It’s our first full day on the train and what can I say but that its an adventure already. We are all so exiting and all talk at once about how great it is when we get together. I love my little bunk and I spend at least an hour a day just contemplating the view outside my little window. It’s absolutely gorgeous here and I wish I could have brought you along. We made a stop at Khabarovsk station today and got to look around a little.The station is huge! There were people smoking like crazy the smoke smelled diffrent and I kind of wanted to try it but I didn’t. Aicia was dying to smoke too, she is not one to be teased with nicotene. At the end she decided against it. I think if she had given in I would have too, once you’ve been a smoker all of the familiar feelings come back when you smell one. Anyhow, I have to get to the business of writing now but I will send you pics. Love you!
This trip so far has taught me to devote time to what’s important which for me in this case is self discovery. Solitude has surprised me. How much I enjoy just asking myself questions and answering them without all of the noise that might surround me on a regular day. I have learned that when I devote time to me and to my writing we both become richer and more full of life. We develop like an old polaroid picture, a little clearer and brighter. The clouds of the imagination part and we see the sun shinning a light on what it is we really need or want to say.
What is itthat makes me creative and gives me the ability to create?
That will be my focus today. I’m ready. Not nervous, just ready.
I have been a mother for what seem like most of my life. My three, now grown children were the essence of what I did and where I went for now twenty seven years of my life and I would not trade it for the world. Seeing them grow has been my privilege and blessing. Being a parent gives you a new perspective on life and all its trials give you strength you never thought you might possess. Still life comes with changes and my greatest change has arrived, an empty nest! That trial that all mothers and fathers eventually go through after spending half their lives raising children. It isn’t easy trust me I’m sure there are many parent out there that have no idea what to do with themselves after their children have gone.
I was one of those parents. I was stuck in the role of being a mom and being there for my children was all I did. That’s what moms do and we don’t regret it one bit. I am very proud of all of my children and I am honored to have devoted my time to them, that’s why I had them. Still the time has come for me to write a better story for myself. It’s time to dream of a future of my own. There are still many blessings to look forward to. You, We still have a life to live. one that hopefully has many years left. As a woman I find we need a sisterhood of women to help us do this. A place to develop all the other talents we may have hidden or placed on the back burner to attend our loved ones. A group of like minded individuals to push us forward in our new adventure. We need mentors and a process by which to navigate and go to our destiny. This is your time!
What’s your story? What do you want for you? What is your dream?
Now, Go. Find it. Do it. Be it! I am with you.
Lately I have been reading a lot about getting myself and my writing together, specifically my life and my blog. Both seem to be at a standstill lately. For some reason after the loss of my job I can’t seem to get it together. I love to write and get my thoughts across so I never understand why I slack off or procrastinate about doing the things I actually love. I love poetry and I so enjoy writing it. As for regular writing such as this blog, I really enjoy that too. I mean I have a few hobbies I am completely obsessed with like my art journal, my happy planning and my regular journal writing so I never get it when I begin to ebb with the things I love to do so much. I am still trying to figure it out mostly because I don’t realize I’m sabotaging myself until it’s well under way. It’s like a slithering snake this procrastination thing.
You know when you’re working all the time and curse the fact that you never have enough time to do what you really love to do?
Well, when I was working I was always frustrated about that fact. I always told myself that if I ever had the time I would write and journal all day. I would spend my whole day being creative. What baloney. I have been jobless for close to two months and I can’t seem to motivate myself to do any of what I always bitched about before. I sit tired from doing nothing yet unable to build the enthusiasm to do what I always spoke of. I wonder if I have some form of delay maybe it’s the “maybe later” disease that everyone acquires when they believe they now have all the time in the world. I’ve heard of people becoming depressed over life circumstances and not even knowing it or feeling what are regarded as symptoms of it. I don’t know really. I do know that I am certainly not where I would like to be in my life now. I also know I have to find my way out and into action all by myself. No one can fix you. As Buddha teaches: You must be your own salvation.
I am beginning with this blog and by writing lists of no more than five things to do at a time as to not overwhelm the senses. I figure this way the necessity to procrastinate will perhaps slightly diminish. I am hoping so anyways. I am putting my money on slow and steady. After all isn’t that what they say wins the race?
Hello my fellow bloggers. I am here to invite you to my new poetry blog http:// poeticallybloo.wordpress.com I know some of you used to follow my last poetry blog which I decided to close down due to expenses I could not afford at the moment and I hope you will come to partake of my poetry here. I will most definitely follow your page with my new blog in return. Thank you in advance for your continued support.
I had to sit with myself today and really think about this. I usually pride myself on being focused and learning from my mistakes or just learning from daily circumstances that visit all our lives. I will admit that this question, although I know the answer has me scared to answer it because I know I have to be honest with myself. So.
What is a lesson I seem to be learning time and time again?
The lesson I seem to be re-learning often is to trust. I will admit it is hard, very hard for me to let go and trust. I find that for some of us, when we have suffered much trauma or drama whichever it may be that trust is the last thing we are willing to give. It’s quite difficult when you have fully trusted and been disappointed time and time again to voluntarily give the benefit of the doubt. Still I have learned that there are some worth taking a chance on. There are some people out there not looking to deliberately hurt me.
Yes, you’ve been hurt.
Yes, you’ve been lied to.
We have all been through and under it but isn’t it better to keep trying? Isn’t it better to open your heart and perhaps trust someone new. I’m by no means saying hey! let’s all be gullible, just to be a little more open than you were yesterday. I am a work in progress and I can’t say that I don’t have a long way to go cause I do. I am here though.
I am open and I am trying.
I was sitting in the living room with my very intelligent daughter when she asked me this brilliant question. Sometimes I look at her and I’m so proud of the young lady she’s becoming and also proud that I’ve had something to do with it.
After the initial shock off the question I decided to give it some serious thought. Would I want to know how my whole life is to be played out right there in black and white? Facts on paper. Life and death and how?
My answer I would have to say is no.
I would not want to read about my whole life on paper before I have had a chance to live it. I would not want to know when i would be getting sick or how or when I would draw my last breath. I also would not want to know when or if I would lose a loved one. If dialysis has taught me anything it’s to love and live in the now. Nothing is guaranteed. No day is promised.
Can you imagine the kind of stress you would be under just knowing and waiting for the tragedies that might befall you? I mean I’m certain there would be enormous joys as well in your life but isn’t the greatest joy in the surprise of it all? What is the sense of living if you know everything coming your way? Still, it’s quite a poignant question so…
I ask you, would you read your story to the last page? Riddle me that.