I’ve had thousands of best friends and hundreds of mortal enemies.
I’ve been married a hundred times and divorced a hundred times more than that, probably. I’ve had lovers aplenty, built homes, mucked stables…and all this time, I’ve insisted I am an alone person. Oh no. I have never been alone, not for a day of my whole life long.
Books are sneaky like that, aren’t they? They introduce us to friends as real as the ones that stand before us, and they break our hearts just as deeply as a lost real-life love might. Books are a powerful force, and they are as real as reality itself: because, actually, what is reality? Our mind’s perception of a scene laid out before us.
That description of reality sounds an awful lot like our experience of a book, don’t you think? The difference being: a book gives us longer to sit within the scene and hold it up against our real life for review. True reality, in contrast, usually comes and goes in a flash.
I invite you to open your mind and your heart to the idea of a book and its characters being as real as any other aspect of reality. Think of how beautifully full life would be if we all embraced that idea. No one would ever be lonely— our books would see to it that we’d have a friend for every day of the week, or at least for whenever we really wanted one.
Think of a book as another room in your house, a room filled with the most beautiful, quirky, joyful friends you could ever wish to find. That’s what I’m going to be doing from now on. And that’s how I know that I’ll never truly be the alone person I always thought that I was.
I may or may not be sitting here on my couch, eating chocolate. And when I say I may or may not be…what I actually mean to say is: I am.
I will warn you right now: this is one of those random posts about nothing that I sometimes sprinkle the pages of this blog with, the ones where you guys sit there and go, ‘Well how about that. She is just about one of the most random human beings that ever there was.’
I can understand your confusion. You never do know which version of me you’re going to get on here— the poet, the writer, the philosopher, the Soft Girl, the complete and utter dork. I’d probably file this one under the complete and utter dork category. I don’t see this one going literary on you, and I don’t see the words that lie upon this page changing the world in any sort of grand way.
I can promise you one thing, though. The words on this page are me, and I think that’s the beautiful thing about blogging. The sharing of one’s soul with a world of strangers who are, just by virtue of us deciding it, actual friends. And lovely, loyal friends at that.
I’m tired— exhausted actually, from a huge day of organising the newness of my life as a single Mum. No one goes into a marriage thinking they are going to end up divorced, do they? And so when it happens to…well, happen…it’s all the emotional, exhausting things. I have a stress rash on each cheek (on my face, omg, guys. Srsly. 😛 ) I have two eyes that are close to closing for the night (it’s 9:00pm). And I have three parts of a broken heart. A heart that I will rebuild with a new joy, a new life, a new way— but one that’s still a bit squished flat, right at the minute.
But I will get through this like an absolute trooper, I can guarantee you that. Sure, I will cry all the millions of ugly tears in between now and when the good stuff begins again, but the end goal will be a beautiful world that I build with my precious muffins. That is such an exciting prospect.
As an empath (and ‘bit of a sensitive muffin) I’ve always needed time alone to recharge and create. It’s safe to say, I’ll have plenty of that now that I’ll be alone again. I was only just thinking of it earlier, after a conversation I had with my Dad on the weekend: I’ve always sought to hide away from the real world. Even as a young child, I would play alone in my room for hours on end, talking to the mirror, playing with dolls, singing into toilet rolls. It is the natural state of me, and as much as I have loved the gift of my husband and best friend of all these years…I will very much appreciate the gift of returning home.
Well. She couldn’t resist going deep in the end, could she, hey guys. Lol. You all knew it would happen, don’t pretend you didn’t. Okay, well. It’s sleepy byes time. I hope wherever you are in the world, you are safe and happy inside of your shell.
I’ve been thinking on a more practical level (which, let me tell you, is highly unusual in the world of this cloud bouncing dreamer) and my thoughts have led me to a little bloggy holiday.
I’m questioning the sanity of this decision, given the lovely distraction this place gives me from all the yucky things of life, but I do think that even just a few days away might be nice. I’ve been blogging almost every day, for quite some time now. A little bloggy holiday might be quite a lovely thing, now that I really think about it.
Obviously, a lot of emotional processing is happening for me at the moment and, although I don’t necessarily feel I need to take a break from blogging…I figured it certainly wouldn’t hurt to take some days off from this little bloggy land of mine.
Things need to move in my world, and over the next few months, I’ll be slowly making some decisions in order to move them. The practical reality of a newly separated Mum of two little muffins hangs over me like a giant hand reaching from the sky, ready to squash me flat. In other words: I need to earn some money soon, or things are going to go from bad, to worse, to really terribly horrible. I’d like to avoid any sort of bug-on-windscreen action, If I can get away with it.
As much as I adore this beautiful bloggy land (and certainly don’t plan on saying goodbye to it anytime soon) my focus needs to shift to more practical matters, and the first of those is…how to turn the skills I have into the job of my dreams. I’m a writer. Right? I could write. But then what will I write about, and who will pay me for what I write, especially if I’ve given no thought to the words I have to share. There are many avenues I could begin to peer down, career-wise, and after I’ve wrapped my head around the emotional upheaval my beautiful little family is facing at this time— it’ll be time for this love-hearty dreamer to get busy.
A bit of time away from here won’t get me a job, or an instantly love-hearty life, but it will free up a little bit of energetic space, which I can then use to get a bit clearer on things. I’m so excited about the possibilities!
So! I’ll see you guys in…I’m not really sure how long actually, guys! It could be a few days, it could be a week that turns into two, I’m just not sure. But what I do know is that the time away will not be wasted. Life is too precious to be wasted on less than wonderful.
It’s time, now, for me to get clear on exactly what my kind of wonderful looks like.
I can’t imagine not reading and writing, just as I can’t imagine what it might be like never to breathe again.
Sometimes the words I write make no sense to me, or to anyone else that reads them. I don’t think that matters, now that I really think about it—no one understands the meaning of each individual breath they take. Well, at least, I don’t think they do…but I’m a big believer that anything is possible, and so I’m happy to keep an open mind on that one.
Words are the mirror that helps me see my life, and as I send my words into the world I offer that mirror to you so that you might see your life in relation to my own. I think that’s one of the gifts of books and reading the words of others: the opportunity to understand aspects of our lives, through the lives of others.
Through my own words, I see and feel my world.
Through the words of others…I see and feel my world from a different angle.
As simple as it is, I believe that humans and our words are the real magic of life.
I choose never to take that shared loveliness for granted.
‘Hello, Moon,’ said Sun, as he watched her rise above the sea to meet him in the orange sky.
‘Hello, dear Sun. Must we always meet like this? I’d rather hoped we might run, today.’
Sun looked at Moon and smiled.
‘Running is a human thing,’ said Sun, laughing at his fanciful friend. ‘If we were to run like the busy humans do…how would we shine as beautifully as we do?’
Moon thought of this and nodded. ‘Shining is quite lovely, isn’t it. Do humans shine like us, do you think?’
‘Some do. When they stop running,’ Sun replied. ‘And when one shines, usually the one beside them shines, too. So does the next, and the next, and the next until they’ve made a whole chain of humans as bright and shining as we are, sweet Moon.’
‘Oh, how lovely!’ said Moon, as she shone silver over the sea, wondering what a chain of bright, shining humans might look like.