Humming and hermits and big washes of color

by rosedeniz

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The inexplicable.

The things we do that we just can’t explain to other people. That are necessary. That happen on a gut level. And maybe they go counterclockwise to a thousand shoulds – I should do this to be on top of my game, to be successful, to lose weight, or just get it done and over with – but for some reason, we can’t. While the rest of the world reels onward in noise, we must carve out personal space, hang out in quiet, take good care of ourselves.

What is a writer if they can’t engage in quiet, focused ways? What good am I to the world if I am fractured?

I have been thinking about what I really need these days, because I haven’t been here here and here very much lately. The quieting has gone on since I started writing intensely, and since I made a deep commitment to healing – physically and emotionally.

My classroom attendance at online events is spotty, I sign up less eagerly for inbox updates, and god-forbid I actually tweet something these days. Yet, and yet. Something else is clicking into place. For the first time in my life, I dawdle. I let people do stuff for me – you know, like help. I skip stuff that makes me feel worn out, take naps, and go to bed earlier than I ever used to. I had this crazy idea over a year ago that maybe if I just got enough sleep, ate less dairy, meat, sugar, and flour (or none), quit coffee, and exercised more that I might – golly gee – feel better.

And you know what?

My body hums. {With something I did not realize was missing from my frenetic, stay-on-top-of-it-all-the-time lifestyle where my norms were chronic infections, inflammation, moodiness, and a slip-sliding anger and irritation issue.} My body hums with happiness.

What’s that, you say?

I know. I did not know what it felt like until I stopped feeding myself food and mind junk. It is like a spontaneous ripple inside. It is patience when I thought I had none. It is slow time, not fast time. It is realising – and this is a big one if you walk a shaky line with food issues – that there is more to food than a binary what makes me fat vs. what makes me skinny. There is healing and nurturing and good smells and the biggest surprise, no fear.

No fear of food.

Okay, I still have moments when I freak, but less. And when it happens, it passes. I can move on.

So forgive me for being stunned into a silent-on-the-outside phase as I process that big one.

Because what I need is more time with the people in my nest. I need happy babies, a happy husband, and a happy me. Think washes of color, not technicolor or monotone anymore. I need hours to pour over magazines and photos for the house we are building. Need structured time to write. Need unstructured time to make my kitchen smell good or linger in my pajamas or read snippets of things and then run back to unravel an idea that has been forming in the back of my mind while I TAKE A BREAK.

For the first time, gentleness with myself.

Boy, that was hard to say.

Coming to grips with being less visible is still a work-in-progress, though. Rough edges. Unfinished thoughts. What if one day when I finish my book, I’ll have these silent, dead online accounts and people will shake their head at the horror? What if  the clouds burp up big purple dinosaurs? What if I am not present enough? What if being absent from my own life has been getting in the way all this time? What if I need to incubate to write the best book I can possibly write? What if my success is being here right now, instead of some distant one day?

What if what I have right now is enough?

Let me take a sip of my heavenly Teavana Coconut Rooibos tea and think it over.

{Thank you Cigdem + Sandi for encouraging me to unravel these thoughts through Reset.Revive.Restart.}

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