Asleep/Not Asleep

A sleepy glance at the digital numbers on the bedside clock confirmed her suspicion, one o’clock in the morning. She had fallen into an exhausted slumber at ten expecting to catch up from a week of soothing family friction, but her mind was racing. Another glance, two o’clock. She groaned, flipped her pillow, turned over and tried focusing her thoughts on her breathing, in, out, in, out.

The dark stillness of the night, once soothing and comforting, felt oppressive in its slow march toward morning.

Three o’clock, another hour of fragmented dwelling on words not spoken, words best not spoken.

Rediscovering Goal Setting

This has been a year of shifting focus and restarts, from returning to my work after full-time daycare of my grandson to caring for an ill parent to rearranging my home to make room for my son and his two toddlers to share my home with, to providing daycare to his daughters, to caring for my mom during the last few weeks of her life’s journey to finding my way through the first month of grieving the death of my mother and the work of settling her estate and back to carving out time to return to my work.

There are times I question my ability to meet the demands I place on myself to do all the tasks I think need to be done, to be there for my family and still meet my inner demand to create, to express myself and to immerse myself in storytelling.

I am starting to find the nooks and crannies of unused time in my life and pulling them together into stretches of quiet solitude to call my own, time to reflect, time to read, time to just be and it is changing the mosaic of my days, creating a pattern, a routine and a structure bringing order to the several months of reactive, chaotic, dealing with what is immediately in front of me at the moment life, I have been living.

                                                                  *

I wrote this on September 29^th and surprise, surprise I didn’t take the opportunity to post it until now due to additional demands on my time and unforseen events that needed my attention.

This past year has been an up hill battle to carve out time for myself. It is my nature to care more for others needs than my own and easy for me to put my ambitions, my desires, and my goals on hold.

As the year winds down and I think about my life and what I want to accomplish, I have to admit that I and only I am responsible for how I choose to spend my time. I can still be there for family and friends. I can still participate in activities and make adjustments in my schedule as needed, but I can, also, set aside time for me and expect others to respect that.

I started doing that in October when I committed to running a 5k on Thanksgiving morning with my daughter, son-in-law, a couple of nieces and a nephew. At first I didn’t think I would find the time to train, but I put my training runs on the calendar and on the scheduled day I would keep the thought of running with my family firmly in mind to motivate me to put on my running shoes and get out the door.

It worked!

For the first time in over six years I was able to train for and complete a 5k run. I felt on top of the world and realized I could accomplish any of my goals regardless of the unexpected or even the expected obligations, events, and requests for my time that arise over the course of living life by scheduling time to work on my goal and keeping the goal in mind while I work.

Inner Reflection

How is it my mind is quiet and still when I find the time to write and, yet, when I am in the middle of other obligations it starts bursting with thoughts?

Nothing There

She stopped moving and waited, listening to the silence of her home. At her feet Kate, her longhaired grey cat rubbed against her shin. The single lamp in the living room cast her shadow across the carpeted floor and onto the wall. Between the open drapes behind the couch the panes of glass were black, sightless eyes giving away nothing of the world they looked out at.

In the dim light she thought she heard a rustling in the kitchen, a whispery shuffling of feet rubbing against the vinyl floor. She stared at the doorway to the kitchen, concentrating on the rectangular gloom through which she could make out the edge of a counter and a part of the stove. There isn’t anyone in the house she reassured herself. It’s just my imagination. She inhaled, held her breath and let it out in a gradual expulsion of air.

Her family had checked the house multiple times over the last year. The police had stopped to check every time she called 911. Her therapist prescribed a medication for her to take, a medication that would eliminate the imaginings of her mind. She stopped taking the pills, as she didn’t like how they made her feel.

Something moved at edge of her vision and she jumped, swung her head around and stared. Everything appeared normal. Kate was sitting on the back of couch licking her paw, the dark window behind her framing her like an open mouth about to consume a tasty morsel.

A hand clamped against her mouth. An arm pulled her hard against a rigid chest. Harsh breathing sounded in the space above her head. Kate yowled and launched herself, scrabbled up the leg next to hers and sunk her teeth and claws in the head of the man holding her. He let her go, stumbling backwards flailing at the enraged feline clinging to him. Free from his grip she dashed into the kitchen, grabbed the broom and started swinging at his torso and legs. He stumbled over an end table and crashed to the floor. He lay still. Kate let go, sniffed the inert form on the ground, lifted her tail high and sauntered over to her mistress.

She reached down and stroked Kate on her back once before scooping her up and running out of the house to her neighbors to call for help.

Outside

“David, will you take Elizabeth outside to the swings?”

“Do I have too?” David said without shifting his attention from the video game.

“Yes, both of you could use some time outside.” Mom said stepping in between her son and the television. She held out her hand for the controller and waited.

“Fine. I’ll go out with her. But all she wants to do is look for the fairies.” David said handing the device to his mother and reluctantly stood up.

“Just take her outside and keep an eye on her. Besides an imagination is a good thing to have.”

Moment of Peace

Ah, back at my computer putting my thoughts and feelings down on, well not on paper, but on the screen in front of me. It’s such a weird thing to do. My fingers dance across the keyboard, tapping away, bouncing from one key to another, and before me appear words and sentences and paragraphs. I feel the tension drain away from my back and I relax, my eyes closed as I let my thoughts flow from my mind down through my nervous system and out of my fingertips. There is a sensation of peace sweeping over me similar to the gentle lapping of surf across my toes as I sit in a plastic chair at the edge of the beach where sand and water meet.

Then the doorbell rings and the dogs start barking and my husband yells from the other room, “Could someone see who is at the door?”