Tattoo Art Fest (082/290) - 04-06Jul08, Paris ...

What else can I say? Keep on writing. Just keep swimming. Go Johnny go, go, go. Is there anything else? You go until you feel the momentum shift. The need changes. When the need is gone. Why? Why do you just keep going? Can you do anything else? If the desire is there, if the vision is filling your head, is there any other life for you?

I often wondered why I couldn’t be normal. Why was I not happy or content with just being an average person? Why did I feel the continual urge to move things? To shift things? I hated the fact that I wasn’t content with the house and the car and the children and the dog. I loved those things. I adored being a mom. I loved the feeling of family and nurturing involved with that. But it was always as if I had on the inside of me a pulsating need to change things.

I have a difficult time listening to the news. It’s hard to listen to the idiocy that people debate over. The whole Democrat versus Republican and throw in a dash of the Tea Party, with a splash of Independents on the side. It doesn’t matter what cloth you drape over it, it’s still all in shambles. They still are arguing over the same petty bridges and hills. So I walk away.

They won’t be changed. In the words of Hugh McLeod, Ignore Everybody. “Don’t try to stand out from the crowd. Avoid crowds altogether.” Gaping Void-Avoid Crowds Altogether 

There are times when the voices in my head tell me to just sit down. Why am I bothering? What am I trying to do?

Honestly, I’m not trying to do anything. I bother because, I can’t not bother. I have to. Once someone asked why I write. Without thinking it comes out so simply. I must. All of these thoughts and emotions are bubbling up inside of me and the only way to get any peace or calmness is to write them down. When I write it’s like the door opens and the herd of horses storm out of the barn all at once. I write down the main ideas and go back to fill in the middle, because I can’t stand the thought of not remembering something. When I’m with someone and I talk about these ideas I have, these emotions and thoughts, it’s difficult for me to express them with any sensible understanding. It comes out as gibberish. In my head it all sounds right. I know what I want to say, I just have trouble putting order to the words. At least with writing I can do that.

I still think how simple life would be if I were content with my place in life. But then if others were content with their “place” where would society be? No change happens by merely being content. When I was in high school and was running an eight mile fundraiser, my friend said I needed to learn how to pace myself. Surely they knew what they were talking about. So I believed them. I took their critique and tried to pace myself. And I remember it all the time. The funny thing is, it never works for me. It’s not my style. When I worked in the church and Christianity, a different friend said I needed to learn to pace myself again. That Jesus wanted us to walk along beside him hand in hand. Guess what? I believed that person also. And truly I tried. I cried out to God asking why I couldn’t be a better more thankful child of God? But you know what? God never told me to pace myself.

Did you ever go on a walk with children? They are either lagging behind picking flowers and playing with the lizards or running ahead to see what’s around the corner. Exuberance. Alive. Free.

Some people cannot stand that you're moving on...

If you have been around on Christmas morning with a couple of kids, you’ll know one thing for certain. There is excitement in the air, whether there are 20 packages under the tree or just a few. They can’t wait to open those presents. My brothers and I would beg my parents a week before Christmas, “Please, just one. Can we open just one now?”

Would you want it any other way? What if your kids were ho-hum about Christmas morning? “Later mom. I want to finish this cartoon first.” Not on your life. As adults we forget exuberance, because friends and experts tell us to pace ourselves. When was the last time you felt that alive? The thrill of a roller-coaster,  the mud between your toes, the wind blowing in your face, or the taste of ice cream all cold and sweet. Remember what it was like as five and excited about riding your bike or playing chase.

Do I want to be content? Do I want to pace myself? No! I want to burst out laughing at stupid jokes. I want to run as fast as I can. I want to stand on the bridge and feel the cold wind blow against my body pressing me backwards. I want to live. Sometimes my life’s full of the “just keep swimming” mantras. I’m okay with that.

A funny thing happened to me. I went to a different physician. My insurance had changed and my favorite doctor was not contracted with the new insurance. My new doctor seems fine, but she had her agenda and I had mine. I wanted to get in, get out, and get things scheduled that I needed scheduled. There are medical things that only a doctor can offer so I go through the routine that’s required. Her agenda was to instruct me on eating healthy. Eat 3 servings of dairy a day (I don’t eat dairy). Women are not getting enough calcium and vitamin D in their diet. When I commented on the lack of vitamin D being from working in the office and not going outside, she quickly countered. Sun exposure causes cancer and we need to shield ourselves by applying sunscreen and avoiding long exposure.  Somewhere in the lecture my mind shut off.

My diet is not approved by my doctor I guess. And as far as avoiding the sun, not likely to happen. I love the sun. I can’t live my life avoiding life, being super cautious and playing it safe. As I mentioned, I want to live. I want to feel the rain on my face and splash in mud puddles. I love to get lost in a book and forget to go to bed. Those are the moments of our lives. The exuberance of running ahead or lagging behind is what proves that we are human. We can delight. We can be sad. We can lose our temper. We are alive!

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3 thoughts on “Writing Like Mad

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