I always arrive here at the end of the day. Good time to sum up everything but I want to lounge and vegetate. I want to curl up with my glass of wine. Supper is still in the making so I’ll wait. Maybe a cuppa decaf can coax the words from me. The bottom of my day/jar literally fell out in the morning. There I was, standing in the kitchen, holding a jar of soup while the bottom clang to the floor. Good thing the soup was still frozen. Otherwise, what a mess!
It wasn’t indicative of how everything went. I had a pretty good day after the bottom fell out. I am still on track reading Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself. I’m applying what I’ve learned. I’m trying to stop waking up to the same day over and over like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. That would be a daymare. My yesterday was not so good. I felt tired and down. I didn’t want the same so I visualize myself as I want to be – energetic and up. I went into the phone booth of my mind and put on my Wonder Woman costume. And voilà!
I packed my gym bag with my swim paraphernalia so I was ready to go at the appointed time. No excuse to skip since I couldn’t find this or that. Next I headed downstairs and transplanted the rest of the tomato seedlings. It was not an earth shattering exciting day. All the same it was very satisfying to me, not having the fatigue. I will remember to be kinder to myself when I am tired. The natural progression from that is feeling down. There’s no need to punish myself more for feeling that way.
The day is done. I’ve had my swim and feeling the more relaxed and mellow for it. It pays to make an effort to go. The dog is walked, supper ate and wine consumed. The dishwasher is slushing away. All my little art projects done for the day – the red cardinal for 365 somethings 2018 and my painted cloth block . They’re on the sidebar under my Instagram if you care to look. Time to shut it down till tomorrow.
What I know for sure is there is no certainty. The world according to our plans does not exist. Faced with reality, there is no comfort in known adages the likes of: You are not getting older you’re getting better. You are not alone. You are beautiful just the way you are. Funny how time and circumstances can change my outlook. Once upon a time, I believed in those truths. Now…I am older wiser, and more vulnerable. I don’t believe in fairy tales anymore. Perhaps it is with the shift of the planet and the sun. I feel and smell the coming autumn. The sun comes up a bit later. Its slant and quality a little different.
I feel a little melancholy with the change. It is not a bad thing but somehow I do feel inadequate and apologetic that I do not put on a brave face and say regardless, the show must go on. To whom, I do not know. Yes, I would like to stand tall and be the Wonder Woman of my dreams. I want to pump that fist and give life that confident pump. But I do not have the bravado to fake it till I make it. I wonder if it is true. Maybe I CAN fake it – not to make it, but to become it. Life and our planet are shifting. Things are never the same. We stand on feet of clay in the sand. I am shifting. I am changed. Maybe I need to change my stories, too, along with my posture. I can learn to strut and punch like the Wonder Woman that I am. They say body language sends powerful messages about who we are. I want to pump it up a little. So what if I am faking it? Do you want to make something of it? Bring it on! I’m ready.
Once upon a time, not so long ago,I aspired to be Wonder Woman with her golden tiara, bracelets and lasso. I even doodled her on my iPhone app. I was going to make a poster of it and hang it in my office. It would inspire me to fly through the air, scale walls and rescue guys in distress. Have no fear, Wonder Woman is here! would be my chant.
That enchantment has faded and I have come to my senses. There are better models for me to emulate and they don’t look like Linda Carter. They’re more beautiful. They’re strong and real. They’re vulnerable with no protective suits. I am speaking of Anne Lamott, who wrote the little book on writing and life, Bird by Bird. She speaks of life in all its rawness and beauty. Her language is real and offers no apologies. I don’t know how many comments she received on her last post, but there was 53,000+ shares. She resonates with many besides me.
Am I gushing? I do love her. I learn to write in that one square inch of hers. That’s how you make a start. Write as far as you can see ahead of you. That is all. You will get there to the end. Our stories are important. My story is important – to me. My super power is to tell it, starting within the one inch frame, going to the end. This is for #aprillove2015. It’s not super but it is part of my story.
Some days are hard. Life is hard. Sometimes it takes a week before I can take the towels out of the dryer. The words don’t come. When they do, they are dryer than dry.
The sun came out today. I thought that would make me happy but it only made my glumness take hold. It was thick. It made it difficult to keep my eyes opened. My legs felt like cement pillars. But I did try to run with Sheba this morning.
It was not a total success. No surprise there, right? I wondered at the perfectly manicured green lawns along our route. Where did people find the energy? Why did they care? They were beautiful, these lush, thick emerald carpets. Even in my state of mind, I appreciated them.
We entered the park. The heaviness eased its burden, for how can it not – amidst God’s green acres. The beauty was too great and it fled, its dark tail between cement legs. I was freed to enjoy God’s creations, if only for moments.
No all days are equal. I know that for sure. Days like today will come again and I will weather it again. So the towels sit in the dryer for a few days. No harm done. My words will play hide and seek with me but they always come back. I need not be a hero and scale walls of tall buildings. I am only Wonder Woman and not Spider Man. I can use these boots and just walk around them. Life continues.
It rains still. How many days now? I have lost count. But Sheba and I are strong. Every morning we don our black rain gear and we walk our talk – neither rain nor sleet. Hush! I better keep my mouth shut. Even if it is the end of June, you just never know what the weather will do.
We’re not as glum as we look. It’s hard to do selfies and to get both of us in one shot. My arm isn’t long enough and the iPhone screen is not that big. This is the best I could do.
Last night I was sitting at my desk in front of the window. Sheba was at my feet. Thunder rumbled. A big bolt of lightning flashed and crackled right before me. I screamed. Sheba jumped up, barking. My window was opened. The neighbour yelled “SHUT UP.” The rain poured.
Such is the energy surrounding the home and hearth at times. I know what Shakespeare mean when he writes something stinks in the state of Denmark. But I am Wonder Woman, the warrior princess of the Amazon. I can ward off stagnant and malevolent energies with my magic bracelets. I can lasso the demons with my golden rope. So you are warned.
The rain continues to come down. I continue to venture forth into the Universe to feed myself, for no woman is an island unto herself. She cannot be nurtured and grow without any outside forces. Within, she will dwindle and wither and become as insignificant as she already feels.
The world is noisy and chaotic. But it is where we all want to be because the chaos and noise are just as bad inside ourselves. It is safer and more comfortable to experience it on the outside. I rather say it is because of ‘THEM” and it is “OUT THERE” than blame myself and that the fault lies within me. Wouldn’t you?
But I did find quiet corners within the maddening crowd. I was not quite an island but still felt safe enough. The chaos and noise were on my periphery. They worked as a shield to protect me from myself. I was insignificant and yet not diminutive. I still had power. I was Wonder Woman once.
I could be again. Where are my bracelets and lasso?
I am afraid today is another Day – waking up to the same grey and cool morning. No snow though, thank the lord for small – no big mercies. I’m starting to feel like Bill Murray. Desperation is nibbling on my edges. I cannot afford to let it all hang out.
I am hanging in/on or whatever. I’ll put on my Wonder Woman outfit and let it do the magic. Today I have my tiara AND my lasso. Look out! I have magic and power.
I can bite the bullet and do all those hard to do things that I’ve been putting off. What better time to do them than on a grey and cold day? I do not need to move mountains, only piles – and piles. I only have to move one of them at a time.
And at the end or in the middle, there’s those sweet buns I made yesterday and a cup of sweet spicy hot chocolate. I am feeling energized and ready to tackle anything . And Sheba is poised to help.
Someone must have pushed the replay button on the remote because we are getting the same scenario as yesterday. Yes, it is snowing again. I don’t know why but Richard Harris and strains of McArthur’s Park is playing in my head.
MacArthur’s Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don’t think that I can take it
‘Cause it took so long to bake it
And I’ll never have that recipe again, oh noooooo
I feel like that cake melting in the rain. Little inconsequential things are like torches under my skin. My icing is melting. I have to breathe to cool the flames. They are spluttering in the wind and rain. Ahhh! They are out and I am saved. I have found the recipe. Wonder Woman faces another day.
I slept in on this 22nd day of April. It felt great just to let go and luxuriate in the warmth of my bed. Sheba felt the same in her own bed.
There is no need to be Wonder Woman 24/7. Missions and disasters can wait. Others will have to rescue themselves. Our office is closed today. We are resting and recuperating. We have to fix our energy leaks.
Still, we got up, dressed up and have shown up – all in good time.
We are not behind. We are exactly where we should be. The turkey soup is back simmering on the stove. The dishes are washed and put away. We have walked on the sunny side of streets, rejoicing in the coming of spring. Surely this time I must be right.