Life happens

When you have a blog, commit to it, and then a week or more goes by and you’ve neglected it, it can feel even harder to sit down and post.  After so much time, it feels like one must have something really truly important to say to warrant breaking the silence. Guess what?  I don’t.    The moral of the story might be don’t let so much time lapse like that again.  But I don’t think so.  As they say, Life happens, and so it is true.  In that time there’s been a lot of it.  Life, that is.

Some highlights:

1. Moving James’s crib out to baby Emma’s nursery-to-be spurred a bona-fide “boys room decorating spree” where furniture and other room appointments were moved around between the three boy’s rooms, repurposed, swapped.  Some walls were painted, a few new pieces ordered, an old severely stained carpet is awaiting its replacement.  Is it the lamest excuse that I haven’t been writing because I’ve been picking out paint colors?  I never wanted to be the woman who decorates her house, but between us, not only do I kind of enjoy it, my kids are at the age where they received it with such appreciation I found it especially gratifying.  The two older boys’ rooms went first.  When youngest, James, saw all this activity and the room transformations, he asked, When do I get my special room?  Awwwwww.  It felt good to go through things and take a discerning look at what they really use/don’t use and pass along things that another child might appreciate.  The whole exercise also felt like an important “moving up” ceremony for my little family. The baby’s room is now a little boy’s room, the little boy’s room is now a preteen’s room. You get the idea.

James's bigger boy room

2. I’ve been scurrying around making summer plans.  Every year, without fail, it sneaks up on me.  That and Christmas and birthdays, always here before I know it.  In my family, we all seem to have a jones-ing for a serious road trip.  (Cue this song). There will be some camp, lots of swimming, but the main event will be the five of us, in a car, many hours, many places.  (Call me crazy, but I’m really looking forward to this).  Details to follow.

3. I attended a one-day writing workshop with poet Dorianne Laux and fell in love with her.  Wonderful poet and gifted teacher.  A veritable academic and yet not afraid to use the “c” words when poetically necessary.  Which seems to be pretty often.  She introduced me to a few new poems and poets, got me writing (like for reals) with some fun (that’s right, fun) writing prompts.  She reminded me that writing can feel like playing.  A few kernels from the day:

  • Write for 15 minutes.  Everyone has 15 minutes.  Or read one poem.  How long does it take to read one poem?  And then you get to carry it with you all day.  Or for that matter, do something for 15 minutes that feeds your soul. Can you really say you don’t have 15 minutes?
  • William Stafford‘s suggestion, If it gets difficult to write, lower your expectations.  To write or do anything, really–letting go of expectations so you can move more easily through the world.
  • She ended with saying that she’s not afraid of aging or death because the way she sees it, she’s got her whole writing life ahead of her.  Which reminded me why I’m trying to worry less about things like the physical evidences of age and the inevitable marching of time and other things I have no control over.  I keep reminding myself that I’ve got bigger fish to fry.

I leave you with a Dorianne Laux poem, which is pretty much the story of my life these days.



Someone spoke to me last night,
told me the truth. Just a few words,
but I recognized it.
I knew I should make myself get up,
write it down, but it was late,
and I was exhausted from working
all day in the garden, moving rocks.
Now, I remember only the flavor —
not like food, sweet or sharp.
More like a fine powder, like dust.
And I wasn’t elated or frightened,
but simply rapt, aware.
That’s how it is sometimes —
God comes to your window,
all bright light and black wings,
and you’re just too tired to open it.

7 thoughts on “Life happens

  1. What a beautiful poem. I wasn’t familiar with her before – so, thank you for introducing me. And the rooms … gasp. So wonderful, so bittersweet. xox

  2. Thank God it’s not just me treading water these days! I was so happy to read your post this morning and remind myself that indeed life does happen…

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