Wednesday, Mar 6, 2013 | Kids, Spirit |
Life is about taking care of what you’ve got.
And it’s about making way for new things, too.
I’m pleased to report that our vehicle has been returned to us, after a week in the repair shop. After doing some serious number crunching, we’ve decided to keep it for now, although ideally we’d love to be driving a smaller, more fuel-efficient vehicle. Put it on the wish list. (Speaking of which: we’ve got one of those hanging on the fridge from the fall of 2011, and our wishes now look wildly out of date; most of them didn’t come true, and we find ourselves no longer wishing for those things. Curious, huh.)
I’m also pleased to report that my manuscript has left the house. I’ve put it into the good hands of my agent, whom I trust to tell me yea or nay, or some combination thereof. It will be awhile before she gets a chance to read it, and I’m grateful for the mental break. My writing days were getting obsessional in the extreme toward the end of the editing process, and it’s a relief to have space.
I would like to tell you more about where I’m at, right now.
I am standing in the middle of a wide field. I am looking at everything that surrounds me, and it is filled with possibility and potential, and vivid striations of colour and texture and weather. I could turn and walk to the east, to the west, to the south, to the north, or even to explore in a curving, meandering, curious path that does not follow any one direction. I am waiting. I am weighing. I am listening. I am gathering clues. I am open. I am not afraid of stepping the wrong way. I know there are many ways to explore this field. There are many rich and rewarding destinations. Fortune will call me, one way or another, and I will go.
I’ll tell you when I start moving. But for now, I’m quite still.
Tuesday, Mar 5, 2013 | Kevin, Kids, Soccer |
(click on photos to see in full)
Last night the whole family watched Kevin and AppleApple’s indoor house league team compete in the Cup final. It was the first game I’ve seen all season, usually being at home putting children to bed. It was past bedtime for a few of the fans, whose enthusiasm shines through in the photo above. I neglected to bring snacks. Thankfully, the sister took the little bro to the water fountain numerous times, for the purposes of distraction. I was too busy standing on the sidelines, shouting with excitement and doing a play-by-play narration of the game. I can’t seem to help myself.
“You’re saying things kind of loud, Mom.”
The final score was 2-1 in favour of the Gold Strikers! AppleApple played her heart out, scoring the opening goal on a beauty of a penalty kick (see, there’s the play-by-play narration), and the whole team displayed calm under pressure, whilst overcoming adversity, too.
One of the team’s top players, and their star goalie, broke her arm before the game, but came out to cheer. The player who subbed in as goalie in the first half was playing her first season of soccer. (In fact, two team members had never played soccer before this season). Another player had to walk to the field because her mom’s car had broken down — she arrived in time for the second half, and scored the second goal on an assist by AppleApple.
What I liked best was seeing how proud Kevin was of all the players, whose skills advanced greatly over the course of the season. They didn’t look like a powerhouse team, but they knew exactly how to manage the kick-ins, the corner kicks, and where to be on the field. All players got equal playing time regardless of skill level and despite the high pressure stakes (trust me, this does not always happen, even on house league teams, and even though it should). It was exciting to see everyone succeed as individuals and as a team.
Monday, Mar 4, 2013 | Friends, Spirit, Writing |
Recently, I wrote and delivered an anonymous love letter to a neighbourhood friend; I also received an anonymous love letter from a neighbourhood friend.
Trust me, this was not a project I would have undertaken on my own. And the truth is that I felt a certain amount of resentment over the assignment. And it was an assignment — given to a group of friends by one amongst us who was inspired to have us each pick a name out of a hat and write a love letter, anonymously, to the chosen friend. (She was inspired by the site “The World Needs More Love Letters.”)
It took me a month or more to work up the nerve to try. I just didn’t know where to begin. I’m pretty sure I’ve never actually written a love letter, and I was feeling the pressure, being a writer and all, to perform. I was finally inspired/shamed into attempting it by a friend with whom I’d shared my trepidation and resentment.
Here’s the funny thing. I started writing with these very mixed emotions, but as I shaped out the letter, I began to feel this deep welling of emotion. Let’s just admit it and call it love. The very act of thinking about the person who would receive this letter, and attempting to honour her in some small way, made me feel very deeply. It was almost as if I was briefly possessed of an all-enveloping spirit that seemed to go beyond the recipient, as if through my words I could reach out and embrace the whole muddled and unknowable and beautiful world.
Sounds cheesy. Is cheesy. I know, I know.
When I received my own letter, it really hit the spot, too.
And so I have to say thank you to the friend who instigated this experiment. If you’re feeling particularly grumpy, this might be something to try. Or maybe you know someone who could use a little lift in his or her life. This may seem like an odd undertaking, but trust me, it will feel amazing — for you, the writer, and for the one who receives your offering.
Thursday, Feb 28, 2013 | Confessions, Sleep, Spirit, Work, Writing |
“Hope is the thing with feathers …”
Can you see the crows perched in the branches of the trees, above, so thick they almost look like black leaves? Less hopeful, perhaps, than ominous, but extremely compelling. We stood and watched them for ages last night. (Click on the photo to see in full.)
*
Two things I needed, this morning:
1. I needed sleep. And sleep was received, sound and deep, all through the night. I chose not to set my alarm and wake early.
2. I also needed this (though I didn’t know it): a hand-delivered card from the book club I visited on Monday evening. “Fortune befriends the bold” – Emily Dickinson, is printed on the front of the card. I opened it and read the handwritten message inside and sat on the floor and almost cried. It’s the little things, isn’t it. The small gestures that go such a long way toward giving a person that necessary spark. I needed a little spark this morning, as I slog through the manuscript one last time, and hope for the best.
“We were grateful for the opportunity to hear you read; to hear how stories are born in the writer’s imagination; and then, the hard work needed to share that creation with the reader.
“We joked about becoming your fan club, but, in fact, a book club is a fan club of sorts. We celebrate words on the page and we appreciate the courageous few who choose writing as their life work.
“How fortunate we are for your willingness to share your gift with us.”
Thanks to all the book clubs who have bravely and warmly welcomed this writer in. You may not know it, but I consider it a gift, too, to be able to share what I’ve got.
Tuesday, Feb 26, 2013 | Dogs, Kids, Work, Writing |
in my office
Picture me here. That’s my eldest daughter, working on a project this weekend, with the dogs in attendance. The dogs are generally in attendance when I’m in my office. If the kids are around, too, I often discover that the greater population of the house is lounging in my office while I’m trying to work. The floor is warm. It’s cozy. It’s a great place to nap, and to read.
And to write.
Which is what I’m doing today, on a shortened work day, after a sick weekend (I’ve returned to health!), and so I will say little else, even though multiple blog topics are bubbling in my head. I’m afroth with things I’d like to opine about! But work calls. I’m tightening the draft. It’s tedious.
I’m glad the dogs are here too.
