The past few days continue to be surreal. It’s Friday already? I go through moments of productivity, where I actually feel normal, then something triggers the memory and I get flooded with the cold reality my dear friend will never call or text or email or visit me again.
It’s not fair. A part of my life left without my permission………
What do you do when you don’t have the motivation, let alone the care, to do what you love?
For about a month now I’ve been feeling sluggish and uninspired to do any sort of writing whatsoever. Yes, I’m sure the lack of updates to this blog is glaringly obvious I am having some issues. There are many things I should be blogging about: my recent turn around the sun, my plundering of yarn stores, my Beltane experience with added drama llamas. And yet, I don’t. I himm, I haw, I cringe, and then reach for a pure distraction. Oh look. Laundry. Gee, I think it’s time I re-organized my tribble-sprouting yarn stash. How about I do uninteresting Facebook statuses? Sorry, did you say something? I was dressing up my virtual pet named “Elphie” on Petville.
Gah.
Even at this moment of ticka-tacka-typing I am struggling (or as Mr. Gaiman eloquently puts it, “trudging through fog”) to get the words out because it feels like a chore. Not in the “Every Writer Must Write Every Day Even If It Sucks” or the lame ass excuse of “I must await the arrival of my MUSE.” It’s more than that. It feels like much of the things I love to do, I simply don’t care anymore. I’d rather float and waft about barely touching the surface of anything of substance.
My heart is simply not in it.
And that scares the shit out of me. I have always been lead by my heart and tempered by my brain’s common sense. To attend a Beltane festival and simply not get into it, to want to write and simply get all flaky because it’s a burden isn’t like me at all. Granted, the moment I stop loving to Dance, now THAT is when I would seriously consider my mental status.
Knitting is a wonderful distraction from writing. I’m still creating something, but it’s for me and I’m always proud with how far my skills have come since I started this little hobby just over a year ago. Writing is different. I do it for me and for others. I’ve been doing it longer and I’m much more critical of myself.
So rather than blog or ink out short stories, I knit and watch movies. I want to change that. But to change it I need to figure why my heart has been so squished and stressed and wounded as of late.
Self-awareness can be a bitch sometimes.
For the past few weeks my sleeping has been a bit sporadic. Nothing detrimental or disturbing, just a lot of tossing and turning and waking up more tired than I was when I went to bed. Some dreams were there, others got lost in the cellophane whisper of waking up. Yet that has all changed thanks to last night.
I am looking for a job. That is nothing new. I am one of thousands upon thousands of people in my state who have been searching for a job for almost a year now. It can be frustrating, depressing, and very tasking on one’s sense of self worth. Last night I started a special 9-day crafting to draw My Ideal Job to me and I believe that performing such a positive, affirming ritual has shifted my brain into a happier frame of mind. So happy that last night while I slept like a baby, I had the most weird and coolest sort of dreams.
One segment had me at a university out in the woods. Cabins were the classrooms, all the students wore gray uniforms, and we were being instructed by the Japanese. The courses I was taking were math and English and the assignments were daunting (eg. Solve 100 math equations and then create 100 of your own, due tomorrow morning). As were the instructors strictness of follow-through. Yet in the end, we would get a holiday break of a month and a half. In other words, you work hard you can play hard.
Another segment had angels. One was a burly man with dark black wings and another looked like a little hippie. He was about 5’3″, large white wings, hand long hair, and wore a hemp shirt and drawstring pants. He was flying near an airplane which was suffering from technical difficulties and would have crashed if he had not swooped along, adjusted the wing with his bare hands as if it were made of tin foil, and guided the plane in.
One other segment had me out on a date with a guy who looked very much like younger Liam Neeson. Heh.
I was also on a jet with Amanda Palmer and her crew and we were taking silly photos with her iPhone.
Finally, I was in a movie theatre watching this apocalyptic film and the actress who played Kara “Starbuck” Thrace in BSG was staring in it. She played this kick-ass heroine who was going to bring down the bad guys who brought on all this destruction to the city. She had climbed into a secret passage to get to their main HQ so she could sabotage them from within. The camera then moves to the bad guys talking strategy (They had set up HQ in a very cool, and old looking library. Don’t ask.). Head Villain asked 3rd In Command if they covered their asses. No lose ends. 3rd In Command nervously said, “Yes. Of course, sir.” Head Villain tosses a very full looking organizer planner onto the table. It was busting out of the seams with papers.
“We have to make sure this does not happen. Because THIS is the most dangerous thing out there we face!” He points to the dayplanner.
“Why is that, sir? It is such a small thing.” 3rd In Command has no spine, of course, hence his ranking.
“Nothing can threaten us but THIS. No missiles, no secret ops, no Navy Seals. THIS is our most dangerous enemy. The Girlfriend!”
“Sir?”
The Head Villain opens up the dayplanner and out pours all these journal pages with sketches and plans and clippings — of a wedding to be. Written on the inside cover was a pledge to her man she would do anything to save him. “A woman in love is VERY dangerous. The Girlfriend will do whatever it takes to save her man. She will do anything for Love. So, 3rd In Command, tighten up security, get our tanks on the perimeter, because she is coming and we will be in for one hell of a fight.”
I laughed pretty damn hard when I awoke. You do realize, of course, that some of this is going into my NaNoWriMo today.
Gods, sometimes, I really love how my mind works.
