Our brains are so smart
But sometimes not smart enough
To stop the verbal vomit
That ran across our minds
And escaped over our tongues
Bitter to taste
And the air becomes thick with them
Pollution of the elusive kind
Because it may not just be our words
That made a break from the back of our throats
But others’ words have become stagnant in the air
And silence is longed for
But no amount of it
Can take back, repair, mend what was broken by our words
Silence cherished, after the fact
And the lava still boils
In the souls of the receiver
And the words which erupted
From the volcano of our mouths
Spill out into the already intense atmospheric pressure
And all any of us would like to do
Is retrieve them, eat them.
* I originally wrote this on 9-24-2014
It is late night and my mind cannot stop wandering. This tends to happen all day long and especially at night. As a writer, I find the beauty in words from all around me and then my mind gets to wandering. There are so many ideas that I want to come to fruition. I realize that I have to take it one project at a time. I have taken a short break from my novel to write children’s books; so far I have written two. I am really nervous to write my query letters and submit, but it is 2015 and I know that this is “My Year”.
This year, my focus is on my health and in order to keep my MS under control, I need to take care of myself and zero in on peace and happiness. Stress had taken control of me for the past decade and it cannot happen any longer. I notice that I feel so much better when I write, especially for this blog, when I complete a poem, and when I share what I have written. My writing has been a long journey and I will hold onto hope because it is the anchor for my soul.
These words that are in my head are constantly floating around and they make me someone else. I am a different person with each poem or novel/script idea and if I don’t write it down, then I lose that person. My goal is to get to a place where what I do for a living is write down those floating words. And those floating words will support me and my kids and transform the world around me.
So, these were just some things on my mind and if I could offer any advice, it would be to use your gifts. That’s what they are, gifts, and if we don’t use them there could be a time when we lose them.
It will spill from me
Like lava from a volcano
It may consume all the
Inhabitants in its immediate path
But from the burnt ground
And discarded souls
You will hear the truth
See it in the soil
But rich, fruitful and renewed
If you dare me…
I will wait for you to pick
Up the ashes of my truths
And carefully handle them
Until they are cool against your heart
I will wait until your eyes
And mind connect the dots
While your conscience makes
A decision that your subconscious could not
If you dare me…
I’ll let my truth linger
For a moment in your village
I’ll let you rebuild your home
Decorate it new again, fresh again
But, if for any reason
You let the ashes from the lava of my truth
Completely be blown away and taken up by the tide
I will never be transparent
For you again.
I wrote this today in response to a prompt through #TeachersWrite. This happened to me a couple of years back but it was one of those pivotal moments in life that you never forget. One that changes you and your journey forever…
It seemed like I used to know you but that must have been a long time ago. Things have changed with me now and it almost seems as if I have lost my way. But, it was you who sauntered into the room and decided that I was worth your time and that my dreams should no longer be deferred. You looked me in the eyes and I asked me was I happy. I couldn’t understand that you didn’t notice my smile and my laughter. But, you saw past it and asked me who I was. I went into a long detailed speech about how I am an educator, wannabe writer, mother, youngest sibling in my family but, not until I retreated back into my own solitude did I realize that wasn’t the question you were asking me at all.
How could this stranger notice what so many I have surrounded myself with did not? How could this stranger ask me the one question that I have tried to avoid for quite some time? Or maybe I had been waiting for someone to finally call attention to my pain. It is funny how those who seem to want to be nonexistent, really want to exist and those who smile really want to cry. For all of the charades that are put on, I think mine was an Oscar winner.
That stranger forced me to really look at myself, where I had been, where I was presently, and where I hoped to go. It forced me to determine who I was and how that was in sharp contrast to who I wanted to be. I took control that night after the tears and the stages of denial passed. My days became truly brighter and more purposeful. I am on a journey and have not yet reached my destination but, I am loving the route there. I accept my challenges and do not rule them as my terminal fate. And it is all thanks to the stranger with eyes that could see beyond what was in front of her.
Thank you and blessings,
It’s a funny thing
How your reality of
My reality is not
The reality of
Your good humor
And passive aggressive conversation
Sets my imagination
And then my
To higher heights
Than when first conceived
Birth of a stronger substance
Than the putty
That your doubt
Tried to create
Am not sure
Why your eyes
Hold lies and low expectations
When there has always been
A strong me,
A fierce competition
A determined sista
So, I’m an educator and I am proud of this but there is something tugging at me. It keeps nudging me and whispering how I will be known for education activism and my writing. I will be a renowned author and I keep hearing it in my head. Every time I look at the classifieds for a part time job to bring in extra income to pay the bills, I hear it. As I go from my day job, to my night job, to come home and help the kids and then attend online class, I hear it. And recently it started upping the ante. It is know stating very matter-of-factly that I should not take another part time job and more time away from the kids or pursue yet another masters degree, just write. The rest will work itself out. It’s almost supernatural like I am following this voice and not my common sense that screams bills, bills, bills. Yet I am happy to know the answer to my over-decade-old question ” who am I and what will I do?” I will write and people will read. Some will love what I have to say and some will not. I will hone my craft as time goes by and I will spend time with my kids and be happy and at peace. I am loving this newfound epiphany. Just write! And that is exactly what I will do. If there is something that you have been obsessing over or that has been haunting you, confront it. Maybe there are dozens of incomplete projects ( I know this situation personally). Take one out and complete it. Then go to the next. Live the life that you want NOW and stop waiting for a more ‘opportune time’. The time is NOW!
Today is the first day of #TeachersWrite which is a cohort of lovers of words that are getting together to nudge each other along on their writing journey’s. I was so excited for this day because I have been looking for a community of like-minded individuals (check out Kate Messner and Jo Knowles). I have been sitting on a couple of stories for a while now ( I will not even go into how awhile is). But, there is one that has been nudging me the hardest. It is always there in the back of my mind whispering to me phrases the main character (MC) would say. It pops up in social situations very randomly and I have to fidget around to get out one of my many notebooks to write something down that will be important to the story. The only problem is that I have let life get in the way and I have not sat down to keep writing past the first two chapters. Bits and pieces of other chapters are written but they are not fleshed out. The reader will not understand the true depth of the relationships between the characters. So, this summer along with obtaining photography for my poetry book, I will sit down and continue to write (if not complete) this YA work of fiction. Wish me luck!
So, I have been home for a little over 2 months and I have been writing for the Examiner and doing other little assignments along with taking care of a 2 month and eleven year old. It has been busy, busy, busy. My office is anywhere from the living room to the dining room. I may be surfing freelance opportunities while nursing the baby and waiting on hold to speak with a representative from one of my many bills to get them to extend my payment due date. This is the reality of the day in the life of a single writer mama.
My must-haves are my Vera Bradley agenda, red pen, black gel ink pen, pencil, notebook, calculator, fee chart, laptop, iPad, sticky notes, cell phone, house phone, folders, and assortment of paper clips and binder clips. Oh yeah and baby wipes, a few diapers, pacifier, and burp cloth.
My ideal office would have a door attached to it and I would have a nanny to assist me with childcare. I would have multiple items bought from The Container Store to help organize my countless files, notes, pens, pencils, and other office items. I would have a Mac desktop computer along with a wall calendar and a name plate as a constant reminder that I am a professional writer even though I am at home and don’t have countless published books out there. Inspiring art work would adorn my walls and my business cards would sit prominently on my mirrored desk. My awesome ergonomic fuchsia chair would keep me comfortable during my long hours of work and research. Is there anything that I am missing? Send a comment if there is something I should add.