Some days it's as natural as breathing, but others? Well, it's a challenge to know just how to put into a rather short article just what is going on in my life. At the moment, it's a little bit of this, a little bit of that... (go ahead, you know you're humming that doggone song!) The challenge, however, as I face my readers is -- do you care?
After all, I started this blog so that I could share my poetic side, and a bit of my life, too, I suppose. I don't want to share too much of my poetry, though, because when I submit it to periodicals, they want something fresh, not something freely given away. I'm not famous enough to do that just yet, nor am I amateur enough. I'm at the tipping point where things might start to happen rather quickly.
I read a lot of your blogs through a blog reader, which I highly recommend as a way to get through them more quickly without having to flip down through bookmarks, and I enjoy so many great photos. I'm not a photographer, though, and very often the pictures you get from me come from a cell phone camera. I feel like I'm showing you my grainy home movies! I don't have some great story to tell, either, not like some of the amazing people I've come across on the web who are facing immense challenges in their lives. I won't name names here, because I would hate for anyone to think I was -- I don't know -- jealous (?) in any way of their major life issue (cancer/sick children/dying parents/etc.). It's just that they have a story to tell. What is mine?
So I began to wonder where I wanted to go with this blog, when lo and behold, Lavinia Ladyslipper told me what it was all about! She was right! I've been blogging what it's like to go through mid-life, figuring myself out. It's a life passage like any other that requires thought, energy, and lots of ice cubes (read: hot flash antidotes).
Some time ago I picked up a book from a bargain bin at the bookstore, simply because it was by an author I knew, and I needed the 3rd book to get the 3 for 2 sale price. It's called When the Heart Waits and is by Sue Monk Kidd, the author of The Secret Life of Bees. I don't even remember looking at the topic very closely, but I came across the book this weekend when I was moving everything into place in my new office. Guess what it's about? Yes. Mid-life.
Kidd writes about her sense of loss and loneliness, of the whole "Who am I?" question and about finding a cocoon on the very day she was taking a long walk and wondering if she even wanted to go home. It's such a strange time in our lives. For women, a sports car or an affair won't do the trick. We have to go inside ourselves and birth a new person. I don't know about you, but I birthed two already and was hoping not to have to go through the labor pains again! Yet here I am, just like Kidd, searching for the real me, the true self that I was before I started putting on all the masks that let me explore the world and its inhabitants.
Can you see the real me, doctor? Doctor?
- The Who, "The Real Me"
(Picasso, 1938. Woman in a Hair Net)
I know that bits and pieces of me, my sense of humor, my poetry, my style, my faith, all come through in the blog, but who is the real me? The total me? I'm still figuring that out, and I'm honored to have you all along for the ride. I hope to land in one big integrated heap someday soon. I may end up looking like a Picasso, but I hope you'll still respect me in the morning ;-)
Peace - D