I’m having a heavy week. It’s not bad exactly, just dappled in shadow like leafshades on the grass.
Sophie’s been a fitful version of herself. She’s allergic to bananas of all things, and I can’t shake the feeling that I betrayed her trust by feeding them to her, even though she loved them. Especially because she loved them. This is such a non-problem compared to Celiac Disease or lymphoma or epilepsy or spina bifida–should I go on?–but I keep thinking about banana nut pancakes on Saturday mornings and deflating in tiny puffs.
The weather is on crack, of course, but no one wants to hear more about rain. No, wait, sun. No, rain again. April, get thee to rehab.
I’ve started an intensive workout routine called “walking around.” I am enough of a wimp that circling the neighborhood every day leaves me breathless and sore and feel-goody the rest of the time. The idea was to build up my nonexistent energy, get my blood flowing enough to wash the breakfast dishes without collapsing into a puddle of wife-slush. What I didn’t count on was loving the effort. The steady push-pull of bright air in my lungs. The rhythm of feet on pavement. Wild wisteria, children playing soccer, twilight reflecting off the city’s peak. Twenty minutes a day to expand my hunchback life.
I’ve also been sorting through the tantalizing sludge of What Do I Want To Do When I Grow Up?, except this week, it’s I Finally Know What I Want To Do, So How Do I Do It? If I ignore the time factor (specifically, how I have none), I feel ready to write for broader surroundings. This blog is my cozy little house where I can wear pajama pants all day, let the dishes pile up, and spill my unedited guts. I feel safe and happy here, but I’m aching to get out the door, maybe wear heels and sparkly earrings, give my creativity a big breath.
Now that I’m looking for them, the opportunities are overwhelming. In fact, I’m having trouble staying in tune with my goals in the face of so many almost-rights. It’s like chugging a strange cocktail of doubt, hope, turmoil, and inspiration. Can you get a hangover from excitement? I’m ready to see myself as a writer, and it’s every bit as scary as you might expect… multiplied by a majillion or so.
Taxes are done, I have a functional computer again, and the kitchen floor may just get mopped this week. I am madly in love with my family, and I know what I want to do when I grow up. I’m thinking this heaviness won’t last much longer than the smoky crack-clouds pausing outside our window.
What I love best about the Internet: watching all my writer friends turn into butterflies. Fly, be free! 🙂
Congratulations on figuring out what you want to do when you grow up!
You are a writer already, and a good one at that. I wish you luck getting your writing to a broader public, you will be fine. It would be like your daily walk, steady steps, and loving the effort.
Lizardek – I can’t stop smiling at the butterfly comparison. It makes me feel so… fluttery!
Tom – Thanks! I feel like it should go on a cerficate, or maybe on a memorial plaque. Cross-stitch, anyone?
Beatriz – Thanks so much for the encouragement. I really like what you said about the daily, steady walk; that’s what makes me feel I can do this.
Yes, you are most definitely a writer already! My husband gets tired of me saying ‘when I start writing…’; he says ‘firstly, Just Start, for God’s sakes, and secondly, You’re a Writer Already!’
It’s true and he’s right; how we see ourselves is so important.
I’m sorry about the banana allergy-although you couldn’t possibly have known; but I know food allergies aren’t easy to deal with.
But I’m so excited to hera that you’ve taken up walking- are you talking about power walking? I am feeling so housebound and hating it, but your post made me realise that I can get out there- and get fit at the same time. Walking with the dog doesn’t quite count- that’s quite a slow stroll; no, I need a really good walking work out to bow away all the stress! I’m definitely going to take it up- next week at least. I’ll let you know how I get on, and if you have any hints to share, I’d love to hear them!
Oh, I am probably the last person in the WORLD to give out fitness hints. I’m the kind of gal who makes excuses like “my prostate’s flaring up again” to get out of working out. 🙂 But yeah, I’m power walking with my girls (they love it!) and doing sit-ups in secret (also with the girls… ever done sit-ups with a baby on your stomach?). We’ll see how quickly I can quit the flab this way. Good luck on your walking!