Have you ever written about something that affects you, and after spending a good hour on it, feeling that you have written all you want about it, read through it, did a bit of editing on it and then publishing it, suddenly realise…there was a whole other aspect of what you should have written about?
In about 3 hours, it will be exactly 2 months and a day since my mum was rushed to the hospital in distress. 2 months since I spent the night that was to be her last, with her at the hospital and a day short of 2 months since she passed on – to continue her journey as the beautiful, amazing soul that she is.
On this side of the world, as I type this, there are another 19 days before November takes its place in our lives. November, the month when writers from all over the world go a little, shall we say, (creative) crazy?
To be honest, I have no idea if I should blame the full moon, the dreary weather or both. I have no idea if it’s just me in a slump. I have no idea if I need a slap to “wake up” already. My mind is in this weird place. It’s not for once, over thinking…yet, it’s not exactly in that silent state when one meditates. My body feels fine. My emotions on the other hand…feels a little dull. Quite dull. Blurry. Not there. But there. As if there is something bubbling just beneath the surface and one small act of I don’t even know what, is going to cause this eruption of…I don’t know what. So, in the spirit of wanting to stubbornly carry on with Nano Poblano because, damn it, I am not gonna quit…yet. Even though my mind says, knowing when to let go takes wisdom and it doesn’t mean quitting…I’m stubborn. Hehe.
Today as I type this at about 7 in the evening, I realise that I may be in deep shit. Well, in the larger scheme of life, it won’t even qualify as anything major. In fact, it’ll probably just make the tiniest tiniest little blip and then disappear. However, in my mind and the way I think, it’s one of those irritating challenges or obstacles sitting in the middle of the road…sitting like a big flabby ugly slimy icky monster, sticking it’s tongue out at me…it’s like that horrible sound when nails scratch across the chalkboard…it just makes me wanna pull at my hair and scream or run away and hide from the world hoping that it disappears…when I know that all I have to do is to close my eyes, take a deep breath, give my mind a pep talk and it will all disappear and things will be alright.
Brida is a book by Paulo Coelho. I bought it quite a few years ago and like most of Paulo Coelho’s books, only when the time is right do I usually reach out for his books. I still have three of his books sitting on my shelf waiting to be read. Brida was one of the “hardest” books I’ve read, because it scared me. I don’t know why, but Brida reminded me of me. And that to me, was scary. I’m glad to say though, that I did complete the book and though I have not gone back to it, it’s still one of my favourites from this author.
I don’t know about you, but for me I was thinking about this post I am about to write when I realised: why is it SO hard to get up and do something that is positive for ourselves but so easy when it’s something not as “good”. For example, why is it easier for me to get up from my chair to go make my 6th cup of coffee but much harder to do so when it is my first bottle of water. It’s like my arse has this love-hate relationship with the seat of the chair. It’s as if when it’s something “not good”, like the 6th cup of coffee, my arse and seat of chair have had an argument and arse walks off in a huff. When it’s something “good” for me, like practicing Qi Gong or getting that bottle of water..arse and seat of chair can’t get enough of each other.
Some of my friends keep telling me that all I seem to do is to either work or clean my room. I agree with the work bit, but you know, I really am not cleaning my room ALL the time. I do admit I can be messy and it really isn’t my fault that this room of mine tends to attract dust like a well..dust magnet.