyond any others crafted my love not just of reading, but also of writing. The idea of being able to jump into pools of water in the Wood between Worlds was intoxicating. Though to be honest I didn't remember that aspect of the Chronicles until I was older.
But imagine for a moment what it was like to be a child and being able to open a book, any book, and step into such a magical place where animals talked, wicked witches played havoc and lions brought about life.
I believe that every avid reader has the same sort of memory. We always remember the first book that showed us the magic of our imagination and the richness of worlds beyond our own lives.
I also believe that Narnia was the inspiration for my first hideaway as a child. There was a small empty place underneath the stairs of one of the homes I had lived in on the cusp of being a teenager. I had found it and still, despite several years passing since the first closet I had opened in the hope of finding Narnia, I had opened that small closet door one last time with the same hope. As I said before, I never found it, but instead I made my own Narnia. Except there wasn't talking animals, nor were there wicked witches hoping to dominate the world.
No, in my world there were women who didn't dismiss a child. Women who were strong, powerful, and kind to me. My first hero lived there and for the life of me I can't remember the name I had given her. She was my companion, even when I left my little hole in the wall. She went to school with me, she listened to all my music, heard me talk to my friends. She was there when I did a concert and clapped harder and stronger than anyone in the audience. I confided all my secrets to her and she gave me the strength to grow.
I have since outgrown the childish fantasy of her as my friend. Now, she's my favorite character of all that I have created. I measure all of them to her. She is my muse, my inspiration and at the age of fourteen I finally called her Lady Nyx. A fitting name, a grown up named coming from a mind of (or so I believed at the time) a grown-up mentality. Yet, even now that I'm 30, there is no other name I can give her that would fit quite the same way.
Still, when I think of her, I always remember I found her when I couldn't find my beloved Narnia. I'm much too old to be searching for wardrobes, closet, pictures, or little rings to that could pull me from one world to the next. Instead, I look to the Chronicles themselves, opening the pages and absorbing the words as if it was the first time all over again. I'm that little girl sitting on my Dad's knee listening to him weave the words into a magical world that only I could see.
It's my turn now to take the place of my father as I open the first pages and weave them for my children in the hope of sharing with them the first magical gift I ever received. While I will never tell my children this, I hope one day to find them to be opening every closet, closed door, or closed wooden item in the hopes of finding their version of Narnia. In fact, I hope that all the children of today do the same and never stop believing in magic.
Showing posts with label Real Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Real Life. Show all posts
Tuesday, 31 August 2010
Wednesday, 25 August 2010
I nailed it....I hope
Tonight I think I finally nailed my query letter. I'm actually, gasp, happy with it. I just hope it works out. Now all I need to do is finish editing the fourth draft, cut out close to 25,000 words *sob*, get it proofread then actually send the blasted thing off to get rejected a dozen so times before I can celebrate the victory of an agent which will then lead to the victor of publishing and starting all over again. YAY!
Sweet Mother, it seems like a long, long, long, long road until I get there. Writing. I remember back when I was 14 and I was swept up into the enthusiasm Mrs. Farrell brought about with her encouragement. I was going to be the next Tolkien. I knew I would be. Now look at me, I'm 30 (no sympathy please because I honestly don't mind it at all) and I'm stilling whining about how much further I have to go.
Well, at least I finished the book...mostly. On Fan Story I've been getting good reviews with great pointers and help from the peanut gallery (and I do mean it in the nicest of ways, honest). And these are complete strangers who have no affiliation with me personally other than a love for the written word so that's something. It can't be all bad. And people tell me that they are writing my name down when I give them a brief synopsis of the book so that when it does get published they'll buy it. We'll see how many actually do so when it does happen.
I have decided to start thinking of it as when instead of if. I made that decision because I figured my semi-pessimistic attitude was getting in my way. That conclusion came about from AJJE Games surprisingly enough. How did it happen? Easy. I had to give a speech (actually it was a long post) and in it I talked about a gentleman who taught me that idealism can push projects through. That got me thinking about that particular lesson.
I'm the first to admit, I don't prescribe to idealism. Too many things in my life have shown me that being idealistic just disappoints you. I could give examples, but I'm feeling pretty darn good about my progress that I don't want to go down that avenue. Maybe later..naw, on second thought never mind.
Anyway, as I get older I am coming to the terms to the reality of how I look at life. I'm cynical, but not overly much. I'm not one to trust people either. I actually, to be perfectly honest, I expect people to disappoint me all the time. Why? Because it consistently happens. I've yet to find the exception. If I do I'll probably put it here. But I started thinking that maybe, just maybe, I have to let go of that attitude. Oh, I don't mean actually trusting everyone that I come across. That's too ingrained to just fade away on a gust of wind. No, sadly, I'm stuck in that principle belief pattern. However, I need to give myself and fate a try. I think, just once, I want something to be the ideal instead of the disappointment or reality...which is often both anyway.
So, today...or more aptly, this night, I make a vow. I will think positively. I will shoot not just for the moon but for my favorite planet (okay, they don't call it a planet any more but I'm going to keep doing it because it's special to me personally so pppppbbtttttttttt) Pluto. I want the cosmos and frankly my dear, I don't give a damn about anyone who says that I don't deserve it.
And that is how I nailed it in regard to my letter. I said that to myself and then I just wrote it up. I've been saying it all week with my writing and managed to crank through about 8 chapters so far. Tomorrow I'm aiming for 9. That, incidentally, is the other secret of my success. Every day I have to complete a task. Read over at least 5000 words and do my thing. If I don't get it done in the morning, I work on it through the day. Period, no if, and, or buts.
Sweet Mother, it seems like a long, long, long, long road until I get there. Writing. I remember back when I was 14 and I was swept up into the enthusiasm Mrs. Farrell brought about with her encouragement. I was going to be the next Tolkien. I knew I would be. Now look at me, I'm 30 (no sympathy please because I honestly don't mind it at all) and I'm stilling whining about how much further I have to go.
Well, at least I finished the book...mostly. On Fan Story I've been getting good reviews with great pointers and help from the peanut gallery (and I do mean it in the nicest of ways, honest). And these are complete strangers who have no affiliation with me personally other than a love for the written word so that's something. It can't be all bad. And people tell me that they are writing my name down when I give them a brief synopsis of the book so that when it does get published they'll buy it. We'll see how many actually do so when it does happen.
I have decided to start thinking of it as when instead of if. I made that decision because I figured my semi-pessimistic attitude was getting in my way. That conclusion came about from AJJE Games surprisingly enough. How did it happen? Easy. I had to give a speech (actually it was a long post) and in it I talked about a gentleman who taught me that idealism can push projects through. That got me thinking about that particular lesson.
I'm the first to admit, I don't prescribe to idealism. Too many things in my life have shown me that being idealistic just disappoints you. I could give examples, but I'm feeling pretty darn good about my progress that I don't want to go down that avenue. Maybe later..naw, on second thought never mind.
Anyway, as I get older I am coming to the terms to the reality of how I look at life. I'm cynical, but not overly much. I'm not one to trust people either. I actually, to be perfectly honest, I expect people to disappoint me all the time. Why? Because it consistently happens. I've yet to find the exception. If I do I'll probably put it here. But I started thinking that maybe, just maybe, I have to let go of that attitude. Oh, I don't mean actually trusting everyone that I come across. That's too ingrained to just fade away on a gust of wind. No, sadly, I'm stuck in that principle belief pattern. However, I need to give myself and fate a try. I think, just once, I want something to be the ideal instead of the disappointment or reality...which is often both anyway.
So, today...or more aptly, this night, I make a vow. I will think positively. I will shoot not just for the moon but for my favorite planet (okay, they don't call it a planet any more but I'm going to keep doing it because it's special to me personally so pppppbbtttttttttt) Pluto. I want the cosmos and frankly my dear, I don't give a damn about anyone who says that I don't deserve it.
And that is how I nailed it in regard to my letter. I said that to myself and then I just wrote it up. I've been saying it all week with my writing and managed to crank through about 8 chapters so far. Tomorrow I'm aiming for 9. That, incidentally, is the other secret of my success. Every day I have to complete a task. Read over at least 5000 words and do my thing. If I don't get it done in the morning, I work on it through the day. Period, no if, and, or buts.
Saturday, 21 August 2010
Fear
You know, I'm one of those people who refuses to admit, out loud anyway, an honest fear. I find if I don't say it, I'm not. Like roller coasters for instance. I hate them, but not because I'm afraid of them. I hate them because I'm not in control of them. Does that make me a control freak? Sometimes, yes, I am. I'm a control freak in the car (I hate not driving). I'm a control freak when it comes to projects I'm personally involved in. When I was working, I didn't want to let go of the Hazardous Waste program because it was mine. I built it and I made it work so it was mine.....I could go on but I think you get the point.
So, admitting that I'm afraid of something is huge. Not just huge, but gargantuan. But again, I have found that sometimes true honesty means saying "I'm afraid." So, now, in a blog no one reads, I will say it...I'm afraid.
What do I fear? I'm afraid that the dream that I've aspired for since I was 14 will never come true. I'm terrified that I won't get published, that my writing isn't good enough to be published. That one day I'll have to give it up. It leaves me quaking, this fear. In thinking about it, I realize that my fear is what has caused me not to get off my ass and actually do what has to be done to make it possible. I have to send query letters out, to see if I have any takers. Until I do, I'll never know the answer.
It's hard for me to admit that, to accept this truth about myself. The thing is, I don't know why I can't pull myself out of it. To just grab myself by the nose hairs and get it done. It's not like me to feel this doubt in regard to anything that I've had to use my mind to pursue. I don't want to sound egotistical or anything like that, but truthfully using my mind to accomplish tasks is not that difficult for me.
I breeze through school with little to no effort (which is funny because I didn't do that well in High School). Mastering art and design has been simple, teaching myself to code equally so. What I succeed at mentally is directly countered in what I fail at in the physical department. Exercise and sports are really not my forte. Proof of this comes from how many injuries I've sustained over the years of attempting it when I was a kid. So in that I am balanced. I have also accepted that when I make up my mind to accomplish something, it's not that difficult either. A great example is to stop drinking sodas. I decided to stop and did it. Except for the first day, I don't have any cravings for it so that is good.
Yet, despite that, I'm afraid of putting myself out there. A part of me knows the reason, it's because I don't want to be rejected. That is probably the biggest struggle I've had all my life. The idea of it makes me nauseous, which is probably the source of this fear.
The question is, how do I push past it? If I ever figure it out, I'll write it here....
So, admitting that I'm afraid of something is huge. Not just huge, but gargantuan. But again, I have found that sometimes true honesty means saying "I'm afraid." So, now, in a blog no one reads, I will say it...I'm afraid.
What do I fear? I'm afraid that the dream that I've aspired for since I was 14 will never come true. I'm terrified that I won't get published, that my writing isn't good enough to be published. That one day I'll have to give it up. It leaves me quaking, this fear. In thinking about it, I realize that my fear is what has caused me not to get off my ass and actually do what has to be done to make it possible. I have to send query letters out, to see if I have any takers. Until I do, I'll never know the answer.
It's hard for me to admit that, to accept this truth about myself. The thing is, I don't know why I can't pull myself out of it. To just grab myself by the nose hairs and get it done. It's not like me to feel this doubt in regard to anything that I've had to use my mind to pursue. I don't want to sound egotistical or anything like that, but truthfully using my mind to accomplish tasks is not that difficult for me.
I breeze through school with little to no effort (which is funny because I didn't do that well in High School). Mastering art and design has been simple, teaching myself to code equally so. What I succeed at mentally is directly countered in what I fail at in the physical department. Exercise and sports are really not my forte. Proof of this comes from how many injuries I've sustained over the years of attempting it when I was a kid. So in that I am balanced. I have also accepted that when I make up my mind to accomplish something, it's not that difficult either. A great example is to stop drinking sodas. I decided to stop and did it. Except for the first day, I don't have any cravings for it so that is good.
Yet, despite that, I'm afraid of putting myself out there. A part of me knows the reason, it's because I don't want to be rejected. That is probably the biggest struggle I've had all my life. The idea of it makes me nauseous, which is probably the source of this fear.
The question is, how do I push past it? If I ever figure it out, I'll write it here....
Wednesday, 18 August 2010
What inspires
When I was a kid, one of the first cartoons I adored was not Strawberry Shortcake or the Care Bears. Nor was I influenced by Tom and Jerry, Bugs Bunny or Daffy Duck. No, my favorite of all favorite movies was The Last Unicorn. I don't remember being fascinated with Unicorns at the time. I also don't remember when I first saw it. But I do remember how much I loved it and when I saw it out on DVD for my kids a few years ago I picked it up without hesitation. I knew that I had to share it with them. Yet, despite the years and the amount of times I have watched this beloved classic of mine, not once did I fully comprehend how much I was inspired and influenced by it.
Until tonight.
As a treat, I told the kids that I would watch one of their movies with them. I do this frequently when I've finished all my work and they've behaved for the day. Today they went beyond good behavior because when I sat down to do some writing, they didn't stay downstairs and disturb me with their play or with their questions. Instead, without any prompting for me, decided to play upstairs. I was so proud and thankful for their thoughtfulness, I decided to watch a movie with them. My daughter chose The Last Unicorn as she is at the age of adoring those wonderful and magical animals.
And I watched every second, mesmerized by the beauty of it and the story, the magic that shows us not only that we can fight against what frightens us, but that change proves to help us. Still, I didn't fully clue in on the impact that this story had on me until it came to the scene where the Wizard Schmendrick changed the Unicorn into a human woman. There she stood, pale as snow, with hair as white as the clouds looking frail, beautiful, and lost. It wasn't this that had transfixed me. No, what had was the pink star on her forehead that symbolized the place where her horn once stood. In that second, when she lifted her bangs to show that star, I realized how much of an impact this movie had on me.
What do I mean? My masterpiece, the Golden Crown, has in it a race of women who are strong, magical, and beautiful. They are powerful and important to the world I created. How can you tell when a woman is a Dancer? By the star on their forehead that looks (in my minds eye) much like the Lady Amalthea's star did on hers. I saw in that moment tonight not the Lady Amalthea, but instead the youngest Dancer in the frailty and the other two Dancers in appearance. A mix of my magical race who came to be to help save the world though they do not realize it.
When I saw that I was shell shocked. I never once thought that The Last Unicorn had made such an impact or had inspired one of the most beloved characters I have ever created. This shows me that all that I hear, see, think and experience eventually comes out in my writing. The world, in all its glory and divinity, is my muse and I hope I never, ever lose that. I hope that it will continue to inspire me as The Last Unicorn has for the rest of my life. I was so moved that I had to share it.
Until tonight.
As a treat, I told the kids that I would watch one of their movies with them. I do this frequently when I've finished all my work and they've behaved for the day. Today they went beyond good behavior because when I sat down to do some writing, they didn't stay downstairs and disturb me with their play or with their questions. Instead, without any prompting for me, decided to play upstairs. I was so proud and thankful for their thoughtfulness, I decided to watch a movie with them. My daughter chose The Last Unicorn as she is at the age of adoring those wonderful and magical animals.
And I watched every second, mesmerized by the beauty of it and the story, the magic that shows us not only that we can fight against what frightens us, but that change proves to help us. Still, I didn't fully clue in on the impact that this story had on me until it came to the scene where the Wizard Schmendrick changed the Unicorn into a human woman. There she stood, pale as snow, with hair as white as the clouds looking frail, beautiful, and lost. It wasn't this that had transfixed me. No, what had was the pink star on her forehead that symbolized the place where her horn once stood. In that second, when she lifted her bangs to show that star, I realized how much of an impact this movie had on me.
What do I mean? My masterpiece, the Golden Crown, has in it a race of women who are strong, magical, and beautiful. They are powerful and important to the world I created. How can you tell when a woman is a Dancer? By the star on their forehead that looks (in my minds eye) much like the Lady Amalthea's star did on hers. I saw in that moment tonight not the Lady Amalthea, but instead the youngest Dancer in the frailty and the other two Dancers in appearance. A mix of my magical race who came to be to help save the world though they do not realize it.
When I saw that I was shell shocked. I never once thought that The Last Unicorn had made such an impact or had inspired one of the most beloved characters I have ever created. This shows me that all that I hear, see, think and experience eventually comes out in my writing. The world, in all its glory and divinity, is my muse and I hope I never, ever lose that. I hope that it will continue to inspire me as The Last Unicorn has for the rest of my life. I was so moved that I had to share it.
Monday, 10 May 2010
Yay Britain!
In light of my recent move into a more spiritual life I have endeavored to expand myself into reading news about Pagans in general. Now some of the stuff I've read is what I call, well, bigotry for the most part. XYZ group doesn't want a Pagan festival in their town or see, Wiccan's kill people too and they are worse because they are Wiccan. Or, a personal favorite, because the Nazis might have been (this is a constant discussion apparently about whether or not the Nazis party was Pagan or Christian. It's a discussion I, myself, have been in as well. The point of fact is that some may have been Pagan while others were Christian. Unless you can time travel and ask, we may never know for certain) then obviously being Pagan is wrong because it inspires horrible acts against humanity like the holocaust.
Another favorite was the whole high school up in arms because a boy wanted to build an altar in shop class and apparently now other kids are afraid to go to school for it. My reaction to these are always, "Grow up" or some variation of it.
Yet, despite all the crap, I do read some good stories and today I read two. These two, unfortunately or fortunately depending on your point of view, come from good ole Britannia. All hail the Queen!
The first story I read was about how Pagan's are starting to come to the forefront. Now, don't mistake me, I wish no ill will on the Christian community of the world. Honest I don't as some of my best friends and even my husband is in fact Christian. However, what I think is good about this particular article that I read is that it's showing that Pagans in general, and perhaps even Wiccans specifically, are starting to be recognized as more than just a fad. Here is the article for anyone interested in reading it: Here
That's the fortunate part from my point of view. The unfortunate, again in my point of view, is that it's not also happening in the US. Yes, in fact currently there is a big hoopla about Wiccan's celebrating in a particular area. All sorts of things are being mentioned and it's, well, a hoopla. I'd call them all hooligans, but that doesn't quite sum it up. It's unfortunate that it still happens, but the realist in me realizes that you just can't escape attitudes like that.
Even 50 years from now when religious tolerance is more than something we talk about to actual fact for over 80% of population, there will still be the 20% who deliberately cut off contact with someone of an opposite religion simply because they can't be bothered to accept that not everyone will believe what they believe.
This leads me to the second article which is what ultimately spurred forth this particular post. Again, here comes Britain with a fantastic example for the world. The police have given weight to the Pagan Police Association. Whoo hoo! Go Britain!
If you're interested in the story you can find it here: Here
Okay, so it's not all peaches and cream and I'm sure there are issues involved that I am just not privy to. Especially considering that I'm not British and I lack that really sexy accent they have (no offense but I'm more moved by the guys accent than the girls. Just who I am, I'm sure you ladies have sexy accents too). But let's really think about this whole 'Britain sets example' idea shall we? Despite what others may feel, think or believe, Britain has been one of the more influential countries in the world, especially in regards to the past. While not all the current countries of today were seeded by the British, a fair amount were. Don't believe me? I give you the two most obvious countries. Australia (with their even sexier accent that sounds similar but not quite the same as the British accent) and America.
Even today they are considered a super power and will probably remain so for a very long time. So it is understandable and completely reasonable to think that if they are showing their support for us Pagans that sooner rather than later, the rest of the world will too. Which will be fantastic because then, perhaps soon, the percentage of the Earth's population who pay homage to more than a single God/dess will be able to answer the question of 'what do you believe' with much more than the answer 'alternative' and instead say "I'm a Wiccan." or "I'm a Druid" without the blank stares.
......or at least one can hope right?
Another favorite was the whole high school up in arms because a boy wanted to build an altar in shop class and apparently now other kids are afraid to go to school for it. My reaction to these are always, "Grow up" or some variation of it.
Yet, despite all the crap, I do read some good stories and today I read two. These two, unfortunately or fortunately depending on your point of view, come from good ole Britannia. All hail the Queen!
The first story I read was about how Pagan's are starting to come to the forefront. Now, don't mistake me, I wish no ill will on the Christian community of the world. Honest I don't as some of my best friends and even my husband is in fact Christian. However, what I think is good about this particular article that I read is that it's showing that Pagans in general, and perhaps even Wiccans specifically, are starting to be recognized as more than just a fad. Here is the article for anyone interested in reading it: Here
That's the fortunate part from my point of view. The unfortunate, again in my point of view, is that it's not also happening in the US. Yes, in fact currently there is a big hoopla about Wiccan's celebrating in a particular area. All sorts of things are being mentioned and it's, well, a hoopla. I'd call them all hooligans, but that doesn't quite sum it up. It's unfortunate that it still happens, but the realist in me realizes that you just can't escape attitudes like that.
Even 50 years from now when religious tolerance is more than something we talk about to actual fact for over 80% of population, there will still be the 20% who deliberately cut off contact with someone of an opposite religion simply because they can't be bothered to accept that not everyone will believe what they believe.
This leads me to the second article which is what ultimately spurred forth this particular post. Again, here comes Britain with a fantastic example for the world. The police have given weight to the Pagan Police Association. Whoo hoo! Go Britain!
If you're interested in the story you can find it here: Here
Okay, so it's not all peaches and cream and I'm sure there are issues involved that I am just not privy to. Especially considering that I'm not British and I lack that really sexy accent they have (no offense but I'm more moved by the guys accent than the girls. Just who I am, I'm sure you ladies have sexy accents too). But let's really think about this whole 'Britain sets example' idea shall we? Despite what others may feel, think or believe, Britain has been one of the more influential countries in the world, especially in regards to the past. While not all the current countries of today were seeded by the British, a fair amount were. Don't believe me? I give you the two most obvious countries. Australia (with their even sexier accent that sounds similar but not quite the same as the British accent) and America.
Even today they are considered a super power and will probably remain so for a very long time. So it is understandable and completely reasonable to think that if they are showing their support for us Pagans that sooner rather than later, the rest of the world will too. Which will be fantastic because then, perhaps soon, the percentage of the Earth's population who pay homage to more than a single God/dess will be able to answer the question of 'what do you believe' with much more than the answer 'alternative' and instead say "I'm a Wiccan." or "I'm a Druid" without the blank stares.
......or at least one can hope right?
Monday, 3 May 2010
Flirtting with violence
So I think it was last week when Laurell Hamilton's newest book in the Anita Blake series came out. I was good, I only waited a week before I ran to the book store to snatch it up without so much of a bat of my eye. I was even better in the fact that I didn't race home immediately to read it because I had other things that needed to be taken care of. I was bad though that while me and the kids were eating lunch I caved and read the first five pages instead of talking with the kids. They forgave me though because it's like the family knows and understands. Mommy gets a new book and she must devour. All I can say about Flirt is YUM.
I've talked to few others that share my adoration for the Anita Blake series and say that it's gotten to be too much about violence and sex. I can sympathize with them on this. There is a point when there is too much of both......I think. I haven't met my quota yet, but I'm sure I have a line that shouldn't be crossed. When or if I ever find it I'll probably talk about it. Frankly though there is this well spring of violence that lives within all of us I think that needs or should be tapped. I know a few people that seem to lack either and I marvel at that. I also don't understand it. In some ways I'm sorry for them, but they are happy and it works for me.
Anyway, back to the book.
At the end of the book Laurell Hamilton gave a bit of an explanation of where her ideas come from and how they go from an idea to an actual book. As I read through it I realized that I have much more in common with her than I had initially believed. I mean I don't write stories like she does that has monsters and sex and .... no, wait, I do have the violence. But in regards to our approach to writing, judging from this little bit that I read we have similarities. We both start with a scene then it just sits, grows until it demands attention. She and I both tap into this world that we live in that has pictures of what would happen if the situation went bad. Violence is just a natural part of who we are apparently.
Now, most people who know me would be shocked or surprised at that statement. I've been told for years that I'm sweet, kind and gentle. I wouldn't hurt a fly. It's true, I respect nature and life too much to actually do it. That's why my characters do it for me. I see it clearly, visualize it and let it fester until it's time to put it down on paper. I take it all out there, letting that well of anger and violence flow into the words until there is a character and a situation that sums up the fullness of those desires and impulses. It's comforting, it's fun and it's beautiful. It's me.
So while I flirt with violence, I find that it's a healthy expression. Much better than actually doing it. Curiosity allows me to explore the actions with words instead of an actual activity. Good for the human race, better for my soul and fantastic for my children. It is also partly one of the primary reasons that I have recently started down a more spiritual path because I know that I have to both accept and draw out the impulses that lie beneath the surface into something healthy and worthwhile.
I also know I won't be letting my children read my stories until they are probably 18 or older if I can help it.
I've talked to few others that share my adoration for the Anita Blake series and say that it's gotten to be too much about violence and sex. I can sympathize with them on this. There is a point when there is too much of both......I think. I haven't met my quota yet, but I'm sure I have a line that shouldn't be crossed. When or if I ever find it I'll probably talk about it. Frankly though there is this well spring of violence that lives within all of us I think that needs or should be tapped. I know a few people that seem to lack either and I marvel at that. I also don't understand it. In some ways I'm sorry for them, but they are happy and it works for me.
Anyway, back to the book.
At the end of the book Laurell Hamilton gave a bit of an explanation of where her ideas come from and how they go from an idea to an actual book. As I read through it I realized that I have much more in common with her than I had initially believed. I mean I don't write stories like she does that has monsters and sex and .... no, wait, I do have the violence. But in regards to our approach to writing, judging from this little bit that I read we have similarities. We both start with a scene then it just sits, grows until it demands attention. She and I both tap into this world that we live in that has pictures of what would happen if the situation went bad. Violence is just a natural part of who we are apparently.
Now, most people who know me would be shocked or surprised at that statement. I've been told for years that I'm sweet, kind and gentle. I wouldn't hurt a fly. It's true, I respect nature and life too much to actually do it. That's why my characters do it for me. I see it clearly, visualize it and let it fester until it's time to put it down on paper. I take it all out there, letting that well of anger and violence flow into the words until there is a character and a situation that sums up the fullness of those desires and impulses. It's comforting, it's fun and it's beautiful. It's me.
So while I flirt with violence, I find that it's a healthy expression. Much better than actually doing it. Curiosity allows me to explore the actions with words instead of an actual activity. Good for the human race, better for my soul and fantastic for my children. It is also partly one of the primary reasons that I have recently started down a more spiritual path because I know that I have to both accept and draw out the impulses that lie beneath the surface into something healthy and worthwhile.
I also know I won't be letting my children read my stories until they are probably 18 or older if I can help it.
Saturday, 1 May 2010
Merry Beltane
It's coming to the end of May 1st, also known as May Day to others, but Beltane to me. Sadly I wasn't exactly able to do the ceremony like I wanted to due to it just being me and the kids. But I honored Beltane through decorations and some meditation. Plus the last couple nights I've had inspirations left in a nifty notebook by my bed.
With the coming of Summer, the passing of Spring, it is time to look at new ideas, new concepts. For me that means a full on workout system that should start showing results in a month, plus a new brand of spring cleaning. *Gasp* I'm attempting to be rid of clutter. My mother would faint since I'm one of those kids that was always told "Clean up this mess!" Why the change, because in the drive to be one with the Divine I've looked at my life and realized YIKES, I'm great at the study, but application through my own life. You know, walking the walk and talking the talk. I got the talk, don't have the walk. Walk into my house and you'll see proof.
So I'm putting the books to the side....sort of to the side. I Can't seem to avoid looking and reading snippets, taking notes and thinking (I never stop thinking by the way). But I'm going to try and change how I go about living before I expand the mind at a faster pace. For once I'm working on the physical first and the mind second. To do this my lovely husband said Yes, buy a treadmill. I found a cheap one the only problem is that the belt is moving to the left and won't let me fix it...yet.
Sigh, I hate it when things don't work out exactly as I want it when I want it.
One other note, my darling Raven is always encouraging. She came running up to me and said, "Mom, will you get on the treadmill to loose weight right now?" Little darling that she is. How can I fail with my kids looking at me with those brown eyes of their father that say "You can do anything Mom. Even lift the world."? I can't and I thank the Lord and Lady for giving them to me. Oh and I thank Ike too btw :)
With the coming of Summer, the passing of Spring, it is time to look at new ideas, new concepts. For me that means a full on workout system that should start showing results in a month, plus a new brand of spring cleaning. *Gasp* I'm attempting to be rid of clutter. My mother would faint since I'm one of those kids that was always told "Clean up this mess!" Why the change, because in the drive to be one with the Divine I've looked at my life and realized YIKES, I'm great at the study, but application through my own life. You know, walking the walk and talking the talk. I got the talk, don't have the walk. Walk into my house and you'll see proof.
So I'm putting the books to the side....sort of to the side. I Can't seem to avoid looking and reading snippets, taking notes and thinking (I never stop thinking by the way). But I'm going to try and change how I go about living before I expand the mind at a faster pace. For once I'm working on the physical first and the mind second. To do this my lovely husband said Yes, buy a treadmill. I found a cheap one the only problem is that the belt is moving to the left and won't let me fix it...yet.
Sigh, I hate it when things don't work out exactly as I want it when I want it.
One other note, my darling Raven is always encouraging. She came running up to me and said, "Mom, will you get on the treadmill to loose weight right now?" Little darling that she is. How can I fail with my kids looking at me with those brown eyes of their father that say "You can do anything Mom. Even lift the world."? I can't and I thank the Lord and Lady for giving them to me. Oh and I thank Ike too btw :)
Wednesday, 10 March 2010
Busy, Busy, Busy
Sigh.......
You know what happens when you decide to make a change for the purposes of spirituality? You find yourself chucked into the deep end of busy. I kid you not, it's like this magnetic attraction for me. I go from opening up anywhere from 5 to 20 minutes a day for the purposes of spiritual growth only to have something come and eat up those precious minutes.
First it starts with the wonderful family vacation. A necessity as it helps us develop stronger bonds as a family, plus it's fun. We had a blast at Disney World so that was worth it. Then it gets chewed up by housework and getting back into the whole being at home thing. Then you get hired so to speak to do a web site, which is good but doing the layout sketches tends to zap all thought processes out the window because you want to do something that's different, that will help set this site out from all the rest.
Of course, it doesn't stop there. Suddenly, since you have this time and you need to garner experience you volunteer for a magazine. Which is fine because theoretically all you have to do is manage a few people...easy right?
Wrong.
One person can't do their spread, then another, then the publisher needs help and because I seem to be physically incapable of saying the word..you know, no...I get wrapped up into helping with a second magazine to do three spreads there. YAY, experience!
But of course it doesn't stop there, I get asked to help with doing web portfolios. A simple activity really, only five pages with a site builder (which SUCKS for HTML/CSS addicts like myself). Three websites where I do all the work plus one which is a basic plug and play idea and the fifth being a simple "Well if you did this." Yay, great experience. All I learned was that some people are jerks, others just don't care and more are just meddlers. Oh and site builders suck!
Then, just to put icing on the cake, no writing either!
Now, I like being highly creative. Honestly I do. It's fun, interesting and challenging...sometimes. But hell, you can't have everything can you?
So for the last month and a half I've had my head stuck in either InDesign (which I can't stand for longer than a few hours) and a stupid freaking site builder! Which royally sucked because not only was I busy in those programs, but several things got shoved to the wayside.
Probably the worst and the one that causes the most guilt was that I was unable to spend as much time with my son as I like to do. For his part he was a trooper. He played by himself, bothered me rarely and only for the necessary problems like food, drink, diaper, potty training...you get the idea. My daughter was less understanding sometimes and other times more so. It was a fluctuating pattern. Out of the whole family I think the ones that were the most understanding was my husband, our dog and our cat who fortunately didn't try to walk across my computer screen (bloody cats think they own everything).
The other horrible thing was that my bloody shoulder decided to be a literal pain. The biggest problem is that this time I could avoid the offending computer for three days straight. I had a deadline after all. So the advice I got instead....reorganize your desk! Yeah right.
But my husband, being who he is, insisted that it would be for the best and to be honest I had been thinking about doing so even before the shoulder pain that registers a 9.7 on the pain scale (I'm not kidding. When it flares up I'm almost completely incapacitated which makes doing any of the above IMPOSSIBLE...actually it makes doing anything impossible. Sad day when you can't even pick up your kids).
The other side effects? Well cleaning, I didn't do it. So my house is this clutter pile of things I won't get into. I look at it, I feel guilty but back to work I went because it HAD to be done. Then, just to put some icing on the cake, my shoulder pain makes it hard to do any cleaning. Picture this: Loading the damn dishwasher. A simple operation. Scrape off dishes, put them in the dishwasher, turn it on, go do something else. You wouldn't think it would stress out muscles, but guess what! It DOES. I swear, there are times when I think I hear someone snickering at me when all this pops up.
It's over now though...the magazines and workshop that is. So I had this big huge plan of what I was going to do. I was going to rest, write, work on that web site that I had been asked for prior to the magazine fiasco. It ended last week and due to my shoulder, cleaning has been all catch up in short bursts, writing has happened once. I think I skimmed one spiritual book, I'm trying to read one book about marketing myself as a Web Designer...which is a different story...a few magazines to keep me up to date on tricks, tips and new stuff for the CS5 version of the programs. The only real thing I've been able to do is catch up on my time with the kids. Which is good, don't get me wrong. But there is only so much you can do when you're asked to lay on the floor just so you can watch your son play with his cars (because he won't let you play with them, that's just wrong for some reason).
So needless to say, I've been really busy and it's sucked, but was also fun. This of course tells me many things about myself.
1. I'm a workaholic
2. Multi-tasking is great but not at the expense of the other important things
3. I'm incapable of stopping myself
4. I'm a workaholic
That's pretty much it.
You know what happens when you decide to make a change for the purposes of spirituality? You find yourself chucked into the deep end of busy. I kid you not, it's like this magnetic attraction for me. I go from opening up anywhere from 5 to 20 minutes a day for the purposes of spiritual growth only to have something come and eat up those precious minutes.
First it starts with the wonderful family vacation. A necessity as it helps us develop stronger bonds as a family, plus it's fun. We had a blast at Disney World so that was worth it. Then it gets chewed up by housework and getting back into the whole being at home thing. Then you get hired so to speak to do a web site, which is good but doing the layout sketches tends to zap all thought processes out the window because you want to do something that's different, that will help set this site out from all the rest.
Of course, it doesn't stop there. Suddenly, since you have this time and you need to garner experience you volunteer for a magazine. Which is fine because theoretically all you have to do is manage a few people...easy right?
Wrong.
One person can't do their spread, then another, then the publisher needs help and because I seem to be physically incapable of saying the word..you know, no...I get wrapped up into helping with a second magazine to do three spreads there. YAY, experience!
But of course it doesn't stop there, I get asked to help with doing web portfolios. A simple activity really, only five pages with a site builder (which SUCKS for HTML/CSS addicts like myself). Three websites where I do all the work plus one which is a basic plug and play idea and the fifth being a simple "Well if you did this." Yay, great experience. All I learned was that some people are jerks, others just don't care and more are just meddlers. Oh and site builders suck!
Then, just to put icing on the cake, no writing either!
Now, I like being highly creative. Honestly I do. It's fun, interesting and challenging...sometimes. But hell, you can't have everything can you?
So for the last month and a half I've had my head stuck in either InDesign (which I can't stand for longer than a few hours) and a stupid freaking site builder! Which royally sucked because not only was I busy in those programs, but several things got shoved to the wayside.
Probably the worst and the one that causes the most guilt was that I was unable to spend as much time with my son as I like to do. For his part he was a trooper. He played by himself, bothered me rarely and only for the necessary problems like food, drink, diaper, potty training...you get the idea. My daughter was less understanding sometimes and other times more so. It was a fluctuating pattern. Out of the whole family I think the ones that were the most understanding was my husband, our dog and our cat who fortunately didn't try to walk across my computer screen (bloody cats think they own everything).
The other horrible thing was that my bloody shoulder decided to be a literal pain. The biggest problem is that this time I could avoid the offending computer for three days straight. I had a deadline after all. So the advice I got instead....reorganize your desk! Yeah right.
But my husband, being who he is, insisted that it would be for the best and to be honest I had been thinking about doing so even before the shoulder pain that registers a 9.7 on the pain scale (I'm not kidding. When it flares up I'm almost completely incapacitated which makes doing any of the above IMPOSSIBLE...actually it makes doing anything impossible. Sad day when you can't even pick up your kids).
The other side effects? Well cleaning, I didn't do it. So my house is this clutter pile of things I won't get into. I look at it, I feel guilty but back to work I went because it HAD to be done. Then, just to put some icing on the cake, my shoulder pain makes it hard to do any cleaning. Picture this: Loading the damn dishwasher. A simple operation. Scrape off dishes, put them in the dishwasher, turn it on, go do something else. You wouldn't think it would stress out muscles, but guess what! It DOES. I swear, there are times when I think I hear someone snickering at me when all this pops up.
It's over now though...the magazines and workshop that is. So I had this big huge plan of what I was going to do. I was going to rest, write, work on that web site that I had been asked for prior to the magazine fiasco. It ended last week and due to my shoulder, cleaning has been all catch up in short bursts, writing has happened once. I think I skimmed one spiritual book, I'm trying to read one book about marketing myself as a Web Designer...which is a different story...a few magazines to keep me up to date on tricks, tips and new stuff for the CS5 version of the programs. The only real thing I've been able to do is catch up on my time with the kids. Which is good, don't get me wrong. But there is only so much you can do when you're asked to lay on the floor just so you can watch your son play with his cars (because he won't let you play with them, that's just wrong for some reason).
So needless to say, I've been really busy and it's sucked, but was also fun. This of course tells me many things about myself.
1. I'm a workaholic
2. Multi-tasking is great but not at the expense of the other important things
3. I'm incapable of stopping myself
4. I'm a workaholic
That's pretty much it.
Saturday, 2 May 2009
Story meets life
I believe I had mentioned a few months ago a story that I was trying to create for a writing contest. Well, since then I have finished it and managed to do it in 3,962 words. Since the max limit had been 4,000 I'm quite proud of myself. It's called an Immortal Life.
The main character is Sela and she's, you got it, an Immortal. Currently we're looking in on her during a week that she takes for herself every year to take a trip down memory lane. She does it for sanity purposes. Overall I think the story is good, I need to spruce it up a bit of course, but on the whole, it's a good story. I do have one complaint and that's only because I couldn't do what I really wanted to do which was go from Sela's trip down memory lane then on to the drama of dealing with another Immortal that she hates because he's in jail for murder. His sentence is life, which as I'm sure you can imagine, would be a problem.
I had this whole time line planned out, meet Sela during her birth week (thanks to a friend of mine I found out that during the time period I had chosen for Sela, the idea of a date to celebrate ones birth hadn't taken hold at the time. Because of this fact Sela choose a date that is close to when she thinks she was born, the first few hundred years is a little hazy for her though so she doesn't know for sure, you understand.) Then go on to the prison to talk to the guy she hates, the only guy she hates. Lots of snippy comments back and forth, a little flash black and tiny breakout attempt (or was it an attempt?) then the story is over.
The problem is that putting that much detail into 4,000 words is impossible. I know, I tried it. Sigh, so maybe someday I'll be able to flesh out the rest. Hell, maybe I'll do it just for the hell of it. If I don't win the contest perhaps I can do that for another contest that allows more than 4,000 words. 25,000 is a good number, I'll look for that instead then I'll be in business.
Anyway, that's not the point I actually wanted to talk about. The point I do want to discuss is how cool, if not a bit ironic, a particular part happens to directly relate to a personal epiphany that I had. Here, I'll quote from the story then go on to explain how I mean.
It was during this time that Sela could feel a role reversal with them. These mortals would take this time to throw off their cares and worries, experience the moment for what it was. To live in just this space without having their problems drag them down. For this one week Sela relied on that fact, needing it like a drug addict needed their fix. It kept her from going down a path of insensibility, kept her sane as she allowed memories of events, friends and families long past to rise up for their say.
That kind of sums up the theme of the story in regards to Immortals, at least in my opinion. I've asked a slew of people whether they would want to be immortal and everyone said yes as long as their was a provision allowing their loved ones (spouse, children, maybe parents) could be immortal together. This says something to me as a whole, that we all wish we could stop worrying about the future (think about it, the phrase I'll get to it eventually takes on a whole new meaning when you can live forever) and that they value the people around them in such a way that they think they can stand being around them for all eternity.
This, however, is not my epiphany though I can't exactly call it an epiphany. Usually those are almost instantaneous, kind of a big huge wham, bam, oh my if I had only figured that out ten years ago! So technically it's just a revelation that I believe started with Sela. My realization is that it's okay to surrender to the pull of life around me.
All right, I can imagine some of you saying "Well duh, we all know that." But do we really? How many of us really put that thought into this moment? I mean, right now I am sitting in front of a computer, trying to focus with contacts that I'm about ready to take out just so I can read this easier, but does it mean anything? Usually I'm wondering, during the pauses of my thought process that is, what do I have to do next. What is on my agenda, what is on my plan for the day. I have since realized however that doing that kind of worrying is extremely stressful. We can all make lists until our hands are crippled in a serious cramp, but what does that get us?
That's an answer for each individual to give, but for myself the answer is nothing. I always felt that I had to be doing something that pushes me forward. That propels me to the next step whether it's cooking dinner or taking the kids out somewhere. Until recently I felt I was nailed down into so many different roles and realities that I felt as if I was being pulled apart by the strain.
While writing Sela's thoughts about living in the moment, it didn't occur to me that I was about to start a very short road from a pressure filled world to a decrease of stress by at least 35% (I'd say more, but that's today, we'll see how it goes tomorrow). In other words folks, I don't feel as tired as I usually do despite having trouble sleeping (really weird and freaky dreams, I'll tell you all about it later once I figure out what flying in lingerie is trying to tell me...p.s. if you know, feel free to tell me).
Okay, give me a sec, I have to take out these contacts, blurred vision is so not fun.....
Ahhh, now I can read the screen....so where was I? Ah yes my revelation.
The first step of this revelation came from Sela I think, a subconscious light flickering on. It just took me about a month and a half for it to go from the subconscious to the conscious forefront. The second came from Ike, my hubby. We were talking about school and the problem I was having about being a writer while going for my web design degree. Basically I felt I was betraying a part of myself due to the school aspect. He said, in a way, that I sometimes just have to surrender to the direction I'm going. While he didn't say that message exactly I think he was trying to, or at least that's what I heard from him.
He was right though, but I didn't realize the truth of his message until later. I want to talk about it though before I explain how it finally sank in. Too many times have I found myself doing something other than writing full time (which, by the way, is my dream reality. To do nothing but write.) To do this though it means I'd have to give up a few things. Like my art, web pages, the various Internet activities that I do. Maybe even more than that. It's a fine ambition, but hardly practical considering the age of my kids. If I keep trying to fight the reality of my life, the various roles that I'm playing as Mother, Wife, Woman, Writer, Artist, Web Designer, etc then all I'm going to do is tear myself up.
Let me tell you, it's not fun doing that. I kept trying to find balance, but it wasn't coming to me. Something always felt like it was more important and that I had to handle that now instead of later.
Then, about three weeks ago I received a Divine Intervention. Close to midnight I was hit with an urge to gather some supplies. It was the type of urge that ignoring it hurts and ultimately I had no choice in the matter. In a short space of time I did an impromptu Ritual that even now I can't remember all that I said or did. There is only one part that is still clear as a bell in my mind even three weeks later.
Now, before this I was starting to get irritated at how some Christian believers can be so pushy about their faith. It's like the idea of believing something else is an affront to a few people and they just keep going on and on without listening or even trying to understand an alternate point of view. There are Christians that are the exact opposite (one is a very good friend of mine and we are involved in a very long conversation about our extremely opposite views and I love it so don't think I'm knocking the religion, just those that are unwilling to be open minded okay) which is fantastic, I wish the whole host of believers were the same way and perhaps one day they will be. My irritation were with the handful that aren't however and it seemed that I was finding them everywhere. Go to my church, this faith is the absolute truth no matter what, etc.
For them, sure, not for me though. Anyway, my irritation was starting to be expressed by severe sarcasm and when I get severe it's so sharp you could cut yourself with it (the gift of being a writer I think). In addition my feelings were starting to ripple toward individuals who aren't like that, but that I know are Christian. This, by the way, is not a very Wiccan way to live, but I couldn't stop myself. It just kept slipping out of me and I was having a serious control issue.
Well, that night I received a very important message from the God and Goddess. They told me very firmly "Don't scorn the Christian heart." In that instant I felt all my irritation and negativity just float away. I literally got the sense knocked back into my skull. What I didn't realize was that they left a parting gift. I have found in my experience that each time I'm in communion with the God and Goddess I often learn more than just the primary message that I get from Them. I've talked to others who have had similar experiences, even with the Christian God as well I might as well add, who find the same circumstances.
Well, the gift they gave me was a deeper understanding of myself. The release of all that aggravation also freed me from this road block I had in regards to my life. Without even realizing it, the moment I closed the circle I actually stopped fighting my life. I was finding my balance. Decisions on going out and doing something for myself were suddenly much easier for me.
The next day I did a major house cleaning, got rid of a lot of old stuff that had to just go. I hung up some pictures (finally) in my downstairs area then lost my dog. LOL. I laugh now, I wasn't laughing then.
What is interesting though is that I think Chelsey escaping from the fence then go missing for two days straight was a test to see if I had really absorbed the message. Despite not being able to sleep or study for my midterms or do my major research paper and even trying to keep the kids from being too upset (btw, if you have young children and your pet goes missing, tell them the pet in question is on an adventure and will be back soon. It worked amazingly well for Raven) I didn't feel like the world was crashing around me. That even though I was really upset I just knew it was going to be okay, that I would find her.
We did find her and I was deliriously happy because my husband came home from his trip two hours later, at which point I then collapsed in bed and slept off the exhaustion I was feeling. And the next day I didn't feel drained like I usually do after a serious situation like that. I wasn't completely rejuvenated, but I also wasn't wondering what else would go wrong.
That was completely uplifting...once I realized it that is (remember, revelations take time to articulate even in our own heads).
There are two more incidents that really pushed the whole concept into my consciousness. The first one that happened did so last week on Thursday. I was talking with my personal trainer when I noticed that despite being only 24, he looked more stressed and tired that I was. I mean, heck he's 24, unmarried (with a steady girlfriend) and a great job. I thought he should be living life for all it was worth, but he wasn't. He was in the process of telling me that he still needed to do my diet and the diet for 30 other people when I got up and closed the door to his office. I told him quite frankly and upfront that he had to start taking care of himself. Take time for himself and I told him everything I've been trying to tell myself, that Ike has been telling me...hell, that everyone I knew was telling me. Take time for yourself, be true to your own needs because if you can't do that then you can't take care of other people.
After I left the gym though I got to thinking about what I told him, what message I was trying to convey to him and realized that I don't do that myself. How could I, a person that was having trouble merging my own life give someone advice on how to do it. That was when I realized that I have to stop making excuses to not do it. That I just had to get up, shake myself and, well, do it.
So I did. The whole next week, since I knew Ike was going to be leaving for another trip, I went out and did something for just me. I bought a new dress (yes, I finally am trying to buy dresses which is something I haven't done since I was 18 I think...I'm not a dress person), I bought a few other pieces for my wardrobe. I also got myself a haircut that I've been meaning to get done and, shock of all shocks, I did something new. Gasp at the horror! LOL. I laugh because before the kids were born I was always about doing something new and now I drag my feet.
However I just went into the Hair Saloon and said "Screw it" then got my eyebrows waxed. I had never done it before and I had been thinking about it, just never had the courage. Last weekend I garnered it and came out with a freshly waxed set of eyebrows. I'll admit, I'm not sure about the shape the lady put them in, but hell it was my first time, how was I to know?
It's like a whole new me started that night after the God and Goddess spoke to me. Not just a new me, but a new lease on life. All because I finally surrendered to the journey instead of striving for the destination.
That leads me to the last and most recent event that solidified the whole concept in my mind. I was talking to my college coach (think life skills coach geared only to my classroom situation though she and I always manage to talk about everything else as well). We were talking about how things have been since my intervention and in doing that phrase came to me. Which, incidentally, is also a Chinese Proverb, or at least a paraphrase of one.
So how does my story meet my life? Well, it's actually pretty simple.
Such short lives, filled with cares that could never compare to history. In some ways Sela wished that she could shake each and everyone one of them, tell them in lurid detail how lucky they were to live and die, to share with them the beauty that simple mortality gave them.
The main character is Sela and she's, you got it, an Immortal. Currently we're looking in on her during a week that she takes for herself every year to take a trip down memory lane. She does it for sanity purposes. Overall I think the story is good, I need to spruce it up a bit of course, but on the whole, it's a good story. I do have one complaint and that's only because I couldn't do what I really wanted to do which was go from Sela's trip down memory lane then on to the drama of dealing with another Immortal that she hates because he's in jail for murder. His sentence is life, which as I'm sure you can imagine, would be a problem.
I had this whole time line planned out, meet Sela during her birth week (thanks to a friend of mine I found out that during the time period I had chosen for Sela, the idea of a date to celebrate ones birth hadn't taken hold at the time. Because of this fact Sela choose a date that is close to when she thinks she was born, the first few hundred years is a little hazy for her though so she doesn't know for sure, you understand.) Then go on to the prison to talk to the guy she hates, the only guy she hates. Lots of snippy comments back and forth, a little flash black and tiny breakout attempt (or was it an attempt?) then the story is over.
The problem is that putting that much detail into 4,000 words is impossible. I know, I tried it. Sigh, so maybe someday I'll be able to flesh out the rest. Hell, maybe I'll do it just for the hell of it. If I don't win the contest perhaps I can do that for another contest that allows more than 4,000 words. 25,000 is a good number, I'll look for that instead then I'll be in business.
Anyway, that's not the point I actually wanted to talk about. The point I do want to discuss is how cool, if not a bit ironic, a particular part happens to directly relate to a personal epiphany that I had. Here, I'll quote from the story then go on to explain how I mean.
It was during this time that Sela could feel a role reversal with them. These mortals would take this time to throw off their cares and worries, experience the moment for what it was. To live in just this space without having their problems drag them down. For this one week Sela relied on that fact, needing it like a drug addict needed their fix. It kept her from going down a path of insensibility, kept her sane as she allowed memories of events, friends and families long past to rise up for their say.
That kind of sums up the theme of the story in regards to Immortals, at least in my opinion. I've asked a slew of people whether they would want to be immortal and everyone said yes as long as their was a provision allowing their loved ones (spouse, children, maybe parents) could be immortal together. This says something to me as a whole, that we all wish we could stop worrying about the future (think about it, the phrase I'll get to it eventually takes on a whole new meaning when you can live forever) and that they value the people around them in such a way that they think they can stand being around them for all eternity.
This, however, is not my epiphany though I can't exactly call it an epiphany. Usually those are almost instantaneous, kind of a big huge wham, bam, oh my if I had only figured that out ten years ago! So technically it's just a revelation that I believe started with Sela. My realization is that it's okay to surrender to the pull of life around me.
All right, I can imagine some of you saying "Well duh, we all know that." But do we really? How many of us really put that thought into this moment? I mean, right now I am sitting in front of a computer, trying to focus with contacts that I'm about ready to take out just so I can read this easier, but does it mean anything? Usually I'm wondering, during the pauses of my thought process that is, what do I have to do next. What is on my agenda, what is on my plan for the day. I have since realized however that doing that kind of worrying is extremely stressful. We can all make lists until our hands are crippled in a serious cramp, but what does that get us?
That's an answer for each individual to give, but for myself the answer is nothing. I always felt that I had to be doing something that pushes me forward. That propels me to the next step whether it's cooking dinner or taking the kids out somewhere. Until recently I felt I was nailed down into so many different roles and realities that I felt as if I was being pulled apart by the strain.
While writing Sela's thoughts about living in the moment, it didn't occur to me that I was about to start a very short road from a pressure filled world to a decrease of stress by at least 35% (I'd say more, but that's today, we'll see how it goes tomorrow). In other words folks, I don't feel as tired as I usually do despite having trouble sleeping (really weird and freaky dreams, I'll tell you all about it later once I figure out what flying in lingerie is trying to tell me...p.s. if you know, feel free to tell me).
Okay, give me a sec, I have to take out these contacts, blurred vision is so not fun.....
Ahhh, now I can read the screen....so where was I? Ah yes my revelation.
The first step of this revelation came from Sela I think, a subconscious light flickering on. It just took me about a month and a half for it to go from the subconscious to the conscious forefront. The second came from Ike, my hubby. We were talking about school and the problem I was having about being a writer while going for my web design degree. Basically I felt I was betraying a part of myself due to the school aspect. He said, in a way, that I sometimes just have to surrender to the direction I'm going. While he didn't say that message exactly I think he was trying to, or at least that's what I heard from him.
He was right though, but I didn't realize the truth of his message until later. I want to talk about it though before I explain how it finally sank in. Too many times have I found myself doing something other than writing full time (which, by the way, is my dream reality. To do nothing but write.) To do this though it means I'd have to give up a few things. Like my art, web pages, the various Internet activities that I do. Maybe even more than that. It's a fine ambition, but hardly practical considering the age of my kids. If I keep trying to fight the reality of my life, the various roles that I'm playing as Mother, Wife, Woman, Writer, Artist, Web Designer, etc then all I'm going to do is tear myself up.
Let me tell you, it's not fun doing that. I kept trying to find balance, but it wasn't coming to me. Something always felt like it was more important and that I had to handle that now instead of later.
Then, about three weeks ago I received a Divine Intervention. Close to midnight I was hit with an urge to gather some supplies. It was the type of urge that ignoring it hurts and ultimately I had no choice in the matter. In a short space of time I did an impromptu Ritual that even now I can't remember all that I said or did. There is only one part that is still clear as a bell in my mind even three weeks later.
Now, before this I was starting to get irritated at how some Christian believers can be so pushy about their faith. It's like the idea of believing something else is an affront to a few people and they just keep going on and on without listening or even trying to understand an alternate point of view. There are Christians that are the exact opposite (one is a very good friend of mine and we are involved in a very long conversation about our extremely opposite views and I love it so don't think I'm knocking the religion, just those that are unwilling to be open minded okay) which is fantastic, I wish the whole host of believers were the same way and perhaps one day they will be. My irritation were with the handful that aren't however and it seemed that I was finding them everywhere. Go to my church, this faith is the absolute truth no matter what, etc.
For them, sure, not for me though. Anyway, my irritation was starting to be expressed by severe sarcasm and when I get severe it's so sharp you could cut yourself with it (the gift of being a writer I think). In addition my feelings were starting to ripple toward individuals who aren't like that, but that I know are Christian. This, by the way, is not a very Wiccan way to live, but I couldn't stop myself. It just kept slipping out of me and I was having a serious control issue.
Well, that night I received a very important message from the God and Goddess. They told me very firmly "Don't scorn the Christian heart." In that instant I felt all my irritation and negativity just float away. I literally got the sense knocked back into my skull. What I didn't realize was that they left a parting gift. I have found in my experience that each time I'm in communion with the God and Goddess I often learn more than just the primary message that I get from Them. I've talked to others who have had similar experiences, even with the Christian God as well I might as well add, who find the same circumstances.
Well, the gift they gave me was a deeper understanding of myself. The release of all that aggravation also freed me from this road block I had in regards to my life. Without even realizing it, the moment I closed the circle I actually stopped fighting my life. I was finding my balance. Decisions on going out and doing something for myself were suddenly much easier for me.
The next day I did a major house cleaning, got rid of a lot of old stuff that had to just go. I hung up some pictures (finally) in my downstairs area then lost my dog. LOL. I laugh now, I wasn't laughing then.
What is interesting though is that I think Chelsey escaping from the fence then go missing for two days straight was a test to see if I had really absorbed the message. Despite not being able to sleep or study for my midterms or do my major research paper and even trying to keep the kids from being too upset (btw, if you have young children and your pet goes missing, tell them the pet in question is on an adventure and will be back soon. It worked amazingly well for Raven) I didn't feel like the world was crashing around me. That even though I was really upset I just knew it was going to be okay, that I would find her.
We did find her and I was deliriously happy because my husband came home from his trip two hours later, at which point I then collapsed in bed and slept off the exhaustion I was feeling. And the next day I didn't feel drained like I usually do after a serious situation like that. I wasn't completely rejuvenated, but I also wasn't wondering what else would go wrong.
That was completely uplifting...once I realized it that is (remember, revelations take time to articulate even in our own heads).
There are two more incidents that really pushed the whole concept into my consciousness. The first one that happened did so last week on Thursday. I was talking with my personal trainer when I noticed that despite being only 24, he looked more stressed and tired that I was. I mean, heck he's 24, unmarried (with a steady girlfriend) and a great job. I thought he should be living life for all it was worth, but he wasn't. He was in the process of telling me that he still needed to do my diet and the diet for 30 other people when I got up and closed the door to his office. I told him quite frankly and upfront that he had to start taking care of himself. Take time for himself and I told him everything I've been trying to tell myself, that Ike has been telling me...hell, that everyone I knew was telling me. Take time for yourself, be true to your own needs because if you can't do that then you can't take care of other people.
After I left the gym though I got to thinking about what I told him, what message I was trying to convey to him and realized that I don't do that myself. How could I, a person that was having trouble merging my own life give someone advice on how to do it. That was when I realized that I have to stop making excuses to not do it. That I just had to get up, shake myself and, well, do it.
So I did. The whole next week, since I knew Ike was going to be leaving for another trip, I went out and did something for just me. I bought a new dress (yes, I finally am trying to buy dresses which is something I haven't done since I was 18 I think...I'm not a dress person), I bought a few other pieces for my wardrobe. I also got myself a haircut that I've been meaning to get done and, shock of all shocks, I did something new. Gasp at the horror! LOL. I laugh because before the kids were born I was always about doing something new and now I drag my feet.
However I just went into the Hair Saloon and said "Screw it" then got my eyebrows waxed. I had never done it before and I had been thinking about it, just never had the courage. Last weekend I garnered it and came out with a freshly waxed set of eyebrows. I'll admit, I'm not sure about the shape the lady put them in, but hell it was my first time, how was I to know?
It's like a whole new me started that night after the God and Goddess spoke to me. Not just a new me, but a new lease on life. All because I finally surrendered to the journey instead of striving for the destination.
That leads me to the last and most recent event that solidified the whole concept in my mind. I was talking to my college coach (think life skills coach geared only to my classroom situation though she and I always manage to talk about everything else as well). We were talking about how things have been since my intervention and in doing that phrase came to me. Which, incidentally, is also a Chinese Proverb, or at least a paraphrase of one.
So how does my story meet my life? Well, it's actually pretty simple.
Such short lives, filled with cares that could never compare to history. In some ways Sela wished that she could shake each and everyone one of them, tell them in lurid detail how lucky they were to live and die, to share with them the beauty that simple mortality gave them.
Monday, 23 February 2009
Begone Age!
I have come to realize that I'm getting older. I'm not old, just older than I was two weeks ago. Actually, to be truthful, I'm older than I was five years ago. I'm not just talking about the physical...though I am...but it's more than that though. I'm actually starting to feel old inside as well. It's not very pleasant.
So here is the situation. I'm at the computer. I'm reading a site that a friend of mine sent me, just doing the looking and saw an article that I like. The problem is that it's on a black background with tiny white type. I'm squinting..then I try not to squint and end up leaning only to squint and lean. Not only is this something I hate, it makes me feel old. It reminds me that I'm only a year and a half away from 30.
So the question becomes this: Does the fact that I'm starting to feel the age that I actually am mean something or am I just having a bad age night? Am I trying to avoid reality or trying to stave it off?
Two days ago my Mom and I were talking about Lasik and PRK surgery for the eyes. She got it done about 8 years ago and she's still a fan. I'm talking about how my eyes have been behaving and she says "Well Jess, you might need to get bi-focals."...........
WHAT?
Now, I'm an open minded individual. I tell people all the time that old isn't until you hit 100, then you can say that you're getting old. I tease my husband because he doesn't want to wear his glasses because they make him realize that he's getting older. Why? Because I have always thought that being concerned with age is a bit of a waste of time. So suddenly when my Mom hit me with that statement I found myself confronted with a plain and simple truth.
I'm a hypocrite!
Here I am trying to help alleviate the worries of individuals who have more years than I that they really aren't old and suddenly when I hear that I might have to get bi-focals I rebel because it means that I'm old-er.
The worse part, I'm not sure what to do about this feeling in my head because it's like beating at my skull saying "You're getting older, you're getting older!" I mean, come on, I'm suppose to be young forever if not in body then in mind right? Right? RIGHT?
I keep saying that to the voice, but for some reason I can't ignore it.......and frankly I'm not happy about it.
Jess
So here is the situation. I'm at the computer. I'm reading a site that a friend of mine sent me, just doing the looking and saw an article that I like. The problem is that it's on a black background with tiny white type. I'm squinting..then I try not to squint and end up leaning only to squint and lean. Not only is this something I hate, it makes me feel old. It reminds me that I'm only a year and a half away from 30.
So the question becomes this: Does the fact that I'm starting to feel the age that I actually am mean something or am I just having a bad age night? Am I trying to avoid reality or trying to stave it off?
Two days ago my Mom and I were talking about Lasik and PRK surgery for the eyes. She got it done about 8 years ago and she's still a fan. I'm talking about how my eyes have been behaving and she says "Well Jess, you might need to get bi-focals."...........
WHAT?
Now, I'm an open minded individual. I tell people all the time that old isn't until you hit 100, then you can say that you're getting old. I tease my husband because he doesn't want to wear his glasses because they make him realize that he's getting older. Why? Because I have always thought that being concerned with age is a bit of a waste of time. So suddenly when my Mom hit me with that statement I found myself confronted with a plain and simple truth.
I'm a hypocrite!
Here I am trying to help alleviate the worries of individuals who have more years than I that they really aren't old and suddenly when I hear that I might have to get bi-focals I rebel because it means that I'm old-er.
The worse part, I'm not sure what to do about this feeling in my head because it's like beating at my skull saying "You're getting older, you're getting older!" I mean, come on, I'm suppose to be young forever if not in body then in mind right? Right? RIGHT?
I keep saying that to the voice, but for some reason I can't ignore it.......and frankly I'm not happy about it.
Jess
Friday, 16 January 2009
Neck deep in Cheers, Tears and....
I couldn't come up with a suitable word that rhymed and was accurate about today. It wasn't too bad I suppose, not until night had fallen. I spent about eight hours, off and on throughout the day, working on my homework which is a pain in the butt simply because for some stupid reason we're not suppose to use our other programs along with Flash to do it.....okay, it's not completely stupid. Impractical perhaps simply because in the 'real world' of the profession, the client isn't going to say "Well, we would like to have a furniture gallery and could you please make sure it is done only in Adobe Flash?" In reality he's going to say, "We need a furniture gallery that has some animation to it and something that looks professional and cool."
So I cheated....okay, not exactly what I would call cheat. My instructor, at the beginning of the class, told us that we could take a picture, lock it then trace it using Flash. So, that's what I did...technically. In reality I planned the whole layout of the project in Photoshop then moved it into Flash, traced it, redid it all in Flash and now I'm in the middle of animating it. So it's not cheating precisely, just improvising..... When it's turned in, all the pictures will be done in Flash and he doesn't have to know about me using the Photoshop program.
I don't feel dishonest and I don't feel like I should validate my decision because ultimately, if I want to get a good grade and pass with Honors again then I have to be creative...in more ways than one. So I'll work with what I do best then move it to practice what I don't do so well. It's the way of the Web Designer by the way.
While stressful, that wasn't the hardest part of today. The hardest part dealt with the kids. Currently my hubby is TDY (Temporary Duty) in another part of the US. He's been gone for 6 days and I have 9 days to go before he comes back. That means waking up early every morning, going to bed early (both of which I hate), feed the kids, dress the kids, bathe the kids, read to the kids, play with the kids, handle the kids, discipline the kids, listen to the kids scream, toss fits and oh yeah, break up the kids when they decide to fight. All the while trying to do my homework, work on the my Internet projects, write articles for the newsletter which is due in like a month anyway, work on my book, clean the house, take care of the cat and dog, go to the gym, get Raven started in school, try to find some way to have an eye appointment, empty out a few boxes, remember to feed myself, try to relax, finish a model that I started......
I'm exhausted just writing about it. For the last three days Isaiah hasn't been in the best of moods, which has made my daily routine somehow worse. He is insisting on being with me, either having me hold him or have him sit in my lap. Now this kid is getting heavy and lets be honest, washing dishes with one hand is just not a talent that I've developed. I'm good, but I'm not that good. It gets even harder when he refuses to let me do what is necessary.
For example, tonight we went and did some shopping. Food for the most part, but we also picked up new socks and underwear for Raven today, a new pair of pants because I think she just had another growth spurt, two belts because while she's tall, she's thin too (I'm trying not to be jealous of that fact by the way....succeeding for the most part but there are days....), plus I'm going to try and build my own organizer. Why? Because what I want to use it for, the ones that are available today wouldn't be able to do what I need. I tried using the computer calendar and that crashed and burned so bad that it hurt.
When we got home, I naturally have to bring the packages in. For one thing the dog food was in there and Chelsey (our dog) seems to enjoy eating, go figure. I also had some milk and other items that has to be refrigerated. Now, yes, it is a bit chilly these days, but I'm not going to let that stuff sit outside for an hour until the kids go to bed. So I started bringing it in. Isaiah was screaming and carrying on so badly that he headbutted the door. Amusing when you read it, but when you look at this big shiny red mark on his head, you don't feel like laughing. I'm at my wits end trying to get him to stop being so clingy to me.
I will be the first to admit that I wanted a boy because I liked the idea of a Mama's Boy....to a degree, but this is ridiculous folks. I grew up in a family that was about self reliance, I would like my kids to be the same way, but for some reason it's not working that way. Raven is bad, Isaiah gets really bad. Then again there are some days when both kids are really good about it. They don't cry at the drop of the hat, they don't have tantrums or anything like that every second. Then there are days like today when everything is wrong and Mommy's the reason for it.
What makes this all the worse, in my mind anyway, is that I don't want to do any of it. What I want to do is sit down with my manuscript and work on that...all day...every day. Obviously I can't, if anyone can when they have two children the same age as mine I feel two things for them. One is envy because I wish I could, and the other is pity because they don't choose to spend half or a majority of their time with their children. Now, perhaps, I'm a bit too enveloped in their lives, too deeply ingrained which would certainly explain why Isaiah is as needy as he tends to be at times. Then again, I like being able to share all their cheers and tears with them....
Okay, that settles it, I'm an oxymoron, a paradox that can't be happy or unhappy with the situation as it is. I'm just tired and there are days when I question my sanity then I look into their faces and realize that it's worth every hair pulling day.
----
Today I spoke to Raven about the 'monsters' that touch where they aren't suppose to. It took about twenty minutes to get her to understand it I think. The hang up was the word 'bad people' so it ended up being monsters. I thought that was good idea simply because I have to agree, if anyone molests a child are monsters. She knows that she's suppose to scream, run away and call out for either me or the cops. I tried to tell her she could scream out for her Daddy, but that seemed to confuse the issue so right now it's me and the cops if someone touches her in the bad place. I mention this because I had written last week about the oddity of my thoughts and my actions. Well, this actually is something that falls under that case.
You see I have all the paperwork for Raven to start school, it's filled out and practically ready to go. I plan on going in on Monday to get her started post haste. What I didn't realize until today, was the real reason why I had been putting off taking it in sooner. It came to me as soon as Raven and I stopped talking about the 'monsters'. It was a bit of fear. The idea that Raven is going to a school that I barely know, to be with kids and teachers I don't know very well scares me. I just have this worry gnawing at me unconsciously and I think it's because I was trying to put off the conversation with her.
I mean I wasn't sure if she was ready for it, if she could understand the concept. While I don't think she understands the why it's bad and that she must do what I told her to do, I think she does understand that it is bad and will do as I told her if it happens. I had tried earlier this week to talk to her about the password idea. I'm not sure if anyone is aware of the principle, but basically it works like this.
Let's say I can't pick Raven up at the bus stop for whatever reason...let's say I'm in the Hospital, so I send one of Ike's co-workers to pick her up for us. When he or she arrives there and Raven gets off the bus, the person will naturally say, "Your Mom and Dad asked me to pick you up." The way it's suppose to work is that immediately Raven should ask for the password. If the person knows it then she can go with them. If they don't, run to a police officer or someone of authority (teacher, bus driver...etc). I didn't get very far with that convo....I'm going to try again before Monday and hopefully I can think of a better way to explain it.
Doing this though reinforces the idea that today is a scary world. We have all sorts of people doing jacked up stuff that leaves me questioning about the direction the human race is taking. We seem to have more criminals than good guys sometimes....I stress the sometimes though folks because on most days I'm not feeling the strain of the day and can actually look at life with a bit of optimism....don't get me wrong, I'm more pragmatist than optimist, but there are days when I can fool myself into thinking more optimistically about general concepts.
--
You know, for a blog that's suppose to be about writing, I'm not talking about writing. Forgive me for it, but I'm not going to change the content. I really do think this is more about power writing than subject sometimes. For today it's about me pouring out inconsistent thoughts that plague my subconscious.
So I cheated....okay, not exactly what I would call cheat. My instructor, at the beginning of the class, told us that we could take a picture, lock it then trace it using Flash. So, that's what I did...technically. In reality I planned the whole layout of the project in Photoshop then moved it into Flash, traced it, redid it all in Flash and now I'm in the middle of animating it. So it's not cheating precisely, just improvising..... When it's turned in, all the pictures will be done in Flash and he doesn't have to know about me using the Photoshop program.
I don't feel dishonest and I don't feel like I should validate my decision because ultimately, if I want to get a good grade and pass with Honors again then I have to be creative...in more ways than one. So I'll work with what I do best then move it to practice what I don't do so well. It's the way of the Web Designer by the way.
While stressful, that wasn't the hardest part of today. The hardest part dealt with the kids. Currently my hubby is TDY (Temporary Duty) in another part of the US. He's been gone for 6 days and I have 9 days to go before he comes back. That means waking up early every morning, going to bed early (both of which I hate), feed the kids, dress the kids, bathe the kids, read to the kids, play with the kids, handle the kids, discipline the kids, listen to the kids scream, toss fits and oh yeah, break up the kids when they decide to fight. All the while trying to do my homework, work on the my Internet projects, write articles for the newsletter which is due in like a month anyway, work on my book, clean the house, take care of the cat and dog, go to the gym, get Raven started in school, try to find some way to have an eye appointment, empty out a few boxes, remember to feed myself, try to relax, finish a model that I started......
I'm exhausted just writing about it. For the last three days Isaiah hasn't been in the best of moods, which has made my daily routine somehow worse. He is insisting on being with me, either having me hold him or have him sit in my lap. Now this kid is getting heavy and lets be honest, washing dishes with one hand is just not a talent that I've developed. I'm good, but I'm not that good. It gets even harder when he refuses to let me do what is necessary.
For example, tonight we went and did some shopping. Food for the most part, but we also picked up new socks and underwear for Raven today, a new pair of pants because I think she just had another growth spurt, two belts because while she's tall, she's thin too (I'm trying not to be jealous of that fact by the way....succeeding for the most part but there are days....), plus I'm going to try and build my own organizer. Why? Because what I want to use it for, the ones that are available today wouldn't be able to do what I need. I tried using the computer calendar and that crashed and burned so bad that it hurt.
When we got home, I naturally have to bring the packages in. For one thing the dog food was in there and Chelsey (our dog) seems to enjoy eating, go figure. I also had some milk and other items that has to be refrigerated. Now, yes, it is a bit chilly these days, but I'm not going to let that stuff sit outside for an hour until the kids go to bed. So I started bringing it in. Isaiah was screaming and carrying on so badly that he headbutted the door. Amusing when you read it, but when you look at this big shiny red mark on his head, you don't feel like laughing. I'm at my wits end trying to get him to stop being so clingy to me.
I will be the first to admit that I wanted a boy because I liked the idea of a Mama's Boy....to a degree, but this is ridiculous folks. I grew up in a family that was about self reliance, I would like my kids to be the same way, but for some reason it's not working that way. Raven is bad, Isaiah gets really bad. Then again there are some days when both kids are really good about it. They don't cry at the drop of the hat, they don't have tantrums or anything like that every second. Then there are days like today when everything is wrong and Mommy's the reason for it.
What makes this all the worse, in my mind anyway, is that I don't want to do any of it. What I want to do is sit down with my manuscript and work on that...all day...every day. Obviously I can't, if anyone can when they have two children the same age as mine I feel two things for them. One is envy because I wish I could, and the other is pity because they don't choose to spend half or a majority of their time with their children. Now, perhaps, I'm a bit too enveloped in their lives, too deeply ingrained which would certainly explain why Isaiah is as needy as he tends to be at times. Then again, I like being able to share all their cheers and tears with them....
Okay, that settles it, I'm an oxymoron, a paradox that can't be happy or unhappy with the situation as it is. I'm just tired and there are days when I question my sanity then I look into their faces and realize that it's worth every hair pulling day.
----
Today I spoke to Raven about the 'monsters' that touch where they aren't suppose to. It took about twenty minutes to get her to understand it I think. The hang up was the word 'bad people' so it ended up being monsters. I thought that was good idea simply because I have to agree, if anyone molests a child are monsters. She knows that she's suppose to scream, run away and call out for either me or the cops. I tried to tell her she could scream out for her Daddy, but that seemed to confuse the issue so right now it's me and the cops if someone touches her in the bad place. I mention this because I had written last week about the oddity of my thoughts and my actions. Well, this actually is something that falls under that case.
You see I have all the paperwork for Raven to start school, it's filled out and practically ready to go. I plan on going in on Monday to get her started post haste. What I didn't realize until today, was the real reason why I had been putting off taking it in sooner. It came to me as soon as Raven and I stopped talking about the 'monsters'. It was a bit of fear. The idea that Raven is going to a school that I barely know, to be with kids and teachers I don't know very well scares me. I just have this worry gnawing at me unconsciously and I think it's because I was trying to put off the conversation with her.
I mean I wasn't sure if she was ready for it, if she could understand the concept. While I don't think she understands the why it's bad and that she must do what I told her to do, I think she does understand that it is bad and will do as I told her if it happens. I had tried earlier this week to talk to her about the password idea. I'm not sure if anyone is aware of the principle, but basically it works like this.
Let's say I can't pick Raven up at the bus stop for whatever reason...let's say I'm in the Hospital, so I send one of Ike's co-workers to pick her up for us. When he or she arrives there and Raven gets off the bus, the person will naturally say, "Your Mom and Dad asked me to pick you up." The way it's suppose to work is that immediately Raven should ask for the password. If the person knows it then she can go with them. If they don't, run to a police officer or someone of authority (teacher, bus driver...etc). I didn't get very far with that convo....I'm going to try again before Monday and hopefully I can think of a better way to explain it.
Doing this though reinforces the idea that today is a scary world. We have all sorts of people doing jacked up stuff that leaves me questioning about the direction the human race is taking. We seem to have more criminals than good guys sometimes....I stress the sometimes though folks because on most days I'm not feeling the strain of the day and can actually look at life with a bit of optimism....don't get me wrong, I'm more pragmatist than optimist, but there are days when I can fool myself into thinking more optimistically about general concepts.
--
You know, for a blog that's suppose to be about writing, I'm not talking about writing. Forgive me for it, but I'm not going to change the content. I really do think this is more about power writing than subject sometimes. For today it's about me pouring out inconsistent thoughts that plague my subconscious.
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