It was one of those weekends that last for about
two-and-a-half weeks. I had highest of highs and lowest of lows. The contrast
was discombobulating to say the least. Add into that concoction feeling lonely
and you have quite a powder keg of “ohmigawsh what on Earth am I doing?”
I was once again driving choir kids to and from a gig because Emma volunteers me all the time. Part of her fixation on me driving is I truly believe she likes to have me involved and she also likes to brag that her Mom always shows up. These are just guesses.
The last few times I have driven though I have not been in the world’s greatest moods. I would have rather been almost anywhere other than driving a bunch of teens hither and yon. I couldn’t stomach going in and watching them perform because… well, I just didn’t or couldn’t feel up to it.
I sat outside and read and wrote. I wrote and read. I talked on the phone. I waited.
It’s funny when you don’t have to be anywhere except for where you are and you are just there – no agenda – how good it can feel. This place wasn’t in a great neighborhood but I felt completely at ease as I did my thing. Emma brought me a piece of cake part of the way through and I was happier than happy can be. I was so happy I don’t even want to tax my brain for a happy metaphor.
I was able to let go of some of my sadness from the weekend. I was able to process a bit more, and see how the theme of sticking up for myself is a recurrent one this year and one I need to look at creating more consciously in the future so I won’t unconsciously make sticking up for myself an uncomfortable experience.
The lonely feeling turned into being pleased with a quiet time of solitude in between holiday events.
I’m sure it just looked like “Woman sitting in car in a so-so industrial neighborhood for no apparent reason” but actually it was like my spirit was a tea bag, steeping in warm, ever more flavorful cup of water. No dogs were barking, no dishes were visible in the sink and no one was saying “Mommy… would you?” or “Julie, please…” or anything.
I was on my contentment island and all was well.
It was one of those weekends that last for about two-and-a-half weeks. I had highest of highs and lowest of lows. The contrast was discombobulating to say the least. Add into that concoction feeling lonely and you have quite a powder keg of “ohmigawsh what on Earth am I doing?”
I was once again driving choir kids to and from a gig because Emma volunteers me all the time. Part of her fixation on me driving is I truly believe she likes to have me involved and she also likes to brag that her Mom always shows up. These are just guesses.
The last few times I have driven though I have not been in the world’s greatest moods. I would have rather been almost anywhere other than driving a bunch of teens hither and yon. I couldn’t stomach going in and watching them perform because… well, I just didn’t or couldn’t feel up to it.
I sat outside and read and wrote. I wrote and read. I talked on the phone. I waited.
It’s funny when you don’t have to be anywhere except for where you are and you are just there – no agenda – how good it can feel. This place wasn’t in a great neighborhood but I felt completely at ease as I did my thing. Emma brought me a piece of cake part of the way through and I was happier than happy can be. I was so happy I don’t even want to tax my brain for a happy metaphor.
I was able to let go of some of my sadness from the weekend. I was able to process a bit more, and see how the theme of sticking up for myself is a recurrent one this year and one I need to look at creating more consciously in the future so I won’t unconsciously make sticking up for myself an uncomfortable experience.
The lonely feeling turned into being pleased with a quiet time of solitude in between holiday events.
I’m sure it just looked like “Woman sitting in car in a so-so industrial neighborhood for no apparent reason” but actually it was like my spirit was a tea bag, steeping in warm, ever more flavorful cup of water. No dogs were barking, no dishes were visible in the sink and no one was saying “Mommy… would you?” or “Julie, please…” or anything.
I was on my contentment island and all was well. It was a just right (and just write) fit!
= = = = =
This is an installment of Just Write, an exercise in free writing your ordinary and extraordinary moments. (Please see the details here or click on the icon above, in the beginning of the essay.)
Follow me on Twitter: @juliejordanscot
Be sure to "Like" WritingCampwithJJS on Facebook (THANK YOU!)
Recent Comments