Let The Universe Decide

I have been trying to be more relaxed in my day to day life. With two kids, two part time jobs, and a need to write, this can be difficult. I'm putting my trust in the universe. When I let things go and don't stress, I find that I get what I need and the rest is inconsequential. Yesterday is a perfect example.
I had a bad morning yesterday. It wasn't anything big or catastrophic, those are the things I handle best, but it was all little irritations and inconveniences. It all culminated with a trip to the grocery store in the pouring rain to buy cat litter. The kids were pretty good in the store, though we did almost get smashed into by someone pushing a cart full of bread way too fast around a corner. I got to the express checkout, and the old woman ahead of me had the belt piled high with groceries, and for each she had a specific bagging request. I normally don't mind these kinds of things. When I'm by myself I can wait for hours if necessary. I like people watching and the grocery store is great for that.
With kids it's a different story. My son started climbing out of the cart while his sister yelled at him and tried to pull him back in. This is not normal cart. It's a cart shaped like a car, which puts the kids in front of me and my huge bag of litter and out of reach in the narrow checkout aisle. My son started crying.
I've been in this position before, and usually the person in front of me will take notice and hurry along if possible. This woman looked at the kids, handed over a $100 bill and began to count out exact change in pennies. The cashier was looking stressed by this time, and I was about ready to explode. She slowly shuffled away while I paid for my litter. We caught up with her in the exit to the store. She was stopped, her cart blocking the entire exit, examining the advertisements in the narrow hall. She saw us standing behind her and continued reading.
When we finally got out of there, I jogged past her into the downpour and loaded my kids quickly back into their car seats. I say quickly, but it still took quite a while, and I was soaked by the time I got into the car. Two spaces over from me, parked almost diagonally across the handicapped parking space was a huge silver SUV, and the old woman was climbing behind the wheel. My irritation and stress vanished at that moment, and I laughed. It seemed like a sketch comedy act.
That is when the universe intervened. As I drove home, I was thinking about a new story I want to write. I've basically worked out the major plot points and characters, and I was ready to start writing. This is where I ran into trouble because I didn't know how to start it. I always struggle with starting a story. Once I have that first line or paragraph I'm fine, but until then it bothers me day and night, and I get very stressed about it. I started thinking about the old woman and how I should write that moment down, and that's when I found the perfect start to my new story.
It made my whole morning make more sense. I often wonder why things happen the way that they do, especially at times when everything is going wrong and life is irritating. This was my answer for yesterday morning. I had to experience the irritation and the anger to have that moment and find the beginning of my story.

Holiday Ramble

Thanksgiving is a holiday that I am conflicted about. I love the idea of taking time out of our busy schedules to think about what we have in our lives that we can truly be thankful for. I think people should do this more often - myself included. I am a lucky woman to have the life that I do, and I try to appreciate it whenever I am feeling down or stressed or irritated. It doesn't always work, but it does put things into perspective.
I like the big meal with family, too, but this is what I am conflicted about. I love seeing my family. This year my great grandfather had dinner with us - 5 generations in one room. It was spectacular. He's going to be 97 in December, and every chance he has to see my kids is special for everyone. The part about the meal that I feel conflicted about is the permission to gorge that we grant ourselves. Struggling constantly with my own food issues and weight battle has made me very conscious of the growing problem of obesity in America - alongside the hordes of people who are starving. As we enter into the Christmas season, we should think about giving back, sharing our food and our love. Being with loved ones should be enough. We shouldn't have to binge drink and eat to enjoy ourselves, and we should think about the people who don't have enough. There are more and more of them. This is what I am going to try to do.
My husband and I are starting a month of healthy living. We're going to eat right, exercise, try to be more positive in our thoughts and actions, and abstain from our vices. It seems like the most difficult time to do it with all of the holiday goodies that will soon abound. I think it will improve us physically and emotionally. Hopefully, our good vibes will spread to everyone around us, and make the holiday season that much brighter.

It's official

I uploaded my manuscript to the NaNoWriMo site today, and I am officially a winner. It was an amazing experience, and I am already thinking about the script frenzy competition they hold in April. It was so fun and a definite learning experience. Loved it and I'm pretty proud of myself. :)

The Emptiness

Ernest Hemingway wrote about the emptiness that comes when a project is finished, and I have been experiencing that for the last couple days. The NaNoWriMo novel was an amazing experience, but it put me in such a frenzy that now that it's done, I can't look at it. I don't want to read it right now. I'm hoping I will eventually. When I finished I felt completely spent creatively. That's the emptiness. The feeling of having nothing left to say, and the fear that nothing else will ever come, that you will stay forever empty.
In some ways I'm not a very rational person, and I do not handle this fear very well. My dream is to be a writer, and the idea of having nothing left to put down on paper is absolutely terrifying. Luckily, it didn't last long this time. I'm working on a short story idea. I also have two books that need more revising, but it is hard to stay focused on revising. I need to be constantly creating.
When I'm not creating, I read. I used to read constantly, but two young children have made it difficult. I've also found that reading while I am writing something tends to distract me and taint my writing with whatever style I happen to be reading at the time. The only book I can read when I am writing is Hemingway's A Movable Feast. That book changed my life. It's what inspired me to start writing again, and gave me insight into the creation of a story.
I wonder if the emptiness is what made him shoot himself. It seems plausible. To spend your entire life writing and find that there just isn't anything left. It must happen eventually. Of course, I think great writers are all pretty messed up, lots of drinking and drugs. I try not to be afraid of the emptiness. I have theatre to help fill me up and my family to support me. So far, I am having luck with my writing. I'm satisfied with that.

Fulfillment

For the last two nights my students have been performing The Wizard of Oz, and they were fabulous. It makes me think about how amazing it is to have a job that is completely fulfilling. Seeing how much the kids loved being in the show and just the amazing energy of the performance nights, make me realize how much I love my job. Middle school is no picnic, and it hasn't always been easy, but it's always worth it.
I finished my novel for NaNoWriMo, and I'm pretty proud of myself. It's a freeing experience to just write without judging yourself, and I got a story written that I've been working on in my head for over a year. I'm going to do another revision on my other book and possibly start querying a couple agents. I can't ever stop working, and I am determined to get at least one of my books published.
I guess I'm just feeling really fulfilled creatively and happy with my life in general. Life is good, and I'm excited for the next projects. I'm extremely lucky to have everything I have, and sometimes it's good to just acknowledge it.

Thoughts about age

I've been thinking about age lately. A lot of my friends are turning 30 or getting close to it, and they complain and worry about it constantly. I'll be 29 soon, but I don't have the same fear that my friends seem to have. To me, age is just a number and how you feel is much more important. When I was a teenager and into my early twenties, I felt old. I was tired and depressed and very pessimistic. Some days I feel like I wasted that time, but usually I am able to see it as a catalyst for the growth of my character. It had to be the way it was, or I wouldn't be where I am today.
These days, I feel young. I don't feel 29. I enjoy life more than I used to and I have a surplus of creative ideas. I feel great. I feel like my thirties are going to be great because I know who I am and what is important.
I've always loved the elderly. I love talking to them and hearing their stories. I think it must be amazing to have lived so long and have known so many people and done so many things. I'm not afraid of growing old. I know it won't always be pleasant, but it will be an adventure.

I Won't Mourn For You

A guy from my high school died the other day. No cause was listed. It just said he died in his residence in Maui. He was one of my best friends for the first couple years of school. Of course after that he was probably one of my least favorite people. I think it's strange how people expect you to mourn anyone who dies, no matter what your previous relationship to them was and no matter how long it had been since you last spoke. I haven't talked to the guy in 12 years, but when my grandmother called her voice was full of fake sympathy, and I felt like I should be sad. I'm not. Later, talking to my mom it was the same thing. Oh it's so sad, etc. etc.
I probably sound like a jerk, but I just don't mourn for people that I haven't spoken to, and honestly, don't even know anymore. I've changed so much since high school and I'm sure he had, too. I'm sorry for his family. It's terrible to lose a loved one, but I shouldn't be expected to go to pieces over it.
I feel like I think about death differently than most people. I'm not afraid of it. I believe in reincarnation, so it's not the end of everything as far as I'm concerned. It's a new beginning, and who wouldn't want that? I also think that some people enjoy mourning and will take any opportunity to make someone else's tragedy their own. That drives me nuts.
So, I won't mourn for this guy. I've been thinking about when we were friends and trying to avoid the memories of when we were not. I'm trying to send positive vibes out into the world. That's the best I can do.