SO much going on in my life these fast heartbreaking terrifying precious days. I am dealing with my mother dying, sometimes actively, of colon cancer. I am dealing with my husband struggling to impress with a new job. I am dealing with emotional and needy toddler boys. I am dealing with a high stress job and my own personal performance of it. I am dealing with the realization of how agonizingly short life can be. I am struggling with improving the health of my mind and body. I am struggling with the choices of my past. I am struggling with my new inability to seek solace in reading..and in writing.
I used to be able to write and to let the pain ooze out into my words. I understood inspiration. I felt it and let it breath through me. I had passion and conviction and I believed, even a tiny bit, in magic. These days, reality is my boon companion. Hard grey constipated rocks of reality. Sapping me of the joy of living.
I want to find my way back. The beauty of living is how we chose to see it. How we let ourselves dream and reflect. I am getting bogged down in the details. I am letting it frustrate me. I had a dream as I was waking up the other morning that just cracked me up. I dreamt I was making love with Spock from Star Trek. I awoke giggling. First, I hadn't dreamt of anything sexual in some time. Or of anything that had to do with my old love of Star Trek. Mostly, I wondered if my sub brain was telling me something. Am I allowing myself to be fucked over by the mundane and the logical and the stoic parts of reality too much? Am I shut down emotionally so far that the beauty of living has escaped me? Perhaps, perhaps.
For now, I've returned to the early morning of me. Coffee by my side. Listening to a stiff winter breeze brush over the hard frozen landscape outside. Listening to the distant pings and dings of my husband's computer downstairs. Listening to the deep sighs of my shelty at the foot of the bed. I will have a day of dealing with car stickers and paying some bills and re-filing for Medicaid and making sure my nursing home bound mother gets fed and attended to properly. I need to talk to my son's bitchy preschool teacher and face the front office with a smile about our bounced check from this month (when we literally ran out of money after my husband lost his job in November). I will WILL go to the appointment with my young therapist this afternoon. She is a delight and she has helped me immeasurably in the last few desperate weeks.
I am however, going to try diligently to find a few moments today and open a book. A new book, an old book, doesn't matter. I am going to try to regain some love of beauty in my life. I want to feel the tingle of even an imagined bit of magic inside me and around me.
I am quite sure it is still there.
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