Warm, warm, and warm
Ok, enough.
Enough with the cold, enough with the bad coffee, enough with the compost toilet.
Enough with the silence.
I left downeast and came to Ogunquit. I've never been so happy to see traffic.
I had a friend call and tell me to get on a conference call. She said I needed to hear some people, get a grip.
She's right.
Mind you, this is someone who thinks deep thoughts. She did not say it's time to get your head out of your ass, Whitman, but I know she was thinking it.
I am grateful for the time I had. The beautify of the coast. The harbor seals, the eagles. But I'm only human and I can only take so much. After a restless, sleepless night, and the dog snorting at me at 5:30AM to go out, I was done. I cleaned up, packed up, closed down and left.
I'm not doing the conference call, though.
I miss my kids, I miss my wife, but mostly, I missed people. I don't want to be far away anymore. I've kept myself far away, distant, in so many ways. Safe.
And alone.
I learned something about the parts that drive me. I also learned that I don't have to be miserable to be "working." I also don't have to work all the time to be a good person. It's enough to be a mom. A partner. A good friend. It really is enough. Those are the things I'll take to my grave. No job, no movement, no award will ever stack up to the friends and family I have. The love I have in my life.
Now? I'm going to eat a tasty Italian sub, no mayo this time, chug a giant bottle of vitamin water and go to bed without the dog snoring next to me.
I am a blessed person. It's time to remember that.
Enough with the cold, enough with the bad coffee, enough with the compost toilet.
Enough with the silence.
I left downeast and came to Ogunquit. I've never been so happy to see traffic.
I had a friend call and tell me to get on a conference call. She said I needed to hear some people, get a grip.
She's right.
Mind you, this is someone who thinks deep thoughts. She did not say it's time to get your head out of your ass, Whitman, but I know she was thinking it.
I am grateful for the time I had. The beautify of the coast. The harbor seals, the eagles. But I'm only human and I can only take so much. After a restless, sleepless night, and the dog snorting at me at 5:30AM to go out, I was done. I cleaned up, packed up, closed down and left.
I'm not doing the conference call, though.
I miss my kids, I miss my wife, but mostly, I missed people. I don't want to be far away anymore. I've kept myself far away, distant, in so many ways. Safe.
And alone.
I learned something about the parts that drive me. I also learned that I don't have to be miserable to be "working." I also don't have to work all the time to be a good person. It's enough to be a mom. A partner. A good friend. It really is enough. Those are the things I'll take to my grave. No job, no movement, no award will ever stack up to the friends and family I have. The love I have in my life.
Now? I'm going to eat a tasty Italian sub, no mayo this time, chug a giant bottle of vitamin water and go to bed without the dog snoring next to me.
I am a blessed person. It's time to remember that.
posted by Sara at 6:02 PM
8 Comments:
You didn't even make a week!?
BEAUTIFUL Sara. Good for you. This made me smile.
Good for you- knowing what you need and doing it. That's the best.
You learned what you needed to learn. You did what you needed to do.
And when the boys start in on your last nerve, you will have the memory of all that stillness and you will smile.
sorry the weather didn't cooperate a little more with your writing getaway. i should have insisted that you come over and spend a couple more nights, but i doubt you would have given up the mea culpa moments.
enjoy the week in ogunquit and keep up with the writing. when the kids arrive on friday, that will be the end of the peace and quiet!!
I made it seven days, anon. that's not too bad.
The last two sentences are at the heart of the matter. Smile. You have arrived.
OK...seven days. You did well.
And a hell of a writer too.
You remember, Paul Hindemith wrote a little every day. Except when he had friends over to play the things he'd written. Bela Bartok hid away for a while in Saranac Lake to compose. Mahler was usually busy running a symphony orchestra. While he wasn't fooling around with Alma and composing like a maniac. Charles Ives was an insurance exec when he wasn't composing.
Do you think your best balance is being unbalanced? Or maybe unhinged ;)
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