Due to the trauma of losing my son, followed by months on medication and the natural passage of time, I’ve been having a very difficult (dare I say impossible) time getting back to writing. My first counselor suggested making writing three times a week a goal. Ha! I wrote one piece on my son, had a panic attack and deleted the whole thing. Turns out all those times I wrote “goal oriented” on applications and resumes was a big fat lie. I’m more nap oriented.
A funny thing happened this week though. My best friend, Angela, shared this photo.
It reminded me of her natural talent behind the lens and how we had always dreamed of traveling and writing someday.
Then I went to my Mom’s and along with Trey’s adopted sister, Cayce, made this awesome memorial tree for Trey.
A few days later Tim was painting a dining room table. Solid white per my request, which had turned a soft robins egg blue. Inspiration struck! I took over the painting job while Tim was out and did this:
It seemed I was surrounded by art and inspiration and creativity. On Wednesday, I started sessions with a new counselor. She said I should take my time and either the writing would come back or maybe I would discover a new creative outlet. Yay!!! Permission from a stranger won out over pressure from myself.
I found myself and Marvie laughing over my travel tales; running out of gas in the Mojave, getting pulled by a SWAT member in Atlanta, the dogs locking us out of the car. So here I sit two days later writing. Maybe I’ll write again tomorrow. Maybe I won’t. I’m okay either way. Its enough to know that the storm may never end but there are moments of calm in the middle.