Random thoughts

Off the top of my head
I’ve plucked thoughts of laundry
dinner and love
how one is never done
one must always be planned
and one is never mine
at least not
to my exact specifications
and how all of them
begin with something clean
a cloth a pan a heart
and end up stained
dirty broken or burnt
and I am left to (with some trepidation)
try to get what’s dirty
clean again

Happiness in simple things

Like finding just what you need in a place you maybe wouldn’t have thought to look. Inspired by the finding of a black bow tie at a thrift shop near downtown Indianapolis. It was the finishing touch to a Halloween costume and just as I began to think “we might need to go to a tuxedo shop somewhere and find a new one” there it was. I found it. All I needed was patience and the willingness to SEE. And all it cost, this bit of joy, was 40 cents!

Thrift
A dented gold bell tinkles a welcome
Where mounds of long forgotten and discarded things are sifted and sorted and hanged and shelved in order of size and type and color, though not so orderly that the undiscerning eye can find the value
But where small treasures nonetheless exist
where old things, used and dented and perhaps even abused things
When found by loving hands
Can be made new

After hearing Jane Fonda

I recently listened to a podcast that had me wondering why it takes so long for us to accept who we ARE and in that acceptance LOVE ourselves and be comfortable in our own skin. It’s elusive, this “be who you are because you are the only you” that is sold to us in so many self-esteem promoting “messages”. The “love you” messages are lost, mainly I think, because we are told so often that who we are isn’t “right” or enough. Bombarded with messages of inadequacy actually. Just turn on the television or open up an magazine and you’re there. So you spend your childhood feeling insecure and your teen years feeling ridiculous and your 20s feeling like you still can’t compare and so it goes into your 30s, 40s…and on and on if you don’t come to grips with who you are. The words of Jane Fonda in this podcast resonated as I listened. I am 41 and only now feeling like I can be who I am, Lisa, with no fear. She says in the podcast that she didn’t feel that way, like she could just be Jane, until she was in her 60s. I can’t imagine. I thought 40s was late! I always admire people who seem to get to this point earlier on in life. I’m so grateful that I’m here. I made it to the point where I can look in the mirror and embrace every aspect of me. And oh I am so looking forward to growing more fully and completely into this feeling of freedom. Because it is extremely freeing to just be me. As I contemplated the podcast earlier today, this came to mind so I wrote it down to share with whoever might stumble upon this blog post:

Being yourself means accepting the ugliest parts of you with the knowledge that they can become the most beautiful through your own WILLINGNESS to metamorphose – to, just like the caterpillar, do the WORK necessary to transform – no longer to crawl, but to fly.

What a feeling it is, to fly!

You can listen to the podcast here: http://www.wnyc.org/story/death-and-divorce-gave-jane-fonda-strength/

When writer’s block gets you

I recently read that when you have writer’s block, one of the best things to do is write anyway. So that’s what I’m going to do right now. Write anyway. What I am going to write may not be something particularly mind blowing or interesting. It may, as a matter of fact, just be the ramblings of a person desperate to get beyond the feeling that I need to write something mind blowing or interesting. Honestly, that’s exactly what it is. 

I spend a lot of time trying to be the best I can be at whatever it is I’m doing. I don’t compare myself to other people. I just go about any task or chore with the mindset that I’m going to do it amazingly…well, as amazingly as only I can. There are some things, admittedly, that I am not amazing at. I am not amazing at walking without tripping. I probably trip once a day. I’m kind of clumsy, what can I say? But that’s beside the point. Whenever I write I always think that it HAS TO BE GREAT. I have to write in such a way that whoever is reading whatever I wrote will automatically FALL IN LOVE with my writing and want to read more. Interestingly enough, this kind of thought process can be utterly paralyzing. I have struggled with this for weeks now. My desire to write something awesome has prevented me from writing at all because who out there in the world wants to write something that sucks balls? I certainly don’t, but here I am now, writing something that probably sucks big hairy balls in an effort just to write at all. I’m trying to get over that paralyzing fear. I’m writing whatever you’d like to call THIS in an effort leave the expectations I have of myself and my fear of how others might judge it behind me. I had a goal at the start of this blog to publish at least one time a week. But the only thing I’ve done exceptionally well since starting this blog is master the art of avoidance. That tends to be my way of dealing with things I find unpleasant in general. Putting away laundry, going to the dentist, going to the grocery store… these are things I find extremely unpleasant and annoying and so I generally put them off as long as I possibly can…writing is NOT something I find unpleasant. I love to write and I love the feeling I have when I’ve put my pen to paper (or my fingers to keyboard) and created. I love the art of creation and watching how words paint pictures in my mind, bring back memories of tastes and touch and smell and joy and sorrow and light and dark…it’s a beautiful, wonderful thing! I just hate feeling like I have to be an awesome writer to write. That is unpleasant. It’s also an unfair expectation to have of myself and I realize this. 

On a different, but similar, note, when I was trying to come up with a name for my blog and I was wracking my brain trying to think, think, THINK of something original that would encompass everything I wanted my blog to be, I had the thought of an illness I suffered last year. I still have no idea what was wrong with me but on the way home from work one night in October, I started having excruciating pain in my lower abdomen. I thought maybe I had appendicitis and so did my mother (yes, I called my mom) and so I drove myself to the hospital. It’s a good thing because by the time I got there I felt like I was going to pass the hell out from the pain. At any rate, after many initial tests the doctor still couldn’t pinpoint exactly what my problem was, so I was admitted and the ordered more tests and most terribly, a colonoscopy. You would think that the colonoscopy part of the procedure would be the worst. But no. If you think that you would be wrong. The worst part is the stuff they give you to drink to clean out your colon prior to the procedure. It’s god-awful, and without getting too graphic let’s just say it makes you go to the bathroom and go to the bathroom and go to the bathroom some MORE until when you do go to the bathroom nothing comes out but water. Oh, and did I mention it also makes you really, really nauseous? Good times. Anyway, the whole process was terrible BUT in the end I found out I was OK (just some tweaks to my diet to help my system out) and of course, that was a great thing. My point is that sometimes, in order to see that everything’s OK, you have to go through some things to get to that clarity. And my clarity for what my blog would be named…GOLIFELY…was born out of exactly that…GOING.

I’m glad that I sat here and tapped this out. It may not be great, or even good, but it’s a reminder of my beginnings. It’s also proof that simply GOING (or in this case, just writing) is absolutely the best cure for writers block.