Under the Embers

Partitioned Day

First Half of the Day:

I find that blogging is best done either in the middle of the day, as I sit inside of my whirling-swirling life, or at the end of the day as a “pause and reflect”. Presently, it is neither. I have that itching stream-of-consciousness feeling right now, though… Or maybe it is procrastination. Either way, when the compulsion hits to sit and write something slightly more substantial than a one or two lined Facebook update, I think that I should roll with it, regardless of the time of the day.

A lack of feeling profound has been the single strongest setback for me, when it comes to blogging or doing anything that feels like I may be exposed or vulnerable in my creativity. “Your art is pretty, but I am the better writer between us. You should stick to art and I will do all of the writing” – said to me by my ex. He was confused as to why I didn’t understand his “good intentions” when I expressed distress. Before and after, I have received many flattering compliments on my writing (more before than after, as that comment did influence a decline in putting pen to paper, or rather, fingers to keys as times being what they are). I have, in my life, received a lot of positive responses to my creative efforts, but it is that one sentence that pops up when I scroll over the topic of “writing”. I need a good pop up blocker. Confidence has been recommended.

“You don’t think I seek external validation too much, do you?”

Impressive, ingenious, remarkable, meaningful; these are all words that I enjoy having attributed to my efforts. I am a byproduct of an Alfie Kohn nightmare. Someone, for the love of god, say “good job” already! When I feel this familiar restless angst, I have learned to ask myself, “Who is your audience?”… it is a humbling question with very humbling answers.

I am just trying to do the next right thing, over and over. “Acting my way into new thinking works much better than thinking my way into new actions.” I typed this out once already today, and it just popped into mind again. I must be tracing familiar paths down that neuron trail of my brain.

My children must get it from me; it is so easy to get “stuck”. I catch myself squinting sometimes, when I am re-thinking something over and over again, or especially when I am trying to move past a fret that I am powerless over. Some people avoid triggers, but every little thing of every little day can be triggering for me. I just try to run my Thinking past someone else before I let it turn into Acting. It is humorous how many times I realize, mid-sentence, how stuck I really am or how insane my thinking is, as I talk it out. I guess it is true enough, that you cannot really think about more than one thing at a time, but if you write it out or process it with someone else, it is much easier to see connections and patterns (related links, heh!).

Some days the path is clear to me, and I intuitively handle situations that used to baffle me. There are many days where I can feel myself moving forward, making changes that support my best image of myself and my intentions and goals. There are so many days where I feel like I have a clue.

Then there are days like today. The “don’t have a clue” days. My vision is foggy, my intuition blurry, and my motivation slumpy. Some days have clarity, but these Stuck days are like trying to see through cardboard. These are the days that matter even more, sometimes. My triumphs include dishes and laundry, not social justice or communicating progressive truth. I feel good about myself that I am parenting intentionally and speaking with love, even through I feel impulsive and temperamental. To quote my recent Facebook status update*:

Some days it is a serious struggle to stay positive, centered, and simple. But when it is achieved, it is these same days that feel the most successful.

Second Half of the Day:

What the heck is that song…? Zion hums and whistles it all the time. It is a guy and a girl singing, there is whistling.. it is popular and new (released sometime this year, as it is heard often on the radio). Zion loves this song. I have grown accustomed to having it stuck in my head. But we don’t know any of the lyrics. I can hear it in my mind, just fine… but I cannot make out any of the words. It has been months and months since I heard it, as we stopped listening to the radio once I stopped driving the van.

UPDATE!:

I asked Raven, again today, if she knew this song. She shared in our misery, because she could not remember the name or the band, either. I begged her to remember any of the lyrics and she says, “I don’t know… something like ‘no, we don’t care about the…” and started giggling. Well, I took exactly that, her piecemeal lyrics, and plopped em into Google, and guess what? Vola! The very first response tells me that our beloved mystery song is Young Folks, by Peter Bjorn and John. And that, folks, is a very elaborate segue into…

Song of the Day:

Out of Context Quote:

“I did that to her and she didn’t even blink… but that is because her eyes are broken” – Wes

Evening:

Wes, Raven, and Zion are all outside in the snow. There are groups of neighborhood kids collecting around them. It is earlier than it feels, because it is dark out. I should not be concerned about kids playing outside at 4:30pm, but it feels dangerous when it is getting dark. I regain comfort when I remember that I can see them from the balcony, and remember that a 13 and a 15 year old should be able to handle playing in the snow with their little dude. But snow makes me feel uneasy. I can say that I am excited for the kids… they are having a great time together. Next will be my favorite part of snow; cookies and hot chocolate in front of the fire. I can get behind that.

Sora loves her daddy so much. She calls him “Bap”. She calls to him, “Bap, Bap, Bap!” Her Bap and her Brothers are her world. It is beautiful.

Rant:

There was court today, in Virginia. I imagine that I am not supposed to know about this. Not because it is a secret, but because no one was going to inform us intentionally. There was a foster care review. We were not provided notice of this, and were thus unable to participate. Again and again we are told that if we really care, we should participate in court. Time and time again the court dates pass, and we never receive any notification or updates. I get sick to my stomach with injustice. Wes gets so upset and feels invalidated. Allegations and speculations are presented, are completely unfounded, but influence decisions made about our lives. It is SO HARD to still be okay. I actually went back a few minutes ago and re-read part of what I wrote earlier in this blog, looking to feel centered again. My mind is heavy and has a soggy feeling. My heart hurts. I am thrilled that my mother is now legally divorced and can pursue freedom. I keep thinking to this to help pull me out of a funk, and it is helping.

In Other News:

The new Doctor Who Christmas Special (part one, of course) is just intense.

We get to see Donna Noble again, Wilfred Mott joins up with The Doctor, and we are chilled to our core when the Master returns. And Time Lords and Ood Sphere and the gearing up for a regeneration. Epic.

Preview for part two…

*Shutup, I can totally do that.

4 Comments so far
Leave a comment