My first post on this blog was January 1, 2012. Since then there has been a smatterings of posts here and there but I have decided to unpublish them all and start anew. Perhaps someday i will republish them, but for now they will remain hidden. I will also resist to the temptation to try and fill in the blanks of the past three years. That would be both boring, and laborious. Instead, some of those blanks may fill in naturally as I write from here on out. (starting with this one)
Last year I joined the Cache Valley Chapter of the Utah League of Writers. I wanted a more formal structure for writing and hoped this would provide that. It did, but it also provided a lot of intimidation and so my attendance was sporadic, even when my friend Shauna joined with me. A month ago I renewed my commitment to go and so far I have shared the following, as of yet, untitled poem:
Untitled
A lone willow embedded firmly on the
bank
She longs
to uproot herself and leap into the passing waters
Day,
after day, after day, after day, in solitary mediation
Secure in
the comfort and safety among her fellow foliage
An endless
network of deeply settled roots
Unyielding, Unrelenting, Unforgiving
Yet…
The
rippling of the river, ever flowing, full of life does not escape her notice
Its
gentle rhythmic flow beckoning to come and join the joyous journey
To ride the
ripples to a far off place
Experience
a new way of life
See the
unknown
Feel
alive
Live
Freed
from the riverbed, her home, her safety, security, a prison
The river
promises a love she can never receive in her solitary, sedentary, spot in the
sun
A love
she dare only whisper to the unworried wind
At times,
the river changes course, cutting further into the surrounding soil
She holds
back from letting go and sinking into its beckoning depths
Her
resistance? Fear alone.
Of
succumbing to promises and pleasures
Of succumbing
Fear
Alone
This was actually a revision of a poem I wrote in high school. Much of it has changed, but the basic bones and sentiment are the same. I received fairly good critiques on it and a couple of people in the group even suggested I enter it into the contest at the Annual League Conference this fall. I hadn't thought of entering in anything because I still feel fairly new, but I may consider it.
I also hope that by being more diligent about writing in my blog, I will keep writing more at the forefront of my thoughts every day, thus improving my skills, and increasing my enthusiasm.
And let's not forget... it may also stop mom from chastising me for not writing more so she has something to read when she uses the computer at the library....
Sunday, March 22, 2015
Sunday, January 1, 2012
January 1 - Day 1 - Stop being afraid, and musings about ladybugs...
Last Christmas, (December 2010) my mother gave me the best present ever, a journal. Now, this was no ordinary journal. On the first two pages my mother wrote a note specifically for me. I cannot, nor would I want to share all of this special message but here are a few important excerpts:
"Dear Brandy,
She was absolutely right! My life IS different because she WAS and IS an important part of it! I have always been afraid of not making my parents proud, specifically my mother. She was married young and had a lot of children young and so she never really had the opportunity to explore the world and what might have been. Because I am nearly 39 and single, and because I feel like I have not accomplished much of importance in those years, I always fear that I have let her down in some way... because I have not fully taken advantage of the opportunities I have been given. To read that she is proud of me means more than anyone could possibly imagine...
She was also right when she talked about me being afraid of doing some of what I really want in life. I don't know that I could specifically pinpoint why I have been afraid, or sometimes even what I have been afraid of... but I do know this... Although I have a wonderful life, with the most amazing family, and the best friends, and a great job that meets my basic needs... something is missing. I could and should be doing more, not only in making myself happy by following my true dreams, but also in giving back to the world.
Not only did my mother write a beautiful note to me in the beginning of the journal, but she also hid little notes of encouragement throughout. Along with these notes she included countless stickers of little ladybugs. It wasn't until I talked to her later that I understood the significance of the stickers... Apparently in one of her favorite movies, "Under the Tuscan Sun", there was a scene in which a woman said, "When I was a little girl I used to spend hours looking for ladybugs. Finally I'd just give up and fall asleep on the grass. When I woke up, they were crawling all over me." My mother wanted me to understand this to mean that I needed to stop looking or rather daydreaming about how my life should be... and to just start living my life... and eventually the "ladybugs" would be "crawling all over me" too.
Maybe this doesn't make sense to many people, but it makes perfect sense to me... as does the significance of the gift of the journal in the first place. For as long as I can remember, my mother has encouraged me to write. She knew that from a very early age I was interested in writing and that I possessed some semblance of a talent in that area. She also knew that given these factors, I was also always afraid to actually write. My fears of course were ridiculous; "I am not a master at grammar", "I fear I have nothing interesting or valuable to say", "I use too many elipses"..... (grin)...All of these fears, though ridiculous, may in fact be true... BUT...should that really have stopped me all these years from at least trying to write more? The obvious answer is a resounding NO!... but unfortunately they did.
Well.. I don't know why today is any different. Certainly it is January 1st, and what better, if not cliched day is there to start anything... But I have had many January 1sts, and "I'll start Monday" days in my life... I don't know why today is different, but it is. I don't care if I continually fail at writing anything slightly interesting or good for that matter... all I care is that I stop being afraid.
"Dear Brandy,
A hundred years from now, it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove, but your world may be different because I was important in some part of your life....I am so proud of all you've accomplished in your life, and I know you are not finished. You have so much potential and I have no doubt there's more exciting things to come....Put all your energy and spirit into the activities you've been afraid of and avoiding, and believe in and act on your dreams.... Together we can stop dwelling on the things we're not and start dwelling on what we'll be."
She was absolutely right! My life IS different because she WAS and IS an important part of it! I have always been afraid of not making my parents proud, specifically my mother. She was married young and had a lot of children young and so she never really had the opportunity to explore the world and what might have been. Because I am nearly 39 and single, and because I feel like I have not accomplished much of importance in those years, I always fear that I have let her down in some way... because I have not fully taken advantage of the opportunities I have been given. To read that she is proud of me means more than anyone could possibly imagine...
She was also right when she talked about me being afraid of doing some of what I really want in life. I don't know that I could specifically pinpoint why I have been afraid, or sometimes even what I have been afraid of... but I do know this... Although I have a wonderful life, with the most amazing family, and the best friends, and a great job that meets my basic needs... something is missing. I could and should be doing more, not only in making myself happy by following my true dreams, but also in giving back to the world.
Not only did my mother write a beautiful note to me in the beginning of the journal, but she also hid little notes of encouragement throughout. Along with these notes she included countless stickers of little ladybugs. It wasn't until I talked to her later that I understood the significance of the stickers... Apparently in one of her favorite movies, "Under the Tuscan Sun", there was a scene in which a woman said, "When I was a little girl I used to spend hours looking for ladybugs. Finally I'd just give up and fall asleep on the grass. When I woke up, they were crawling all over me." My mother wanted me to understand this to mean that I needed to stop looking or rather daydreaming about how my life should be... and to just start living my life... and eventually the "ladybugs" would be "crawling all over me" too.
Maybe this doesn't make sense to many people, but it makes perfect sense to me... as does the significance of the gift of the journal in the first place. For as long as I can remember, my mother has encouraged me to write. She knew that from a very early age I was interested in writing and that I possessed some semblance of a talent in that area. She also knew that given these factors, I was also always afraid to actually write. My fears of course were ridiculous; "I am not a master at grammar", "I fear I have nothing interesting or valuable to say", "I use too many elipses"..... (grin)...All of these fears, though ridiculous, may in fact be true... BUT...should that really have stopped me all these years from at least trying to write more? The obvious answer is a resounding NO!... but unfortunately they did.
Well.. I don't know why today is any different. Certainly it is January 1st, and what better, if not cliched day is there to start anything... But I have had many January 1sts, and "I'll start Monday" days in my life... I don't know why today is different, but it is. I don't care if I continually fail at writing anything slightly interesting or good for that matter... all I care is that I stop being afraid.
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