Geoff sent me a link, which is his way of saying, *Darling, I was thinking of you today and I want you to know you are my inspiration. Here is something interesting I want to share with you. Read it, and later this year let's get together and talk about it.* I know him that well.
The link is to an article about writing. You can read it, then let's get together and talk about it.
*Writing is Good*
I am debating whether to say a few flippant remarks about life and then play Dynomite, or say straight out that I still feel in a funk. At what point are we meant to say "uncle?" I have sufficient intelligence to realize that I must get passed regrets and disappointment and accept the present circumstances. I know that life is full of setbacks and challenges; been there, done that, coped and moved on. So, what's up with my funky self now? What's different? Why are the challenges so defeating? I would seriously like to learn more about what I think are the demoralizing affects of feeling like a disconnected nomad. I write all of this at the risk of sounding alarming. I feel like I am managing pretty good under the circumstances and I am not utterly despondent, but there is a huge gap, between where I am and where I want to be and I can't seem to bridge it.
I have been invited to see an altar. It is an altar to "what you want to bring in to your life." You know, I think right now my house is like an altar to what I have already brought in to my life. It reflects my cluttered, muddled, out of balance, faithless funk. Oh dear. All kinds of philosophies, excuses, rationales and questions are brewing in my mind... mid-life crisis, depression, more vitamins, less Martha S., uppers, downers, strong black coffee, chickens, drive to Mexico, shave, maybe it's my deodorant, maybe I should strictly avoid neighborhoods with 2007 Escalades, designers, hair extensions, lipo and life coaches?
My house should reflect family, our family, our laughing, creative, supportive family. My house should reflect my interests, like gardening and cooking, painting, reading, sewing, connecting to family and friends. My house should reflect the gratitude I feel for having shelter and opportunity, a full pantry, clean socks. My house should be clean. I should clean my house... wow, what an epiphany! And maybe my house should have an altar, or I could build one in my heart, but I just don't know what I would put there. (How about a dustbuster and some elbow grease?)
The best news of the week: Max is reading. He made a dream come true for me, when he sat in his bed, propped up by his new pillow and with the reading light his Oregon grandparents sent, and he read an entire book. He read it happily and he felt the cognitive, spiritual *a-ha* of reading joy. We knew it was coming, that he'd find a way, but he didn't know it was possible and he was losing interest fast, and he has his extra challenges, so this is an especially treasured success.
You know, I could erase the rest of my rant-whine and just reflect on Max's success. He is an inspiration. I like Chickenblog to be an honest and complete reflection of life and details, even when it's sad or gritty, then the successes and joys are all the sweeter.