The Uncluttered Mother

I can hardly wait to share my new book with you! It is being released by Devorss & Company in September, and is available now for preorder almost everywhere books are sold.

A few fall author event dates to share, mostly outdoors:

*9/25/21 @10:30 am Douglas MA Orchard & Farm at the pavilion

*9/26/21 @1-3pm Westboro, MA Tatnuck Bookseller

* 9/29/21 @2-6pm Grafton Farmer’s Market Providence Rd.

*10/10/21 @2pm Hardwick, MA Vineyard & Winery

Relevance

In the midst of a pandemic I get my first book contract and let the cognitive dissonance settle in.  I am elated!  It is meaningless! By the time the book is published, will the words I’ve written even matter?  In a world full of sickness and chaos, is art even relevant?

My husband and I go away to celebrate our 33rd anniversary.  He is reluctant in these times, but I’ve found us a private spot on Cape Cod, we pack a bag, some food, and we go.  On the drive down I am describing the adorable guest house I have secured for us. I am happy to escape the everydayness of our lives, the news, the impertinence of my writing.  It is called the Sweetest Little Suite, I tell him.

It has probably been renamed The Covid Cabin, he quips.

Don’t make me laugh, I say. There is nowhere to pee.

I know the state of the country, the world for God’s sake, is not funny right now.  It is dark and uncertain, but we need to laugh when we can because the crying will come too, if not for ourselves, for others.

It is freakishly warm for the middle of November, but we don’t see anyone else at the seashore except for maybe a few people sitting so far down the beach they are like large grains of sand, their movement almost imperceptible.

It starts off as a dare, me tempting my husband to jump into the crashing waves, and it ends with both of us running into the ocean, going under.  He disappears first and when he pops up he is shouting for me to hurry before the next wave drags me violently across the sand.  Shrieking, I dive in, my timing more a reflex of panic than any kind of strategy.

When you’ve been married this long, there aren’t many firsts you haven’t met; first home, first child, first move, job loss, illness. We’ve had them all.  But this- today- swimming in the ocean  in the middle of fall- for our November anniversary- this is a new first.

I emerge from the cold, invigorated. The sun warms my skin as it creates glitter across the water.  The reflection is spectacular; there is so much light.  I am insignificant, but at the same time connected to the brilliance of God’s creativity.

Fully present, mind and body in harmony, I take it all in. I see and feel the ocean, the world, as the most amazing work of art.

In this moment, the art is everything.

Where’d You Go, Creativity?

It is no accident that I am writing about the challenge of carving out a creative life when it’s been so long since I’ve written anything here.

Why is it so challenging to carve out a creative life that stays consistent?

Allow me to state the obvious:  Creative projects are often  solo pursuits in which we have to give ourselves permission, accountability, boundaries around our time and the will to keep going when it is just so easy to let it go among everything else competing for our time and attention.

And in addition to a creative life requiring time to create, it also requires time to just be. Writers and other creatives need alone time like they need air and water.  So if we need quiet time to prime the pump and quiet time to create, and we live in a time that practically insists – or at least expects – us to be hyper focused on the outside world, much more so than on our inner selves,  then of course it takes more than a little effort to protect a creative life.

Essentially though, I know I am capable of doing better, of doing more. Life is full of choices and I think I am running out of excuses.

Recently, I saw the movie Where’d You Go, Bernadette, based on the bestselling novel. Bernadette, so far removed from her former artistic career, has become anxious, destructive and unhappy.

It’s not so difficult to imagine a bout of writer’s block that goes on far too long resulting in my own demise. Perhaps that’s a bit dramatic, but the longer I leave a written book gathering dust, an essay unwritten, or new ideas to die on the vine, the more intimidating it feels to crack open the door to the work. It’s as though I cannot bear to face what I have neglected.

Good things, life affirming things, happen during a creative spell that are hard to replicate. When engaged in a creative pursuit, we are in the flow of a higher consciousness. In the act of creation we feel energized,  joyful, at peace, and expanded.

We don’t think and feel in the same way. Those neural networks our survival thinking had wired are turned off …we see new possibilities. We are now quantum observers of a new destiny. And that release heals the body and frees the mind”.

 ­- Dr. Joe Dispenza, Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself.

In short, we are better when we are creating! We are happier, calmer and freer. Who doesn’t want that, for themselves and every creative person they love?

***

I could write about how to fight the good fight and maintain consistency in creativity, but clearly after such a dry spell, I am not the one to give such advice. Besides, it’s been spelled out already in some fabulous books such as The War of Art and Big Magic.

But speaking of magic, I occasionally get some good insights in my dreams and recently I awoke with these words in my head:  Just do a little bit each day.  The message was that simple and that clear.

So there you have it. This was my little bit for today.

 

An uncluttered new year

As time passes, I become more and more aware of what a precious commodity it is. I don’t just notice how quickly the years pass, but also how quickly a day can pass. I am not someone who lives for the weekend, or for vacations or holidays. I try my best- and am grateful for this luxury- to make my daily life align with my heart’s desires.

I hear this awareness of the rapid passing of days from others as well and perhaps time’s limit contributes to  FOMO (fear of missing out). It tends to have the opposite effect on me though- it is quite clear to me that we will all miss out on most of what life has to offer. When you think about it, how many careers, events, or anything else that exists to partake in can one possibly fit into a single lifetime? In the big scheme of things, we will miss about 95% of everything! As soon as we grasp this, we can let it go. Then we can focus on what truly matters most to us, without wasting time focusing on the rest.

I am not suggesting that we dismiss things we truly want to do. Not at all. It’s all about choices. Clear the decks. Make room. Declutter your life of all that is meaningless, suffocating, or just not quite meant for you.

A few simple questions help me to determine if the way I am spending my time aligns with my top values.

Am I working on my writing goals and does my writing add value?

Am I doing something that supports or advances my well being, physically, mentally, or spiritually? 

 Am I nurturing my important relationships?

Life is too damn short to do everything. In fact, even the attempt to do it all will surely drown out those inner callings that quietly lead us down our own unique paths.

More of what we love. Less of what we don’t. Wouldn’t that be the best year yet?