Unexpected recognition from a classy and insightful blogger has sparked a fire of motivation in what started only as a mess of thoughts that looked to be going nowhere.
Thank you Swiss-Ami-Mum from The Starting End for nominating/awarding me the Versatile Blogger Award.
The blogging world has helped me to find a calm in writing pieces that best reflects my neurosis. Having others interpret those pieces however they see fit and appreciating those words for what they are to them, is just a bonus. I write for myself, for peace of mind, but find myself smiling when the “Like” button gets a click. It tells me that someone out there is thinking “Yeah, I know what you mean”.
7 facts about myself…I will probably learn something about myself during this.
1. I’m afraid of the dark. Always have been and don’t see it changing anytime soon.
2. I believe in Mermaids as much as the Catholics believe in God.
3. I am Married to a perfect human being who I will happily gloat about in public. He deserves it.
4. My Mum inspires me to keep writing when I tell myself it is a wasted attempt at a talent.
5. I love watching Walt Disney Classics.
6. I lived and worked in Thailand for 1 year. It was amazing.
7. I live in a rural Mining town in Western Australia
Please check out the following Bloggers/Writers that I enjoy and see where it takes you.
The wine Wankers
Hot Mess Mom
Tiny Owl Workshop
The Starting End
If, like me, you have no idea what the Versatile Blogger Award is then please follow the link below for more information.
Versatile Blogger Award
I have no picture to give my words shape. They shape themselves. Words are the kaleidoscope of my mind. My words are the paint that illustrates your interpretation. Let my words create their own shape in your mind. Let the words be to you what they are. Do not mould them, shake them, twist them or delete them. The words are already there; Embrace them and they will guide you through your subconscious.
It’s a far better place there.
The day is almost done. Dinner is prepared and ready for serving at a moments notice. Kitchen wiped down and ready to be messed which of course it will be once dinner is complete. I look around and mentally give myself a little pat on the back; the house is clean and has stayed that way for many days now. What’s left to do? My list of things to do was complete when I marked off the one and only task, clean house. I rack my brain for some neurosis, but draw a blank. Suddenly I hear my mothers voice from a previous conversation early on in the week. She asks, “Why do you need to be doing anything at all? Why can’t you just do nothing? This is your time off”. She is right.
Time off just seems such a waste if it’s not filled with something enjoyable and while sleeping in and not going to work is enjoyable, I feel empty. I miss the routine of a workday, the rush to get home and find time to work out or cook dinner. I miss my neurosis egging me on to move faster, think harder, be better all while knowing they can’t be achieved.
So I glance over at the box of wine that has been reduced from six bottles to two over the past few nights. They stand tall, acknowledging that they have been standing in the back of my mind all day while I’ve been trying to find an excuse to not have one.
I pour a glass, take a sip, close my eyes and ask myself, “Why didn’t I start the day off like this?”
What a funny little land this is. The beings walk and talk but make no sense at all. The beings look at each other and themselves and yet see not what is really there. How strange. It would appear they are all the same species and yet they act as if each is superior to another? Why don’t they greet each other as friends?
This land is not funny at all. This land is strange. I fear this land will not last if the beings continue to act as they do.
I want to live somewhere in between the third and fourth glass of wine. I want to wander around life with a simple smile that makes itself, relaxed shiny eyes and peaceful shoulders. That warm and happy place that melts over you when you are reaching for the bottle, pouring your third glass and acknowledging yet ignoring that soon the bottle will end. I like that place. I like knowing that it’s not my last glass, there is more. I like being wise enough to know that after four glasses, the feeling isn’t the same. There is no real feeling, there is just drunk. The playfulness between three and four is perhaps why they don’t make bottles big enough for five glasses.
She rolled her fingers around the rim of the wine glass and lost herself for a minute. Her giggle ended in a sigh. Only I noticed. Only I could see she was watching the conversation but listening to her own mind tick over. I touched her hand and stole her from herself for just a moment. I pressed my cheek to hers and whispered memories of how we use to walk around the school yard, arms linked talking about how we were obviously meant to be friends. We kept our eyes on the conversation in front of us, acting as though we were talking quietly about the subject at hand. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and hugged me, an urge that came upon her quickly, without notice.
In that moment, she was there, right there beside me. In that moment, she was ok.
I am never homesick. When I am away, I am home. When I am home, I am home. Whether I standalone or in a crowd I am home. Home is where my heart is. My heart beats in my chest and my chest rhymes with my feet as they walk the path that writes itself. My hands hold the chances I’ve not yet taken and my memories bask in the glory of the good times.
I press my cheek against the cold glass and feel the vibrations of the departing planes. I close my eyes and hear the chatter of the lives around me. I breathe quietly, I feel the tingle in my fingertips, my chest hovers with the intent of holding back the tears not yet cried and I finally know that where I am, in myself, is home.
I, am home.