Duck Duck Pelican

My life hasn’t been my own for a while… oh… well of course it has been my own… I wasn’t locked in a closet or stranded on a desert island. Nothing so dramatic as that… or maybe it was much more dramatic…

Three years ago, I sold my house and moved in with my aging Mother to be her primary caregiver and although she didn’t require constant care in the beginning… mostly me to be there at night for safety… my life changed. A lot. In ways that I can’t explain because I don’t even understand them myself.

I quit writing… not even in my journal… there just weren’t any words… they dried up. The emotions that I was feeling were too tender and raw. I didn’t want to read them and I didn’t want you to either.

I began yoga as my outlet… and it was incredible. The time I would have spent writing was spent on the mat… until it wasn’t… until… sitting by water… not writing… just sitting… and letting peace find me… was my survival…

My sweet Mama passed away in July… and I found myself living in a tiny house at the lake. For months I have eaten, slept, read and looked at the water… and it has been enough… maybe all I could handle… as I gave myself away… or was I merely resting… healing… storing up things to say… I’m not really certain… but I know the magnificent white pelicans wintering on my slew… bring magic every time I see them… perhaps they are bringing back the words which have hidden so deeply in my heart… those raw and tender words… that maybe I am ready to read and share…

And maybe… just maybe… Bertha is singing and dancing with the pelicans…

Jane

 

 

You can get your copy of Bertha-Size Your Life! here.

It’s About Time…

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There are a lot of changes… losses of sorts… I should feel empty… but instead… I feel freedom… like it all fluttered out to make space for something else… or maybe not… maybe there is nothing else for me…

But… I don’t really believe that… there’s always something else… it might not be what I think I want it to be… but there is always something else…

That’s a nice thought…

There’s always something else… always something more… always something fresh… always a place to land when I fall… there is always something else…

Not sure how this writing will go… not sure where I want it to go…

Writing opens my heart and fills me with possibilities… possibilities that are sometimes painful… sometimes scary… sometimes it’s easier to stay closed…

At least… it was… but like that bud… sooner or later… being closed hurts too much and you have to open… flower… all over again… even though you know the blossom will eventually wilt… and fall away… it has to be done…

I’m 62 years old… don’t I think it’s time?

It’s time… isn’t it?

It is…

So… I will write… and on the days that it pleases me… I will share my words with the world… and on the days that it doesn’t… I will ponder them and squander them until another day…

Bertha flutters by… it’s about time… she whisper shouts as she goes…