Thinking too much...is there such a thing?

I hate it when I wake from a restless sleep with faint memories of my subconscious battling in my dreams.  All I ask is for my brain to rest when I rest.

This has been an ongoing life challenge.  I am a thinker, an over thinker they say.  What does that mean?  Does that mean I mull things around in my mind looking for answers? Yes.  Do I come up with creative solution?  Yes.  Sometimes though it is just the mulling that becomes all consuming, and that really just stifles creativity.  Action spurs creativity more than thinking.  What often keeps us (me) from action is the fear of failure or just not being able to see the whole outcome. Well to hell with that way of thinking.  Mistakes happen…some big and some small, but that also leads to new problem solving skills and sometimes humility that helps to make a different choice the next time around. Inaction is an ongoing mistake too.

I forgot to Write

Wake up and write...that is what it takes.

Seven months ago I posted I would write and then NOTHING! Was that post a moment of impulsive release, hoping if I wrote the confusion and enormity of the moment would pass? Yes!  Did writer's block follow? Yes! What was the block?  Fear of my voice. Lack of confidence, and even the creeping concern that if this blog is out there I am exposed. I was also writing for school and looking for work - excusable demands on my time.

So I woke and decided to write. 

I need to read more.  When I read I hear the voices of other writers and also their struggle to find their voice.  Sometimes it is magical when you come across a great piece of writing and hear every nuance of energy, thought, concern or description of the tiniest detail that colors the moment.  I need to read more Joan Didion. 

I awoke after a dream. I was around a group of artist - young adults and middle aged.  Some making art, some drinking and sleeping it off. I was also a waitress at a bar. I was a young adult and full of wonder in my dream.  The money was in piles at my station where I picked up my drinks. Then my mind shot to the next scene where I was showing young artist that these simple drawings and paintings could be construed as art. In my dream the work was not over thought. My hands were dirty in paint as I was trying to replicate an image I had drawn, with a woodcut, onto a new piece of handmade paper.  Strange that I was using this technique - I have never made woodcuts.  I do know a woman, who I immensely respect for her deep commitment to her artwork, and some of her work is done with woodcuts. I love the detail and jagged edges to the images. I woke feeling inspired. 

So, I woke and typed. 

Who, What, Where, When, Why and How?

I originally started this blog when thinking of my "Empty Nest" with the impending departure of my daughter off to college in the fall of 2008.  We were relishing in her accomplishments and I also feared the loss of her leaving and what would I be left with. Would I celebrate? Would I be paralyzed by time and the need to let go? Could it be a combination? I imagined myself being vulnerable and writing about my experience and that I would connect with others and possibly thrive at a new chapter in my life. Then I got side tracked with cancer that same year and this blog became more about that. Cancer was an experience and opportunity to grow from, but when it was over I found I am still the same me. So I wanted to start this project again. Who am I now as the consuming role of motherhood has changed? Who am I after facing a life threatening disease? What do I want the second half of my life to look like, feel like and be? Will I find disappointment? Will there be joyful celebration? How do I manage change?

For now what I have found, in the days of independence and in the adventure of returning to school is that I am as complex as many, and in someways much the women I was before Amelia came into my life. I carry my baggage of a lifetime and some of it is heavy, burdensome and old and some is new. So I've decided to write....write about co-parenting after separation and divorce, family both the immediate and afar, world issues, PTSD, ODC, compassion, forgiveness, ADD, poetry, art, psychology, community, friendship, communication, photography, Love, hate, anger, music, money, meditation, women's issues, men's issues, aging, being young and vulnerable, adolescents, the terrible twos and twenties, careers, economics, ambitions, dreams...and so much more.  

This will be my journey.

Dad's....

My dear friends father died this week.  My heart goes out to her.

Fathers are what?  They are…provider, loving husband or partner, devote, a friend, mentor, and hero. They are abandoning, abusive, critical, chronically unavailable, and liars. Most are a tapestry of these descriptions and then some.  Many, fortunately have the less scarring traits than others and some really live up to the mythic ideals…all are human beings.  It seems we rarely come to the realization of our parent’s humanness until they are gone.  If fortunate we finally forgive or celebrate, possibly both – because no matter their character and imprint on us, we would not have had this experience without them….they gave us life.

The tale of parent and child endures to the end no matter how we grow up.  Some of us need them less, later in life only to realize we lost so much by not needing them longer or sooner…others of us learnt not to need them and then never stopped needing them no matter how old we get. With each generation we give it our own new twist of the dialogue - lines to our own family plays.

And a woman held a babe to her bosom and said speak to us of children…

Your children are not your children; they are the sons and daughters of life’s longing for itself.    They come through you but not from you, and though they are with you they belong not to you…you are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth…let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness...Kahil Gibran

I am the daughter of my father as is my dear friend of her father – and both our fathers were the sons of their mothers and fathers and their mothers and fathers – as will be our own children.  Sometimes the bow is stable and the arrow flies…sometime the bow is weak and the arrow still flies, and sometimes the bow is weak and the arrow drops, or sometime the bow is steady and the arrow still cannot fly…but life keeps on going.  Hopefully no matter the journey we learn a bit of reverence, a lot of humor and love.

Love to you Stac

Jen 

Good and Giving Can Prevail....

To volunteer or not to volunteer - that is the question? Is it really a question? Or is it a seduction, a transformation of spirit, like the firefighter who answers the call to a brotherhood? What inspires us to get out and give without the financial reward we so often expect of work? What keeps us going back in spite of politics and controversy we might face with our friends and neighbors? I believe some of us by nature are problem solvers as we are driven to community project after community project. Sometimes, we take to our community because our own lot feels too heavy a burden and the distraction of giving – finding direction and importance in life, relieves us from our own struggles. Sometimes we are encouraged by others.

After the election of President Obama, and the grassroots ground swell and momentum of his campaign, a renewal of volunteer efforts went across the nation (see the upcoming conference on volunteering and service). From sea to shinning sea the commitment of volunteering and community organizing has risen. Maybe unemployment aids the statistics with million of Americans out of work and in need of something to keep them busy. Some question does this new army of volunteers replace what should be a job market? Others are throwing whole industries behind slogans of community action. From October 19^th – October 25^th the Entertainment Industry Foundation teamed up with every major network delivering PSAs, and not so subtle programming on the glories of giving (see iParticipate.org).

When volunteering, in spite of the agendas and the conflicts that may arise, and believe me the politics of volunteer work is often as steep a hill and minefield to navigate as any day job, mountains can often get moved. When private enterprise finds the challenges too trifling to address or politicians have not yet been able to string together purpose and benefit to themselves around a community obstacle peoples' passions can create change of biblical proportions. Volunteers get the job done and communities are changed. New services or even policy are developed that leave our lives unrecognizable, and more often than not in a better position than we originally found ourselves
.

I have had the good fortune to work on a number of volunteer initiatives over the years, and although when tired and exhausted I asked "For what am I doing this?", I am reminded of the “For what?” when least expected.

My daughter, who is in her second year of college, and to our great surprise, (you can’t even imagine the tirades of “I will never get involved in my community” quipped by after endless hours of forced attendance to volunteer service alongside mom) informed us that she is the co-president of her Habitat for Humanity campus chapter, is working with her soccer team to raise funds for a training in Brazil, and is a campus representative for Toms Shoes. In case you don’t know Toms Shoes One for One campaign puts a pair of Toms on a needy child’s feet every time you, or I buy a pair.

So as her first fundraiser for Habitat for Humanity came to a close last night, which raised over $2,000 at the production of the Mr. Hobart Talent Show, she called and I asked her how did it go? "Amazing" was her reply…."just amazing to know we were able to do so much!"  I heard her breath let go, and knew she felt proud that she and all her colleagues had brought their community together for something greater than themselves, and that is the “For what?”.

Happy holidays, to all those who are in need of service, and those who give....

Jen