Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Bloom Where You're Planted



"Bloom where you're planted," said Mary Engelbreit (and my mother).

I have fought against this idea for years because I didn't like where I was planted: in a verbally/emotionally abusive marriage, a stressful and unfulfilling career, a hot, humid state that held very little beauty for me. My "soil" felt toxic to me, held no nutrients, and was too dry to give me strength and stability. I felt unprotected from the harsh elements that would come to try to beat me down. It seemed as if there were no gardener to come tend to me, to pull the weeds that would grow up around me and try to suck up all the good around me.

Yet somehow, I didn't wither away. I managed to survive through the financial drought, the legal storms that battered the flowers I was so desperately trying to bloom, the lonely times where I felt undernourished in love and acceptance. Even though they are battered and bruised, my roots are still strong and deep. They continue to seek out those precious elements that will strengthen me, nourish me, help me to grow.

It is said we either have roots or wings. Although I always wanted roots, my wings have kept me from planting real roots and blooming. Flying away, far, far away, was my daily agenda. I wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible and plant roots somewhere else. Yet I found myself trapped, unsure of how to get out so I could bloom elsewhere. I tried anything I could think of to get out, but nothing worked.

At times I thought I would just wither up and die. Sometimes I didn't even care. But the dream of becoming the beautiful flower I know I am meant to be kept me going. I know it can happen. I know it will happen. I know the potential inside of me and it gives me strength.

I still want to fly away, but I've decided that maybe Mary and mom are right.....bloom where you're planted because that is the only way you can fly.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

I don't know what the title to this will be

I want to write, but I don't know what I want to start with.



My research is done for the book about Ernest Thompson Seton. That would be a logical starting point, yet there are other things swirling through my head about which I think I need to write.



I've decided that I need to write a book called "Letting Go" since letting go is one thing I have had difficulty with in my life. It would be a journey through my life so far, a memoir I suppose. It would chronicle how my inability to just simply let go has impacted my life negatively.



I also want to write a book called "I'll Drink Wine on Your Grave When You're Gone - an Impossible Love Story". It would be a true love story, one whose ending is still undecided.

Maybe I can begin writing all three books. My head swirls with thoughts, memories, hopes, ideas each day, words begging to be given a home outside my brain.

Write.

That's all it takes.

Write.

What happens when you take a break from Facebook?

Eleven days I ago I deactivated my Facebook account. The negative posts, political bashing, and idiotic memes were beginning to have an adve...