Let Rise

I am, in some ways, a month behind in my life. I’ve been struggling with a horrible cold, and then the mind numbing effects of cold medication, and once again, I’ve missed paying bills on time, something that at one time I would be mortified to even say aloud, let alone write for the world to see. And so, yet, even in my writing, I feel like there’s so much I want to write about, so many projects and again, it seems like not enough time. My mother often accused me of cleaning with “a lick and a promise.” I don’t want to live my whole life this way, but sometimes, it seems the only way to get through, is to just get on with it. Right? I mean, who really wants to dust? 

So, to make some sense, to not fall too far behind, and then so, to stave off giving up; I’m trying to recap. I don’t think I ever quite took the time to write about the process of becoming a writer, at least not in the same way I’ve been trying to mark the process of becoming a therapist. Part of this I think, is this awful fear I carry with me, that if you talk about something you jinx it, and especially being a writer comes with all this baggage of how hard it is, how you never get paid for it, and how confusing, even, the whole process is now. I can’t tell you how many times people have asked why don’t I just self-publish. The process isn’t like becoming a therapist. As much as I struggle with the details of the whole getting licensed part of my therapist career, it is a clear path, as opposed to writing.  

As much as I’m juggling writing and therapy, when I try to put my writing on the ‘back burner’ it just won’t stay there. My writing is such an integral part of my life, it won’t take a back burner or a back seat, it wants to drive. So, unexpectedly this past year, a short piece that I wrote was published in an anthology, The People’s Apocalypse, and finally, my writing was in an actual book. One of the editors, Ariel Gore, coached me with the re-writes of my memoir. It still makes me smile. And just last month, I connected with the writer Melissa J. Haynes, her book, Learning to Play With a Lion’s Testicles: Unexpected Gifts From the Animals of Africa had caught my attention (after being one of Jimmy Fallon’s top ten do not read books). 

The book is a beautiful adventure memoir, as Melissa travels externally to Africa, and also journeys inward, on a quest for reconciliation. I was impressed with her risk-taking on more than one level, and as we connected, she was impressed with my writing, and she offered me a guest blog on her site (melissajhaynes.com). Her generous sharing of her blog space and of her support for my writing has ushered in a more fearlessness in myself in making connections with others. Trust, yes, trust has been a big theme for me this year. Trusting myself, trusting others, trusting in the universe; this seems to be the antidote for risk, and it’s companion fear. I need to move into the next year letting go of fear, entering into the warmth of trust, and all that it might foment. I want to come in out of the drafty back porch and exist in the warm kitchen of life. Mix, knead, let rise, punch down, let rise, bake.