With the New Year still new, millions of thoughts and ideas for how I will spend 2010have crossed my mind. I decided to go without a list of things that I will "resolve" during this year and chose two words that sum up two main areas that I desperately would like to lend my focus.
1.) SIMPLIFY--Limit the ways in which I over-extend myself to emotions, people, projects, obligations etc. I'm learning that the simplistic life is a happy life. I realize that this day in age living a simple life is not so simple, yet I refuse to be completely ruled by the ways of society! I plan to garden and take in many breaths of the four seasons as I enjoy the outdoors and the beauty of the NW this year. I'd also like to reduce excess spending and use up what I have before I buy more!
2.) CHERISH--My children are growing up rapidly! I am lucky to be a stay-at-home mama, but I am a busy/ambitious/business oriented stay-at-home mama. Did I ever mention we own a business? This year I plan to focus on cherishing the simple, everyday moments as much as possible. I refuse to be overrun with have-to's and am resolving to be more in tune with the beautiful family I've been blessed with, and the love and happiness that they offer me day in and day out. The memories, growth, learning and all that having a family has instilled within me over the last four years are the things that are irreplaceable. They're the things that I cherish, and want to cherish even more.
As for my writing, I have yet to zero in on a concrete plan. I had hoped to be knee-deep in a book proposal by now, but I am not. Instead, documents and scenes flood my word processor and my mind. The plan is to meet with Kerry Cohen, the author and memoirist who has kindly offered to help guide me in my process, so that I can begin the mountainous trek involved in writing such a proposal, and really, such material.
For years, I've practically felt plagued by my need to write my story, while without the exact knowing how to go about writing such memories; worrying that I might be overcome with depression while trying to invite such dreadful memories back in to be able to write them, means re-living them to an extent. And really, living them down is what I have been trying to do for so long, that re-living the memories is daunting, and frightening.
Monday, I was on the phone with my Mom and was telling her about the last three weeks that I have pretty much taken off from everything--blogging, reading, writing. I had been feeling so overcome with it all that I was feeling depleted, and to be honest, I feel like I am still coming to.
During our conversation, I jumped around talking about a possible business opportunity, while another thought of an Etsy shop crossed my mind. Then it dawned on me, here I go again--searching high and low for something to fulfill the ambition that my heart wants to zero in on. Then I find myself fighting back the urge to just cry because of how difficult it is to want to write but feeling unable to find the right balance to do so while raising a family. There is something inside me that can't seem to reconcile a little less time here to be used over there, so I pull back. Oh, balance. What a tricky fete to conquer! But then I have to wonder, is it me feeling guilty to want to take large quantities of time away from my kids to try and write this book, or is it some of this and feeling cold feet? Kerry Cohen said, writing a memoir is like telling the world your secrets. Certain days, I am not sure I am up for all that.
My Mom's and my conversation ended pretty abruptly. I was in the driveway of Brooklynn's preschool and had to get out to greet her. As I waited for her to be released, I stood shivering in the rain. Why would I even think to wear running shorts without pants today, I thought. Then I looked down into the large puddles in front of me. I watched as the rain fell, drops expanding to create a ripple effect, growing larger and larger. Then my writing came to mind, and I was reminded that my writing isn't all about me. It's about the others who might be affected by my sharing and the ripple affect that may be created. Then it all feels worth it. The rainy years, the tear drops, the pivotal moments. I don't believe it was for nought. In fact, I know it wasn't.
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