Writer's Block or what have I been doing for almost a year

Yeah, I know... MIA for way too long. Can't quite understand how I haven't been able to write, me... one who is never at a lose for words. The good thing is that I have discovered why I like to write. It's a process, just like doing laundry or any other repetitive task. It is not the actual result, the proverbial clean and folded laundry, that I need but the process. The contemplation, the release of words to the keyboard or notebook. Then the editing. Hitting the delete button, inserting, rewording... the process.

This means that I have fell in love with new processes that help me meditate on life. I've discovered water bath canning. Seriously, I love it and I can do it in my tiny kitchen! I've made the best garlic pickle ever, fell in love with homemade strawberry jam,

 created "Mmmm mango Mandarin jam," and

<"There can only be one.. The Gherkin."

The Gherkin (just before putting in jars)>

I bought a juicer and love the mixing of fruit and veg that result in these amazing colors and flavors!

And for the first time in my life, I have been able to grow my nails and I'm obsessed with polish and nail art! 

How silly, how fun!

Stay tuned for canning recipes, my fav veg/fruit juice combos, more rants and giggles, and yes, watch my nail art progress. 

Cleaning House

My blog is clogged.  My journal sits waiting to be paid attention to, pen at the ready. My knitting needles lost their click and I haven’t been lost in a good book for months. These things are the way I work out the stuff that churns inside my brain, my heart, my soul.  It has happened before on rare occasion. I have reached a place in my life when I am at a loss for words, my creativity has come to a screeching halt because of the internal work consumes all. At times like this I have to clean house. I watched my mother do the same thing… I knew she had something on her mind and she would commence to clean. To seek out every nook and cranny and make it right.

I am my mother’s daughter. I am transitioning, changing my life in ways unimaginable. It has taken every inch of my fiber, my being to grow… to take these steps. And since I am not using my traditional “tools” to cope, I am my mother. Not a bad thing. I am cleaning house. I open a drawer or cabinet and go through it. I find all the lids to the plastic ware and if there is a missing piece it goes in the trash.  I spent part of New Year’s Eve matching socks. Yes, I actually threw the singles away knowing its mate would never surface. I have tried on everything in my closet and sectioned off a part that fits, will fit and must consign.

 

And on those particularly turbulent days I make laundry. It’s not like I don’t have enough laundry to do and I actually don’t like doing laundry. But there is something about doing laundry, the methodical rhythm of finding the bits for the wash. The kitchen towel, the hand towels, the blankets on the couch. Then turning the knob, adding soap and loading. , Next the turn over to the dryer, cleaning the vent, turning the knob. Warm clothes enter the basket… the smell of clean laundry. Then, the folding, matching of socks, and making neat stacks. I do this all without really thinking, I enter a Zen state of laundry. My mind is captured by the method and I find peace. This is the one task that I do mindfully without actually having to focus on being mindful. I acknowledge the other “thought bombs” and let them go, I’m doing laundry.

So my house is almost clean and the laundry is nearly done yet the writing still comes in mad rushes. It is obvious that radical steps remain. Time to change the color and cut my hair. 

Tinfoil

By now everyone has read that depression can physically hurt, it can be exhausting, it can cause insomnia, and a multitude of other uncomfortable verbs. Depression is… we don’t ask for it. I know that I am no alone in this. We, the depressives, are actually a rather big club, but we don’t advertise very often. Membership comes at a great cost to us and to our loved ones. Our loved ones feel helpless even when we explain there is literally nothing they can do to make it better. The most they can do is acknowledge that depression exists, and let us know they are there for us if we need them. We can be reminded to eat, sleep or get up, or take our meds; but ultimately, we are the ones who have to make it better by doing what works for each of us in the moment.

Over the years I have learned that my depression is mostly triggered by situations and seasons.  I don’t know if I am the only one, but I can recognize when I am on the road to a depressive period. There is that defining moment after struggling to stay balanced when I know that I have temporarily lost my battle with biochemistry. My mouth goes dry and I taste silvery, wrinkled, tinfoil. Really, no matter what I eat or drink, I return to the taste of chewing gum wrapper only worse metal. I wonder if I’m the only one.

The situations vary for me but the seasonal depression is well, seasonal, and as a result, more predictable. I actually start brushing up on my coping skills when everyone is pulling out their boxes of holiday decorations. While everyone is getting into that holiday spirit (or pretending to be) I am doing whatever I can to wake up each day. My seasonal depression can be sneaky. It might arrive before Thanksgiving, but always before my birthday in December and sticks around well into January. I get the fun of a summer depression too, around the death date of my best friend, which coincides with one of the hottest months in Texas.

On the more normal side, if there is such a thing as normal symptoms for depression, I become narcoleptic, never able to get enough sleep in an effort to just shut it all out. On the flip side, I might have a bout of disturbed sleep, waking up and unable to really go back to sleep, unable to stop the wheels from spinning. Staring at the alarm clock dreading the moments knowing I should be sleeping since I actually have to function during the day instead of pulling the sheets over my head.

So what works for me when I’m in the darkest depths of depression? I read, I write and I take not too warm baths or showers, and now I try to share what it is like to be a depressive. I think that speaking out about it helps me have power over it.  Most people never recognize my depression because I work hard to cope.  I leave my depression outside when I enter work and I literally put a smile on my face because it really does bring calm energy. I mindfully walk, type and breathe. I focus on the fact that the best thing I have ever done in my life needs his Mom and the reason I somehow live through those lonely moments of depression in a crowded room. I know each day my son will make me smile, even through the deepest depths of any depressive day. To see that sparkle in his eyes and to hear his laugh is truly magical healing.

P.S. I read a blog entry by one of my fav bloggers, Jenny Lawson aka The bloggess, about depression: http://thebloggess.com/2012/01/the-fight-goes-on/). She has a Silver Ribbon and is raising funds for charity by offering pendants and buttons with the message, “Never Give Up”.

The Hive

Perhaps its been awhile since you have been part of cubeworld. Corporate culture is faced with radical change. Every desk holds a portal to the web... tempting even the most dedicated worker to be sucked in without adult supervision. Personal email, instant access to your bank balance and perhaps Ebay?

Image via Wikipedia

Mr. C, also know as The Man, the queen bee, has combated the web with a series of abstract policies to keep their worker bees in check. They have creative names like "Social Media Contract." All worker bees pledge they will mind the hive, each year you you digitally acknowledge your pledge. "I (enter bee  name here" promise to use the web to support and product the honey."

However, this may not do the trick. Unit leaders are compelled to remind their recruits that Facebook has a time stamp for every bee update. I'm sure that Mark Zuckerberg envisioned Facebook to be a  wide open field of clover where a bee can be happy and carefree.

Beeware: The Queen has a dragnet, phising software to rack the net and catch their bees being crazy bees of the clock. Is it just me or is Corporate America becoming our nosey neighbor peeping through the curtains every time you leave for the day? Has the bee voiced their First Amendment right? is it within corporate policy?

Doucing is an old/new name for a new kind of discrimination. I'm a good worker bee, I have high worker bee ethics and I'm grateful for the benefits offered by the hive, a predictable pay check, and benefits.

But! I'm a radical bee after hours. I use the skills that make me a good bee outside of work. I write. My name is Star and I'm a blogger (Hi Star). It has come to my attention through the buzz of the hive that what I have said in my blog may violate the hive policy. Buzzzzzz, I have never, ever identified my hive. There are a few hives right close (yep, Texas, an at will state) to my hive.

So my fellow busy bees, I have defriended my hive workers in the field of clover and would like to remind all bees that your stinger really is in your own ass. So watch where ya sit and stop buzzing around my field of clover.

The Day Book

I haven’t been connected to the internet on my home computer since October of 2010 but this doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing. While surfing one of my favorite websites, www.edutopia.com, I found this great blog on how to encourage kids to write. The idea is to keep a Day Book, a place to write ideas that will not be graded in any way. So I adopted the idea. First you have to find a journal that is bound and hopefully the kind that you can find again later so you eventually can put the date range on the cover and you’ll have a nifty “series” of Day Books on your shelf. I found a composition book that has this great black and white floral pattern on it at the grocery store. Super cheap since I bought it during tax-free weekend for school supplies. And keeping with the concept, I made a few rules...

1.     No tearing out pages. I have done this with other journals that I’ve kept over the years because I did not want to revisit an experience or thought the writing was lousy.

2.     Write with what you want. This satisfies the office supply junkie in me. I love pens, markers, highlighters and pencils.

3.     Let it flow. No need for complete sentences. Include lists or a word that just tickles my fancy.

4.     Editing is allowed, but no erasers. This way I can still see the original work.

5.     Use of sticky notes allowed. Another way to get at those beloved office supplies!

6.     Glued in elements are encouraged as well as drawings, doodles, etc. I like the scrapbook idea for writing. Found objects are great and I always used to doodle in my school notebooks.

7.     Use both sides of each page. This encourages my eco-friendly side and days flow.

8.     Date each entry so you can remember. Seasonal elements add depth to writing.

9.     There are no bad ideas. If you end up crossing something out, you may just go back and use that idea later on.  

I now have a place to blog without typing, which is not always great since I can type way faster than I can handwrite. I now have a place to store all my ideas that end up on my blog. Hope this helps any inspiring writer of any kind. I’m sure it is not a new idea, but it just struck me as so wonderful that I had to share it.  

Speaking of online writing, if you are interested in publishing unique pieces online, please visit www.revolutionhousemag.com, an online magazine that is accepting written works for its inaugural online edition.

All is Quiet on the Blogger Front or Work is Hell!

I know I've been missing from action for bit, but work has been all consuming. Sherman said, "War is hell" so I will take creative license here and say, "Work is hell!" Thanks history buff husband for the quote and encouraging to write my rant. Its cheap therapy after all.

I come home brain drained and play those silly games on Facebook. Something always has to be harvested, built or iced and the best part is that I don't have to "tally" "feedback" or "submit" a damn thing. Now if only those millions of Mafia Wars rubles were real.

Seriously, I'm in the weeds at work. Ever have one of those days, weeks (or dare I say a month?) when for every case you close you seem to get two more? If I was waiting tables, I'd be rolling in the tips.

I feel like I'm a treadmill going no where fast. If I was on an actual treadmill, I would have burned millions of calories, but nope, my butt continues to enjoy that "I sit in a chair all day" spread. I've been at this job for close to seven years and let me calculate it, that would come out to be gaining about 7 pounds a year!

Have I mentioned that I really thought that I'd only be at this job long enough to go through paid training? Now I'm "an old timer" and people know who I am and ask me how to get into my department. Simple, someone has to move away to work on a mission, get fired, or die. For my company, I'm well paid but when you compare it to the real world it can be insulting.

I don't have a clue who works in the other departments anymore, those chairs are twirly chairs and before you know it know it the chairs spin and new faces appear. The good thing is that I can nod at the other "old timers" with that "same shit different day" attitude and laugh quietly at the fresh happy people who will be beaten down by the man in no time at all.hhhhh, I feel better now.

Blogging Dilemma

I've been investigating on ways to improve my blog and I have a dilemma. The key advice I keep coming across is to stick to one subject. My problem is that my life is multi layered. Another tidbit was to keep your paragraphs short. Really? Is this paragraph too short or two long?

I'm a "working mother." But nearly every woman I know has worked outside the home, or works her ass off at home or will work outside the home again. I have interesting views on working and being a mother which I have yet to explore in my blog, but it is a topic on my "To Blog" list.

I work for a large corporation in customer service. Yes, I spend 40 and sometimes plus hours on the job. I encounter things that vary from the ridiculous to the sublime. I've only tickled the surface of working for "the man."

But I am also a wife, married for eleven years. I am the proud parent of a single child. Just these two areas of my life give me enough material to write for ions. Both have their challenges and rewards that I think are worth sharing.

And I am an activist with a strong political voice. Perhaps many will not champion my causes, but I agree to disagree.  

How can I chisel down to one area of my life? Should I even try? My dear readers, I would love to hear from you on this... really, get to commenting.