This is a Test

I thought it might be good to write about writing and how it parallels and mimics my life in general.

That’s it.

I said it might be good to write about but I have no idea how to proceed with that idea.

Here goes:  I have written poetry and short stories and academic papers and all kinds of things since I learned to write at the age of 6.  For me, writing is like an organic extension of my physical being, i.e. a third arm and an extra lobe in the brain. If I don’t exercise these parts of myself they atrophy and I can tell as it is happening.  I become scattered and unhappy.  I cry and stomp up and down and cannot collect my thoughts.  Most of the time when I write I don’t have any idea of what words will flow out, but, flow out they must.  Otherwise I suffer from a kind of feeling that I am incomplete. It is hard to explain.

I have wanted to publish a book since I was very young.  Actually, I often assumed I would be a writer who would live in a charming house in the country somewhere in New England with a large retriever dog and a professor husband who dresses in tweeds. I can say I got close to that.  My house is large, although it is in Texas, and my husband, who doesn’t wear tweeds, was a college professor of German until we both realized he really needed a salary.  Thanks be to God he found software early on!

Frankly, a lot of my dreams have come true due to my own bull headedness and my husband’s.  We are both very demanding of ourselves and in some ways, of others.  We raised two beautiful children who have defied the odds and both gotten educated and then found spouses we heartily approve of before 30.  (We didn’t expect that, by the way.)  Oh, and these things didn’t just happen due to our own agency.  At least that is what I believe.

In fact, we live in our big house, with our big yard, with too many animals and are as close to our children as we can be without interfering in their lives.  So, where does all of this lead me?  I said I was testing something.  What?  I am testing my own mind.  There have been times in the last dozen years where I have felt that my mind and the words that I write were all I had left.

I suppose that is as good a lead in to what I want to say as any.  I wish and hope that everyone who reads this, will also read the book. I am very close to finished.  It will be published to Amazon. That way people can access it in whatever form they like.   Of course I want to publish hard and soft copies and market it myself but that is an expensive proposition and I am not too sure it is worth it.  I think we will see how we do with this first method to get it out there and go from that.  If anyone who reads this has expertise they want to share with me about any of this, please feel free to tell me!

The process of editing, cutting and reshaping work I did years ago, especially when I was at my very worst, has been difficult.  It has also been inspiring at times. I read myself and think, “how did you keep your head up?” I really don’t know.  But being immersed in my own writing has taught me one big lesson: I can always live to fight another day, even if the day I am in looks hopeless. I have pushed through some pretty shitty days and I’m still here.  That in itself is a form of encouragement and underpins my faith.

Now that both of my children are married, I have been taking stock of how I want to live the rest of my life. There are days when I have lots and lots of things I want to do and days when I just crawl around.  Soemtimes it feels as though there is nothing in between.  I often wonder when the other shoe will drop.  Or to be more plain, when one of my weird diseases will take over again and have its way with me.  To be honest, that is a huge worry.  I try as hard as I can to just live my life one day at a time.  I have learned from experience that there isn’t much more any of us can do.  I often notice my children and others who are younger than my wise age of 57, that live as I used to, wildly punching forward and intensely focused on the next great thing they can do.  I used to be like that.  These days I am resigned to the fact that we just don’t know what’s next.

I don’t necessarily see my current sense of the temporal nature of things as a bad thing.  I think it just comes with age and a whole lot of mileage.

So, what am I testing and what is next?

A lot of stuff to be honest.  Today is the first night of Hanukkah and I invited the whole family over.  I am starting to realize that putting on big dinners is harder than it used to be.  If I didn’t have a really nice husband, I couldn’t do it anymore.  However, I am glad we can do it.  Today is also my dad’s birthday.  He would be 92.  Is it crazy to keep counting the birthdays of someone you lost 28 years ago?  I just never forget.  He is always close.

I am trying to focus on the things that nourish my soul. I have started taking voice lessons aagain and that has just been wonderful.  I walk my little dog a lot and listen to either choral  music or sometimes hard rock:). I also love listening to podcasts in German because it keeps me bilingual.

The little things that feed the soul are important.

As to my book, which is based on several years of this blog, I can’t state how important it is to me.  It has been a very steep learning curve.  But, I would not trade it for all the tea in my pantry.

I am going to end this here.  It is Jan. 4, 2023 and I just need to post it. I will send out something else soon!