Start Where You Are
The hardest part is the starting. I was thinking about this at church today, when we were discussing the drop off in attendance at our youth group. I was thinking about this last week when I got all caught up in trying to find the right first sentence for a story that’s bubbling in the back of my mind. I was thinking about it today, watching the Mae-girl try so hard to roll over, just to get stuck, each and every time, on her side, and then completely lose her mind, so frustrated that she couldn’t complete the move that she was incapable of trying.
There’s this sense that I’ve missed so many thoughts, left so many things unsaid — how can I start again? How can I talk and not reference all those things I didn’t say? How can I start the conversation again?
I don’t have a pat answer. I need to get back to writing, just like I needed to get back to sewing and knitting after Mae was born in March. I need to express myself in creative ways, or I wither and die, and am a bitch to my kids and my husband. That does no good for anyone.
I can be better than I have been. I just have to make an effort.
If there’s anyone out there reading this, it would be lovely for you to shout out and say so. <3
Posted on June 12, 2011, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 14 Comments.
Getting back to writing is hard… I realized sometime this winter that it had been over a year since I’d written anything (other than stuff for school and work). I think some of it is just… doing it. Not worrying about if what you are doing ends up not being what you want, or if you stumble along the way… but just trying.
You’re exactly right, Allison; I think the getting-out-of-the-way part is the hardest. I’ve compared it before to turning sideways in the river, so that the current doesn’t sweep you away…but it’s not as easy as all that, so much of the time. Or rather, the knowing is easy, the doing is hard.
HOLLA!
How’s that for a shout out?
Excellent, and thank you
I’m reading. I’ve been thinking the same thing about my writing. I have recently been bitten squarely on the ass – my writing and sharing has been used against me so I’m gun shy. But I need to do it for me.
Yes I’m reading. And maybe when I think I can string all the words together, I’ll be able to make sense of how ‘start where you are’ sums up so very well what I’m trying to work around. It isn’t big, but it is (a new exercise routine and diet) but after sliding back, it’s hard to get up and go again. It goes for writing too. I wish I wrote more, but too often I get to a point where I feel like I’m just talking to myself. I satisfy the lack of writing with the sewing and the knitting and the crocheting. Maybe tomorrow, it will be the day to start socks.
Hey you. You don’t have to catch up, just leap in.
When you have babies around, they are so wonderful–but you need something that Stays Done. Like knitting. Or writing about the antics of two little girls who will soon be in grad school–trust me on that one. Hugs to all of you!
Yes, this is so it. I’m planning out a quilt for Lucy based on a quilt a-long that’s going on, and I’m loving it, because not only will it Stay Done, it will hopefully be something that won’t get grown out of.
Yup, still reading.
From all I have read of your written words I can tell that you have a talent with words. I often struggle to voice the exact words that I want. I find it true with knitting as well, some peoples stitches come off the needle smoothly with out missing a beat while others struggle to get the needle through because the stitch is too tight! I can’t wait to see what you create!
As someone else said earlier…it’s not about catching up, or figuring out where you left off…it’s about just doing it. When I write, granted, I write only for myself…I suppose most would consider my writings a “journal” (I don’t, but thats for another day) anyway, when I write, what ends up written is almost never what I set out to write. Usually I will hear a phrase, a thought, a sentence at some point during the day that strikes a chord with me. I write it on whatever I have handy, sometimes its a post it note, the back of my hand, whatever…and then when I get home I write that thought across the top of a page. From there, I allow my thoughts to flow freely, and my pen does all the work.
It’s funny, because most of the time I don’t even remember writing at all…but when I go back and read later, some of the most profound things are on paper, and I don’t even recall thinking them.
As a mom and a wife, you HAVE to make time for the things that make you Kristine. You can’t lose yourself to your family. Yes, your kids and husband are top priority, but make sure to take that few minutes a day for YOU, otherwise, you’ll never be able to relish in the true joy of motherhood, because you’ll always be missing a part of you.
When I die, you all have permission to read my writings if you wish…but not until. lol
I think my struggle is that it takes me a good solid hour to get past the staring-at-the-walls, browsing-the-internet, finding-the-best-font phase of writing a new story. If I’m REALLY REALLY LUCKY I get maybe 10 minutes to myself at a time. So I’m not getting to that REM sleep phase of writing, where I can let it happen.
I’ve been knitting instead, and sewing also, and that’s good, because those are things I can do WHILE I talk to Lucy or WHILE I hold the baby (well, knitting, not so much sewing…YET!!). I need to write to keep my head in the game, but I’m also at a place where I need to let go of writing to be published for maybe a year or so, until Mae is a bit more self-sufficient and I can actually say “Okay, kids, it’s Mama time for half an hour.”
Your paragraph about staying me — very astute.
Astute? Perhaps.
Experience is more fitting, I presume. Although you are older than me, I’ve been doing this mom thing for quite awhile longer than you have. I spent the first 5 years of my relationship with Allen completely consumed by him and our children. Don’t get me wrong, they are my world….I can’t even begin to picture a day of my life without them. But, I came to a point where I could no longer recall what I enjoyed. I got so wrapped up in the daily routine of being a working mom, that I lost all sight of the things that gave me the greatest pleasure. I felt….suffocated? Not sure that’s the appropriate term, but it’s the best I’ve got.
My husband is actually the one who finally told me that I needed to step back and look at myself, and find some kind of outlet that makes me happy, because if I continued on the way I was, he was afraid our marriage would not last.
It took me awhile to get over it initial feelings of guilt, like I was neglecting my family or something…but now, “me” time is just as much a part of my routine as everything else that I do. Thats not to say that I avoid my family for hours on end or anything…but I’ve learned that it is perfectly acceptable for me to curl up in my bed with a glass of wine and a chick flick, and let the kids stay down stairs with Allen. Or to forget about the laundry that needs folding for a day, so that I can finish up this book that I’m completely enamored with.
It’s all a delicate balance….too much either direction, and you’re either neglecting the family, or neglecting your soul.
This whole life thing…it’s pretty damn complicated.
Next time I come to VT, we are so meeting up for lunch.
I hear you; that’s why my sister’s quilt is all spread out over our “dining room” table, so that I can tie a string here or there. It’s very calming to me, that sort of repetitive work, and like Alison and I were talking about earlier, it STAYS DONE. Crucial, while I have two little whirlwinds working on destroying or spitting up on every possible corner of the house. Plus, I have zero motivation to clean, since we’re hoping to move at the end of this month.
It would help if our house were BIGGER, so that I could actually be in a part of the house where the kids had to actually work somewhat to find me, and it will also be easier when I am not the baby’s sole source of food.
I love these girls. This first part is rough, and I found last time that giving myself up to it as much as possible was the best way to survive. Around the half-year mark, things ease up a bit, and it’s calmer.