The universe keeps nudging me to get out of bed an write. Good ol’ universe. I can always count on her. ;)
Often I can ignore her. I have excelled at that this last year but today she is kicking me in the butt. Moving from my daughter’s bed into my own I hear a beep come through the baby monitor. Whenever our monitors pick up sound it also goes staticky. So I lay there for a bit wondering what is going on. The monitor is plugged in so it isn’t its battery. After hearing this a couple of times I begin to feel that something is wrong with the baby. Perhaps she is moving and creating a sound and the monitor is beeping … That doesn’t make sense.
I get up out of bed and step into the hall, slowly pulling my door handle towards me so I can close the door quietly. As I stand there I hear the beep. A sharp piercing sound. The smoke detector battery alarm. I move quickly to the kitchen, grab a chair and pull that thing down.
As I put the smoke detector on the counter and the chair back in its place I realize I am awake. The first thought that pops into my mind is that I should write. Immediately my mind does a check-in looking for excuses… hmmm am I tired? I don’t feel tired. I should go back to bed. It is early. No, it is 7-ish.What other excuses can I find?! Before I allow my mind to find one I grab my notebook and pen and sit down. And this little diddly is what I wrote.
I do sense a metaphor in the smoke alarm battery needing to be renewed, if I can call it that for the sake of my metaphor. As the time has been passing since my last post there have been stories brewing in my mind. The last few days I have been feeling anxious, expired, about ready to explode, exhausted, … irritable. My warning bells have been going off as well.
So Miss. Universe, I have heard your call. I thank you for releasing some of the pressure. Please come again soon. Don’t give up on me.
In the fall of 2012 I was delightfully happy. Joy. That is what I felt. It was throughout my entire being. My cells even danced in my body. Despite this joy, writing was a struggle. It was my challenge to balance it with homelife. I found myself feeling guilty that I wanted my kids to be gone so I could work yet I saw myself as a homemaker. How could I want to be home with them yet wish them to be gone?
It seemed as though I had to choose. I chose my family, focused on homeschooling, and stopped writing. Every once in a while I would lift my head out of the sand and do a blog post or journal but my pen would go into the drawer and I would get back to business. Homelife business.
My thoughts of writing increased as I became pregnant. To me my little one was telling me to get to business even from the womb. Write. I did not. Not on any regular basis anyway. Not in anyway that seemed significant to me. Now she is here and the pressure to write is even stronger. Yet I hide and avoid the pen. What is up?
I think I have to deal with my choice-making back in 2012. I have to deal with why I choose to leave writing. One of my quests has been to balance work and home. With writing home life is better. I am a better mom. A better wife. A better person. Yet, it seems as though I really need to fight for my time to write and it became too much. Without it I am not my best. I also need to battle with myself to actually sit down. My thoughts allow me to do everything but write.
Food has become too much of a crutch. I am 20 lbs over weight. My whole body hurts. Foods bother me like they never have before. I am tired all the time. Never excited for life. Honestly, I think I am burning out. Much of what is going on right now is very similar to what I went through in 2010.
Now, I must write. The battle of my thoughts must begin. I need to plant new thoughts that will lead me to writing. I need to return to my life of awareness and mindfulness. I need to return to yoga, meditation, cooking … finding a family rhythm. I need to uncover and demyth all the stories I have told myself about writing. It isn’t a competion or a choice to be made. I can have both. I have to have writing.
Recently a used book store contacted me to tell me that a Rudolf Steiner book came in. I am on a waiting list for any of his books. I am mostly interested in his views on education, child development and spiritual development although much of the latter is above my level of comprehension. The book that came in was called The Presence of the Dead on the Spiritual Path. Wow! What a title right! So I got the book despite its level of intensity.
I read Chapter One in kind of a blur. It is good but I went at it with the intention for it to distract me or fill a void not to actually take in its content. It wasn’t perfectly clear to me then but now I see what I did. There was a gap before I started Chapter Two. Life got busy and I couldn’t pick it up I guess. The other day a thought popped into my head “Why this book?”. Why did this book come to me instead of all the others that I have wanted for a long time. The ones that have been on my amazon wish list or my goodreads “want to read” category. Why this one. Perhaps I got more from Chapter One than I thought? Could this be a sign?
So I start reading Chapter Two and what I discover is inspiration to write. He describes what I have been feeling unconsciously when I write. He talks about how spiritual forces enter through us when we perform any act and we act with those forces. They embody our work.
Doesn’t this make our work feel more important. Like we are supposed to do what we are supposed to do? When I get an erge or inspiration to write something that is the spiritual forces working through us and that we really really really should act on it.
When I get a feeling to walk a certain direction or to not do something as planned that perhaps I should not do it. The spiritual forces are guiding me?
Now I can understand if many people out there find this hog-wash. Perhaps they, you, have never experienced something spiritual. I have so I feel what he is saying quite easily. Steiner addresses this issue in Chapter Two as well. That unless you have had a spiritual experience or think in this way there is no convincing you. I don’t intend to try. I will simply keep on reading.
My first thought when I asked if this book came to me as a sign was in naming our baby. For some reason I am hell bound on her having a name from my mothers maternal side. I feel as though that side of the family has a unique energy and that energy is in this baby girl. My husband thinks I am nuts and that is okay. When this book dropped into my world I thought maybe it was shedding some light into why I feel this way. Maybe Chapter Three: The Presence of the Dead in Our Life or Chapter Four: The Blessing of the Dead will shed some light on that. What intense titles hey? Steiner is very specific on his wording. Words are very important to him.
What is even more special about this situation is that I had been asking for a Steiner book from the used book store. I had put my name on the list a year ago and lately I had been thinking that I may never hear from them or it will be a long time. Then POOF! they called. Ask and you shall receive.
Photo curtesy of Sunstone Creations
In my second spiritual therapy appointment in February the strangest thing happened again. She knew something that she would have no way of knowing. Her bringing awarness of it, bringing it to the surface has really forced me to deal with it and then all this other stuff, rubbage from the bottom of the ocean, comes floating up too. So much crap!
My appointment was to work on dealing with my communication problems with my husband. There is a lot of tension between us because we see the world differently. Because I feel he won’t approve of what I feel needs to be done I prevent myself from doing it. Then I stay stuck and more anger errupts. No matter. What happened didn’t actually have to do with him at all.
While I was laying there and she was doing her energy work on me regarding my husband she was small chatting with me about what she was doing. Nothing important. What she said though made me think that I have very similar communication problems with a lady I work with as I do with my husband. My mind drifted into a story about something that had happened recently between her and I. I imagine my body must have been reacting to the memory. Just then she says, “I sense a female in your life that you are struggling with as well to communicate with? Perhaps someone involved with your Waldorf venture?”
Astonished I said “Yes, I was just thinking about her.” I wanted to ask her how she knew but I already know that. She was speaking with my guides. Now, I would normally be hesitant about all this stuff – guides and angels. I like to believe that I am open to a lot of stuff but I know I am a skeptic. But she can know things that there is no way of her knowing. Like this. We had been talking about my marriage and my passions. I did not bring up this. Not at all. I didn’t even feel it was all that important. It was something I was covering up. Not dealing with. This spiritual healer is for real.
She does some work on the energy but now that she has brought it up I am thinking about it. Dwelling on it. A few days later at work we have a meeting and this lady and I are divided on an issue. This division leads me to feeling doubt and anxiousness. She has a dominant personality and I am frustrated that I have to struggle with her. Not that it is a struggle exactly. Not between her and I as much as it is between two forces within me when I am around her. One that wants to cower and another that wants to stand strong.
This tension in me has been there for a month until finally I decide to write about it. Well not exactly about it. I wrote something else that will be the next blog post. This one snuck up on me just now while I was editing the other one. Has that ever happened to you?
As soon as I wrote in my journal as if I was writing to you, whoever you are, it all let go. Well, almost. First I had to get physically ill. The tension built up in me so much that my nerves and digest system could not handle it. Now, a release. We were together yesterday and things seem more normal. I feel stronger. Better. But when I think back to how much I thought about her I know I created something that didn’t need to be created. The story became so real and dramatic that I made myself ill.
My will is stronger now for this whole process. What was the process… that is my next blog post. I will get back to editing it. :)
Well, after my post yesterday I went to work on finding a place to write in my office. My desk had become a dumping ground for my stuff. After that I worked on plot. Sunlight has been written for three years this month but it has not felt right. Using Martha Anderson’s The Plot Whisper book as my guide I now see that some of my chapters that I have used as summary and flashbacks now need to move to the front to build the plot. Plus, some of them need to be rewritten with conversation.
Still no writing though.
Every sun casts a shadow, and genius’s shadow is Resistance. As powerful as is our soul’s call to realization, so potent are the forces of Resistance arrayed against it.
The War of Art by Steven Pressfield