Change - and Getting Unstuck

Every month I create a list of writing goals, many of which I end up 'carrying over' to the next month. But at the end of July, I was surprised to see that without thinking about it too much, I've achieved all but three of my nine goals. One of the goals I enjoyed reaching the most, was my first 'reunion' poetry performance in a long while, with the Writing Sisters Collective at the Brighton Poetry Society evening. Not too bad, considering the amount of personal upheaval in my life at the moment.

Yes, I am going through big changes in my domestic situation, which I don't yet feel ready to write about on here. But an unexpected direction in my writing this month has been starting a new children's story, called 'Petra the Pixie'.

I wrote a children's book called 'Journey Through The Elements' a few years ago, inspired by walking through a beautiful woods near Kirstenbosch in Cape Town, South Africa. I literally 'spoke the story aloud' to myself as I walked, and then came home and wrote it down. It took a couple of years to finish, and then a while later I developed an alternative, much shorter version for younger readers called 'The Lonely Oak'. One of my incomplete goals for July was to rework this story. However, I've been inspired by Ruby and the Star, a beautiful story written by one of the moms at my mothers' writing group, and am now thinking about different directions that I could go in trying to reach an audience with 'The Lonely Oak'. Right now I'm looking for an illustrator - any takers?

'Petra the Pixie' was birthed out of a writing exercise, adapted from one by Julia Cameron (author of 'The Artist's Way' and 'The Right to Write' among other amazing books): Imagine you're sitting against a tree. A storyteller is sitting on the other side - what do they look like? What kind of story is he or she going to tell you? And...you've guessed it...simply write the story.

In fact I started writing the story during one of J's naps, sitting against - yes, a tree - in Hove Park, after attending an NCT summer picnic. It's about faery dust and the wishes of children, and it's a lovely bit of escapism from the rather raw reality of my life at the moment.

In trawling the web for writing exercises for my group, I've come across some lovely work by others. I'll leave you with these questions from The Writing Nag, a rather useful blog I discovered recently. It's about how to fine-tune your creativity by getting blocks out the way; becoming more organised and just getting on with it (never my strong point).

1. What one thing could you do this week to feel more organized? feel less stressed? help your finances?

2. What have you been procrastinating? Why? Can you schedule this task or ask for help in getting it done?

3. What are you missing in your creative life?

4. When I think about ____________________, I feel overwhelmed.

5. I'd like to call/email/write _________________.

6. If I was my boss, I would have fired myself for _____________.

7. One habit that I could change that would positively impact my writing (or whatever form of creativity is your bag) goals is __________.

A Time for Every Season

I'm often amazed by the effect of uplifting company on my mood. Yesterday I was feeling a bit down and bored with the whole Stay-at-Home Mom routine. Morning time felt like wading through quicksand as I tried to eat my breakfast, read to J, and deal with his frustration when he couldn't get Eeyore to fit on top of the microwave.

Meeting up with a good friend and fellow mother later that afternoon, in the lovely Royal Pavilion Gardens, I caught some unexpected sunshine - both in the sky and in my mood. The key, for me, is honesty. I've met with fellow mom friends where that plain-speaking connection was absent, and gone away feeling even more alone. Susan Maushart's book The Mask of Motherhood discusses the phenomenon of mothers pretending everything is OK to each other, and therefore robbing themselves of the true support they could offer each other.

I'm not having any truck with that anymore. The ambivalence of motherhood, as well as tips and tricks on how to handle toddler tantrums, are the bread and butter of my conversations with my peers. Being a stay-at-home mom but feeling guilty for wishing you could get away sometimes. Or being a work-ouside-the-home mom and feeling guilty for being away so much.


One of the less-talked about things my friend and I discussed was the successive 'stages' of motherhood. How, now that we've got past the first year (and I'm nearly done with the second), it's hard to look back to that symbiotic, all-consuming early motherhood stage. Like once you are a teenager, you dissociate yourself from the things of childhood, not wanting to be reminded of that painful dependence.


Similarly, I find I'm gravitating more towards mothers of older children, those my son's age or older. Those who can show me the progression a little further down the line, and who are not still completely wrapped up in the newborn stage, where you live, eat, breathe and sleep baby. I'm also starting to do things such as plan poetry gigs, like my upcoming ones with my Writing Sisters Collective at Brighton Poetry Society on the 27th July, and the Out of The Ordinary Festival in September. You can listen to some of my performance poetry on my My Space page.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with the 'submersion' stage, and it's entirely appropriate at that stage. I was like that too. But now I'm starting to spread my wings and take moves towards re-establishing my own life. Today I visited the Brighton Buddhist Centre, had a chat about their programme of study and meditation and sat in their shrine room in much-needed silence; sat on the seafront and meditated looking at the sea; read a short story; went to the library; and now I'm procrastinating before getting down to some work on my short stories! All of these things rejuvenate me and bring me back to a sense of who I am, in parallel to J's increasing independence.



(Image courtesy of Brighton Buddhist Centre website)

Welcoming the Winter

The past week has brought with it the huge turning point of J turning one, and of us moving house - from a flat, to a house with a lovely little garden. It's been a stressful period with us still frantically cleaning the old flat on the morning of the key handover, but thankfully over- I wouldn't recommend moving house with a toddler though!

J is nearly a toddler - he can stand alone and walk with support. His behaviour's becoming more toddler-like by the day- yep, the advent of tantrums and every sign of being strong-willed. His communication is getting better and more sophisticated. He experienced his first moment on stage when I performed with the rest of the Writing Sisters Collective last month at the Horseplay poetry and music event. J did burst into tears during the set when the audience laughed, but other than that he was great. It was good to re-unite with my Sisters in Poetry. Today being National Poetry Day is poignant for me as I am of course at home rather than at a poetry event tonight.

September was a good month. We went up to Cornwall for a very good friend's wedding and to Exeter for a few days to visit family. Me and J and two friends attended the Out of the Ordinary Festival in the Sussex countryside in the first week of September, and it was out of the ordinary indeed - the weather was straight from heaven and the 'sunbow' I witnessed was very special. J loved the fires, the drumming and the general tribal atmosphere. I came back feeling so refreshed and ready to greet the winter!

So here we are in autumn. I've been having a week of irritating encounters with 'petty officials', from the guy who installed our internet and phone line, to the grumpy library official who should NOT be working in the children's section as she clearly does NOT like children (I'm plotting a letter of complaint at the moment, and have several allies on this), and the dentist who couldn't quite get that I didn't want to just suddenly have a filling on the spot with my one year old in tow. Sigh. Unfortunately the last person in the list of grumpy unhelpful people usually doesn't benefit from my people-pleasing tendencies, and is more likely to get a bit of an earful. My Mama Bear instincts came out today when I, and several other moms, were reprimanded for 'letting' our toddlers take children's books off shelves that were so temptingly put in their reach. It was a typical example of how un-child-friendly our society can be. There aren't many places we are welcome with kids in tow, and where it is free to enter, and I thought the library was one of them. I guess not.