Wednesday, September 23, 2009

I'm fine.

In my line of work-that is, the service industry, I get asked every single day how I am...I say the same phrase almost without fail...I'm fine, thanks so much for asking.
and I am, fine that is. Physically (although I could still stand to drop a few pounds) I'm healthy, I eat well, I see well, and hear perfectly fine, all my fingers and toes work and most of the time my brain is engaged. I have a happy healthy family. We are in no physical pain. We have cars that work and fruits and veggies and a warm and caring extended family. We have what we need, and a good bit of what we want.
but sometimes, like right now, I'm not fine.
I lie.
I'm frustrated, I'm worried and I'm frightened.
I'm frustrated that I can't get as much done as I'd like, I'm worried that I won't get it all done before we move and I'm frightened that things could get worse.
I know when people say, How are you? Most often they are being polite and I adore all things mannerly and polite and to respond I'm fine is more polite than saying I'm so stressed out it feels like I'm swallowing sand sometimes.
but, once in awhile I mean it, I am fine. I am at peace, the very core of me, where I carry my assurance that everything is OK, is still and calm. I relish these moments, because I know, deep down, things are fine, that I'm good, that it will work out, and when I say I'm fine....
it will be true.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

What if Weekend

I have a million stories. I love stories. I think it may be what drives me to want to be a writer. I love hearing new stories, My brother, who is a police officer is a well of stories that constantly make me say, I just can't believe it. My Dad, when he tells a story, has this great boyish smile that makes the whole story better and you can't wait to be in on the joke. I love listening to family stories, work stories, church stories, funny stories, serious, heart wrenching stories. And sometimes I pull from my well of stories when I'm stuck or blocked or completely stalled as I have been for the last two weeks. I play the what if game. What if my character fell in love/fell out of love/watched a Disney movie?
I love to play this game in real life, it's a part of my love of a story. I make up stories about people in waiting rooms with me, what if they are on their way to buy a new car, a new dog? I play what if with my life as well, what if I didn't love my children more than my own skin? What if I hadn't met my husband when I did? What if I publish a book? What if I don't?
I play with M, but he tires of it far before I do, what if we won the lottery? What if we were handed everything, what if we didn't know the value of work, and appreciate all we had? What if I publish something to great reviews or to terrible reviews? What if something happens to one of us?
I play with my kids, although they get bored with one round and want a cupcake or a hug, what if we have to move again? What if we can't go on vacation or rent movies?
I love this game, but not only does it get exhausting trying to figure out all the possibilities, it's frustrating to figure out the 'right' thing.
Especially when you are stuck on a puzzle piece of a story. How do I get from point a to point b to the conclusion? Where is my character going and What if I get it all wrong?
I am playing what if this weekend for one of my characters and I wonder will she figure out she's a good guy? What if she doesn't? What if I don't connect the dots?
What if I get so frustrated with the story I press delete and start over?

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Blind Faith.

I grew up in church, but I'm a skeptic. I'm not saying I don't believe in God, because I do, I certainly do. I also believe that other religions believe what they believe for a reason as well. Almost every day I go to the YMCA, where you can grab a verse a day out of a basket when you check in. My children grab without fail and today Bradys verse was from Matthew, Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. When I read it to my three year old, he patted my face and said, 'God will help when you are tired, Mommy'. I almost fainted. I am exhausted every single day, but lately I've been feeling a bit better ( I assumed because I was working out regularly) but maybe I wasn't giving credit where credit is due.
Maybe all it took for me to realize how God works every single day in my life is one sentence from my son.
Thank you Lord, for every single day we wake up healthy, with food to eat and clothes to wear and a place to live, Thank you for our jobs, our shoes, our love for each other and our oppurtunities. Thank you for every day my car starts and I have money for gas, thank you for the beautiful weather, birthday cakes and good cell service days. Thank you for friends, for art, for literature, for the energy to get through the day. And thank you most of all for the wisdom of children and the wonder of youth.
And right now, I feel a little less tired just thinking about it.