writing

Trouble with the Orchids

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I am having trouble smelling the orchids today. Of course, it is Monday. This morning was not a bad as some have been lately. I don’t know what was different in my preparation for it. Sunday was good. Not exceptional. I slept okay, not great. But, somehow, the morning was better than I expected.

The day went fairly smoothly. I didn’t hit any big snags doing reports. I walked at Magnolia Ridge this evening. I saw five deer. They saw me and just watched me stroll by and then back by on the return. Supper was good.

The family is doing pretty well. Aunt and cousin still firmly in our daily prayers as they struggle with ongoing health issues. But, the rest of us are okay.

I had planned on writing about my son. He turned thirty this past Saturday. He is four thousand miles away working and playing. I miss him, but am so proud and thrilled he and his wife have this opportunity to live in paradise for a little while. I decided I was not brave enough to write about him. I might come undone if I delve too deeply remembering my sweet son. Oops…stop…even now my eyes sting.

Changing the subject quickly, I am once again sitting at my new desk typing. I also have continued to write the prescribed “morning pages” from Cameron’s work. I have too many things awaiting my attention. Too many courses of study pending. Not enough hours in the day. I have been saying that a lot lately. I don’t usually have this complaint. My biggest problem is prioritizing what to work on at any given moment.

Decision making is one of my weakest points. I even try to make certain rules to go by so I don’t have to struggle with such trivial things as deciding what to eat from a menu or what products to purchase for housekeeping.

Other things I simply put off deciding until the decision is made for me. Either the opportunity is lost or someone else decides and I go along. It is a trust issue. Not trusting my own choices. I feel I have made so many poor decisions in my life that I still feel the repercussions from I don’t want to take risks. Fear.  How I despise it.  Yet, it still stalks me.

But, the fear has to do with him, too. I don’t want to make poor decisions that adversely affect him. I try to avoid causing him chaos. I am not sure he would agree with that statement. I know he goes out of his way to tend to my difficulties. I so appreciate him for it. And yes, his patience has grown by leaps and bounds over these many years.

I suppose I do smell a faint whiff of fragrance after all. The orchids are sometimes lost in the tangle of my mind and I don’t see them or smell them. I have to stop and untangle my thoughts. Stop and talk to Him. Walk out in the fresh air. Fuss at myself some. Then, finally, sit down to the page. Whether here or in my journal to write it out.

I write almost every day. Sometimes, I seem to write all day. When I go too many days without writing, I can’t see the orchids. The dark tangle of my emotions overcomes me and I struggle to get through the hours. The words flowing onto the page are like the flood of tears from a grieving heart. They give relief and ease the spirit. Even when the thoughts and words, the days and occasions are happy, they can become tangled for me if I don’t write out the feelings.

I know when I am at my worst. My journal becomes a long to-do list. Listing, of course, being my great crutch to try to resolve chaos. I am almost without a list at this time. I know of a couple of short ones and then the long lists of books I want to read and songs I want on my iPod. Those don’t count. Like some of my pin boards don’t count when I feel the need to redirect my interests. Books and music are paramount for me. I don’t know if being without the lists is a good thing at the moment or if I am just in transition. Time will tell. Besides, Cameron’s book has homework assignments requiring lists! (Hmmm! Maybe that is part of the appeal!)

I need to do some untangling of my thoughts before bedtime. This is what my mind feels like sometimes:

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A Room of My Own

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Recently, we have worked on making a space for me to piddle. I needed a desk and storage space close at hand. I also needed a spot for a small book case.

This is a big house. But, I needed a spot that could be private and closed off when visitors come. I didn’t want to have to pick up a mess in the middle of a project when having company. I didn’t want to worry about supplies being where little hands could come to harm. I need our bedroom serene and our public rooms uncluttered. I need the guest room clear of messes. His work room is too full and too chaotic for me to share with him.

There is a large pantry, or utility room, as Mother called it. I call it the wash room. Washer, dryer, second icebox, upright deep freezer, small sink, a closet with deep shelves, a built in storage pantry. Lots of room for a desk, too. I now have a spot. I am enjoying the space very much.

I am surprised at my response. It was with some reluctance I decided to try out my idea. He has been nothing but supportive and helpful. He helped bring home and put together the desk I found at the second hand store. I am typing this sitting here at the desk. Listening to the rain outside. The lamp sitting up high providing soft light to work.

I also share this room with our puppy dog. He has not bothered anything in here. I did have to move his kennel bed out. I will store it in the shed in case of emergency. We retrained him to sleep on his blanket in a different spot in the wash room.

I don’t have all my things sorted and set up quite yet. I am taking my time and arranging as I go. I would also like to get my iPod loaded up with music and have a speaker hook up to listen. I need a no-tick clock, too. I have a digital clock to put in here. But it is on the back porch. So I need the no-tick clock for the back porch when I move the other one in here.

I am hopeful this new arrangement will lead to greater creative expression. Both with words and textiles. With paper or canvas and color, too. I have things to work on. Now, I have a place to work. Oh, no. That means I have fewer excuses.

I am working through a book about developing creative expression. I have worked the book previously. It was about five years ago. I have golden memories from the first time through it. I am expectantly hopeful to have an even better experience this time through.

For anyone interested, it is Finding Water by Julia Cameron. She is better known for The Artist’s Way. I have it also. Finding Water was better for me. Although I confess it has been a long time since I explored The Artist’s Way.

So many projects in my plans, so many books to read, so many things to study, so many words to write. I am trying to keep at it. Keep showing up. Do the work. Let go of outcomes. Let Him work out what He wants me to learn. Creating with the Creator, Himself, watching and encouraging. Awesome feeling. Even when it is just a simple stitch or a few paragraphs on a blog post. Even when it is just my old coloring book and chest of crayons. Maybe is it simply the quietness that allows me to hear His still small voice. “Here, child, have an orchid.”

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