myspokenheart

musings on life, love and laughter from my spoken heart to yours


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Sharing… our precious creative babies…

I must confess I have been seriously contemplating how far to go with sharing here on my blog.  Although I am quite an open individual, I am also quite contrarily very closed and private. A walking juxtaposition I fear. I am afraid of sharing. I am scared to reveal the inner workings of my mind.

I am afraid because perhaps what I wish to share is not what I think it is. Perhaps I am enamoured because I have birthed it, only to find my glorious beautiful swan is really just an ugly duckling. My eyes may be blind as parents’ eyes often are. Our children are always the most beautiful, the handsomest, the most intelligent, the kindest. It is hard to look at them clearly, to see them in direct light and criticize what we see. Head in the sand is so much easier.

This holds true for our creative expression as well. Those children birthed from the recesses of our minds. In some ways finding fault in these children can be harder. As our earthly blood children grow we learn to accept them as individuals who are learning and aging and becoming independent (hard as this step in life is, it does happen). And in some ways the opposite can also hold true for the things that are birthed out of our creative selves. Sometimes what we see reveals parts of ourselves that we wish to keep hidden. Sometimes those revelations are so bold and blinding. Yet often it is only ourselves who can see those things we wish to keep hidden, since others do not generally know our intimate selves so deeply.

See I write stories. OK that is not entirely true. I START stories. I sort of have a problem with being unorganized and scatter brained combined with a severe inability to follow through. I have started a few of these stories that I so love to write, stories that have the potential to become novellas/novels and yet haven’t become much more than a prologue or first chapter. It is not about procrastination or a lack of desire to finish. Really it isn’t.

Perhaps just like a child I am trying to hold on to it as long as I can, afraid to let it go? Perhaps…

It’s difficult you see, for when an idea happens… well that is exactly how it unfolds – It just happens. I just sit down and it pours from my finger tips into the keys, or through the pen, which ever it is at my disposal. I do not think about it. I do not sit down with the intent to write something, trying to decide how it will go. I do not plan. I just open myself up and write it down.  And then I hit the point of being done for that time, where what needed release is now out in the open and the words dry up. It is like the idea just withers up and drifts away. But I can feel it lingering on the edgings of memory and I know it’s there. I sense it. But I cannot quite recall it. I cannot quite reach it. Like a dream in the morning. I know I had it. I know it meant something but it eludes me.

You see it’s like the story is trapped deep inside of me and even though I have an idea how it should unfold I cannot seem to get this information down onto the paper. I write, I read and it’s all wrong. So I rewrite and I read and again it’s wrong. So I walk away… and I flounder in this strange place where the words are floating just below the surface. I know what they should be. But I can’t seem to get them onto the paper in the form that they were when they were perfect and illustrative and reflective floating there below that surface. Instead they are jerking, halting, a foreign language – the fluidity is gone. They become harsh and ugly and show a distorted reflection of what I had beheld in my minds eye.

I want to share these ‘stories’ with you and yet I can’t seem to bring myself too… I have been fighting with myself on this for a few months now. What if they are no good? Or what if they are genius and some-one else took my ideas and perfected them? (Oh but how can one perfect genius? I suppose they could bring it to completion…)

So now that I have piqued your interest… should I share my handful of prologues with you all? Or leave it like all the other things I have avoided sharing?

P.S. the DoodleArt is coming along nicely I should be sharing that soon enough. In the next few weeks.

P.P.S. My mic works well, but again I am not feeling as eager to share as I had thought I would be… Give me time… it will come.


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Unconditional love vs acting like a big gorilla…

In light of my post the other day – Do I sound like that? Really? – I have to say I did good this morning. One of my daughters has been pushing my buttons as of late. I know, she knows she is doing it too, which of course pushes my buttons…. sigh. What the reasoning behind it is, I have no idea. Why she would want to push me at every turn is beyond me. You know the old adage “you catch more flies with honey than vinegar” well she is testing out the vinegar. (why do we want to catch flies? I certainly know that I don’t – flies are gross and annoying…) What was my point here? OK let’s get back on track. She wants to have her cake and eat it too. (OK there’s another one… hhmmmm maybe I will have to do a post pondering some of these old expressions??? another day another time.) Anyways, so my kid wants all the privileges without any of the responsibility… sound familiar? She is lacking respect for me and my boundaries but gets all in my face when I say “heck no!” and normally I do that loudly and aggressively. Not this morning…

Acting like a big gorilla!

Acting like a big gorilla!

This morning I stopped myself, took some deep breathes, realized I did not want to start my day like that. I did not want to have a little black cloud floating above my head all day. I did not want to act like a big gorilla, all action and reaction, no thought and rationale. I want to give my kids unconditional love even in the face of lots of button pushing. It felt really good to keep it together and even though I need to have a talk with her today after work, I am feeling optimistic because I have decided I am not going to yell. I am going act with love, even if it kills me! (or her for that matter… which it just might!)

So recently I have come to realize some fairly obvious truths; truths that have somehow eluded me in the past. For instance respect is a two way street, you get what you put in. (I have always known this in respect to relationships, but somehow it’s easy not to apply it when dealing with kids/teenagers and to just expect them to respect you “because you said so!”) I have also found that anger and yelling only seem to breed more anger and yelling. And that when you hit the wall of frustration neither party is listening any more, but are rather trying to find relevant ammo. (sometimes irrelevant ammo, because when one is truly angry any ammo will do).

Love NEVER fails...

Love NEVER fails…

See I want my kids to be sure in knowing that they can come to me no matter what they are facing, and that I will treat the situation with as much love, and kindness as I can. Which means if I am flying off the handle every time they do something I don’t like, I am not fostering that ideal. My button pushing daughter is 15 years old, and even though I do not want her partying, drinking, experimenting with drugs or having sex (of course I don’t want that) I do want her to know that if she has done any of these things and screwed up big time and has found herself in trouble, she can come to me and I will not rip into her for making poor choices or for making mistakes. Which means if I am always losing it over the small stuff, there is no way she is going to come to me with the big stuff.

And that boils down to me having to change my patterns. Because it would break my heart if I found out that she was too afraid to come to me in a crisis. To me that would mean I had failed as her parent. My job is to guide her in the right direction and to be there to love and support her when she chooses to take a different route. To applaud her when those choices work out, and to hug her and just be there when they don’t.