Tania's Words

here is an empty shell- a resonant shadow- waiting

Archive for January, 2015

I can’t juggle, much less metaphorical pens

I am capable of tripping even when I’m not moving. I once managed to upend a class of spiked cider (I wasn’t even drinking it, so I can’t use that alcohol as excuse), on my neighbors dog without actually moving a muscle. I’m clumsy, and that translates to a lot of my life.

I’m not lazy by any means. But I tend to want to do All The Things, and then Things get dropped. I might be blessed with a unique mind that zips around in an unusual manner, but it challenges me as well (sigh, and you as well, if you know me, but I’m pretty loveable so we’ll call it all okay).

I’m not being self- deprecating here, I don’t think. I am who I am, and like most people the sum of my parts can result in amazing things. A few missteps are small price to pay for the cool shit I get to give the world too.

Recently, I’ve been presented with lots of fun opportunities to write in various capacities. I’ve wanted to be a writer my whole life. At some point in my life I did discover that there is no secret “you’re really a writer now” club, complete with a membership card that would usher me in and make me the real deal. After a brief moment of mourning, in which my broken 13 year old heart wrote an appropriately funeral themed poem mourning the loss of a dream, I rallied. Calling myself a writer would require a level of confidence, chutzpah and maybe flat out fibbing, but it’s the only thing I’ve known deep inside that I’m meant to be. Yes, it’s taken a few years to get myself to a place where I can think “I’m a writer” and only feel like I’m 25% fraud. Progress!

Regardless of what they do or don’t call themselves, writers write. Hence: writing opportunities presented to me = writing opportunities I feel I must take.

Well right now I have a lot of things I’ve tossed up in the air — those pens — and am dashing around a bit when I can between trying to raise a 6yo, a 3-teen, and go to school (while navigating this back injury). Not only am I concerned I might injure myself or you with this clumsy metaphor, but that I’m due to drop a pen or two in the process.

But my brain was in no way designed to go slowly. I’ve tried slowing it down, it’s awful, and it’s not me. So, there’s this. There’s the contributions to the Detroit Moms Blog I am working on, and pulling together creative endeavors for submission as well.

I have been making some great blogging friends recently, so if you’re feeling bloggy, check out the blog roll I have going. My twitter is still kind of dead because I can’t remember that password, but maybe I’ll add another thing to this stack of things to manage. I am just sitting here anxiously refreshing my email to see if I got accepted to grad school.

I….’ve lost my train of thought. It was cool, I had a plan that was going to tie this blog post up neatly. I guess all I’ve done is prove that I can’t juggle. But I still made progress. I’d rather congratulate myself on that than allow myself to feel bad about my own limitations.

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It’s raining lemons!

As that hectic shiny newness of the New Year glamour begins to ease into the day-to -ay of 2015, it’s time for me to evaluate where I am, and maybe figure out how to decompress from an incredibly stressful December and an inauspicious start to the year.

Hint: Don’t injure your back the day before New Year holiday insanity starts. It’s just awful.

I’m home after a crazy weird night in the hospital, after a painful and frustrating week without answers mostly spend on the floor trying not to cry. I came home with a plan for wellness, a diagnosis (which is helpful, ya know, for treatment!), and a delayed resolution, since I was too distracted on New Years to resolve more than “don’t cry right now”.

I actually don’t do resolutions — at least not in the traditional sense. I’ve always felt like New Years is really just a day like any other. That change and promises start in our hearts, and that any moment in our lives is the best moment for them. But the New Year does signify a marker, a setting off point for so many, so I get it.

Mostly, it’s a day for me to consciously check in. Have I been the person I want to be the last year? This for me is a time to look inside, say, “hey self, you did your best, you’re doing your best.” A time to remember that I’m a constantly working, loving, flawed person trying their very hardest.

Sometimes you just need a little self love with a reminder that you are a work in progress, and that you have present and diligent in order to work for that progress. It’s so easy to slip, and to forget, and to get caught up in the day to day. It can be months before something in my life trips me long enough for me to sit down, evaluate my life and my actions and bring back into focus the ideals of who I want to be and how I want to live and love.

I feel like the last month and a bit was an exercise in dodging lemons being hurtled at me from somewhere (fruity clouds? the universe?). Well, now that I can walk around a bit more, and that I hope the weeks ahead hold some more calm, I’m ready. I’m so ready to pull myself out of this anxious, negative whirlwind and attitude and refocus.

I’ve got a large pitcher, I’ve got a fruit masher, I’ve got some sugar…time to make some lemonade!