Saturday, October 10, 2009

Write:100--Days 9-17

How's your week been? Mine's been sorta uppydown, emotionally. Yeah, I know . . .nothing new about that :), at least for the past few years.

Spent one afternoon out in Bella, eating a delicious lunch and reading and journaling. Then some wicked cold, oh-so-NOT-October weather swooped in. I've got a heater I can take out there with me, but haven't hooked up electricity yet. [I'm throwing in one of my last sunflower pictures, as my way of ignoring the snow]

I've been faithful in writing every day. I'm pretty proud of that.

And something new has transpired. After talking to my daughter and another writing buddy after our bi-monthly writers's meeting, I witnessed a decided turn in my daily writing for WRITE:100. My daughter was encouraging/urging/prodding/lovingly pushing me to see if I could move beyond having my past be so very present in my 100 writing. I had no problem with that, in theory. I just didn't know how to DO it. Whatever writing prompt came up each day, was met with a tsunami of very sharp, very pungent memories of something not pleasant.

I knew her suggestion was good--more than good, actually needed. But I said I needed some "gimmick," something I could hold to mentally to turn me in another direction. Some sort of doorway into other thoughts.

Ah. . . a doorway . . .

Years ago, during the wrap on a theater production I was in, we worked to clean out the backstage area. Someone had thrown away a gizmo that had been used to simulate door sounds. To my eye, it was far too intriguing to be consigned to a trash barrel. I yoinked it out and have had it in one of my rooms ever since. I went to said room and re-found it, buried under several piles of Stuff (no big surprise there, huh?).

The Doorway is now propped next to my computer, its door, complete with creaky hinges, slightly open.

This perfect visual has called out to me for the past four days of daily writing. It invited me to read the prompt and then step through that doorway and see what else might want to be written . . . and . . . (drum roll here, please . . . .)

With hardly an extra breath, I stepped into another whole world. Jessie started telling her story and she and I are now down in Mexico . . . on a beach . . . and as far as I can tell, I plan to devote each day to her story. Whatever prompt I turn to, it's Jessie's story being written. Yes, bits and pieces of my life are there, but only bits and pieces. Hallelujah.

Amazing. Just amazing.
(P.S. Daughters are pretty incredible, aren't they?)

Has something amazing happened in your life? Wanna share with me?


Amanda Fall - PersistentGreen said...

Mothers are pretty incredible, too. ;)

I love Jessie's story, and have been privileged to hear more of it. Can't wait to see where she takes you--you're off to such a promising beginning.

You make me want to go write!

Felicia Kramer said...

What a wonderful visual that door is! Love it.

And I think both of you are incredible - mother and daughter. I think I can guess at the emotional rollercoasters you both have been on, and I have experienced much the same in my life. So I can relate.

You also make me wish that I still had my mother around to build a closer relationship than we had when I was a young'un, although in her later years I was able to move past a lot with her.

Sharon said...

I am so proud of you, Maureen, and of Amanda for being brave enough to keep prodding and poking you. This is truly a new beginning! I have been hoping to see this for a long time. In your past few posts, I have seen the "noose of the past loosen" and have been glad. I am thrilled to hear you have removed it!!! So very joyful for you!

A.Marie said...

Hi there! Just came over to see how you are doing! :)

aquamaureen said...

Thank you, all of you, for your sweet and supportive comments. It is truly a joy to feel movement beyond the stranglehold of past events. I have trusted for a very long time that such a time would come, when I was ready. The loving support of family and friends helps immeasurably.